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Entry tags:
- *mission log,
- addison parker [original],
- ahsoka tano [star wars],
- anakin skywalker [star wars],
- angel [borderlands],
- aoba seragaki [dramatical murder],
- bellamy blake [the 100],
- bucky barnes [mcu],
- carata,
- cathaway,
- clint barton [mcu],
- hux [star wars],
- ilde vilmaine [original],
- lexa [the 100],
- nirad,
- petre dodrescu [original],
- rhys [borderlands],
- sam alexander [marvel 616],
- sam anders [battlestar galactica],
- sam wilson [mcu],
- steve rogers [mcu],
- the darkling [grisha trilogy]
[MISSION LOG] BRAVE NEW WORLD
CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: Day :000 - ???
SUMMARY: Leaving the Station; the arrival and first days on Concordia. Concordia pt.1.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.
IT'S EARLY IN THE DAY and something feels strange. It’s not unlike when a new Host - not one of your brood, but close enough to feel the tug - comes awake on the Nesting Deck. But it’s just the initial tug. There’s no noise, no hum of confusion or volume. Today, it’s just there: a sensation of presence that a moment ago wasn’t. Soon after follows a prickling awareness of urgency. A small electric bolt through the mind. Cathaway doesn’t use words in the mind, but her meaning is nonetheless easily understood: come to her on the hangar; your presence is required.
On the hangar there is a sleek, low profile transport ship. Before it stand Cathaway and Prince and in their company is a stranger: a short woman with warm skin and dark hair, wearing unfamiliar colorful clothes and a quick, pleasant smile. You’ve never seen her before, but you know she’s a Host.
“This is them?” Her voice is light and sweet. Prince, occupied by a databank, glances up at her then nods once. There’s a tension in his shoulder and through his jaw - a distinct contrast to Cathaway and the stranger who lack both.
“Lovely.” Her tone is breezy and easy, delighted. “Hello, it is so nice to meet you all! My name is Carata. My partner and I have been away on duty for a few months, but it’s become clear that we need backup on our assignment. We are hoping you can help.” Carata motions to the mission equipment in neat kits at her feet. There is one for each young Host.
Prince folds his pad down into its smallest form. His expression is set and serious.
“You will be joining Carata and Nirad on the planet below to assist them with their mission. Your datapbank will provide you with information about the planet and the city where you will be stationed. This mission is covert and the planet itself has no contact with other planetary races, so you will need to do your utmost to blend in.”
Cathaway sharpens slowly beside them: a dull pencil being sharpened to a point as her attention curves back to this place, this instance. She unfolds her hands. “You’ll be provided with an earpiece that should allow you to interface with the local technology and a fake identity for your cover on world. Please mind both carefully and be sure to keep your databanks offline. It would be inconvenient if they were networked while on planet.” From the way she says it, it sounds like ‘inconvenient’ might be an understatement. “This mission shouldn’t be inherently life threatening. Your primary goal is to investigate the anti-android movement. Carata and Nirad will be able to tell you what your databanks do not.”
“You should listen to them,” Prince adds. “Rely on their experience and knowledge to help you succeed in your task. Be mindful, and treat them with the respect they have earned.”
At this Carata laughs. It’s a bright, joyful sound, her hands coming up to clasp in front of her chest, “Please, teacher, you are too serious. I am sure they will do very well. Come along then! Gather your things; we must leave as soon as possible. I do hate to leave Nirad alone for too long.”
Turning her back to the Hosts, Carata takes Cathaway’s hand for a moment Nothing is said, but there’s the distinct impression of something passing between them. They release their grip, then Carata turns to Prince. She places her hands on his shoulders and goes up to her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t return the gesture, but those with sharp eyes will note he does lean down slightly to make her job easier.
Gather your gear, get anything from your rooms you might not want to leave behind. In two hours, everyone attending the mission will be buckled or strapped into the transport as Carata readies the ship for takeoff. She explains, neatly and concisely, what they believe the enemy to be doing in Concordia. Then, with a turning of the deck, the ship is freed from the embrace of Station 72.
It will be a long time before you see this place again.
((OOC Notes: This is the catchall log for the first stages of the Concordia mission. You'll notice there's no set ending date, so use this log however you like - alternatively, feel free to start your own logs in the setting! Don't worry; we'll be keeping a close eye on things, so if something big starts to happen that necessitates a new long, we'll make sure to keep our bases covered and all of y'all updated. Just be aware that dating forward farther than :010 may get a little dicey.
If you have any mission specific questions, direct them to the OOC post here.))
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: Day :000 - ???
SUMMARY: Leaving the Station; the arrival and first days on Concordia. Concordia pt.1.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.
IT'S EARLY IN THE DAY and something feels strange. It’s not unlike when a new Host - not one of your brood, but close enough to feel the tug - comes awake on the Nesting Deck. But it’s just the initial tug. There’s no noise, no hum of confusion or volume. Today, it’s just there: a sensation of presence that a moment ago wasn’t. Soon after follows a prickling awareness of urgency. A small electric bolt through the mind. Cathaway doesn’t use words in the mind, but her meaning is nonetheless easily understood: come to her on the hangar; your presence is required.
On the hangar there is a sleek, low profile transport ship. Before it stand Cathaway and Prince and in their company is a stranger: a short woman with warm skin and dark hair, wearing unfamiliar colorful clothes and a quick, pleasant smile. You’ve never seen her before, but you know she’s a Host.
“This is them?” Her voice is light and sweet. Prince, occupied by a databank, glances up at her then nods once. There’s a tension in his shoulder and through his jaw - a distinct contrast to Cathaway and the stranger who lack both.
“Lovely.” Her tone is breezy and easy, delighted. “Hello, it is so nice to meet you all! My name is Carata. My partner and I have been away on duty for a few months, but it’s become clear that we need backup on our assignment. We are hoping you can help.” Carata motions to the mission equipment in neat kits at her feet. There is one for each young Host.
Prince folds his pad down into its smallest form. His expression is set and serious.
“You will be joining Carata and Nirad on the planet below to assist them with their mission. Your datapbank will provide you with information about the planet and the city where you will be stationed. This mission is covert and the planet itself has no contact with other planetary races, so you will need to do your utmost to blend in.”
Cathaway sharpens slowly beside them: a dull pencil being sharpened to a point as her attention curves back to this place, this instance. She unfolds her hands. “You’ll be provided with an earpiece that should allow you to interface with the local technology and a fake identity for your cover on world. Please mind both carefully and be sure to keep your databanks offline. It would be inconvenient if they were networked while on planet.” From the way she says it, it sounds like ‘inconvenient’ might be an understatement. “This mission shouldn’t be inherently life threatening. Your primary goal is to investigate the anti-android movement. Carata and Nirad will be able to tell you what your databanks do not.”
“You should listen to them,” Prince adds. “Rely on their experience and knowledge to help you succeed in your task. Be mindful, and treat them with the respect they have earned.”
At this Carata laughs. It’s a bright, joyful sound, her hands coming up to clasp in front of her chest, “Please, teacher, you are too serious. I am sure they will do very well. Come along then! Gather your things; we must leave as soon as possible. I do hate to leave Nirad alone for too long.”
Turning her back to the Hosts, Carata takes Cathaway’s hand for a moment Nothing is said, but there’s the distinct impression of something passing between them. They release their grip, then Carata turns to Prince. She places her hands on his shoulders and goes up to her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t return the gesture, but those with sharp eyes will note he does lean down slightly to make her job easier.
Gather your gear, get anything from your rooms you might not want to leave behind. In two hours, everyone attending the mission will be buckled or strapped into the transport as Carata readies the ship for takeoff. She explains, neatly and concisely, what they believe the enemy to be doing in Concordia. Then, with a turning of the deck, the ship is freed from the embrace of Station 72.
It will be a long time before you see this place again.
I. THE WHEELS ON THE BUS
The flight to Concordia is surprisingly short. By the time Carata's finished her explanation, you've passed into a new universe. It comes with a strange wave of something akin to nausea. Outside the transport's starboard viewports lays Opia in all it's glory: a beautiful blue marble speckled with sixteen landmasses and swathed in thing clouds like spun sugar. From this distance, clusters of light burn from specific points on the continents like a map of grounded constellations. As one of the great megacities of Opia comes curling from around the edge of the planet, the transport ship begins to descend.
Atmospheric entry is smooth. The transport drops at the outskirts of Concordia on what is, hilariously, some kind of large parking garage. It has engaged the most sophisticated of its cloaking technology to do this and Carata urged everyone to disembark quickly so the ship can return to orbiting the planet before it's detected.
"It will be back," she says flippantly. "When we've finished our job."
The ship departs. It's quiet and still for a handful of minutes; Carata seems unconcerned and gives little in the way of direction or instruction. The city flashes around them - bright lights and neon masking the fading of natural light - and nearby, a roadway hums. Eventually the sound of a car pitches louder. A set of headlamps shear from the long line of cars and in moments a long, squarish transport van pulls up and parks at the top of the garage. The side door slides open to admit everyone. In the driver's seat is an android - shining metal and cheerful as it greets every host by name. Beside the android in the van's passenger seat sits a tall, dark skinned man who - much like Carata - is obviously a host.
Welcome to Concordia.
II. HOME SWEET HOME
It's a long drive into the city. The buildings get taller, the lights get brighter, the streets get busier. There are throngs of people on the street, dogged by endless rows of neon bright advertisements. Traffic is either miserable or flowing depending on the neighborhood and trams run on tracks fifty feet or more above the roadways. Streams of people files from the pavement to the subways, countless numbers of escalators leading down.
When the bus finally stops, it's in front of a building as tall as any others. The signs here mark this section of the city as BETA BLOCK and when you get out and into the building lobby you find that the door opens for you automatically. A chime rings through the interfacing ear piece and when you enter the elevators, the only floor accessible to you is NUMBER EIGHTEEN. When you disembark, a kind voice welcomes you by home in your ear. There are a large number of rooms here in Bearing - stake your claim, everyone! Nirad and Carata already have a couple of rooms in the Southwest corner of the building, but the rest are open. Time to settle in!
III. FEET ON THE GROUND
You're given the rest of the night to sleep (or...whatever), but by 9AM the next morning everyone is awoken by Carata's voice in their head. She's clearly not shy of using her symbiotic connection.
( Good morning! I know this is quite a lot to get used to. I believe this is your first true assignment? But I have always believed that the best way to learn something new is to jump right in. ) The words are accompanied by the sensation of someone clapping their hands together, a cheerful kind of practicality. ( You’ve been given a credit card. I encourage you to go out today and learn what you can about this place. Talk to people. Listen to the news. Be sure to remember your cover identity, and don’t hesitate to call if you find yourself in trouble. )
There is nothing pressing to the suggestion, just the sensation- light. Airy. Fun. She switches track after a moment, a thoughtful addition: ( There is also a rally in town today. It’s being run by The True Children of Opia, some minor little hate group-- ) She seems to wave off the unsavory aspects as she forges ahead, ( They aren’t affiliated with Humans + Humans 1st, but they do have very similar ideologies and it is quite probable that there is overlap in their membership. If you would rather, it is also quite likely that there will be protestors there as well, both members of Mind Life and those who are adamant about pursuing digital resurrection. Please do be careful, though, sometimes those rallies can be a little... ) An image of an oily substance catching flame, quickly and hotly.
( Whatever you chose, simply do your best to get your bearings. ) She seems to realize the unintended joke there, given the name of their current residence, and a bright happy flash of color accompanies it. What a delightful surprise. ( Prepare yourself for what is to come. Nirad and I will continue our investigation in the meantime. )
((OOC Notes: This is the catchall log for the first stages of the Concordia mission. You'll notice there's no set ending date, so use this log however you like - alternatively, feel free to start your own logs in the setting! Don't worry; we'll be keeping a close eye on things, so if something big starts to happen that necessitates a new long, we'll make sure to keep our bases covered and all of y'all updated. Just be aware that dating forward farther than :010 may get a little dicey.
If you have any mission specific questions, direct them to the OOC post here.))
no subject
Bucky's eyes narrow a touch at Sam's mention of their security system and the silent implication that Bucky can't take care of Steve with a door that doesn't lock. Though, Sam isn't exactly wrong. The yellows and greens coloring the side of Steve's face is proof of Bucky's incompetence.
He's not sure who he's angrier with: Sam or himself. Or maybe Steve for being so damn stubborn.
He's not worth all this trouble and, even without one arm, he can hurt people. It's only a matter of time; he's a bomb with a clock clicking closer and closer to zero.
There's a bit of silence in the air as Sam moves and Bucky doesn't mind it much, only blinking when he's addressed again.] No.
[The book was sitting back in Bearings still and was not one of the things hurriedly tucked into his pack after the nightmare.]
no subject
( I know. ) [ That it's more than missing memories plaguing Bucky. There's a stack of papers tucked away somewhere detailing that.
The air in the room is thick with guilt, between that and his own brick walls Steve keeps what he's learned turned inward, little is left to slip through the cracks and through the broodlink with Sam. Doesn't feel right, like the moment before you strain a muscle. It'd be easy to stop, let the secondhand memories pass between them. ]
( But it's not just the memories from before. He's missing things from yesterday, told me he doesn't remember the fight. ) [ Took him a second to recognize Steve after that, and it wasn't because he got hit in the head.
Sam's right though, there's probably ways for them to find out for sure what's been done - but Bucky's not going to let anyone near his head anytime soon.
(Steve thinks of Ren and Cathaway, of Hux's explanation - it turns his stomach)
It's harder for Steve to maintain two conversations at once like this, he ends up staring at the wall, jaw clenched. When Bucky says no he's not sure what Sam even asked. ]
no subject
( That's... not right. )
[ alarmingly so. that's new, and it's deeply concerning, not only for steve and bucky, but if it's something to do with the symbiote, it could be something others will pick up as well. ] ( Jessica didn't start forgetting anything before she went out. No one has. )
[ and yet, it doesn't make sense. prince has had his for at least 40 years and retains himself. bucky's still so new, and had been trying to hard to block all of this out and reject it. that may be part of it. him rejecting the symbiote so hard it's messing up his mental stability. the notion of it is sent tentatively through the connection, to steve, but he'd rather not put such solid words to it. he doesn't want them to jump any guns. ]
( Could it be something about whatever happened to him? His mind's a mess, Steve. Someone did something to his head. ) [ like scrambled eggs, from the flashes Sam had seen before. the memory loss could just be something injured, or some kind of psychological issue. trauma suppression, ptsd. he sure as hell fits the bill, and that's supplied as well. Sam doesn't realize he's actually been sitting there staring at bucky for a long moment as he'd been thinking it over, and blinks rapidly, coming back to himself. ] Is the Nest still as loud for you as it was before?
no subject
It hits him when Sam looks over.
Pierce. It reminds him of the bank, of countless times before. No one talked to a weapon, not unless they needed something from him. He wasn't allowed to talk back unless prompted. This feels just like that, so heavy and weighty and uncomfortable and he doesn't do that anymore.
Except he already did. He's got a notification of a minor assault he doesn't remember doing.]
Stop it. [It doesn't matter what Sam said; Bucky's choosing not to answer. He doesn't have to. He's not a weapon anymore. He can choose. Sam's looking at him like the scientists, like Pierce, like he's nothing more than a lab experiment.]
no subject
Okay. Then you talk to us. [ he wants to add 'And stop looking at me like you're gonna stab me', but thinks better of it, continuing on. ] Because your friend here's trying to help you, and you're not making it easy on him.
[ he doesn't think bucky's a bad guy. he thinks he went through some bad shit, and he's messed up from it, and normally sam would say take your own sweet time, but if there's something going wrong inside his skull, that's something that needs taking care of sooner, rather than later. sam can tell you plenty about that, still sporting the nasty scar at the back of his neck from the bullet that was lodged in it.
he's no strange to missing memories either, and that's tenfold the bitch. ]
From what I know, you're missing memories from here, Concordia, right? What I told Steve just now was that no one else in the station's had that issue, so I'm thinking it's something going on with you. [ Look, you're in the conversation, so don't throw a fit about it, because one way or the other, it's being talked about. ]
Is it just the fight that's missing? [ a glance to steve, and back. ] Anything else from here?
no subject
His entire life is missing, scattered to the wind like feathers, and it's not getting easier to recall, either. Every piece he gets back is drenched in blood and screams and terror he caused.
He killed people. Lots of them.
This shouldn't be Steve's fight, but here they are anyway.]
no subject
His gaze flicks between the two of them, settling on Bucky again. ]
You don't remember blacking out any other time since you've been here? [ None of the other hosts have had that problem before, or at least admitted to it. Sam's silent suspicions that it might be Bucky rejecting the symbiote is something he's considered too. ]
/jumps back in here real quick since bucky kinda needs to answer that question
They don't trust him. Hell, he doesn't trust himself.
He's not even a properly working weapon anymore. Instead, emotions and memories have gummed up the bolt action, leaving him useless and ultimately broken. It's not Steve's job to fix him, there is no fixing him.
What limited patience he has with himself has worn into microscopic threads. Why can't he be better? Why can't he shake off HYDRA? Why isn't he strong enough?] No one said the goddamn words, either.
[That's the worst part, he thinks, that he wasn't even triggered properly and he still went off. He's dangerous.]
no worries! i thought you might want to
Wait, words. What words? What do they do?
[ Are there words that made him black out in the past? Why would they have factored into it? There's a lot of emotional feedback still bleeding out from Bucky, more now, because apparently he's pissed, but Sam hardly needs the Nest connection to tell that. ]
Hey. This isn't your fault, okay? You can't help what you can't control, no matter how much of a badass you are. [ Maybe it doesn't mean anything coming from Sam, but he's saying it anyway. When it comes to things being rearranged in your head, there's nothing you can do with that. He ought to know, he'd spent what felt like his whole life thinking he was a completely different race because of someone playing around in his head. A quick glance to Steve, and he nudges him with an elbow rested on the table. ] And it's not yours either, so don't even start.
[ Anyway, he doesn't linger on it long, instead, pointing to the arm that's missing, having seen the mechanical bits back in Bearings. That seems just as sensitive a topic, but covering bases and all that. ]
Your cybernetics. Do you know how far they go? Anything tied into nervous system or into your head?
skip around turn order as you need to, it's all good
He'll ask about the words again later. For now, he waits again, trying to let Bucky answer without bombarding him with too many questions. ]
fabo
It moves when I want it to. [He rolls his metal shoulder and the pinned sleeve along with it as a demonstration.] Wasn't much of a learning curve.
[In regards to the words, though, he's not sure where exactly to start. When he hid in Bucharest, he took comfort in the belief that HYDRA- or anyone else, for that matter- couldn't make him do anything if they couldn't wipe him. That took machinery, setup, a power grid. Berlin changed that. All anyone needs to do is say ten words and he's ready to comply with any order.
He hasn't talked to Steve much about his programming and said nothing to anyone else on the subject. He trusts Steve well enough, but not with something like this; he can't trust Steve to not blame himself. Sam he just straight-up doesn't trust at all.]
aight
So that means it's wired into your neural network. Brain sends a signal, travels through nervous system, nervous system alerts cybernetic connectors, arm moves. [ Which means it has a path back to his brain, really, and Sam pausing for a moment, rubbing a hand at his chin. There'd be a way to check if it's the arm, but he's certain Barnes would punch him through a wall before letting it happen. ] Well, that's one theory.
[ he's not going to ask to do that unless it's the very last option. This guy's body has already been messed with enough.
But there's the distinct lack of explanation for the words. Great. ]
We don't need details, just what you mean by it. What would the words have done?
no subject
They... [His voice drops away. The words make everything simple, make everything black and white, kill or be killed. They make him the weapon again. Not permanently, maybe, but the weapon all the same.] Last time it happened, I killed people.
[Ten words is all it takes to take every inch of freedom he fought for away. Ten words to jerk him on the leash HYDRA so carefully crafted for their asset. Ten words to kill his only friend in this world.
Except it doesn't take ten words anymore. He doesn't know what triggers it. He's dangerous.]
no subject
At the explanation of the words he grimaces, averting his gaze. ]
Any chance someone could say them by accident? [ Bucky wasn't going to stop that night, not even when their attackers hit the ground. ]
no subject
[He bites his lip again and this time it bleeds, providing a small, distracting pinprick of pain to anchor him.] You should go back with him, Steve. It's not safe.
[I'm not safe.]
no subject
I'll go back when you come with me. [ These are his heels digging in again. These are the memories of one of only two people to stand at his side, take a hit for him. The only fear he has is for his friend, not of him. He can handle himself. ]
no subject
Hey, no one's leaving anyone, alright? [ quit that shit. drama queens up in here. so back to what's actually the issue here, and you boyfriends can sort out your feelings later. ]
Trigger words, is what he's talking about. [ He turns to tell Steve, because Bucky already knows what they are, clearly, but Sam makes the effort to glance between both of them while he's explaining. Seeing as Steve's still from a time when not a lot of any of this made sense. ] It's a mental trigger - a set of words, or a specific sound, for me it was a song. Steve, you remember I told, how I didn't know what I was and then one day it was like a flip switched, and I got that memory back? That's what it is. Mine made me remember, his makes him switch to a violent state, and blacks out his memory of it.
I was programmed, but with him - with you, Bucky - it was psychologically conditioned into you, it's a subconscious thing. So you can't stop it any more than you could stop yourself sleep talking. [ so, seriously, this isn't something you can fight by just muscling through it, homie. sam pauses there, though, and frowns. if no one said the words... ] But it wouldn't have started without the trigger words, that's the point of it. It's usually a set of stuff that you'd never accidentally have all together in a conversation. So if no one said it, and no one knows it here...
[ he frown, brows knit. two triggers for the same state, maybe? or an alternate state that's similar? why would you bother, though? ] What happened, right before your memory stops?
[ it's directed to both of them, as Bucky's mind was likely chaotic at the time, but Steve had been witness, at least. ]
no subject
I was leaving. [He doesn't gesture to the door, but figures he doesn't have to.
That and he doesn't remember anything past his boots contacting the pavement under his lintel. He doesn't know why he was leaving either, just that he was.]
no subject
His mouth twists. If it's difficult for him to grasp that someone's brain could be re-wired that way (Sam's not-entirely-human brain excluded), well, it won't be the first time since coming here that he's had to grapple with fiction becoming reality. He gives himself a second to mull that over, recalling the rest of the details as he can. ]
I came looking for him. [ eyeing Bucky to clarify ] It was late. Some guys started following me down the block so I ducked into a shop, not wanting to start any trouble. But then I - you know, felt you nearby - [ through the Nest ] - and when I went outside to see what was going on you were already fighting.
[ Shaking his head again - he doesn't know for sure who started the fight, or how it started. ]
no subject
There's another moment of quiet, while that all sinks in. Sam's fingers drumming on the table, as he rolls it over in his head. When it starts to slip into place, he speaks up sort of abruptly. ]
So it was Steve. [ Looking at Bucky, but pointing a finger to the side, at Steve. ] Why you went outside. You felt him through the mental link, he was in danger, whatever you're programmed with kicked in.
You were protecting him.
[ Well, that's good at least. That he can recognize an ally through that, or make his mind up on one. It's all sort of screwy, which isn't surprising. Even in Cylon minds, they'd started working against their programming. Little bits of things Sam new from before had showed up here or there. Well, that says something poignant and existential about life, probably, but this isn't a philosophy chat. ]
Whoever it is that did that to you, I'm guessing they did a frak up job, because it's breaking up. [ he doesn't really know enough about Bucky or what happened to him, but he seemed to have undergone some kind of brainwashing. see, as much as cylons tried to be human, humans already invented plenty of ways to try turning their own into machines. funny, that. except not really, it's just tragic. ] Steve, through the whole event, did he try to hurt you at all?
no subject
A beat, and he surfaces from his thoughts to answer the question, glancing over at Sam then to Bucky, Steve's quick to shake his head again. ]
You didn't. [ Even when Steve grabbed for his arm in the middle of it, there hadn't been any indication that Bucky meant to go after him. He just stopped and led them back to his hole in the wall. Maybe some part of Bucky was aware enough to tell friend or foe. More than that, it seemed like Bucky was following orders - and that's got Steve more uneasy. ]
no subject
So you, at least, aren't in any danger if he triggers again. I wouldn't think. [ It's hard to say one way or another. He's not a psychologist, and he's not going digging in Bucky's head for proof. But from what they know, that seems like the only thing that would've triggered it. If Steve had been right there, along with the other attackers, and if Bucky was just in all out assault mode, Steve would've been a target too. But he wasn't. More than that, he's the only thing that would've brought Bucky out in the street to begin with.
His attention turns to Bucky, who's been quiet so far, watching him for a second or two, before speaking up. ] As far as memory goes, I don't know. Messing around with brain stuff gets screwy, so maybe it'll come back.
[ as for the question of whether he's safe to be at Bearings or not. Well. ]
Honestly? All I can think is, so long as no one starts threatening Steve, and no one starts threatening you, you should be fine at Bearings. [ you, being Bucky. ] And really, man, you're a hell of a lot safer there than you are out here. We've at least got plenty of people that can stop you.
[ and are less likely to get completely wrecked by him, is the other part of that. there's really no telling what else will happen with him, if he's fighting through something so deeply embedded like this, but better he do it among people that can keep him safe, and keep him from hurting anyone else on accident. ]
no subject
That and they haven't addressed the bruising on Steve's face.
Something is missing from all this and he hates that he doesn't know what.]
no subject
[ Understands it on some level, even if it's not exactly the same. He wants Sam's explanation to be enough for Bucky, another voice to try to convince him that staying here isn't the best option - no matter how dangerous Bucky may or may not be. Better that he's surrounded by friends - or at least allies, in case something goes wrong again.
The images of his own face, the one that Clint Barton and Sam Wilson had brought with them too, that gets every muscle in Steve's body going tense, his spine stiff. ]
no subject
With a heavy sigh, Sam stands, grabbing the back of his chair and dragging it around to sit in front of Bucky instead, where he leans forward, and holds out his hands, palms up. ]
Look, I know I'm just some asshole who talks too damn much to you, and I get that, okay, I do. But I am here to help. Whatever happened with you, it was frakked up. Even if it was just messing with your head, and I don't think it was, that's frakked up on its own, and believe me, I know what it's like to blink and realize you don't know anything about who you are, where you came from, what you are, and whether or not you're about to hurt all the people you love the most. [ he pauses a moment, swallowing dryly, before continuing. ] I think you're on the right track to figuring all that out, but I swear, this is not the place to do it, man. This area's a frakking minefield, for someone like you especially.
I also know you can't just take my word on that, so. Here. [ he wiggles his fingers some, palms outstretched and offered, because physical contact always makes the link much stronger. ]
Dig around all you want, go through whatever you need to to make sure I'm being honest. I won't dig in your head at all, and if I tried, I'm pretty sure Steve'd knock me out cold in a second.
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