entrancelogs | standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace [OPEN]

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standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace [OPEN]

Who: Steve Rogers and YOU
Where: All over Wonderland
When: 08/28 - 09/02
Rating: R for lots of violence
Summary: Steve is not Steve anymore. Now he's only the Soldier. But he has a mission to complete and he doesn't fail.
The Story:
I. there's a knock at your door [08/28]

After a rude awakening, the Soldier is back in his element. A minor setback, to lose the target, but there are plenty of others out there who are in need of conversion and his mission parameters are clear. This is the kind of assignment he prefers. There are no mysteries to it, everything is set out plainly before him. Anyone who is not HYDRA must be made HYDRA by any means necessary. That isn't difficult.

Not when there is equipment set up, scattered around the mansion for their ease. The first thing the Soldier does is map out each floor, making careful mental notes of where each station is set up so that he can always corner a potential target in the most convenient place.

After that's done, he observes. He is nothing more than an embodiment of the task he's been given, and so it's not difficult for him to remain on the outskirts of any situation as he catalogues the myriad of people who are still offering resistance to HYDRA's ideals. There are still a great many of them, which means that there's plenty of work to do.

That's for the best. He doesn't do well when he's idle.

[ OOC: This option is for interaction before he's actively trying to recruit or convert, if you want your character to be baffled by Steve not remembering them! ]

II. you don't even recognize the stranger [08/29 - 08/31]

The Soldier is on the hunt.

He is made to fight. War is in his bones, combat is in his blood, and his desire -- no, he isn't meant to desire. What he wants doesn't matter, and should not exist. All that matters is the end goal.

So if a particular target requires a subtler approach, then he can do that. He can greet them with a few well-placed words, but deceit is not a part of his skillset. He would rather be direct: convert or die. Not that murder is truly a part of his mission right now. These people won't do HYDRA any good if they're dead. Better to drag them over to their side by force, if that's what's required.

Which he's entirely willing to do. The shield he carries is not his, it can't be, but it's been provided to him for this mission, along with the uniform. (He will not admit that there's something about them that he's fond of. He cannot be fond of anything.) He bears the shield and wears the outfit as he slinks through the mansion and identifies targets, then approaches them to insist on compliance.

[ OOC: This option will involve him aggressively trying to convert people to HYDRA. Only threads that were pre-discussed as ending in brainwashing will do so. If we haven't talked about Steve brainwashing your character but you would like that to happen, just let me know in your comment. ]

III. there's a hole in your head [09/01]

He rushes down the hallway, somewhere between a jog and a run, doing whatever he can to get away from the buzzing in his head. Something is unraveling. Flashes of images cycle through his mind: a group of laughing men sitting around a wooden table; a woman, smiling, with red red lipstick (she's here, isn't she?); the man he left in the room, but younger, smiling down at him --

The Soldier slumps against the wall, hardly aware of where he is anymore, or who might see. His knees fit the floor and then he pitches forward and catches himself with both hands, breaths coming ragged. Like he can't quite get the air into his lungs. He's felt this before...

No. Whoever those images belong to, he is not him. Whatever ghost of a memory is tugging at him is not meant for him to know or understand.

His lips are still warm, but his eyes are panicked, flicking from side to side as he struggles for breath even though he has a pair of perfectly good lungs.

Steve -- no, no, the Soldier begins to push himself to his feet.

[ OOC: This is for the last day of the event when Steve's programming is beginning to break down! ]

IV. it's you from before [09/02 and onward]

Steve Rogers is someone who submerges himself in guilt as a general way of life, to say nothing of the past five days. Now that guilt isn't simply an extra weight that he carries around on his broad shoulders. No, it's morphed into something much more vicious, a parasite that's eating away at him, making it impossible to think straight or focus on much beyond how incredibly awful he feels.

Now he knows what Bucky has to go through on a daily basis and it gives him even more respect for him. That Bucky has learned how to live with this kind of crippling guilt is a testament to how incredibly strong he is.

Steve has been spending the past nine months telling Bucky that what he did while brainwashed hadn't been his fault, yet now that it's time to apply that logic to himself it feels impossible, unattainable.

Still, languishing in the guilt won't do anyone any favors, and so all Steve can do is pick himself back up again and seek out those he hurt to apologize. He dragged some of them down with him, turned them into mindless HYDRA agents too, and that may be the thing he's the most guilty for having done.

[ OOC: This is for post-event fallout and aftermath when Steve is himself again! ]

[ OOC (2): Both prose and action brackets are fine by me, I'll match you! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He's back in his armour now. Too dangerous to be without it when those people are walking the halls, dragging people away to be brainwashed. At least that was what Barnes had said they did and Wash was inclined to agree. He'd seen a couple of people from their little group vanish and come back working for the other side.

It's not a betrayal. He has to remember that. They don't get a choice. It just sits uneasily in his gut. CT had got a tomahawk to her chest for her trouble when she'd betrayed them. It'll never be right.

He's patrolling one of the hallways, running interference for anyone who needs to get out. He recognises the man who steps into the hallway. Saw him training a few days ago. Walks like he's military. Confident. And Wash is immediately on edge.

It isn't often that anyone in this place carries themselves like they're readying for battle. Wonderland spoils them, and so they've become relaxed, complacent. It's something that makes the Soldier's job simpler, as he doesn't have to work hard to corner someone.

But he doesn't like for things to be simple. He would rather someone offer him a challenge, and this figure in full armor could do just that.

The Soldier hopes he isn't disappointed, at least. He so often is.

He pauses when they're about ten feet away from each other and studies the armor, eyes flicking back and forth before he goes still. Unnaturally so. "Are you willing to comply?" It's the only question he really needs to ask.

Wash stops dead, knows that he's being scrutinised. There's a thrill of anticipation to it, the same kind Wash gets before they get dropped for a mission.It's the pump of adrenaline and he knows that he's not getting out of this without a fight. Which is... like every mission they do honestly.

He straightens up, tilts his head towards the guy. Maybe he should be arguing but it hadn't worked so far.

"Sorry. Already enlisted to one secret project."

Both of them are primed for battle, ready for a fight, and it's a feeling that the Soldier could get addicted to. Maybe that's why he is the way he is. Maybe that's why he's the asset. It's because there's a part of him that was made for this. No, all of him was made for it.

His free hand clenches into a fist, ready to collide with that armor at the soonest moment, but he doesn't make a move just yet.

He could ask what secret project, but that would defeat the purpose of it being a secret. And it doesn't matter. Interrogation can come later, when the target is hooked up to the machine.

"Nothing about HYDRA is secret anymore," the Soldier says. "There's only one option here." And he's almost wishing that this target will resist.

He shouldn't get a thrill out of this. He shouldn't be almost eager for it. He's seen too many people die, too many awful things, to think that war is glorious. And yet... well, no-one gets into a special ops program like Freelancer and all of the shit it entails if there isn't part of them that loves it.

He watches the other guy, ready to move if, when he has to. If it wasn't such a tense situation, he'd be bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah, I kind of realise that. The banners and graffiti aren't really subtle."

The lack of subtlety is enough to make the Soldier anxious, given that he's more accustomed to being nothing more than a ghost. Something that they take out for the missions that no one else could complete until he's shelved again, forgotten by the world at large.

Now he's allowed to function out in the light where anyone can see him. He's not frightened by it, but it's different enough to scratch at some part of his brain in an uncomfortable way.

Which doesn't matter. He'll still carry out the mission.

"You can either come with me willingly or I can take you by force." He tilts his chin up slightly and stares the armored man down. "What will it be?"

Subtle he could appreciate. Black-ops didn't tend to work publicly. Admittedly the Freelancers had a...flexible definition of secretive, considering the small matter of the skyscraper when they'd been retrieving that sarcophagus. That had been sort of the opposite of covert.

The waiting is getting to him. He stares right back, even if his face is obscured by the visor. "I think you already know."

That's all that the Soldier needs to hear, and the way he tilts his chin up and squares himself broadcasts that the fight is about to start in earnest.

There's no need for him to hide what he's going to do. Brute force tends to win out over stealth with his particular skill set, and the armored man is well aware of where this had been headed.

So the Soldier charges directly at him with all the force of a bull. Once he gets close enough, he leaps up into the air to kick off of the wall and then falls down upon the target with his shield held in front of him as a buffer.

It's rare that they get warning that a fight will start. They're usually already being shot at by the time that it gets to this. Wash squares himself, sets himself firm. And then there's movement.

The charge reminds him of Maine, all bulk and weight and muscle. He's gonna hit like a fucking wall, Wash can already tell. The best way to survive that kind of hit is to not be there when it falls but-

Fuck, he's agile for a big guy. The leap takes him by surprise, and he only just manages to throw himself out of the way in time, rolls across the ground to avoid that hit, that shield, and pulls himself back up, darting in for a punch while he's recovering from the landing.

The fact that the target is able to anticipate the speed of his attack and dodge out of the way is impressive, not that the Soldier is in a position to appreciate it. It registers, but only in that he has to calculate his next move to be faster next time.

He sees the punch coming and shifts out of the way enough that it only grazes his shoulder. As the armored man tries to stand, the Soldier aims a kick for his chest, planning to see just how sturdy that armor really is.

At the same time, the Soldier swings his shield around in a wide arc, hoping to try and knock the helmet off of the man to expose more of his weak points.

What can he say? When you regularly spar against the people he does, you get good at picking up on things like that. You get good very quickly or you end up washing out or dead. He hasn't died yet.

The kick connects, throws Wash backwards. Fuck, it's like getting body slammed by Maine, sends him sprawling backwards, winded for a moment. The shield grazes by his head, leaves it ringing but the helmet stays firmly attached.

He pushes back immediately, even before the ringing in his head stops, feinting a punch that ends with him kicking for the soldier's knees instead, wanting to get him off balance.

Maybe the Soldier's kick hadn't dented the armor, but it had been able to throw the target back, and that's a good sign. If it had been like kicking a brick wall, that would have been more of a problem. The helmet doesn't come off so easily, which means he'll probably need to pry it off.

The target's kick hits true, forcing the Soldier to stumble back until he catches himself against the wall with his free hand. Fighting in a hallway like this is inconvenient, to say the least, but it's nothing he hasn't done before.

He throws the shield to soar over the target's shoulder, aiming for it to bounce off of the wall behind him and then strike him in the back of the neck. At the same time he pushes off of the wall he'd been braced against and throws himself at the armored man, intending to tackle him to the floor.

Edited 2015-09-23 15:56 (UTC)

The walls get in the way, force them into close quarters. Could be a pain in the ass. Might also be a benefit. Limits what the other guy can do just as much as it limits Wash. He's so fast. And strong.

He follows up the loss of balance with another punch to his gut. If he can get him down, even just briefly, it'd be easier to knock him out.

The hell is this guy, throwing that shield like a goddam frisbee? He throws himself to the side to avoid the rebound of it, but that just leaves him open for the tackle. It bears him down to the ground, leaves him breathless for a moment before he's struggling against the soldier, drawing his legs back for a kick.

A punch to the gut is debilitating, but it would be more so for someone who didn't have the serum to help soften every blow. Which is why the Soldier still manages to pull off that tackle even as he's struggling to capture his breath. He hears the shield clatter to the ground a few feet away -- he'll need to get his hands on that again as soon as he can.

But he isn't going to give up his chance to get the helmet off now that they're in such close quarters. The man writhes beneath him, but the Soldier barely pays that any attention as his gloved hands grab for the bottom rim of the helmet to try and yank it off. If he can manage that, then he'd be able to choke the target out. It would be much easier to drag someone unconscious to one of the conversion rooms than to carry them kicking and screaming.

The lack of familiarity with the armour is Wash's best asset right now. The armour is designed to survive combat and exposure to a vacuum; it doesn't make it easy to remove, especially not if someone is unfamiliar with the way the catches work. It gives him time.

He raises his arm, jabs an elbow up towards the man's face while he works to try and get some more leverage, enough to get out from beneath him.

It definitely did give the man an advantage that the Soldier couldn't figure out how to get his armor off. This wasn't a model that he was familiar with, probably because they didn't share the same home world.

Frustration grew in him as he failed to remove the helmet, and the elbow that he took to the face didn't help matters. Pain exploded through his sinuses as the hit got him right in the nose, and yet he tightened his knees around the man's legs to try and hold him in place while he straddled him.

"Everything will be easier if you comply," he insisted. Why did no one seem to understand that?

Fuck, the hell is this guy? A goddam Spartan? He's still pinned despite smashing him in the face so... what the hell, try it again. Something has to make him move. Wash just needs enough leverage to shove him away.

"Who the fuck joins the army because they're looking for an easy way to do things?" is the snarled response.

While the target made for a second hit, the Soldier was prepared for it this time, which meant that he was able to shift out of the way just in time to avoid the punch.

That question was, in all fairness, a good one. The Soldier's life was not an easy one, if it could even be called a life in the first place. He wasn't here to serve any purpose but HYDRA's.

With no good response, the Soldier said nothing, but instead seized the man by the shoulders to try and flip him over onto his stomach. That would give him a better look at how his helmet fitted.

Yeah, that's what he thought. The lack of response says plenty. Wash has never had an easy life, and he isn't about to start taking things easy now. He is not going to just let this happen.

When the soldier grabs his shoulders, he takes the chance, lets himself be turned, but uses the moment of leverage to try to push himself up, try to buck the asshole off him.

The target behaves like an angry, armored horse, doing everything in his power to throw him off. The only reason that the Soldier isn't thrown back by the momentum is because he grabs for the man's shoulder and digs his fingers in with most of his strength to hold on, enough to put impressions in the armor.

He can see the proper clasps now and he quickly reaches out with his other hand to undo them. This may be a ridiculous sight, two men rolling around in the middle of the hallway like this, but the Soldier isn't concerned with that. There's really only one thought in his mind, and that's the mission's success.

He feels the guy's grip through the armour. How is that- fuck, maybe he is a Spartan. No normal human should be able to to dig into armour designed for combat. Wash doesn't stop fighting though. He throws his weight into it, even more viciously when he feels the tug at the side of his head. The helmet, he's trying to get off the helmet. There's a hiss as the clasps are unfastened, the seal broken.

Wash gasps as it's dragged off his head, the lost of a vital protection. It leaves the back of his head exposed, along with the port at the base of his skull, surrounded by fresh looking scars.

Finally, some kind of progress. It shouldn't have taken the Soldier this long. There are reasons -- he'd been faced with a situation he hadn't been previously trained for, but that isn't much of an excuse either. He'll still get proverbial points docked off if any of his superiors find out about this. Which means that the rest of this should be clean, easy, like a knife slicing into flesh.

At this close proximity it would be impossible to miss that port. It looks like a weak point, something that practically screams to be damaged, and so the Soldier slams a fist into it even as the target wriggles and writhes beneath him.

He gets in one last violent jerk against the man on top of him, and then pain engulfs him. It's like being hit by a migraine condensed into one horrible moment, every nerve lighting up in pain. He doesn't hear himself scream, too caught up in the pain beating against his skull. All he can feel for a moment is Epsilon in his head, unravelling and unspooling inside his head and dragging him down with it.

He goes limp beneath Steve, the pain overwhelming.

It appears he successfully found the target's weak spot.

Panting, the Soldier pushes himself up so that he's standing over the man instead of straddling him. He spends only a few seconds to regain his bearings before he reaches down for the man's limp body and then hauls him up onto his shoulders so that he's draped lengthwise across them.

He isn't sure how long the man will remain disoriented, but it doesn't matter. He has him now, and the chances of him getting away at this point are slim. The Soldier still remains on edge as he starts down the hall toward the nearest conversion room.

Pain sparks through his nerves, behind his eyes, burns through his veins. He's vaguely aware of being lifted, being slung over the man's shoulders, armour and all. Strong. He's too strong. Like Maine had been.

It's the jerking movement that starts to rouse him, consciousness slowly returning. He struggles as soon as he feels able to move, jerking against his hold, trying everything to kick or scratch.

standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace [OPEN]

II (feel free to drag him off to be brainwashed. Bucky is meant to be saving him)

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