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JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME
You awaken to godawful static overlaying a female voice that's too monotone to be anything but a recording. The static makes it difficult to understand the warning, but it's clearly a warning if your surroundings tell you anything...
You're buckled into a sturdy seat bolted to the wall behind you. Around you, there are dozens of others like you, some awake and others still unconscious, but it seems most of the seats lining the walls are occupied. The lights are dim, likely auxiliary lighting, leaving you mostly in the dark. You smell smoke and hear the sizzling crackle of electrical systems popping and shorting out. Some of the seats were jarred off the wall, leaving the occupants either wounded or dead. Count yourself lucky all you have is a headache and various aches accounted to whiplash.
You appear to be in a drop ship or an escape vessel of some form but the pilot is dead and the hull bears a massive gash where it buckled under the impact and sheered off. Through the door-sized opening, you can see vegetation. The air that wafts in is heavy with a humid heat, but it's obviously breathable.
Once you make your way outside, you'll see greenery: Trees, grass, and shrubs tangled with vines that grow wildly and suffocate the trees they climb. In the distance, behind the ship, you can make out a sandy desert that seems to stretch on endlessly. Forward through the trees, however, you may see a crumbling wall, but more importantly, you'll see signs of civilisation. Buildings and other structures seem contained within those decrepit walls. Maybe the natives can fill you in on what's going on, because the last thing you remember isn't being in an escape shuttle. As a matter of fact, you don't remember much about your arrival or where you are. But it's going to be a bit of a hike, better get moving. Though you might want to grab the backpack of supplies under your seat before you go.
With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.
no subject
[He might be trying to pull away but Steve isn't letting him. He meets Bucky's gaze- which is clear and pierces through him like the Bucky he remembers and he's pulling him forward into another hug. The guilt and the grief he'd been feeling since 1943 finally start to lessen because Bucky is here, standing in front of him and he knows him and he's not going anywhere. It's too much, and Steve doesn't say anything- can't say anything just holds him tighter.
Finally he pulls back, listening to what Bucky says about Clint.]
He'll get over it once he realizes you aren't HYDRA anymore. They all will. What HYDRA made you do- that wasn't you Buck.
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Even if it wasn't, it's still me that haunts people. They see HYDRA's pet assassin, they don't see Sergeant Barnes. You see me because you know me. You know what isn't me. As far as they're all concerned, I'm a cold-blooded killer. [And that sort of terrifies him because when that distinction can't be made, who's left beneath it? He could see it in the way the Archer itched for a weapon upon recognition of the Winter Soldier.]
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And eventually they will see you too, and not the Winter Soldier. Just give it some time. [Ever the stubborn optimist.]
no subject
Give it time... We're liable to have plenty of that if we don't find out where we are and how to get back.