ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ (
freightcars) wrote2019-02-05 09:37 pm
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Duplicity Inbox

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"We're sorry, you have dialed a number which cannot be reached. Please leave a message after the tone. When you are satisfied with your message, hang up or press star for more options."
post-executions; text; un: zer0g
ooc: i also put up a section in her event log for more rebellion plotting here.
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the sooner the better
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text ● un; hymn
It's the memory of her time with Bucky that haunts her the most. It's why, when he next checks his phone, there will be a message from a familiar, but maybe surprising, handle. ]
i didn't thank you, for what you did for me in the forest
so
thank you
i am glad bucky was there,
and that the weapon was dormant.
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It's something.
There are long minutes spent thinking before he replies, considering correcting her on the last statement.
(bucky is the weapon.)
Ultimately, he sends: ]
it was the right thing to do.
[ Because he doesn't deserve to be thanked, and chasing any other avenue here would be the wrong move. ]
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It's who she is. This is who she is. And these are words typed and exchanged, which makes doing this easier. ]
i know that
you shouldn't be thanked for just doing the right thing, i know that too but
doing the right thing should be easy.
but it isn't, sometimes
not for people like you
not for... anyone, when something darker calls to them so sweetly
but you're fighting
that's important, and that's why i'm thanking you
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His answer might be underwhelming, and that's only because of how much he actively isn't saying. ]
You're welcome.
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bucky
if i asked you something,
would you give me an honest answer?
[ It's a stupid question. She knows it the moment she types it and yet, for some reason, she still hits send. ]
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If I couldn't, I'd tell you why
So ask
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do you have a favourite flower
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my mother loved them
any color but white
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those are pretty. i have seen them in orange and red before, i thought they looked like a sunset
why not white?
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most things are better, when they are touched by colour
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i panicked
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I'm pretty sure I'm the one person in this place you can say literally anything to and get away with it, no consequences
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i feel like all i've done is cry and interrogate you
but i
i wanted to know
if you've hurt anyone else
since me
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I mean I
In the camp they had those fighting rings, they threw me into that just like they did everyone else, but that's
No. Nothing like that.
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i lost
my
footing was off
without my magic it's healed strangely
but... alright
that's good
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I get it
my arm
healed strangely how?
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it
there's a scar
[ That's it, that's literally it. ]
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I guess you could say that
there's something in me that heals me, or it's supposed to
it disappeared in that place
you never had a scar before?
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except for when it's blocked by something external, i guess
well
i have a few little ones
the bigger ones, you can't see on this plane
[ And here she's internally screaming because immediately she decides she wants to take that detail back, but she's already hit send so- ]
not important what i mean is
i rely on healing magic, and healing magic usually works too fast to allow for scarring this visible
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when I was a soldier, I got taken in as a prisoner of war twice
the first time they were experimenting with stuff in the camp they held me at
they made this serum, this
formula
Whatever you'd call it where you're from
That's where I get the healing, the strength, the stamina.
It's not really magic, it's
Bastard science.
[ Since they're in the business of sharing history tonight apparently.
But about that plane thing...
She's shifting off of it pretty quick, so it sticks in his mind all the more. ]
they make lotion you can put on scar tissue
creams
probably won't ever go away but it makes them fade
[ Not that they ever worked on the patchwork scars around his arm, but even the serum couldn't heal those right. ]
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so it is a part of you?
it is just a part of your composition now... bastard science enhancement
do they?
maybe i will try
i don't know how to feel about it
my mother told me that every scar has a story, even if it's stupid or painful, and that we should not be ashamed of our stories. that they are signs that we have grown, and that we have survived
but, then again
she did not have many scars, herself
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pretty much, in a nutshell
james "bastard science enhancement" barnes.
i think it's okay to want to get rid of some scars
doesn't mean we're ashamed
means we don't want to remember
sometimes how we got the scar isn't a choice, but keeping it might be.
guess you gotta ask yourself
what does it remind you of when you look at it
and how does that memory make you feel
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but they have also made me who i am,
so i wonder, who i would be if i did
when i look at this one
there is pain
cold
dirt, grass, exhaustion, tears, failed magic
metal,
not metal, stars, and
you
i don't know how i feel
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If it were me.
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i will try that
i can wear my high socks until then, i guess
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Smart
action
It wasn't really shame, though his walk was a little hitched. However the disheveled state of his clothes and hair along with the debauched bruised lips and the scent of sex that still clung to him was pretty telling.
He was thoroughly, sexually wrecked.
Will carried his boots, socks stuffed in them as he came through the door and tossed them off to the side where shoes tended to collect. Brushing his hand through his hair, Will weighed going to take a shower first or talking to Bucky first. In the end there was no question of what took priority; clear communication, as they had promised one another. But some water was also desperately needed.
Standing at the sink, filling a glass from the tap, Will called out. ]
Bucky? Are you home?
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He's been outrunning his head. Or, rather, trying to.
When he ambles in, it's with that towel still thrown over one broad shoulder and palms sliding over the damp strands of hair that have come loose from a ponytail at the back of his neck. He pauses mid-step when he spots Will, eyes flickering over him, eyebrow arching up a little.
Something looks different. He can't tell what, it just... does. ]
Hey.
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It wasn't about being sexy. It was about mental demons and Will had to accept that Bucky wasn't ready (might never be ready) for Will to try to help combat them.
But he still took a moment to drink half his glass of water and enjoy the view. Lowering the glass, and his lips hopefully before Bucky scolded him, Will weighed his best approach to this situation. He leaned his hands on the counter, shifting his footing a little to a more comfortable position and drumming his fingers on the granite before he realized there really was only one way to do this. ]
I had sex with Cable.
I was down in his apartment, talking to him about how to get on the police force and apparently he was affected by whatever it was that inspired me to climb you -inappropriately- against the refrigerator door.
He was big, growly and being all Dominant at me and retreat has never been virtue of mine.
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There is, of course, an animalistic spike of jealousy that immediately blossoms from his lizard-brain. He allows it time to fade and pass, flicker out and die like a tea light. Will has had sex with other people before, mostly submissives, mostly women. Something about getting dominated by another man strikes him as different somehow, not in a way verging on sexism but in more of a territorial fashion.
But they have an agreement about this. They have an understanding. Bucky has sex with various people himself, and Will has always been thoughtful and respectful about is feelings.
As far as dominants go, Cable is an okay choice. They've met, they've talked, they've shared a few moments among the three of them, and if it were going to be anybody...
One last piece of possessiveness stirs in him at a fact he needs to touch on- big, growly, being all dominant at me-
Slowly, carefully, with fingers curling: ]
He didn't hurt you?
[ Just checking. Making sure. ]
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Will knew that he did not ask Bucky for any lurid details for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, it was none of his business. Second Will was self-aware enough to recognize that while he understood the nature of this place, as well as the nature of his relationship with Bucky, he would still feel a pinch of jealousy if he thought too closely on the individual encounters.
For both their comfort and happiness Will understood he needed to keep his own possessiveness at bay. Keeping away from the details assisted him in maintain a detached perspective that helped keep him from obsessing on the nights when Bucky either didn't come home, or had the doors to the master suite firmly closed.
He had come off the elevator thinking to use the same approach, even if their perspectives on the conversation were switched. He knew he would let Bucky know what had happened, that disclosure was never in question, but I figured to keep the specifics to himself. Will suspected that Bucky wouldn't pursue them, but as they talked, as he watched Bucky's fingers curl, Will realized that he wasn't entirely sure what his Dominant's response might include.
This was unknown territory and so Will's response was direct, rather than flip and delivered in a calm tone. ]
Nothing I didn't give back. [ He confirmed, looking Bucky directly in the eye. He was still erring on the side of caution when it came to details, but he did want to be clear and honest that at no point -even if it had been rough- had Will be worried for his safety. ]
I wouldn't have tolerated disrespect from him.
[ Not meant to imply that Bucky had ever disrespected Will (without consent in play) but Bucky was afforded a lot more trust and the leeway that came with it. Cable had been given clear boundaries and had respected those boundaries. Just as he had when the three of them had engaged in the table play. ]
in case we get locked from the comms;
[ bucky pulls back and jack's still pushing, shoulders curling in, hands on his arms curling fingers in tight and pull at him, head trying to duck forward and capture his lips again and cut off any kind of discussion. he isn't fast enough, or strong enough, and the question ends up a firm interruption, jack blinking back to bucky's eyes.
why?
he doesn't want to think about why. he just wants to do it, follow the urge until it's snuffed out, not think about where it came from or where it's going or what the consequence of it are, he just wants, and isn't that the point of this place? want and take? ]
I miss you. [ jack tells him eventually, and it isn't a lie. he does miss him. he aches for him, for the way they were before the fort, for everything bucky usually is for him, but it's been twisted since then, and jack can't tell if the vitriol he feels for it is safe enough to indulge without risking it splash back to bucky, and poison them both further. so it's this - violence towards them, nothing but a fierce want and desire for bucky. if he goes fast enough, hard enough, maybe that'll burn away the rest of it. ] And I need it.
Now.
[ before what's built up in his head explodes into something else. help him get lost from it. ]
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Flesh fingers ghost along Jack's jaw, giving him something if perhaps not exactly what he's asking for. He thumbs along Jack's lips, then slips his fingers into Jack's hair. ]
You haven't put a hand on me since the fort, now we're surrounded by goddamn corpses and you wanna pretend like this is normal? Like this is what we are?
[ It's not. They're not rooted in violence and darkness, even if they both err that way sometimes. That's not what he wants them to be, though.
That's not what Steve would want them to be. ]
I wanna give you what you want, but I want you to be okay more than that. I wanna talk about what happened.
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jack's adam's apple bobs as he swallows, tension immediately strung through him, before he glances to the side, turning his head in bucky's hands to look over at the 'surrounded by goddamn corpses' issue. not really normal, is it? no, of course not, and he'd known that when he did it. his eyes linger over the broken, lifeless bodies. ]
I feel... powerful.
[ maybe that was the idea. maybe normal has been entirely too vulnerable for him. violence and darkness have been the only things that have protected him from wounds like this, or, at least, so jack tells himself. jack sinks in, hands creeping up bucky's chest as he leans against him. ]
Imagine if I could do this in Shiloh. David, my parents, the entire city would be nothing compared to me. The pain, the loss, the humiliation - I could've skipped all of it. [ jack's voice is a quiet murmur, but there's something desperate with it, something fragile. he swallows, eyes glancing down, the last one said softer. ] If I could've had it in the forest.
[ he could've saved the both of them. held bucky back until the drug left him, or at least until jack could calm down enough to accept what they needed to do. to give something more like consent than eventual surrender. ]
I'll be okay when I can't have it taken from me anymore.