yourbestguysgun | Entries tagged with -- where: poly-chromatic

[ Bucky's feed flickers on, the camera pointed up and above his head to where a sprig of mistletoe is sitting. He probably doesn't realise they're cursed right now, as evident from the laugh in his voice when he talks, the camera swinging back down to his amused and very smug grin. He's outside somewhere, wearing the scarf Steve's landlady had given him, tucked up under his chin. It's a little cold, but he doesn't seem bothered by it, too busy smirking. ]

Ah, my favourite part of the holiday season, ain't nobody allowed to say it different.

[ Really, he has no right to sound like a kid in a sweet shop, but there you go. He does, and he's not actually attempting to hide it. Mostly because he's an impossible charmer and he likes the ladies. ]

(( ooc: Posting and running for the daily activities but I knew I'd forget later. If you want to find Bucky and attack his face, please feel free. It can be as awkward as all hell too. Because I will laugh forever. ))

[ There's a clear view of the Rogers-Barnes kitchen coming through on the feed, Bucky hunched over the counter with a pen and a pad of paper, a half bitten pen between his fingers. He scrawls for a minute before it ends up propped by a coffee mug for the whole world to see. Why, he has no idea, it just feels like a good idea at the time. ]

Dear Santa,

Sorry I told Steve y'weren't real when we were eight, okay buddy? It was a mistake, but Johnny did tell me first, so I can't be blamed for the big fuss it caused, right? Anyway, I figure as it is the season an' all, I should write.

For Christmas I kinda only want like a few things, so don't worry.

A carton of those fancy cigarettes Jones smokes, cause I kinda miss the taste.
A bagel from Marcy's Diner, that's impossible, I got it, but you don't get good cream cheese here like Marcy does.
My Johnson. I guess Santa don't know much about guns, so it's the M1941. We served well together. And I want mine, not just anyones, it's kinda important.
For the people I care about to catch a break, okay?
I want Steve to have a good Christmas. Yeah, I don't care, he's usually sick, or alone, or working, and then there's the war, and I just want him to have a good time, so you can ignore the crap I've written there if you do this one thing for me. If anyone can swing it, it'd be you.

Thanks,

J. Barnes.

[ There's a moment of silence as it all finally registers, and Bucky starts swearing. ] Oh, you've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me, what is this crap?

[ Then the pad is snatched up, Bucky's hand hovering in place holding an old silver lighter, and the whole thing goes up in smoke. ] Shit. [ Feed snapped off. ]

-- Damn, maybe I should'a paid attention in Sunday school after all.

[ Bucky's feed is a little hazy, like he's outside and also running but where to, and towards what, it's not quite clear. There's a laugh in his voice, something kind of breathless and rough, 'cause Bucky's from the school of laugh at it until it kills you and he's not going to change now. Especially when they've taken someone Bucky actually gives a crap about. Then he gets really pissed, drops all of that smiling, charming, Bucky Barnes and becomes this. ]

Ain't anybody told you there ain't much point cryin' over spilt milk? Sonova-

[ Which gets almost cut in half at the sound of a gun firing a round and complete and utter silence for a moment. ]

Well, made me feel better anyhow. Anyone got a sledgehammer t'give these things a proper fuckin' welcome?

[ The feed starts out with Bucky's voice, soft and a little different, the kind only used around small children, animals, and very occasionally when he's very drunk, Steve. Then there's a blur of colour, as Hypnos steps off the device and to where Bucky's sitting on Charlie's floor, back to the sofa. He's got one knee crooked so his elbow is resting on it, the other hand tapping the ground enticingly.

Bucky thinks cat toys are weird, so he's mostly trailing a string the same green as his sweater, frayed sleeve pushed up by his elbow. He doesn't seem aware that his device is even on, because he probably wouldn't be so unguarded, calling the cat with a cluck of his tongue. ] C'mon, killer. Y'gotta learn these natural instincts some day or other. How else y'gonna protect your Mom's home, huh? [ Tugging the string slightly, like talking to a cat is just fine and dandy. ] We'll learn it, and then you'll be the meanest cat around, y'here? All those other cats, they'll just run the opposite way, 'cause you rule the roost round here, yeah?

[ Okay. Maybe Bucky always wanted a pet. Sue him. And maybe Hypnos is following the path of it now, so score one for the soldier. ]

[ So. Bucky needs a job. And possibly a new place to stay because he can't keep forcing Steve out to the couch every night. It's hardly sporting, is it? And Bucky's not the kinda guy who'd make his best friend uncomfortable.

Which is why he's here on video, on general instruction. ] So - uh. I hear this is how you do it. I'm looking for a job. I'm an - well - ex-sergeant, I guess? Punching is so far my greatest skill. [ With a slight roguish grin. ] I'm strong, resourceful, can work a whole heap of hours.

[ Rubbing the back of his neck slightly, a huff of a laugh escaping him. ] Anyone out for hired muscle?

[ He goes to switch the device off before catching himself. ] Oh, and 'fore I forget, how does the whole moving thing work around here? 'Cause I can't see no rhyme nor reason to it all. Figure I jus' need to be filled in.

And that's all for now, kids. [ Switching off. ]

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so long to all my friends,

every one of them met tragic ends.

Entries tagged with -- where: poly-chromatic

→ i'ma bleed a little poison out

→ you get mistaken for strangers by your own friends

→ it's a terrible love and i'm walking through spiders

→ you got wires going in, you got wires coming out of your skin

→ i was far away

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