bucky with the good hair (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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meadowlarklogs2020-11-02 12:54 am
deadthenred) wrote in meadowlarklogs2020-11-02 12:54 am
Entry tags:
fear itself
WHO: Bucky Barnes + ???
WHERE: the dreamscape
WHEN: vague pre-event beforetimes.
WHAT: three nightmares.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: feelings of inadequacy, vampires
[ In his dreams, it's 1943 again. ]
[ Maybe you've had this nightmare before. Like showing up to take a final for a class you've forgotten to attend the whole semester, this is one that repeats.
There's a podium, a microphone— one of those old-timey, radio looking pieces. Behind the podium is an enormous star-spangled flag. There might be cameras in the audience, too, but the people out there are dark, nebulous, hard to see. One thing's for sure, though: they're all watching.
You gotta make a speech. ]
[ The signs on the buildings here are all in French, but the soldiers are speaking English. They're crowded around their jeeps, mostly, biding time until reinforcements arrive and they can follow Patton up to the front. The only electricity right now is coming from batteries, and there are still holes in all the buildings from when the Germans blew right through, and the roads are still more mud than pavement.
Winter was unkind, in this part of Europe. It's still cold.
In fact, Bucky's teeth are close to chattering as he approaches the dark house, the street illuminated by memory, if not by lamplight. Some part of his subconscious knows what he's gonna find here. ]
Look. [ He turns to whoever's he's walking with, younger than usual, the cold snapping in his voice. ] Maybe we shouldn't go in.
[ A lot of people in this town have died, recently. Not all of them have stayed dead. ]
[ The picture is black and white, but you can tell that the man's uniform is red, white, and blue. Captain America, the name blares in the tin of a radio announcer. He has the strength of ten men, the speed of ten horses, and the heart of a can-do patriot. He's the latest miracle of American engineering, and he's fighting on the side of freedom! So look out, Hitler and Hirohito—
And then the man smiles like a poster, except he's not a poster anymore, everything's all in living color. And he looks straight ahead, and says: ]
What makes you think you could ever keep up?
WHERE: the dreamscape
WHEN: vague pre-event beforetimes.
WHAT: three nightmares.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: feelings of inadequacy, vampires
[ In his dreams, it's 1943 again. ]
1)
[ Maybe you've had this nightmare before. Like showing up to take a final for a class you've forgotten to attend the whole semester, this is one that repeats.
There's a podium, a microphone— one of those old-timey, radio looking pieces. Behind the podium is an enormous star-spangled flag. There might be cameras in the audience, too, but the people out there are dark, nebulous, hard to see. One thing's for sure, though: they're all watching.
You gotta make a speech. ]
2)
[ The signs on the buildings here are all in French, but the soldiers are speaking English. They're crowded around their jeeps, mostly, biding time until reinforcements arrive and they can follow Patton up to the front. The only electricity right now is coming from batteries, and there are still holes in all the buildings from when the Germans blew right through, and the roads are still more mud than pavement.
Winter was unkind, in this part of Europe. It's still cold.
In fact, Bucky's teeth are close to chattering as he approaches the dark house, the street illuminated by memory, if not by lamplight. Some part of his subconscious knows what he's gonna find here. ]
Look. [ He turns to whoever's he's walking with, younger than usual, the cold snapping in his voice. ] Maybe we shouldn't go in.
[ A lot of people in this town have died, recently. Not all of them have stayed dead. ]
3)
[ The picture is black and white, but you can tell that the man's uniform is red, white, and blue. Captain America, the name blares in the tin of a radio announcer. He has the strength of ten men, the speed of ten horses, and the heart of a can-do patriot. He's the latest miracle of American engineering, and he's fighting on the side of freedom! So look out, Hitler and Hirohito—
And then the man smiles like a poster, except he's not a poster anymore, everything's all in living color. And he looks straight ahead, and says: ]
What makes you think you could ever keep up?
no subject
[ There's pity in that voice, but the cloying kind, the kind you wish wouldn't stick. ] It's alright to lose your way once in a while.
[ But is it? ]
Just say it in Russian.
no subject
[ there's a slight sneer from him, a stubborn tilt of his hip as he keeps his gaze on Steve Rogers.
his brother's teammate. his brother's friend. at times, someone his brother cared for more than him, and possibly still does. it feels good to deny him. ]
A little please goes a long way.
no subject
[ More evidence that he's not really talking to Loki. This isn't Loki's dream. ]
Didn't teach you how to follow orders, though. You learned that somewhere else. But there's a chain of command, here.
[ His voice has softened somewhat, but he doesn't say please. ]
no subject
[ there's a snort through his nose. ]
Why don't you just get down to it?
no subject
[ He says it matter-of-fact, like a coach letting a kid know he wouldn't make varsity. Condescending without being mean, but stinging all the same. ]
There's blood on your hands, and nothing you do will ever get it off. But you already knew that.
no subject
Let's be honest: I don't care. Sometimes the best method of becoming yourself is realizing that you're not good enough. [ he says hotly. ] Good enough for who, may I ask? You?
[ there's a snort. ]
I'm quite good enough for myself. I've never been fond of your particular brand of culture-specific expectations, anyway. Why don't we play something else instead?
[ hm. ]
Where's the source?
no subject
Source? [ His mouth twists. ] What do you mean?
no subject
The dreamer.
[ he has his suspicions, but no confirmation. no one he knows well enough to not be sloppy. ]
no subject
He was never very subtle.
no subject
[ perhaps he would, and perhaps he's feeling a little evasive. ]
Where is he?
no subject
[ There's a snort, the kind that also says, typical. He was good at hiding. But maybe Loki can shake him out, if he keeps pushing. ]
no subject
[ the words drawl from his lips. then, partially to himself he says: ]
Hiding in your own space.
no subject
[ The person who isn't really Steve agrees. Someone else's voice creeps into his, ringing discordant.
There's something else in the scenario that shifts, felt but unseen, like the buzz at the back of your head when someone's standing behind you. ]
no subject
I can do cowardly.
[ but the words are more because he feels like he wants to be contrary in this situation, so anything ""Steve"" says, the opposite response is given. ]
no subject
[ "Steve" is at least more consistent than Loki. Even if he's a projection of someone else's fears, and fears are hard to pin down. ]
I thought that might drive him out, though.
no subject
This is your space, you know. Will you allow this invasion of it?
no subject
Oh, I'm always here. This is where I live. And he'd rather have me than no one at all.
no subject
[ he's holding up a hand to ""Steve,"" his eyes roaming the rest of the dream, as if he's searching for something. he is. ]
They probably can't hear me above your yabbering.