| 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

[circlejerked]

I can if you drag me to the top of some mountain and I get eaten by someone's memory of a giant monkey that walks on its knuckles. Abominable snowmen, I think you call them, yes?

<sub>[Something like that. And the abominable snow unicorns will also be your fault, Bucky Barnes, you're the one who encouraged him to go on this excursion.

So far though the beautiful view remains unmarred by great apes or unicorns; he smiles out at it, answering with a note of amusement that's spurred on by his growing good mood. He's always liked being outside, and the air is bracing but in an enlivening sort of way.]</sub>

Is that you encouraging me to try harder, or reassuring me I won't hurt that pretty face? _{[He caught that, mister. On both counts--the glow of cat ownership, and Bucky's slight course correction.]} They don't have to be handsome to make good companions, eh?

_{[Providing comfort on those sleepless nights where every shadow is a threat and every threat preys on the mind.]}

[readytocomply]

Yeah, but those aren't real.

[Well, he's never seen one, but if he's honest with himself, experience has taught him that anything is possible. Wonderland was stranger than back home, but his world wasn't without it's oddities.] I don't think.

Both. [He smiles at Anders, shrugging a shoulder.] It's been a while since anyone's told me I'm pretty, thanks.

[Bucky's enamored with Sugar. He'd never thought himself much of a pet person, but clearly, he is.]

No, they don't. She sits on my chest and does this.. thing with her paws. Massaging. It's real sweet. [They could talk about Sugar all day, but he doesn't want to lasso the conversation for himself.] How many pets do you have?

[circlejerked]

_{[You don't know that, Bucky. You don't know that. This could be the living memory of someone from the 1964 Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer special. Wouldn't they look if a stop-motion yeti appeared over the top of the rise.]}

You're very welcome.

_{[Anders has his doubts it falls within safety regulations, but he leans on the bar, looking deceptively comfortable for a man that's rarely off the ground.]}

Well, I needn't worry about you being taken care of in my absence, it sounds as though she has you well in hand. Paw. I still just have the two--still cute beyond reason, still feline terrors.