memories are what make us who we are

[advanced]

who: Bucky and OPEN
what: Memory sharing event (within dreams)
when: October 9th - 23rd
where: Inside dreams
warnings: Torture, forced memory loss, gore, violence, Nazis.

note: I'll be doing a new dream memory for everyone that tags in, if there are specific subjects you would like to avoid then please note them in your tag/subject line and I'll make sure to tailor the dream accordingly. This can also be used for Bucky to view return dream memories. Open to new and old CR, and you don't need to plot with me first; but if you'd prefer to then I can be reached on plurk at bibbety

[Bucky tries not to sleep too often even when there aren't oddities happening when he closes his eyes, but even he can't stay awake forever. He's only human, after all, the serum doesn't change that much about him.

But when he closes his eyes and drifts off, he's not expecting to be standing as an observer of his dream, like it's an incredibly realistic movie, and he's certainly not expecting someone to be stood beside him looking on.]

You're not supposed to be here.

[Depending how late in the event it is, and how many people he's seen in his dreams already, that statement ranges from confusion to tight irritation in tone.]

Comments

[krasnaya_vdova]

I know. I'm sorry.

[The words are genuine, because Ava understands the discomfort of it. Her dreams are not good places, and she knows that his likely aren't either. There's no way that this ends up being a pleasant experience for either of them.]

Whatever this is, I'm not-- This isn't me.

[She feels the need to make the point. She would never do this, not to him of all people. Not like this. She knows so well just what kind of violation it is.]

[advanced]

[They're stood in a small storage room in what looks like a warehouse building, the window is grimy and cracked open just a bit to reveal they're approximately twelve stories up. Cars with British license plates drive on the streets below, the Houses of Parliament can be seen in the distance.

Another Bucky, this one in full leather tactical gear, is setting up a sniper rifle with careful and methodical movements.]

...then how are you here?

[krasnaya_vdova]

[She watches; recognizes Westminster from both pictures and a brief stay in London when she'd been on the run. Twelve stories up, and there's a moment where she can't help working out the angles, possible target locations, the wind drag and time of flight. The other Bucky, the one in leather tactical gear, the one that's familiar from when she'd seen him back before Quarantine, sets up the rifle, and she shakes herself out of that space.

Instead, she turns to look at James.]

I don't know.

[There's a notable lack of reaction to the scene; not that she's not watching, but that it doesn't scare her. It's just that usually the person behind the sights in her dreams is a redhead with sharp eyes.]

Is this real?

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Bucky can make himself sleep on command most days. He gets enough to get by. Lately, though, the weird nightmares have been increasing in frequency, getting stranger; that's what this feels like, when he sees the other James Barnes, and he's frowning right off the bat, even here appearing sleep-mussed and casual the way he was when he went to bed.]

Let's agree we both shouldn't be here. [Whatever 'here' is. He turns a critical eye to the sparse surroundings.] I can't figure out if this is another weird dream or somethin' screwy going on.

[advanced]

[Here is an underground room with various men in military style uniforms stood about, though clearly they're more of a private tactical assault team than allied to the official military. Bucky is sat on a chair in the middle of them all, silent and staring, as various readouts are taken.]

It's a dream, it's my dream.

[He doesn't recognise it?]

[anotheroldsoldier]

Then why the hell am I seeing this? [But it isn't entirely clear if he's talking to himself or his counterpart as he looks around, frown deepening as the scene grows clearer. The discomfort is definitely there; he doesn't want to be in anyone else's head any more than he wants other people in his, and now...

How the hell does he wake up? He can guess at what might happen next, and his stomach turns. He doesn't want to see it.]

[supersweet]

[ Jon doesn't flinch, crossing his arms. He's tough for his age and it'll take more than Bucky to get him to back down. ]

It wasn't my fault. What is this?

[advanced]

[They're stood together in the beautifully carpeted lobby of an opulent hotel. There are staff and guests everywhere, most of them speaking in French. It's not hard to spot Bucky among them, he's dressed in a smart suit with his hair neatly done, a briefcase in his hand.

He speaks softly in perfect French to the concierge on duty and is given a room key, before heading towards the elevator.]

It's a memory, one you shouldn't be seeing. This is my head, how did you get in here?

[supersweet]

I don't know! It's not one of my powers!

[ Jon glances around curiously. ]

Uhh. So. What kind of memory is this . . . ? How come you're wearing actual clothes?

[inebriety]

[It's the weight of Anthony in his arms that gives this away to Tony. If this was real he shouldn't be able to touch the boy. Anthony peers at Bucky in open curiosity, a mirror image of when Tony was younger.]

An argument could be made for the reverse.

[Anthony and Tony are wearing matching suits although this isn't what Tony went to sleep in.]

Two against one after all. Right, kiddo?

[He adjusts his hold so he can raise his hand up for Anthony to high five.]

[advanced]

[What?

He's experienced this a few times now, but he has never had two people there at the same time, one of them much younger than the other one. He frowns, desperately uncomfortable to have any version of Tony Stark inside his head... especially when he recognises the stretch of road that they're stood on.

It won't be long, there'll be a car soon, and a motorcycle.]

Who is that?

[inebriety]

[The scenery is nothing special to Tony so it's Bucky that gets his full attention.]

Meet the reason why I was at the hospital that day. This is Anthony, he's my brain tumour. Anthony, this is Mr. Barnes, he's Steve's friend.

[Anthony waves and says cheerfully, 'Nice to meet you Mister. I think it's really cool I get to meet everyone for real here.' At no point has Tony ever thought that this sort of thing was crazy.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar seems only mildly surprised at being inside Bucky's dream. After having his memories broadcast to the city as a whole, this actually feels a little less invasive. He recognizes straight away they're not awake. For one thing, he's standing and walking. His subconscious mind doesn't limit his body the way he has in the waking world.]

I know. But here we are.

[He peers around, face both intent and curious. Much as he hates this lack of privacy, he can't help but wonder at getting this glimpse of the past Bucky is so reluctant to talk about.]

Where is here, anyway?

[advanced]

[The room they're standing in is built almost entirely of metal, and obviously in a very cold location because ice has formed on the floor and walls. It's small, perhaps just enough room to extend the arms and touch the walls on either side, but somehow they don't seem to be in the way of the man already in there.

Bucky, with much shorter hair and bruises all across his face and torso, is stood in just his underwear in the middle of the room. He's shivering, toes curling against the floor, but he doesn't actually make any movements to warm himself up. Just stands there, breath misting in front of him, staring straight ahead.]

...It's somewhere you shouldn't be.

[Isn't that clear.]

A long time ago.

[ragnarsson]

[Though he can't feel it, Ivar can tell just how cold this place is. It looks almost painfully so, which makes the behavior of the dream Bucky all the more puzzling and disconcerting.]

Well, you can't kick me out.

[Or, he thinks to himself, run away this time either. Things are bound to play out as they had in life. Ivar continues to watch, wondering at this snippet of who Bucky had been such a long time ago.]

[buildsomething]

[Tony stills at the voice -- it's a familiar one -- and slowly turns towards it's owner with a wariness he's mostly lost in the waking world. He's had these dreams before, the ones where Barnes turns up. It just remains to be seen who's supposed to kill who tonight. Neither version is ever particularly pleasant.

The hint of confusion in Barnes' tone, though, that's new. It's throwing off the script and Tony frowns at him.]

Aren't I?

[advanced]

No, but you're not the first.

[The scene solidifies around them as the aftermath of Howard and Maria being killed, the car is already crashed, the Soldier is already taking out the samples of serum from the briefcase in the trunk. There's blood on the ground and it's seeping into the snow.]

These are my dreams.

[buildsomething]

[It takes less than a second for Tony to register exactly where they are, though only a tic in the muscle of his jaw makes it visibly clear. I know that road. He forces himself to turn, to look nowhere near the front seat. He knows exactly what will be there and isn't completely sure he won't melt down over it. Again.]

Your dreams, huh.

[His tone is flat in a way that says he has no idea what he's feeling right now.]

[somnioergosum]

[Since running into each other some months before, Ronan has seen Bucky only in passing. Under different circumstances, he wouldn't mind another encounter, but he understands this is a violation. He's just really bad at expressing that sentiment.]

Trust me, I'd leave if I could. You're not exactly the man of my dreams.

[advanced]

No, seems like you're the man in mine. For now, at least.

[He vaguely recognises Ronan, and it puts him on edge to have a veritable stranger in a place that he can't control.

They're stood in a sewer, the only light is a very dim torch that the other Bucky, dressed in full tactical gear, is pointing down at his feet so that he can see his path without alerting anyone up ahead. The only sound is the quiet sloshing of his footsteps through the sewage.]

[somnioergosum]

I'll try not to hold it against you.

[And yet Ronan can't help but look at this other Bucky. He's guessing that this isn't a military operation. Operation Wasted would be a bad name anyway.]

One of your nightmares?

[redtailedhawke]

[ It's not the first time Hawke has walked through another's dreams, even before arriving here, but that she is recognized at all as a separate entity automatically is already a good sign. Such as one is. ]

... For a number of reasons. [ The primary being: she is not a mage. The Fade should not be open to her like this. It takes immense power or a careful ritual to enable the sharing of a dream, as far as she knows, and she certainly doesn't remember consenting to this trip.]

[advanced]

[They're on a train together, the rattle of the rails loud even against the howling snowstorm outside. Bucky, shorter hair and in a military uniform, is crouching behind some boxes as he fires to cover a man in a multicoloured uniform from their attackers further up the carriage.

Bucky's jaw tightens ever so slightly, but when he turns to talk to her it's with a forced casualness as if the scene doesn't upset him.]

Main one I can see, is that I don't know you.

[He's at least met all the people who've come in so far, at least once. It must be getting worse if even strangers can force their way in now.]

[stevegrogers]

You wouldn't believe how many times I hear that a day.

[ A poor excuse for a joke but he wanted to at least attempt to lighten the air churning around them so oppressive and thick. Taking a step closer, he dared to reach out and try to squeeze Bucky's arm, in comfort mostly but also to see if he had fallen asleep himself.

He tried to not sleep if he could help it because of what happened when he did. ]

What is this? What's going on, Buck?

[advanced]

[Of all the people he doesn't want to see this, Steve is the top of the list. He knows his stupid ass already blames himself for not going to make sure Bucky had died in that fall, the last thing he needs is to be adding fuel to the fire.]

It's my dreams, my memories. I don't know how it's happening, but you're not the first person to show up here.

[They're in a long room with a low roof, there's no windows and only a few electric lights hung from the ceiling. Bucky, bruised and sweating, blood dripping down his chin, is stood a short distance from a man in vaguely military dress. He speaks in Russian.]

Incorrect, Soldier. You will not resist, you will remain still.

Sorry, I don't understand, maybe try English. I'm American, pretty sure I've told you that before.

[There's a sudden tang of electricity in the air and then Bucky is all of a sudden on the floor, writhing and twitching in agony. The other Bucky, the one stood next to Steve, just watching impassively.]

You shouldn't have to see this.