| open | A cold wind was blowing from the north

[readytocomply]

Who: Bucky and anyone
Where: Ski resort and mansion
When: The event and the day after
Rating: Event death
Summary: All things snowy and cold
The Story:

one: there's no such thing as too much snow

[Bucky doesn't like the cold. It's something he adjusts to, when he has to, but he's not a fan. So he stays inside for the first part of the event, rummaging through the kitchen to make his own version of hot cocoa. Cinnamon to spice it up. He'll make a couple mugs and take them with him as he curls up with Sugar by the fire. After that, he'll find his way outside, looking around to see what everyone is doing with their surprise vacation.

He can be pulled into a snowball fight or help someone who wants to ski or snowboard (though he won't actually do that himself) or can be persuaded to head inside for cards or something similar.]

two: there's too much snow

[It was the day after the event that Bucky woke up again or came back to life. He was huddled up against the wall, legs drawn up under his knees, staring at nothing. He'd died yesterday. There was a girl in the snow, lost, and he'd been out making sure nobody was hurt or caught in the storm. Steve was rubbing off on him. It hadn't been smart to go out, but he was strong and figured that if he could help people, he should.

She'd been hurt and as unpredictable as snow could be, they'd toppled over a steep incline and he'd twisted to take the brunt of it. He could tell he was injured, more than the serum could keep up with, something even it couldn't heal. Bucky had managed to get her closer to the inn before everything had gone black.

But that was yesterday and today he was trying to figure out why he wasn't relieved that he was magically alive. He didn't want to be dead, but he didn't feel good about the whole thing. Bucky lifts his head when he hears someone approaching. He's visibly upset but doesn't say anything at first.]

three: wildcard

[Bucky is available for any of the event shenanigans. If either of the options above (one is during event and one is post) don’t fit with your character, feel free to pick something. I’m super flexible and would love to get Bucky out and about. I can be messaged through my journal or through barebone.]

Comments

[mucked]

I imagine he's got a habit of doing so. [ -- knocking sense. especially if his dearest friend has gone through the sort of wringer he's just barely begun to describe. honestly, it unnerves her. not much ever has. but the idea that hydra had perpetrated crimes beyond the ones already accounted for -- well, it's a failing she takes personally. and through no fault of bucky's. ]

-- How long of a while?

[ she craves details. details will settle her stomach, she hopes, and help her understand. ]

[readytocomply]

Years.

[Bucky looks down, tension rolling through him. Talking about his mind, the gaps and holes, how little he remembers of his life makes him uneasy.]

Not so sure I'll get it all back. [He shrugs, offering her the ghost of a smile.] It's not so bad, not here. There's nobody lookin' for me and besides a few loud mouths that think they know more than they do, no one bothers me.

[It's peaceful.]

[mucked]

[ she sets aside the question of here. here, she suspects, is a red herring. but that's only because she's so fresh, so newly arrived, that she feels she can barely trust the ground beneath her feet. the walls back at the mansion shift; it offends every sensibility she's got. ]

You mean -- there are bits still missing. [ a stiff inhale. that sounds...well, it sounds like a lot of things. something in her jaw twitches. she sees that nearly-smile and wishes she could match but but she remains so uneasy.

a little lost, frankly. ]

[readytocomply]

Yeah. [He'd rather give her better, easier to swallow news about the future ( even just his own ) but he's never taken much stock in being dishonest or sugar coating the situation. That would just come back to bite him in the ass.] Lets talk about something else.

Your choice.

[Bucky leaves it hanging. They can always stop talking altogether or keep going. He'd try to help if he could.]

[mucked]

[ your choice, he says. and her mouth purses for a moment as she considers the chasm of opportunity that offers. what she'd like to do is continue to chase this rabbit down its hole -- but he makes his position clear, he'd rather discuss something else.

so be it. ]

We could always discuss the weather. [ it's a wry, almost joking comment. they could talk about here, couldn't they, without tripping over too many minefields? or so she believes. best to tread carefully. ]

[readytocomply]

Not much to talk about there unless you've got theories on all this snow.

[That might lead to a discussion on events, their unpredictability, and the sometimes negative outcomes they have. Again, not necessarily a pleasant conversation, but Bucky would rather talk about that, than all his past and her future. At least right now.]

Still, your choice.

[mucked]

Theories? [ a grimace. she wishes she had theories. but theories require background, and she's got woeful little here. ] No, I suppose not. Not on the snow, at any rate.

But do things like this happen often? [ a gesture referring to the entire room suggests that she's talking about the inn. ] Being whisked away to whole new locations? I thought we couldn't leave the mansion grounds.