tinker tailor winter soldier. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
redactions) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thehometree2015-03-21 12:15 pm
redactions) wrote in 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?'
| 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?'
no subject
[ 1945 is a long way from her time, after all. ]
Bread would be great, thanks. When's the last time you had anything that wasn't rations?
no subject
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?
no subject
[ He only masks his alarm because she seems nonchalant about it. Bucky's never been able to look at a wound and not want to stitch it shut, but it'd feel.. imposing when the other person doesn't even think of it that way. So instead he stands and pulls out a chair for her. ]
There's a way to get your memories back, or they're all gone?
no subject
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. ]