So, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess Steve ratted me out.

[Says Bucky, now wearing a standard issue US Army combat uniform circa 1943, looking completely nonplussed (this time meaning totally not bothered by what's going on around him, English, you're a weird language) as he broadcasts from- hey, is that Steve's room?

It totally is. He might have claimed it for his own and kicked Steve out, because this place is a lot nicer than the underground bunker or whatever the other Bucky's apparently been living in. He's sitting on the couch with his feet propped on a coffee table, not that you can see it from the angle of the camera, and he definitely looks like he's made himself at home.]

Which means it goes without saying that boot camp's off. I couldn't really give less of a shit if any of you know how to dig a trench or get through an hour of combat. Anyone who's still interested is on their own until your fearless leader comes back.

If he comes back.

[Because who knows? Time's ticking on, and things still haven't righted themselves. This is either a really long fuck up, or they're stranded. Either way, it's not really looking so good, is it?

The sort of lazy, bored smirk he's been sporting up until this point fades for a moment, before stretching a little wider, almost like he's disbelievingly amused.]

So, out of curiosity, what's he like? Your "Bucky Barnes."

[There's a little more teeth in his expression now, and it's not exactly in a good way. His eyes look pretty dead.]

Don't tell me you're not curious about what you'd be like if things were totally different.

[Bucky's taken a day, and he knows a few things:

1. He's an inmate here, so no weapons, limited boost from the serum, no warden areas and no asking the Admiral for any supplies.
2. People here are just as gullible and easy to fool as they had been on the normal Barge.
3. Steve is going to be a fucking problem.

So they'll still find out who he is eventually, but he's going to try to bide his time as long as possible. He's already seen himself mentioned as unaffected on Arthas' list, and he's not surprised, but he's also feeling more than a little self satisfied. He's done his homework.

He's in his cabin when he clicks on the video feed, wearing the blue Commandos jacket just like his counterpart usually seems to and smirks a little lazily at the camera.]

I know we're steal dealing with some pretty rough shit, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel good to be back in my right mind again. [He's seen the conversation with the Emperor. Pathetic.]

While we're still figuring out who's who, anyone who's interested and not currently a psycho: boot camp's starting up again first thing tomorrow. You guys all know what to expect by now.

Anyone got any questions, you know how to find me.

[He's going to need to figure out a way for someone to get him into the CES...]

[Spam, September 30 - October 3]

[This is a different part from what he's had to play before, but unlike his counterpart struggling to keep up a mask of indifference to the suffering of others, this Bucky's finding it incredibly easy to pretend like he cares about these people. He smiles, makes smalltalk, delicately probes for more information, and they just spill. There haven't been too many who have looked at him with anything but trust, and those who have viewed him with suspicion apparently haven't put two and two together yet.

So Bucky seemingly goes about life as usual, even if there's something maybe a little bit off about him. He's quick to brush it off as being bitter about his trip through the door, at losing a month to being out of his mind and terrified of everything, but it's still... a little odd.

Feel free to catch him in the dining hall, the gym, heading back to his room, or conveniently carrying too many things - books, usually, but sometimes equipment for boot camp - to be able to open the lock on a warden area by himself, and if you could grab the door, he'd really appreciate it, thanks. Boot camp starts up again, and is virtually identical to the routine that people had been running before Bucky had gotten too incoherent to continue, except sometimes his motivational barbs sound more like direct insults. But that's what a drill sergeant does, right?

The only thing that's really different is that he doesn't seem to be gravitationally pulled back into orbiting around Steve as much as he usually does. They don't not spend time together, but Bucky seems off on his own for most of the day, or talking with other people like nothing's wrong. Because it isn't. Everything's fine.]

[ooc: Tags will be coming from shieldcatchesyou! Steve is going to officially out him on Friday. :|b]

['Sup, Barge. Bucky has apparently made his way onto the planet's surface, and has somehow got his hands on what looks like a sniper rifle - it's a Walther Gewehr 43, in case we've got any weapons experts around. Not an American gun. He's dressed in a heavy looking jacket Stiles might recognize except it's black instead of blue, and-

Hey. What's that patch on his arm?

Oh.

About that.

Did he forget to mention?]

You know, for a group of hyper paranoid, beaten down wrecks of human beings, you're all pretty easy to dupe. Come up with some sob story, get those doe eyes going, and you'll believe anything, won't you? [He grins, and there are too many teeth in it to look friendly.]

I've got some bad news.

[Bad news for some, anyway. Bucky certainly doesn't seem to think it's bad news. It's sort of refreshing, to go back to showing your true colors after playing the kicked puppy for a couple days.]

Ned's planning a break out tomorrow during dinner. Crichton's in on it, too, and they're trying to organize anyone else who's willing to come with. If anyone wants to go after 'em, now might be a good time.

My good pal Cassel's another one of the stowaways from that other Barge. I don't know what his game plan is, but you might wanna make sure that doesn't get too far out of hand before he gets a chance to make his move.

[And with that all said, he starts loading the rifle almost lazily, like he's got all the time in the world.]

See, back where I'm from? My bosses have an expression: cut off one head, two more'll take its place. [You've heard him talk about HYDRA before, what they were planning and how they were going about doing it. He just lied about his involvement.] I figure the Barge isn't all that different.

[When he looks back at the camera, there's a viciousness in his eyes and expression that makes him look like a predator] You can run, you can hide, but we're always gonna be here to catch you. You can think the ship's dying all you want, but that doesn't change that you're still gonna be here tomorrow, and so are we. And we're not going anywhere.

[He finishes loading the weapon, clicks off the safety like he's making a point.]

Anyone who's interested in heading out and getting supplies to fix the damn ship can come with me. Anyone who's pissed off their friends were dumb enough to trust the new guy gets a bullet between the eyes. I don't miss.

[It's not said as a challenge. It's a fact.

There's a beat of hesitation when he reaches to kill the feed, and then chuckles darkly.]

Oh, yeah.

Hail HYDRA.

[Slightly Backdated Spam for Morgana]

[He's known since he got the idea that this game was never going to last forever. Eventually, people would find out who and what he is, and there's no point in hiding it.

The disturbance just pushed the date up a little, and the crash on the planet? Well. We can't have people running off, can we?

So he's already planning on outing himself and the others when he steps out onto the alien planet in his jacket, rifle slung over his shoulder, gun at his hip. He's not planning on sticking around for the fallout, because he's got other work to do, more important things to discuss.

And then he spots Morgana, looking like she's apparently planning on investigating where exactly they'd wound up, too.

There's some small part of him that almost feels badly about what's going to have to happen.]

Where are you going?