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tinker tailor winter soldier. ([personal profile] redactions) wrote in [community profile] thehometree2015-03-21 12:15 pm

( open )

| characters | Bucky and you.
| date/time | Thursday afternoon.
| location | Around
| rating | G.
| summary | The best way to greet your neighbours is to feed them.
| note | I wrote in prose but feel free to use brackets.



He falls asleep instantly on the moss bed, the smell of it familiar and steadying. Combat lends sleep of no restful kind but he barely dreams at all, waking up as soon as the first ray of light peers through the window. There's a moment of bewilderment, and then reality introduces itself to him all over again as he notices the wings are still there when he picks up his gem. He flattens them self-consciously, before finally deciding they take up too much space and leaves the gem carefully tucked under his pillow.

Breakfast, however, is the immediate problem. He saved some water from the rains and an edible mushroom, and it's boiling away merrily on the stove. The glow worm is unusually cooperative, but Bucky supposes that if he's now the size of a dragonfly it's not the weirdest thing in the world.

It's actually nice. He could get used to it.

Once the worm's been sent off with an appreciative scratch on the head, he picks up the large bowl of stew and starts knocking on a few doors.

'Hello?'
millionyearsentence: (hmm yeah that's true)

[personal profile] millionyearsentence 2015-03-22 07:46 am (UTC)(link)
[ Which war?

Wyrden looks confused for a moment, before she realizes that this man is probably from an earlier time. An time where nations could afford not to fight. ]


Uh... bit of a long story. Fighting's a normal part of life, where I come from. You could say the war's been going on for ever. As far as anyone can remember.

[ Longer than centuries, longer than millennia, even. Once humanity reached the stasis point where resource consumption equalled resource regeneration, it stagnated. ]
millionyearsentence: (vaguely concerned)

[personal profile] millionyearsentence 2015-03-22 07:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ It isn't her choice. No one had a choice. Not even Simeon. ]

We're working on that. There is hope, but it needs hard work to make it a reality.

[ The Casket had been one way. Now she only needed to bide her time until Simeon is ready to launch the assault for On High. What other grand plans that man had, she did not know. ]

No. sorry. [ A frown, and then: ] Which year?
millionyearsentence: (?!?!?!)

[personal profile] millionyearsentence 2015-03-22 08:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ 1945, 1945.... uhh.... ]

Are you using the old calendar? It'd be about a million years, maybe even more.

[ It was 1002014, the last time she remembered. ]
millionyearsentence: (mm yeah cool story bro)

[personal profile] millionyearsentence 2015-03-22 08:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ If he truly was from her world's past, then she supposes she'd need to give him a run-down of the whole situation. ]

Yeah. It's... not easy, honestly. [ She tilts her head, examining something on her hand for a moment before continuing. ] America, Asia, those names - they're of the old world, right? It's almost been forgotten completely.

[ The old world, when resources were still plentiful... It's something that her people can only envision in dreams. ]

I'm from Tokyo. It's the one name that's left, I think. [ Simeon skipped that part while telling her about the past, and the databases only had Japanese names. ] We don't live in nations anymore, only Panopticons. There aren't enough resources to go around anymore, so all the fighting's involved in taking them.

[ It's a dog eat dog world. ]

We get by, but once in a while Abductors from On High come to steal and pillage. That's when most of the fighting is. [ And most of the casualties, too. ]
millionyearsentence: (Default)

[personal profile] millionyearsentence 2015-03-28 04:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Well... not really. [ The harsh conditions of the future led to the development of the Panopticons' harsh rules. And it's all they will ever know, unless she did something to change it all. ]

See, there are two classes of people. The Citizens, people with brains, and the Sinners, who are the brawn. Sinners fight to protect Citizens, and Citizens work to keep our Panopticon running.

[ Citizens are valuable resources, after all. She imagines their life can't be easy either. ]

I'm one of the latter. Usually we can wreck a good part of their raider machines, but not all of them. [ And it's a sort of counter-current thing, given that they did make use of whatever ruined parts they could salvage. ]

They've been coming less often, though. [ Maybe that's a good thing... but it also meant that the Dionae would be razing some other poor Panopticon more often. It's just how things are. ]
millionyearsentence: (give me like 3 seconds)

[personal profile] millionyearsentence 2015-04-04 01:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's a thought she certainly appreciates, but she isn't sure if it'll do much. ] They're like... giant machines, really. Non-organic and powered by Will'O. We've been fighting against them for ages, so all their weak points are well-documented. The only determining factors here are the size of their forces, the size of ours, and how skilled each soldier is.

[ Ah yes, soup. ]

Well... if you'd insist, then I have some bread to contribute.

[ It's wrapped up in a leaf by the bedside table. Wyrden had been lucky enough to get a whole room to herself... but only by virtue of no one being comfortable enough to sleep under Ramiel's constant scruitinity. ]

Thanks.
millionyearsentence: (hmm yeah that's true)

[personal profile] millionyearsentence 2015-04-04 04:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ That is... actually a very good question. ]

I can't remember. [ Though it isn't quite due to the reason she had in mind. ] Sorry. I lost my memory about a year ago. [ And she says it as if it isn't a big deal at all.

But anyway. She goes over to retrieve the bread, setting it on the shelf where the soup was. ]


D'you eat bread in small or large pieces?
millionyearsentence: (Default)

[personal profile] millionyearsentence 2015-04-09 01:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Small pieces, sure, she can do that. She goes off to wash her hands in one of the windowsill basins before coming back and working at it with a small knife. ]

All gone. [ Still the same flat tone as ever. ] Even if they'd develop some sort of medication for that, it'd be for the Citizens. I'm not eligible yet.

[ Only about five hundred thousand years left to go. ]

... I'm not sure if it would even be good to remember it, anyway. I don't know what it is anymore.

[ It'd better not be something that gets in the way of her work. ]