text.
3 questions.
1. What is the mortality rate?
2. Who enforces discipline?
[ You can learn a lot about the culture of a ship through its rules. He rules out HYDRA -- they're usually more cruel and efficient than this. Here, he and the others are animals in a trap, at the mercy of unknown entities powerful enough to draw and keep all of them in here. He doesn't give voice to these thoughts.
Eyes and ears in the walls, in these devices -- he doesn't trust them, his paranoia is his greatest asset. ]
3. Where and when were you from, at the moment you were taken?
1. What is the mortality rate?
2. Who enforces discipline?
[ You can learn a lot about the culture of a ship through its rules. He rules out HYDRA -- they're usually more cruel and efficient than this. Here, he and the others are animals in a trap, at the mercy of unknown entities powerful enough to draw and keep all of them in here. He doesn't give voice to these thoughts.
Eyes and ears in the walls, in these devices -- he doesn't trust them, his paranoia is his greatest asset. ]
3. Where and when were you from, at the moment you were taken?
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He didn't tell me about you.
[ He hesitates. ] Why weren't you in the 107th?
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[ Bucky raises his eyebrow. ]
Why were you? Look, it's classified. Let's just say I was in the Army solely to be Cap's partner.
video; private
[ He's still struggling to wrap his mind around this; he has so many questions. This one looks so young and fresh-faced, what were they thinking? ]
You're... also James Barnes? How old are you? What is classified?
video; private
[ America wasn't. They all kinda tug at their collars when he dies, 'cause man is that bad for PR. ]
Yeah, that's right. I'm twenty, and, well, everything really. Who I work for, what I do... Didn't you have a secret identity in the war? You know, like Cap?
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also yes young men dying is always bad for pr :c ]
If I did, it wasn't written. [ And he doesn't remember. ] James Barnes' face and life history is plastered on exhibition panels at a museum for everyone to see.
[ A life summarised in under 200 words. The only consolation is that Bucky knows he doesn't look much like him anymore. And no one's ever going to believe that he's that larger than life man that's plastered everywhere in that museum. ]
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Everything or just the nice stuff about us?
[ Because if the public knew the things he's done for their freedom ohhh dear. Something tells him some real public backlash would hit the fan. He was only sixteen when he was trained illegally to fight. ]
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Also Bucky's distracted by that question, like the other Bucky (?) is taking it in stride without a sweat. He, in the meantime, is still... sort of floundering. ]
Heavily sanitized. Children go to those exhibits.
[ Which is frustrating -- it doesn't tell him very much. ] When did you first meet Steve?
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[ He's not sure if that's comforting or disturbing. But he supposes it's not too implausible since this Steve doesn't look exactly like his own. ]
Oh okay, phew! [ He even wipes his forehead. ] That woulda been bad. Uhmm I was sixteen, so... nineteen forty-one. You?
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He frowns at the answer, brows knitting at the later question. ] We were children.
[ At least, he thinks they were. There were vague impressions, fleeting and gone too quickly; he swallows down the near-constant frustration and anger and takes a breath. He's aware of not spilling too much, but then again, there isn't much to spill. ] ...Young. He picked a fight with some bullies.
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[ Augh, Bucky is so jealous! ]
Aren't you younger than him, though?
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Why would I be younger than him?
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[ Bucky starts grabbing his head like it's threatening to split in half. This really is too much to take in at once. None of this makes sense, at all. How can this stranger be him when they have barely anything in common except for a name and a friendship with Steve Rogers? ]
Okay, I'm... I think I'm tapped out right now. Yeah, I'm done. So, it was lovely to meet you. I'm sure we'll be.... forced to finish this conversation at a later time.