riverviewlogs | missing pieces

Entry tags:

missing pieces

who: Bucky Barnes (MCU), Ivar Ragnarsson, Dick Grayson, Stephen Strange, Ellie, Tony Stark, Suigetsu Houzuki, Clark Kent, Fatima Merali, Eichi Tenshouin, Shai Ebbisaryn, Steve Rogers (MCU), Líadan Ní Donnabháin, Bucky Barnes (616), and Jonathan Kent
what: Various prompts
when: April 1st/2nd
where: Abandoned city
warnings: Probable violence
note: Though this log has closed prompts, if you would like to do anything with Bucky please just send me a PM or hit me up at

bibbety and I will be more than happy to add in a prompt for you!

[i: Sparring partners; CLOSED to Ivar Ragnarsson]

[Bucky spends a lot of his time out in the abandoned city, even sleeping there some nights when the feel of people all around him becomes a bit too much to handle. He's doing better than he was when he arrived here, he's even spoken to Steve fairly courteously once, but he's got a long way to go and he still prefers to do it alone.

Which is why he's out in the city training himself, running between buildings, jumping and vaulting various debris fields, and occasionally testing his acrobatic skills with flips and kicks off one surface to catch hold of another. What he's not expecting, after jumping one particularly large gap between rooftops, is to land by a man on the ground.

At first he thinks it's someone hurt, until he recognises the man that fought him when he was recently arrived and remembers how he couldn't use his legs. It's pretty impressive that he got up this far, let alone out here to the abandoned city in the first place.]

You okay?

[He was just going to go, but maybe Ivar really is hurt and can't get down.]

[ii: Meals on wheels; CLOSED to Dick Grayson]

[There have been a couple of times while Bucky has been skulking around the city that he's seen the man he doused in yoghurt, still patrolling in that costume. He knows his name now, made sure to look it up based on the usernames and the apartment - Dick Grayson. Not that he plans on using it, he just likes to have all the information, it can be the difference between life and death.

But what he doesn't realise is that he's the one that's been spotted tonight by Dick, as he slips out into the abandoned city and turns into one of the nearby ruins. A sleeping bag and rucksack are already stashed there, along with a surprising array of weapons. He slides into his sleeping bag, sat up against the wall, completely unaware that he's not alone... for now.]

[iii: Magic and Mayhem; CLOSED to Stephen Strange]

[Bucky has very few things that he would count as personal possessions. His weapons, clothes, and sleeping bag were all just tools that could pass in and out of his ownership without him caring that much. Though he would never like to be unarmed, he could always find more weapons if he lost these.

But he had a book that was precious to him. Just a tattered little notebook which was a quarter full of news clippings of all the various Avengers, some information both bought and stolen from the Smithsonian gift shop, and several choppy paragraphs in his own handwriting. Notes on information he's found out, memories that have resurfaced, that sort of thing.

He's sitting on the rooftop of one of the buildings in the main city, riffling through the book, when a sudden gust of wind catches it and sends it out of his hands and over the side to land at either at the feet of, or directly on the head of, the poor unsuspecting person walking by.

Sorry, Stephen.]

[iv: Dance lessons; CLOSED to Ellie]

[The flower festival isn't exactly Bucky's natural habitat, but he keeps finding himself drawn to the dance lessons and performances in the various open park areas. He doesn't really remember dancing himself, it's definitely not something the Soldier has ever done even though he has the dexterity for it, but it feels familiar.

So even though spending so much time in the crowds goes against a lot of his instincts, Bucky keeps finding himself back in the throng.

It's where he is that morning, sat with his back against a tree to make it slightly harder to sneak up on him from behind, intently watching a couple perform an exhibition piece in the style of swing dancing. These are the ones he likes the best, the ones that feel the most oddly familiar, and he has an almost peaceful expression as he watches.]

[v: Running into you; CLOSED to Tony Stark]

[Bucky spends a lot of his time either hiding, skulking in the shadows, or moving at a carefully steady pace through crowds so as not to attract attention. But sometimes he just needs to blow off steam, sometimes he just needs to burn through the excess energy that the bastardised serum gives him.

Which is why he's running.

He's at least chosen a time when he doesn't think anyone else will be near the outskirts of the city, and he's running down side streets and back alleys rather than the main streets, but he is pushing himself all out. Running faster than a normal human could, vaulting trash cans and practically skidding around corners.

It's probably lucky he hasn't crashed into anyone before now...]

[vi: Festival Fun; CLOSED to Suigetsu Houzuki]

[This festival, much like the last festival, is a good place to gather free food. The stall vendors are often so busy that they don't notice a little something here or there going missing, and lots of people end up buying food that they can't finish and just abandon. Which is why one suspicious hobo type is now casually wandering the picnic area, stooping as if to tie his shoe every so often when he's really stealing leftovers.

Don't mind him...]

[vii: A serious talk; CLOSED to Clark Kent]

[See the comments for starter.]

[viii: Kites and trees; SEMI-OPEN to anyone plotted with on the CR meme]

[Bucky has spent most of the flower festival skirting the main events, on the fringes of the crowds, or watching from a distance. But some things keep drawing him in deeper, like leftovers at the picnic area, or dance contests, or the smell of food.

To anyone wandering, he can be found in the following places:

i) staring into the window of a bakery as if the pies on display have the answer to life.
ii) up a tree in the park, watching a dance demonstration like a skulking creeper
iii) flying a kite that he got pressured into buying, sitting on the grass in a relatively secluded area. If this kite accidentally drops and wraps around your character, more's the pity.]

[ix: Football; CLOSED to Jonathan Kent]

[Bucky doesn't look like someone who's in the park to play a nice game of football... for one, he doesn't actually have a football. He's also skulking under the trees, wearing a long hoodie and gloves despite the warm weather, and is looking around at everyone entering the park as if they might be a threat to him.

But he said he wanted to do this, so he's here.

Even after he got the message from Clark that said he had somewhere else to be that morning, he was sorry, but hopefully Bucky could still have fun with Jonathan. Which was why Bucky was skulking out of place, waiting for a kid and hoping that said kid brought a football with him. Or they might be kind of scuppered.]

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[That's the sort of answer that he might give, the sort of answer that comes from someone used to getting injured and then just getting on with it. It's not something he's going to press, it's obvious Ivar isn't badly hurt.]

Maybe he trusts me.

[Even he knows that isn't going to fly. So after a moment, he pulls off his left glove to reveal the metal hand beneath. Perhaps it's because Ivar has been so open about his own disabilities today, but Bucky feels like he's earned at least this small answer.]

[He watches as Bucky shows off his metal hand. He doesn't look all that surprised at seeing such an advanced prosthetic.]

Huh. My roommate has a hand like that...[Ivar thinks for a moment and one can almost see him putting puzzle pieces together in his head.] ...almost exactly like that.

[There's another question in his eyes.] Care to explain?

[His expression shutters into something very carefully neutral, and he takes a half step back from Ivar.]

No.

[He doesn't care to explain.]

[He should have known that was going to happen. Ivar watches as Bucky's face closes up like a shade being drawn over a window.]

You're a lot of help.

[He uses the nearest object to him, which happens to be Skinfaxi's forelegs, to hold onto while he moves his legs around into a sitting position.]

I'll just ask him instead.

[That's a good tactic to take, and Bucky looks half like he might just kick Ivar off the roof instead of explain.]

He's another me, or I'm another him. Different worlds.

[He knows that look very well. He's gotten it often enough at home from his brothers. But he doesn't care. Answers are more important than getting along with the taciturn assassin.]

And here I was just getting used to the idea of different worlds.

[He looks surprised. Being from the past and learning there are multiple worlds he can handle. Learning there's multiple versions of the same person is a bit harder to wrap his head around.]

[He shrugs, tense as hell.]

I'm not exactly used to it myself, and we're not the same. Same name, that's about it.

[Or... not really. They have more in common than that, but there's a lot of glaring differences too.]

I noticed. He's a lot more-- [How does he put this in a way that doesn't end with Bucky dangling him off the edge of the roof?] --put together.

[Good diplomatic answer there. Better than pointing out how he's a murderous homeless person.]

[That actually earns a snort of laughter, sudden and unguarded. Bucky's almost as surprised as anyone else at the noise coming out of him, and it cuts off fairly quickly.]

No shit.

[Ivar looks surprised when Bucky laughs, the sound completely unexpected. He leans forward, grinning a little.]

You're unlike anyone else here. You know how to fight, even if I'm not sure you know how to think.

[The laugh dies away pretty quickly and is replaced with his usual neutral expression, not at all offended by the analysis of his mental state.]

That's not a good endorsement for me as a teacher.

[Since he thinks he knows where this is going. Again.]

As proven by most Vikings except me, you don't need a brain in order to fight.

[Most other Vikings just recklessly attacked until their for was beaten. Ivar stood back and worked things out instead. He fixes Bucky with one of his penetrating stares, emphasized by his bright blue eyes.]

I want you to teach me.

I already told you no.

[He can barely trust himself to be around others even momentarily like this, how could he possibly trust himself to teach someone else combat? Even if, objectively speaking, there's nothing that he's better suited for.]

I held back when we fought because I didn't want to hurt you, I couldn't guarantee that would happen if we fought regularly.

What makes you think I'm the one whose going to get hurt?

[Ivar isn't exactly a puppy dog when it comes to fighting either. He was just as good as any Viking when it came to weapons. His face sets into a stubborn cast. He's determined to get his way.]

Because I'm better than you are.

[It's not said arrogantly, though it probably comes off that way, more that he thinks he's stating a fact.]

[There's just a slight shift in Ivar's posture, a stiffening of the shoulders and a tightening of his hands to indicate his anger. He's been hearing that his whole life. No one has ever thought he could be as good as anyone else. He was just a poor cripple to be pitied.

But there's times for anger and this was not one of them. If he gets mad, it'll just ensure Bucky never trains him. Instead, he buries the anger down to deal with later. His words, when they come, are level and measured.]

That may be so. But how am I going to get any better if you don't teach me? My father said to always learn from the best there was.

[He sees the restrained anger, but it's a mark of control that Ivar doesn't let loose with it, and perhaps that's why he finds himself softening slightly. He hadn't thought the headstrong young man capable of holding himself back.]

And if I do teach you, what then?

[Why does he want to get better?]

You'd have to understand how Vikings think to get that. Fighting is in our blood. Everyone is a warrior. If you're a cripple, you're nothing. I'm good, but I want to show them all I can be even better.

[What he doesn't say it's how he really wants to prove it to himself. To have self-worth instead of feeling like an object of condescension and pity.]

[It makes sense. He gets wanting to prove yourself, and the attitude is oddly familiar, tickling at the back of his head. Like he can almost see a skinny, asthmatic, sickly kid insisting that he can handle the fighting and screw what everyone else thinks he should be capable of. Maybe that's why he nods.]

One condition, you tell nobody. I'm not having anyone else come after me, understand?

[Ivar is surprised that Bucky finally agrees. He thought it would take a lot more convincing, or that the man would finally say 'Screw this' and leave. He nods at the condition.]

You have my word.

[And Vikings don't break their word easily.]

[He's still not entirely sure about this, and it's possible that he'll end up doing one training session and then ghosting on his promise to do more, but it's a start.]

Okay.

[He braces himself in an obvious ready stance.]

Show me what you've got.

[Ivar takes his axe off from where he keeps it strapped to his back as the light of battle comes into his pale eyes. He loves this more than anything in the world. Bucky's already seen him fight once, so he can't rely on the usual helpless cripple act that's fooled more than one opponent. No, he has to rely on strategy for this. Bucky's good, one of the best Ivar's seen, but he can use that against him. People who are the best are overconfident.

So the Viking pauses a moment before swiping at his feet with the axe blade. He won't be throwing it just yet. That would remove his primary weapon and he's got no doubt that unlike his last opponent, Bucky will know how to use it against him.]

[In direct contrast to Ivar lighting up, Bucky seems to shut down when it comes to the fight. His eyes become blank and hard, his expression completely neutral, but his movements switch to something fluid and dangerous. This is what he's been trained for, this is what he was made for.

He jumps the axe blade, attempting to time his landing to trap the blade itself under one of his boots. It's a risky move. If it works, he'll try and stamp on Ivar's hand, if it doesn't then he'll aim a kick for his face.]

[He jerks his axe back just in time to keep it from being trapped. When the kick comes his way, he rolls to the side, but it does catch him in the shoulder. There's a small grunt of pain that escapes him, but that's the only indication he's been hurt.

Ivar aims the axe blade again, and when Bucky comes near him, he aims the blade low to the ground and tries to bring it up right between his legs. Some might call it dirty fighting, but Ivar thinks of it as being pragmatic. With the disadvantage his legs present, he's got to take whatever edge he can get.]

[He darts to the side, but the blade still catches him on the thigh to gouge a deep cut. He doesn't hesitate or stumble, he's been taught how to ignore all but the most life threatening of injuries. The mission is everything.

He tries to use his momentum and the fact that it should take Ivar a moment to bring the axe back again, to jump in close aiming a punch to the temple.]

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