Bucky Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
imfollowinghim) wrote2014-04-25 08:58 pm
imfollowinghim) wrote2014-04-25 08:58 pm
one ✪ spam & video
[Spam for the Infirmary]
[Anyone who was hanging out in the infirmary on Thursday night might have seen Morgana and Stiles dragging a very unconscious and partially clothed new arrival to the nearest available bed. Since then, Bucky's been sleeping deeply enough that he could very easily have slipped into a coma, and doesn't so much as stir if people are talking or clanging things around near his bed.
Returning to consciousness is slow and sluggish, and for a horrible moment, he doesn't remember where he is. Everything still aches, and his vision is blurry at first, and the bright light and being flat on his back makes a bundle of memories and panic rear up like a primeval monster out of the ocean, and he sits bolt upright in bed, panting, casting about and struggling to make sense of what he's seeing.
It's not the HYDRA facility. He got out, Steve got him out, and he lets out a long, slow breath of relief before grimacing and bringing his right hand to his ribs. His chest still hurts.
So does his arm, but at least it's still attached, and that's so much better than he could have hoped for after what happened.
For a long moment, he's not really sure where here is, though, even if he knows where he's not, if all of this has just been some crazy hallucination after he'd hit the water. Then he remembers the Admiral, waking up on deck, people talking over him, and it makes a little more sense.
Someone's found him a white t-shirt, and he's still got his boots, pants and belt on. The jacket's no where to be seen, but there's a set of keys and something that looks a little like a space age walkie talkie on the table next to his bed, and that's enough to get him swinging his legs over the side of the bed and attempt figuring out what to do, next.
He'll hang around a little longer and ask a couple questions - who he needs to thank for piecing him back together, for one - but then he'll be heading off to find out where his room is.]
[Public]
[Once he's found his room and cleaned himself up a little more - he'd spent a lot of time staring at himself in the mirror, trying to make sure everything is where it's supposed to be, that his arm isn't about to just fall off - he gets his hands on the walkie talkie and turns it on.
He knows how to do that, and how to set it up to record a video, even though it's way more high tech than anything even Howard had access to. It doesn't occur to him to think that's weird just yet.
It's a familiar face to some - but he addresses the Barge like he's never been here before and has very little idea of what to expect. He's still in the plain white t-shirt, the room behind him is incredibly plain and somewhat militaristic while still somehow looking warm and comforting, and he manages a smile that looks something like his usual cocky self, but also a little... hollow. Like he's not really sure he remembers how to do it correctly.]
This is Sergeant James Barnes, formerly with the 107th Infantry. U.S. Army. Most people call me Bucky. [Meaning: you should call him Bucky.] I've been on assignment with the SSR and the Howling Commandos for the last couple months, but I guess someone decided I'd be better off transferring here for as long as this Admiral guy thinks I'll be useful. [He says it like a joke, but he's actually really uneasy about the whole thing, if he's really being honest. He'd woken up here beaten to hell and drowning in his own blood, and he's a little more shaken up about it than he'd like to admit he is.
At least the usual Brooklyn drawl is doing a pretty good job of masking it.]
So if anyone's got some advice on what to expect for the new guy, I'd appreciate it.
[There's another smile, and it seems like he's going to leave it at that, but then his expression clouds a little and he adds, almost as an afterthought:]
... Are cabins always something you've lived in back in the real world?
[ooc: Multiples for spam are welcome, as is assuming you were there when he was brought in/sleeping off being healed.]
[Anyone who was hanging out in the infirmary on Thursday night might have seen Morgana and Stiles dragging a very unconscious and partially clothed new arrival to the nearest available bed. Since then, Bucky's been sleeping deeply enough that he could very easily have slipped into a coma, and doesn't so much as stir if people are talking or clanging things around near his bed.
Returning to consciousness is slow and sluggish, and for a horrible moment, he doesn't remember where he is. Everything still aches, and his vision is blurry at first, and the bright light and being flat on his back makes a bundle of memories and panic rear up like a primeval monster out of the ocean, and he sits bolt upright in bed, panting, casting about and struggling to make sense of what he's seeing.
It's not the HYDRA facility. He got out, Steve got him out, and he lets out a long, slow breath of relief before grimacing and bringing his right hand to his ribs. His chest still hurts.
So does his arm, but at least it's still attached, and that's so much better than he could have hoped for after what happened.
For a long moment, he's not really sure where here is, though, even if he knows where he's not, if all of this has just been some crazy hallucination after he'd hit the water. Then he remembers the Admiral, waking up on deck, people talking over him, and it makes a little more sense.
Someone's found him a white t-shirt, and he's still got his boots, pants and belt on. The jacket's no where to be seen, but there's a set of keys and something that looks a little like a space age walkie talkie on the table next to his bed, and that's enough to get him swinging his legs over the side of the bed and attempt figuring out what to do, next.
He'll hang around a little longer and ask a couple questions - who he needs to thank for piecing him back together, for one - but then he'll be heading off to find out where his room is.]
[Public]
[Once he's found his room and cleaned himself up a little more - he'd spent a lot of time staring at himself in the mirror, trying to make sure everything is where it's supposed to be, that his arm isn't about to just fall off - he gets his hands on the walkie talkie and turns it on.
He knows how to do that, and how to set it up to record a video, even though it's way more high tech than anything even Howard had access to. It doesn't occur to him to think that's weird just yet.
It's a familiar face to some - but he addresses the Barge like he's never been here before and has very little idea of what to expect. He's still in the plain white t-shirt, the room behind him is incredibly plain and somewhat militaristic while still somehow looking warm and comforting, and he manages a smile that looks something like his usual cocky self, but also a little... hollow. Like he's not really sure he remembers how to do it correctly.]
This is Sergeant James Barnes, formerly with the 107th Infantry. U.S. Army. Most people call me Bucky. [Meaning: you should call him Bucky.] I've been on assignment with the SSR and the Howling Commandos for the last couple months, but I guess someone decided I'd be better off transferring here for as long as this Admiral guy thinks I'll be useful. [He says it like a joke, but he's actually really uneasy about the whole thing, if he's really being honest. He'd woken up here beaten to hell and drowning in his own blood, and he's a little more shaken up about it than he'd like to admit he is.
At least the usual Brooklyn drawl is doing a pretty good job of masking it.]
So if anyone's got some advice on what to expect for the new guy, I'd appreciate it.
[There's another smile, and it seems like he's going to leave it at that, but then his expression clouds a little and he adds, almost as an afterthought:]
... Are cabins always something you've lived in back in the real world?
[ooc: Multiples for spam are welcome, as is assuming you were there when he was brought in/sleeping off being healed.]