snowblindrpg | [log] one direction [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] one direction [closed]

Characters: Bucky & Squalo
Location: 122 to maintenance tunnels to 273
Date: 293 morning to 293 night / 294 morning
Summary: Bucky and Squalo accidentally meet ~~,mug each other~~ and travel together for a day while Imaginary Time starts setting in, because why not.
Warnings: there goes the violence, will update as needed

[ Squalo wakes up with a jolt. ]

[ The nightmare fades, but parts of it still linger in the back of his mind. It was just a dream, right? But what was going on back there? He had no doubts his absence would be noticed by -- ]

[ How long has it been again? ]

[ He can't quite tell. Long. Too long. It feels like he can count back the weeks, months spent in cold hell, but he has no idea what day it's supposed to be, nor recount what exactly he'd been up to this whole time. Wandering aimlessly while everything he cares about is in danger, no doubt. ]

[ He sets off as soon as the lockdown ends, braving through the snow with some kind of newfound, almost manic determination. He needed to get out, he needed to make sure the stupid fucking dream wouldn't turn into reality, and that included moving. He had a few good leads for people currently working on things that could potentially aid their escape -- of course he'd gather several over all this time -- and it was long past time to join in. ]

[ It doesn't take long to reach the building that supposedly held the entrance to the tunnels, though of course it's enough time to get cold, even if he's definitely more dressed than on his first day (including a towel-cape, which means he's got a cheerful dolphin picture spread on his back). He swears loudly and slams the door behind himself, shifting from foot to foot a bit and rubbing his good hand against his arm, and then -- ]

[ Someone was already there. ]

[ Immediately, he falls quiet. A moment later, he moves carefully toward the other room, staying by the wall for cover, listening for any other signs of life -- or danger. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He can still see the blood.

He's had a lot of terrible dreams since escaping HYDRA, some of them are even ones where he ends up back in their clutches and doesn't manage to break free, that's nothing new. But this feels different, it feels real. It's burrowing into his brain like fish hooks and it won't let go, the sharp edges puncturing his sense of identity and letting the Soldier back in.

No. No, damn it, it wasn't real. He's not the Soldier. He's not... is he? It seems so much harder now to recall who he's become, the name and the identity to go with it, it's all fuzzy and unclear. It means his instincts are sharp, as an assassin's should be, and he moves as soon as the door opens. He melts back into the shadows, hand already on one of the numerous weapons he keeps hidden on his person at all times, voice a low growl.]

Identify yourself.

[ It's funny, really. He's never particularly cared about stealth in missions; his targets tended to die before alerting anybody, that and his conviction that he was just That Good meant he went by his own rules. Which usually included announcing his presence at the top of his lungs. It was more honorable, and it was more fun. ]

[ Here, however, he hesitates. Whoever he ran into already knows he's here, and speaking up will just let them pinpoint his spot even more accurately. ]

[ At the same time, is it really wise to try to sneak up on them? He can hear, perhaps even sense that the speaker is ready for him, and he still has nothing he can call a weapon, aside from a pair of scissors. Normally that would be enough, but nothing was normal in this place. ]

[ He also still remembers the beating that the tiny, vicious, hedgehog-like guy gave him a few days back. Sure, he reciprocated, but frankly, it was embarrassing, even if a lot of it was luck. ]

[ He doesn't have patience for this. ]

It's fucking Santa Claus. Why don't you come on out? [ He says, from behind cover, because what is hypocrisy. His own voice sounds even rougher than usual, as if it weren't used for weeks, though it's still too loud, and he definitely sounds amused. ] I'll give you a lollipop ~♬

[ or, you know, scissors to the knee ]

Edited 2017-11-03 15:56 (UTC)

[Threat.

It's not a voice that he recognises, which makes this harder because he can't picture who his opponent might be, he has no idea about height or reach or level of fitness. What he can tell, by that sort of mocking reply, is that it is an opponent and not an ally.

His posture becomes tighter, all of his energy focused inwards. The voice gives him a location, but he's not stupid enough to move towards it directly. Instead, he begins to move silently around the room to try and approach from behind.]

Try again.

[Not Santa Claus, and he's not in the mood for joking.]

[ Exactly the kind of humorless reply Squalo would expect anywhere that wasn't a goddamn ridiculous horror flick. ]

[ Which means, he should keep moving, before the absolutely suspicious sounding guy gets to him first. He makes sure to keep his back to a wall as he slinks toward the voice, his good hand finding the scissors handle. Just in case. ]

How 'bout it's your turn?

[He's moving. That reply comes from just a bit to the left, it means that this stranger is probably trying to do the same thing that he's doing, circling round to get the better position.

He doesn't respond again.

He's not giving out his position. He speeds up, relying on his training to keep his footsteps silent as he tries to get the drop on whoever this is.]

[ Silence. Which means one thing; his opponent is about to strike. Would he go forward or backward since the last time he spoke? It's impossible to tell, he knows nothing about this guy. So he tries to listen to any treacherous creaks in the floor, or any shadows moving past the door before anyone else does -- ]

[ He'd been leaning toward the door a bit too much when his instinct tells him someone is right behind him and he whips around suddenly, his mechanical hand clenched for a punch. ]

[Bucky is already moving.

He's not trying for a punch, he's not got permission to start a fight that isn't with a designated target (no... he doesn't need permission... he's not the Soldier), so he's trying to grab hold of Squalo by the shoulder and slam him into the wall.]

[ It somewhat works, as Squalo has little time or leverage to steady himself, but it also leaves him facing his assailant. He hisses as part of his back painfully hits the wall, adrenaline kicking into overdrive, and he shoves at the other man, while simultaneously attempting to stab him with the pointy(ish) end of scissors. ]

[ It might look like a mere reflexive flail at first, but that trajectory's suspiciously precisely aimed toward Bucky's jugular. ]

[Anything of Bucky that had been fighting to keep control is submerged now. He’s all business, the Soldier what he needs to survive this and make sure he gets back to his handler. His eyes are flat and his breathing deliberately steady.

It’s a good attack, well disguised, but he doesn’t let it get him. He twists enough for the metal to slice right through his left sleeve where it screeches against the metal of his arm in return. He slams his head forwards at the same time to try and deliver a headbutt. His aim is to stun his opponent without causing permanent damage so that he can get him tied up for questioning.]

[ Yowch, metal scraping against metal. Squalo swears loudly, because he thinks he should have been able to notice something like an artificial arm - of course, it's probably more advanced than anything he's seen before. ]

[ He leans back as much as the wall will let him to try and soften that blow a little bit, even if he does seem to be gifted with a particularly thick skull, considering he had no fractures after years of getting glasses and bottles chucked at it. At the same time, he swings his knee for a good old kick between the legs. ]

[The knee between his legs connects solidly and, perhaps in the move that makes him seem the least like a human and the most like a weapon that he could, the Soldier's only reaction is the tiniest tightening to his jaw. He doesn't let it knock him down or slow him down, that's what his training is for.

He pushes forwards, relying on the wall to help pin Squalo in place, and does his level best to grab a handful of that hair to use it as a handle to literally slam his head into the wall for as many times as it takes to knock him the hell out.]

[ oshi ]

[ what kind of a motherfucking beast did he run into ]

[ And in turn, that'll probably take more slamming than could be considered relatively normal. Squalo's had his head bashed into a variety of surfaces so much in his life that the first couple of hits just serve to make him angrier, if disoriented ~~because anime is not superior race in Snowblind~~. ]

[ He still does his best to try and slam the heel of his artificial hand into the other man's nose in an upward motion, hoping to unbalance him enough to push him back. ]

[He's definitely not fighting an amateur, this guy obviously knows what he's doing and he's got some serious strength behind him. Most people would be laid out by now, but he's still fighting back.

The solid nature of that hand is what takes him by surprise and his nose breaks in a spurt of blood and a hideous crack of bone. It makes him take a step backwards, but reflexes keep his fingers as tight in that hair as he can.]

[ It's more reflex than anything, but Squalo feels his mouth split into a grin when he hears that satisfying crunch, even if he's sort of seeing green. He tries to follow up with a headbutt but his head's still pinned in place by the hair, so instead he just throws himself at Bucky with all his weight behind it, intending to send both of them tumbling to the floor. ]

LET THE FUCK GO!!

[And there's the mistake he's looking for.

He lets Squalo knock them to the ground, and he slams his right hand directly towards Squalo's mouth to try and get inside while he's got his mouth open to shout. If he manages that, then he'll dig his fingernails into the roof of his mouth and pull.

It's not a conventional move, but it's exploiting an area of the body that hurts hard and easily.]

[ Fuck. ]

[ It doesn't quite shut him up, though the noise he's making does turn into a half-growl, half-choke instead of any coherent words, then gaining an octave to turn into screeching as he bites down on the offending fingers as hard as he can. He does also instinctively drop the scissors to try to pull the other's arm away, though. ]

[He continues to pull his fingers as Squalo bites down, aiming to grab the back of his damn teeth and yank as hard as he can. It hurts like hell, he can feel that his fingers are getting slippery with his own blood, but he's not going to give up. This is what he's trained for, it's what he does.]

[ NOT HIS TEETH, YOU METAL-ARMED HOE ]

[ Squalo stops biting, now his both hands gripping Bucky's arm trying to pull it away, his left clenching the wrist, while he tries to flip them over with his legs. That does leave him open from all other directions, though. ]

[This guy is obviously incredibly strong, but he's not as disciplined and that's what the Soldier is trying to exploit.

He goes with the flip, because his metal hand is finally loosing its grip on Squalo's hair to try and drive hard into his temple at the soft spot while he's distracted.]

[ Varia did run more on chaos and insanity, even if a certain level of discipline was required. Usually, it was enough. ]

[ Evidently it wasn't one of those times, though. Before Squalo can celebrate finally freeing his mouth, the taste of iron overwhelming, something extra hard and solid connects to his temple, his head squashed against the floor on the other side, and everything goes black. ]

[ His body tenses for a moment, then goes limp. ]

[He allows himself a single moment to breathe when his opponent finally goes still, but then he forces himself to move. He tries to clench his bloodied fingers, finding that one of them is pretty deep and might have even broken the finger, and sets it aside as unimportant for now.

He has handcuffs, so he handcuffs both Squalo's hands and feet together, before propping him against one of the walls and waiting for him to wake.]

[ It takes a bit, but the day's still young when Squalo stirs awake. His head is pounding, he can still taste blood, and he pulls against the uncomfortable restraints without even being aware of what it is. ]

[ Of course, a moment later, he does realize that he's been, in fact, cuffed. He swears and spits to the side, forcing his eyes to stay open. Shit. The room was still spinning a little and he was getting a hella case of shoulder pain. This was why he hated cops. ]

[ He looks around as best he can, searching for the fucking murder machine (except not, as he was, for some reason, still alive). ]

Voi! You'd've better not left me here like this!!

[He's come around faster than he expected, which is another testament to how hardy this particular enemy has been, but the Soldier has won this round. He steps into view, though out of reach of any flailing and bound limbs, and looks down with hard eyes and an expressionless face.]

I'm still here.

[Why would he leave before he's asked his questions?]

Who are you?

[ He may have won (mostly) fair and square, but that did not mean Squalo was going to be a graceful loser for a second. ]

It's good manners to give your own name before asking for another's, Iron Dick. The hell are you made of?

I'm the Soldier.

[He doesn't mind giving his identity, he has no orders to keep himself secret in Norfinbury.]

Now tell me who you are.

[An order this time, not a question, and not rising to the insults.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

WELL THIS IS GOING WELL

SO WELL

/o\

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject