apocalypsehowcomm | August Catch-all

Who: Bucky Barnes (AKA the dude who doesn't have a proper name right now) and OPEN
When: August catch-all
Where: ADI headquarters, ADI apartments, around town
Summary: Just working, training, and being quietly creepy
Warnings: Internalized depersonalization

I. Patrols - ADI headquarters, ADI apartments

Working security is not entirely mindless, but it's close. Patrol around the outside of the ADI building complex, patrol through the buildings, prod the occasional air vent in the ceiling or panels in the wall just in case there's someone hiding in there, then repeat. It's familiar. It's comfortable. It's not quite mindless, but it's close enough to let him settle into diffuse focus where he doesn't have to worry about lack of orders and going home to not having anything to do there, either.

He's not averse to company on the job, but he's not... exactly chatty.

Sometimes he gets restless and repeats the process around the ADI apartment complex, too. Spot him at night, whether shortly after dinner or in the small hours of the morning, walking at a regular pace around the apartment complex fence, eyes alert but tired. He might be more chatty now-- maybe, a little-- looking over anyone who approaches and nodding in greeting.

II. Keeping or Offering an Edge - ADI headquarters

A lot of his spare time is spent in the target range and training rooms at ADI headquarters. Patrols are easy, but they don't keep you sharp. And he needs to keep sharp, especially as he's found his strength and speed... a little lacking, around here. So he can't depend on it without maintenance. Plus, maintenance helps with the pain from the arm.

So he maintains. Strength exercises, shadowboxing, practicing his aim with guns, flipping and throwing knives.

And if he sees anyone in either room looking lost or clearly struggling, he drifts over. Clasps his hands behind his back and ducks his head. "I can help train," he offers.

III. Exploration - Around town

He doesn't want to be taken by surprise by any path he'll be asked to take for ADI or for a person who needs rescued or killed, or ever be unaware of ambush points, so he does a lot of exploring around town, too. Poking his nose into shops, prowling around suburbs and apartment complexes, and looking up at trees in the park. He doesn't ever sit down in a restaurant or on a bench, but he loiters outside the former and watches the latter like he expects them to bite him, though someone could possibly convince him to try either one.

More than once he gets the cops called on him, because he does most of his wandering around in his full mask and goggles, face comfortably obscured. It helps him feel stronger, for some reason, and it means he doesn't have to deal with making eye contact or controlling his expression. Fellow ADI transplants might find him staring in stony silence at a well-meaning police officer stammering through a warning to stop hanging around residential areas.

Wanna help out?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jeff's stepping out of the music store (another payment down on a used Fender Strat; thank god for layaway) when he sees the guy standing out on the corner, all eerie and still in the face of a nervous-looking cop.

Normally, Jeff would shrug it off as none of his business and walk away. He doesn't know the guy, and he'd really rather not get involved with cops if he can avoid it.

But he recognizes Mr. Tall Dark and Eerie from the ADI. Jeff may not go around there often (preferring to avoid it about as much as he likes to avoid cops) but the whole mask-and-goggles look is memorable enough from even his few, brief visits.

So maybe it's some misfit solidarity that has Jeff moving over to them, catching the tail-end of the cop stammering something about how he's making people uncomfortable, loitering around with that mask on his face.

"Dude, there you are! Bad news, the paintball game got cancelled, 'cause... it might... rain."

Yes. They're paintball players. That's why the strong silent guy is wearing a mask and goggles. Nevermind that Jeff looks like he's never set foot in a paintball field before in his life. (Because he hasn't.) He's probably never even held a Nerf gun before, let alone a paintball gun.

"Um. Sorry, officer. Sir." Polite and deferential, Jeff's doing his best to channel his big brother: good, clean, and all-American. "I accidentally gave my cousin the wrong address, and he's really shy, so, uh, this is all just a misunderstanding, I swear. We'll just be going now..."

Jeff gets a blank look. Or, well, probably a blank look. It's hard to tell behind the mask and goggles. But the cop is happy to latch onto any explanation, especially as Jeff is not tall, dark, and eerie. All manner of boys play paintball, right?

"Well, go on, then," the cop says. "No more loitering on street-corners scaring the kids."

Which is ridiculous, because the kids were not scared. The adults were. "One of the kids asked me if I had a face," he says flatly, but he does turn away, towards wherever Jeff came from. He's had all the attention he wants today. Probably more than he wants, truth be told.

Jeff salutes the cop with an "Aye aye," because that's what you're supposed to do, right? Right. He turns tail and follows after his 'paintball buddy,' eyeing the other man curiously now that the immediate threat of law enforcement is out of the way.

"So... Do you have a face?" A beat, then he adds, "I'm not trying to get you to show me or anything. You don't even have to tell me the truth. Sometimes it's more fun to lie about these things."

Edited 2021-09-05 23:30 (UTC)

Coming from a six year old boy, the question had made sense. Anything is possible, when you're six years old. Coming from Jeff, a full grown man, it seems like a stupid question. "Yes."

And, to prove it, he pulls the goggles off and looks sidelong in Jeff's direction, though he doesn't make eye contact. At the very least, he has eyes. That's a pretty important part of a face.

Excuse you, Bucky, Jeff's a singing wizard who recently teamed up with a talking cat, and was chased around by swamp horses, and then rescued by a seal, so a faceless person would be a perfectly reasonable thing to expect here!

But that being said: Jeff is pretty stupid, and there's bound to be even more asinine questions to follow.

He looks at the other man-- what he can see of his face, anyway-- and nods. His gaze doesn't linger, though. Jeff's pretty sure the longer he stares, the more uncomfortable they'll both feel.

"Cool." He shrugs a shoulder. "You could've lied, though. Played up the mystery."

Then: "So where are we off to?" We, like this is an adventure that Jeff's just invited himself along for.

"I do not lie."

For a weapon with no real sense of self, the thing that is not James Buchanan Barnes can be pretty judgmental sometimes. He just mostly does it safely on the inside of his head, or behind a mask.

He doesn't really have an answer for the question, though, as he's most likely just going to do another circuit of the city until the it gets close enough to curfew to need to get back. "Where were you going?"

Jeff stops in his tracks for a moment, looking around as if he's not sure, himself. "I don't know." Then he starts again, with no direction in mind. At least it'll get them further away from the cop, even if all they're doing is wandering around aimlessly.

He looks over at the other man and explains, unprompted, "I was just putting some cash down on a guitar." Jeff points back at the music store, like there's anywhere else he would've been buying a guitar. "It's pretty expensive, so I can't afford it yet, but I think of it, like, an investment? 'Cause once I've got a solid, you know, workhorse kind of guitar, I can get some real gigs, and it'll pay for itself. So every time I get a little bit of cash from the ADI, I bring it here and put another payment down."

He's rambling. None of this is of any relevance to anyone but Jeff. It occurs to him that he doesn't know this guy's name, and the guy probably doesn't know his, so without skipping a beat in his step, he glances aside and offers his hand to shake. "I'm Jeff."

Edited 2021-09-14 14:57 (UTC)

Guess who isn't even sure what a guitar is? This guy. He listens without a word, no sign of expression on his face, unable to think of a single thing to say. Maybe it's a kind of gun? That would make sense with the "gig" comment, and it possibly costing a lot of money. There aren't a lot of guns he's never heard of, though.

Finally there's something to respond to that he understands. "Hello, Jeff," he says solemnly. He does not, weirdly, offer his own name in return. Rambly dude is going to have to ask. Sorry, man. Then, he offers: "I can walk you home."

Oh no, don't let Jeff find out or he'll just enthusiastically shove a thousand guitar solos your way in the name of musical education. Maybe he'd even make a playlist or two, now that he has a Spotify account...

In any case, Jeff seems amenable to the offer, and he nods. "Sure. You ever been to Bonnie's before? That's where I live. It's pretty cool, everyone's nice and you can come and go whenever you want."

Then: "Hey, dude, you got a name? What should I call you?"

"I have been to Bonnie's." He walked Wanda there once, and he comes by now and then to prowl around the place and keep an eye on her there.

He doesn't quite sigh at the question, though maybe he might like to. Instead, he changes their direction slightly to start towards Bonnie's. "People here have been calling me Winter."

August Catch-all

iii

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sorry for the delay! had a combo of unexpected hiatus and getting swept up in the event

no worries!

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my turn to take a little to reply, oof

nah you're good!

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