[log] cut off one head [closed]

[advanced]

Characters: Bucky Barnes and Alexander Pierce
Location: Building 149
Date: Day 198, evening
Summary: Bucky finally runs into Pierce, they have words.
Warnings: Graphic violence, will add others if necessary.

[He doesn't want to move too far from the way out of downtown to the ice tunnels, it's his best bet for running into Pierce if the man is even still in this area. But he almost wishes he'd stayed back at the post office when he finds a table carved with a very specific Russian word.

Fury has him kicking the table into the wall until it breaks into chunks that he can pick up with one hand, only so that he can slam them into each other more and more until there's nothing but splinters remaining. He doesn't care about the mess he's making, only stopping when there's literally no trace of that word left. Covered in dust, he opens the door intending to brush off the worst of it before lockdown, when he sees a very familiar figure in the snow.

It's almost like a mirage at first, that he should show up at this moment.

But Bucky only wastes a single second before he's sprinting out into the snow with the aim of catching Pierce and dragging him back into the house before the doors lock. By his hair, if he has to.]

Comments

[peacemongering]

[He had spoken with her on the network, and he wondered how many doctors were into the elicit prescription of medications. Of course, that verified his suspicions that Holmes could be an addict. Anyone with a mind that ran that hot and fast often required something to slow it down, to focus, to take it from fifth gear to fourth if only for a time. It also helped to complete with the boredom he assumed.]

Do you use it yourself for the pain?

[He was also washing his body down, but he was certainly having less trouble about it. He didn't have months of built up grossness on him, so he made relatively quick work of himself. His water was dirty but not filthy. Already, he assumed the smell was much better for them both.]

[advanced]

No.

[He paused before answering further, half because he had soap on his face that needed washing off and half because he wasn't sure if a more detailed answer was required. The Soldier is a taciturn creature, after all.]

None of it is mine.

[All the medicine he carries has different names. Alfie Solomons, Jay, Sherlock Holmes. Nothing for the Soldier.]

[peacemongering]

[That much was obvious. The Soldier wasn't an addict and clearly hadn't been in pain enough in losing the layers of frostbitten gangrenous flesh to require any either. He was also busy washing off soap but from his chest and arms, which required another scrubbing for him to consider them clean.]

So you intend to give the medications to the appropriate recipients then?

[He figured that most controlled substances can be used for bartering of favours or other items. It could be a currency worthwhile investing in. He had heard supplies were running low though.]

[advanced]

Is that what you want me to do?

[He doesn't intend to do anything and there's the tiniest blink of confusion as he glances over at his handler. He doesn't have wants, intentions, or opinions outside of what he's been ordered to have.

Why would he?]

[peacemongering]

I have no opinion on the items that you carry. You've obviously taken them with a reason in mind for whatever mission you have been carrying out.

[At least that was still intact. It was good to check now and again, not that he planned on using the words again. They were, if anything, a last resort always. Right now, it was best that the concentrate on getting clean so that they could put clothes on to limit the chill.

It would drive Barnes mad to have to spoon for body warmth, assuming all the memories would be intact of course. He assumed so given previous malfunctions.]

[advanced]

[Once the initial period of coming back to himself was complete, the memories would surely surface and get under his skin in a significant way. Not that the Soldier is at all worried about this, just moving on to washing his body methodically and without shame at his nudity.]

I don't remember.

[Is that a failure? Should he?]

I don't really remember anything before you found me.

[peacemongering]

It will come to you. Right now, I am more concerned with you getting clean. A better routine will set you up for success.

[A good sleep schedule, as regular meals when possible and personal hygiene were a start. More than that, it was such a visible difference that he suspected those closest to the Soldier would experience certain emotions. Of course none of them would be pleased with him, and he would offer no justification. It simply was.]

You were malfunctioning before I found you. We are simply putting some things back into rights again.

[advanced]

[The word malfunctioning causes his eyes to narrow and just a flash of anger spasm across his face. But it's come and gone like a lightning flash in a storm. He's a weapon, a tool, the term malfunction is perfectly appropriate when it comes to him. Still, he's silent until he's finished washing carefully around the deep scarring on his shoulder.]

Malfunctioning how?

[His voice has just a hint of aggression hidden under the calm level question.]

[peacemongering]

[Alexander found the reaction to just add to his suspicion that there was very little that the Soldier could truly hang on to. Barnes was well and truly infectious to undermining the creature that HYDRA had created. It was good to know which words were of limited use.

A different kind of trigger word. Ones that provoked reactions that might suit him later.]

Attacking without order. Paranoia. A clear inability to keep yourself in as optimal of condition as possible in this place. Quick to anger. Quick to violence. And fear.

[He watched the Soldier as he spoke even as he was washing down his legs, looking for microexpressions, anything to pick up on how his words hit home.]

[advanced]

[A whole slew of expressions, tiny enough to go unnoticed by anyone not looking for them, flicker across his face one after the other. Discomfort, guilt, concern, distrust, and finally sorrow.

He nods.]

I was making my own choices?

[It's only half a question, and there's a tiny bit of both hope and scandalised confusion underneath the words. That's what he's got from what he's been told. His own choices, his own person.]

[peacemongering]

[He read the expressions as if they were from a book detailing each on. They were so fleeting that he knew that most people wouldn't have caught them all, but he knew the Soldier well. More, he knew people well. He knew what he was looking for when speaking with them.]

No. You were attempting and self-destructing. You were destroying yourself, and that makes me very upset. You are too fine a man for such behaviours. All I want is to set you back on a productive path.

[There wasn't a lie in that, but he had other reasons for doing what he was as well. Sabotage wasn't necessarily an unpleasant experience after all.]

[advanced]

I'm sorry.

[He doesn't often apologise, but the Soldier would always tell his handlers what he thought they needed to hear. And sometimes, not often, an apology could stave off some pain for his mistakes.]

I'll be on whatever path you want me to be. You speak, I obey.

[peacemongering]

[Alexander offered a slight smile, the best he could manage without breaking the scab on his face. He continued to wash down his legs, rubbing them vigorously for both cleanliness and to move blood along them for warmth. He knew the tactic, knew it was almost childish in nature.

And there was no responsibility taken with an apology, and he expected none. The Soldier was his for only a short amount of time and then he would return Barnes and that would be that. He would be left in peace to do what he had come here to do.]

You are performing my wishes for you right now. Eating, sleeping, being healthy. There is no reason for self-destructive behaviour.

[advanced]

[It is so strange that the only orders he would be given are for his own wellbeing, it seems almost unnatural. He is a weapon, he had a purpose in that, what purpose does he have in simply eating, sleeping, and keeping himself clean.

He nods, however, not about to contradict his handler. He will ask further clarification, though.]

No other orders?

[peacemongering]

[Alexander was finishing up his washing and seeking to get back into the warmth of clothing now that his grimy blood-stained ones were clean and drying out again. He had a few items to wear thankfully, and he planned on settling down in one of the more defensible and secure areas of the aquarium as a just in case.

He looked at that Soldier still cleaning.]

Not at present. We are sticking to the routine for now. Unless you are requesting new orders?

[advanced]

[He's moved down his torso now and there's an obvious difference between the skin that's been cleaned and what's still awaiting his attention, what looks like a tan line of filth.]

Am I allowed?

[He doesn't remember ever requesting orders before, and he's concerned this might be a trap. But he does want something more, this-- whatever this is, it itches under his skin in a way he doesn't understand.]

[peacemongering]

[There was still a lot of work to be done with the Soldier being clean, but he would not hurry the process. They had all night to see that the Soldier was back in as good of condition as this place would allow, but more than that, he wanted to reveal the Barnes under the filth.

In time, he thought.]

Yes, you've requested a change to orders or requested new ones. They aren't always accepted. Frankly, more often than not, it is denied, but the option is still available.

[Or at least it was now. And the Soldier had to operate on missions with autonomy. There had to be clear orders but otherwise, the method in which they were carried out was the Soldier's discretion. It allowed for shifts when aspects changed.

Clean and drying off himself, he leafed through his pack for one of his handful of shivs, the sharpest, cleanest edge. He was in need of a shave.]

[advanced]

[He knows he has autonomy to carry out orders, that's a different beast from free will altogether or requesting his own orders. Still, this doesn't seem like a trap, and his handler has been kind to him so far. It emboldens him to trust, as much as the Soldier can trust, and nod.]

I want something more.

[Those weren't orders that had him doing anything of significance, he had no purpose there. He was supposed to be a tool, a weapon, and taking care of himself felt like a sideline rather than a complete mission.

There's something in his eyes that speaks of disquiet, of Bucky underneath almost desperate for Pierce to do something that wasn't beneficial to him.]

[peacemongering]

[Under normal circumstances, 'I want' were not generally words that were allowed to the Soldier unless in a need for survival. Food, water, a change of clothing, a weapon were the instances when a handler would overlook the words. In many cases, it wasn't a case of 'I need', and there was no particular need to nitpick such basic necessities.]

And what would more entail for you?

[He was intent on his own business, though he kept part of his intention on the Soldier next to him. He only had soap to work with and the wounds on his face made shaving both tedious and difficult.]

[advanced]

[He doesn't stop cleaning himself even as the conversation continues, down to his genitals and upper legs now, almost completely washed free of the grime and filth that has accumulated over the last few months.]

I don't know.

[He hesitates, hand paused in the action of emptying the sink to refill it again.]

I usually have a target.

[Whether that's a person, an object, or even information.]

[peacemongering]

[He shaved very carefully and very slowly. The blade wasn't as fine as razor but it had an edge. The rasp of blade on skin was audible, but he was determined to remove the whiskers all the same.

Of course, having a target here was currently impossible. The sheer volume of interaction that had to happened compromised a situation where the Soldier had once been in their world. With a 'will', the Soldier had more than a few people that checked in and any targeting would be traced back to him. For now, he was intent on keeping his nose clean.]

I suppose you technically do have a target. The Admin or Eve. Everyone is searching for the center of the spiral, so to speak.

[advanced]

[The Admin. Good, okay, that does give him a specific target. His eyes shutter with something darker and more focused, the sort of look that the Soldier usually got before hunting a target down.]

Neutralised, captured, or killed?

[peacemongering]

[Ah, was he taking that as an actual order? Interesting. The Soldier was so desperate for a target that even the suggestion of one was taking up as a new reality. So tarnished and unused was James Barnes that falling back on what had been a reality for seventy years now stood out more firmly.

For his part, he continued to carefully shave his cheeks.]

We would have to have more information of which capacity Even exists. As Zola proved, you can't torture a problem, only box it into a certain area. Take away things. So until we know more, that is still in question. It means we'll have to operate under the assumption that all of those things and none of this things may come to be.

[advanced]

[It's perhaps not as concrete a mission as he wanted, but it's something. He will throw his all into information gathering and searching, alongside the self-care measures that have been placed on him and protecting his handler's life.

Finally, with one last swipe of the napkin, he's clean.

Next up, he takes his scalpel and prepares to shave with it, careful and precise, though he speaks between strokes.]

I will report all findings to you for analysis.

[peacemongering]

[At this point, Pierce knew better than to give full orders that weren't aligned with his want to make the Soldier clean, healthy and able. It would not do well for when this entire event ended, so he was careful when it came to what he was going to be ordering.

He washed his own blade in the sink of water and rinsed his face and then continued with his own shaving.]

Is the Admin worth sending messages to?