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Post by Deleted on Apr 13, 2014 23:19:27 GMT -5
[/i][/ul][/font][/font] the voice recorder continued in one of the displays far behind him but he barely paid attention. He stood there, staring at the display of Captain America and the Howling Commandos, no visible reaction on his features but inside there was a super storm of images, emotions, and mass confusion. He didn't even know how to comprehend what he was seeing, but the longer he stared at the figures on display in front of him, the more he began to doubt everything he had been told. It had to be just a very big coincidence, he was trying to convince himself of that, because there was no way that this would be possible otherwise. He was Russian, born and raised, he was currently assigned on a special mission to assist HYDRA, having already eliminated one target, he had been about to eliminate Captain America and the Black Widow. It would have been a done deal, but then he had been transported here, hundreds of miles away. The Winter Soldier turned, keeping his head lowered so that his baseball cap helped conceal his features ( he had no idea who might know him here in this place, especially if what the archer girl had spoken truthfully and people were coming in from all over the place), fully intending on leaving this exhibit to find answers elsewhere.
And then he saw it. What the kid had clearly meant for him to see.
His blood ran cold as he froze in place, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen in front of him. "The best of friends and partners, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable both on and off the battlefield. Bucky Barnes is the only Howling Commando to have given his life in service of his country."[/color] the voice recorder continued, emanating from one of the hidden speakers near the display that showed an image of James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes and a short biography of his childhood leading up to the point of his death. The Winter Soldier managed to keep his features carefully controlled, his heart still beating at a normal pace, but he felt as cold on the inside as the country he hailed from. Or was it? Now he couldn't be sure.
This wasn't possible. It couldn't be him. None of that made sense and he had absolutely no memories of any of the information the display was giving him. It had to be a fluke, something that this universe had that might be relevant to it but in his universe it was a completely different story. Maybe in this universe this Bucky did exist as the exhibit showed, but in his? No, there was no one like that. But the resemblance was uncanny, to the point that even though he was trying to convince himself of it being merely a coincidence, it was proving extremely difficult. He finally tore his gaze away from the image towards one of the displays that showed video footage from the war, of what clearly was a young version of Bucky Barnes, fighting alongside Captain America.
Images flashed across his mind, as if they were memories struggling to re-surface from the depths, and he saw himself standing next to a man, whom he identified as the man called Steve Rogers, but they were laughing and joking. And then he was lying on a ridge-line, sniper rifle in hand, keeping a look out for the Captain who was moving amongst the wreckage below. He spotted one of the enemies around a corner who raised his rifle to shoot Steve, but a clean shot from his own sniper rifle took out the enemy, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Steve gave him a quick salute and he nodded in return, returning his gaze to the area for any other sign of activity. Someone bumped into him then, snapping him out of his reverie and he glanced down just in time to see a kid move on past, having accidentally knocked into him. The Winter Soldier closed his eyes briefly, looking back up at the video. It was all so familiar and yet so strange at the same time, and for the first time, the Winter Soldier was at a loss as to what to do.
tag Cap! word count 895 notes Oh boy...........Also exhibit ideas taken from MCU but modified to fit better into this universe lyrics Dance with the Devil by Breaking Benjamin credit Rae of Sunshine! of Caution 2.0 made this temp!
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HERO
The price of freedom is high, and it's a price I'm willing to pay.
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Post by Steven Rogers on Apr 14, 2014 21:34:28 GMT -5
NOTE: Steve’s involvement in this thread takes place AFTER the events of Land of Confusion. Steve felt bad relaxing at a time like this. The world was going to Hell in a hand basket, but he needed to gather himself and visiting all the old propaganda stuff usually sparked him into action, helped him clear his head and remember what he’s fighting for. Wearing just a pair of slacks, a shirt, and a light jacket, Steve took a walk down memory lane. He passed by some of the exhibits showing off his early days as Captain America, and you could almost cringe at the old uniform. He could best relate it to modern day teenagers looking at yearbook pictures after they graduated. Walking through this place really took him back to those days. AUGUST 1941 CAMP LEHIGH
Steve didn't like the idea of Captain America having a sidekick. When the General brought him out to the training field, he was still unsure but pretty impressed. There, easily fending off two attackers was a small soldier who had probably lied about his age to get into the Army. His fighting skills were very good though. The General informed Steve that this was James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes; and this was to be his new partner. But before he could sign off, he had to give the kid a tryout himself.
NOWSteve’s memory of that day had been jogged when he saw a piece of the drone that he thought Bucky had given his life to stop that had been salvaged and later brought here to be put on display. He’d say that it felt like a lifetime ago and even though it wasn't for him, the funny thing is that it actually WAS a lifetime ago. He thankfully didn't lose Bucky forever but he did lose him. Then, thanks to the Cosmic Cube, he had been brought back to Steve. It didn't matter that since then, Bucky had gone MIA a few more times, because Steve was just happy to know he was alive. He came across one of Bucky’s old costumes, and inside he laughed; the dang things always made Bucky seem like a little kid but by the end of their adventures he’d been buying the boys rounds after a successful mission. JULY 1942 EUROPE
As the German forces set upon them, The Invaders never gave an inch. As Steve went to handle a Panzer that was bearing down on them, Bucky kept at his side helping to clear the path. Namor, the Human Torch, and Toro had their hands full with a heavily guarded MG nest and it was Captain America and Bucky’s turn to play cover men. Steve threw his shield, bouncing it off one soldier and ricocheting it right into the treads of the tank; the Vibranium shield held and jammed the tank to a complete stop. As the red, white, and blue warriors punched, kicked, and threw their way to the top of the tank. As Cap used his Super Soldier strength to pry the lock on the tank, Bucky, liberated a German grenade from its owner with a quick hand and a hard fist. In an instant the tank was permanently disabled as Bucky tossed the grenade in and Steve returned the lid to its properly closed position, both men getting free and finishing up the ground troops. “Great work, Bucky. Now, let’s go see if the rest of our team left some Nazis for us up on the hill,” Steve quipped as the two shared a laugh. That laugh would be short-lived however. Unbeknownst to Captain America, a soldier has retained consciousness and raised his MP40 to the Super Soldier, ready to strike a deadly blow to America morale. But the German had the misfortune of being within eyesight of the Star Spangled Man’s trusty sidekick Bucky who responded quicker than a flash by drawing a knife from his belt and with a deadly accurate throw buried the knife into the Nazi’s throat. It wasn't the first nor would it be the last time that Bucky had save Captain America from a grisly fate.NOWRemembering the good old days Steve almost didn't notice that he wasn't alone in this exhibit. A man had been looking at one of the other exhibits on Bucky. The man was dressed in a manner that Steve considered suspicious. He had learned in the modern times that when a guy pulled his hat down to obscure his face, he had something to hide. He turned to approach the man, but catching a glimpse of just a portion of his face caused Steve to freeze up. Normally a person couldn't recognize someone just based on a quick glance at only part of them, but when you fought against death every day for four years with your closest friend only to lose him, regain him, and then watch him accomplish the greatness you did, you know a guy just by seeing a hair strand. In a confused and excited tone, Steve said, “Bucky?”
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Post by Deleted on Apr 15, 2014 15:56:39 GMT -5
He didn’t understand what he was feeling, the longer he stood there staring at all of the pieces from the past. In the Red Room, they trained their operatives to set aside emotions, any types of connections, because that made a person weak. He was their best. Cold, ruthless, efficient, and methodical in everything he did. There was no wasted effort, there was no hesitation, only carrying out the mission. How many had died at his hand? He had lost track long ago and didn’t bother to try and remember. It wasn’t as if he enjoyed killing. No, he simply did what was necessary, what had to be done. It was why they had requested him for this operation. They had known that by utilizing him that they would be able to successfully carry out their plans because the Winter Soldier never failed to eliminate his targets. Yet now there was just the tiniest of hairline fractures in that carefully constructed, almost robotic entity that had been created by the KGB and was the prize possession of Department X. His normally calm, clear mind was starting to become filled with questions that he had no answers to, as if there was a part of him that was fighting to break free. He closed his eyes as images flashed before his eyes, forming into something that seemed almost akin to a memory, which wasn’t possible but at the same time, he wasn’t quite so sure anymore. He was standing on top of a high ridge next to a man he knew to be Captain America as they gazed down over snowy mountains to the train tracks far below. There was a train coming, one that they would need to be able to board if they were going to capture Armin Zola and stop HYDRA from carrying out their plans. He shifted his gaze to Captain America, to Steve Rogers, and felt something swell in his chest. It was complete trust because this man was his best friend, his brother in arms, and he would follow that scrawny kid from Brooklyn to the end of the line. ”Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone on Coney Island?” he heard himself ask as he glanced down at the electric line they were about to slide down to land on the train. ” Yeah, and I threw up?” said Steve as he eyed the distance they would soon be traveling. ”This isn’t payback, is it?” Steve flashed him a grin. ”Now why would I do that?” He found himself chuckling quietly and then it was time to go. The scene changed and he was firing at one of the HYDRA agents coming towards them, ducking out of the way behind a pile of crates to prevent himself from getting shot in the crossfire. The wind was whipping through the train car, coming through the raw opening that had been torn out by an explosion. He saw Steve get struck and the armored HYDRA agent advancing on him. Without a thought, he picked up Steve’s shield, using it as protection, and fired off rounds towards the agent to draw him away from Steve. Then something struck him, sending him flying back and it was only by a stroke of luck that he was able to grab onto a metal pipe, now hanging precariously on the outside of a very fast moving train. Steve was there in an instant. ”Grab my hand!” he yelled, reaching. He saw himself reaching towards his friend but the pipe was starting to give away. Terror flooded his heart as he realized what was about to happen a moment before it did. ”BUCKY!!” he heard Steve yell but he was already falling, the train growing smaller and smaller as he fell towards the icy depths of the fjord, his mouth open in a silent scream.”Bucky?”The voice jolted him out of the memory with a slight jerk and his eyes flashed open to see a man, no, not just a man, it was the man from those images, Steve Rogers, Captain America. But first and foremost, and ultimately most important to the Winter Soldier, was that he was his mission. Before the universe had decided to dump him here for whatever reason (he was still trying to figure out exactly what had happened), he had been so close taking out his targets. He had had the woman on the run, a clean shot through her shoulder that would cause her to bleed out if he didn’t end her life first. Then he would have moved onto Captain America and that would have been that. He’d report back mission accomplished and be ready for his next set of orders. But he had been interrupted and since his arrival here, he had been more focused on figuring out what was going on then hunting down Captain America because for all he knew, the man didn’t even exist here. If this place was as isolated as the female archer had said, then who knew exactly who would be dropped here. But it seemed luck was on his side. His target had simply walked up to him and he couldn’t have asked for more. His gaze was cold, his features carefully schooled despite the raging confusion going on within him as he looked upon his target. Though there was a very faint flash of something in his eyes when the man had said that name, the one from the images in his mind, the one from this exhibit they both stood before. A quick glance off to the side and back to the man as a tiny sliver of himself knew this man, knew that name, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, and other than that, there was no sign of recognition. There would be time to sort whatever all that had been later but right now, he had a job to do. Did he care that there was a crowd of people nearby? Not at all. If they got in the way, he would eliminate them, simple as that. ”Who the hell is Bucky?” he responded to the man’s query and within mere seconds, he reached out with his bionic arm to grab hold of the man’s neck, lifting him up only to throw him back towards one of the nearby walls. People started panicking around them but he turned them out, his gaze hard and focused as he stalked towards his target. A flash of metal and he had a knife in his hand. His bionic arm had its advantages and having had the knife strapped close by had allowed it to go unnoticed by the metal detectors. He always ensured he had a weapon handy and the rest of the arsenal he had arrived with was carefully stored for easy access as soon as he was out of this building. The Winter Soldier had already assessed the entire building, even before he had entered this exhibit area, so he was very familiar with all of the entrances and exits. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two security guards running towards him, yelling. He ignored their words, taking his gaze off of his target for a moment to deal with them. One lunged towards him and he slipped out of the way effortlessly, lashing out with a well-placed kick that sent the guard flying into one of the exhibits, leaving him crumpled on the ground. The second guard he noted had a gun trained on him and without hesitation, the Winter Soldier threw the knife in his hand to bury it in the man’s chest. The guard dropped to the ground with a thud and the Winter Soldier grabbed both gun from the dead man’s hand and the knife that had been used with expert precision to end the man’s life. Then he spun on his heel to face his target, ready for whatever he would attempt. Remaining completely focused on the mission was the only thing preventing that confusion from bubbling back up to the surface. tag Steve
word count [/b] 1964 notes[/b] </3 Also I love how they both have very different memories, being from different universes, but the same basics are still the same lyrics Dance with the Devil by Breaking Benjamin credit Rae of Sunshine! of Caution 2.0 made this temp!
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HERO
The price of freedom is high, and it's a price I'm willing to pay.
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Post by Steven Rogers on Apr 16, 2014 0:47:09 GMT -5
Bucky was one of the few fighters in the world with the speed to catch Steve Rogers in a fight; even more so when he’s not expecting his best friend to make an attack. He didn’t even have time to react to Bucky’s question before he found himself crumpled up against a wall. Steve got to his feet just in time to see Buck end two innocent men’s lives; was it possible that Bucky had been reprogrammed once again? Or what if this wasn’t even his Bucky?
1943 ALLIED EUROPEAN BASE
Steve may have had the Super Soldier Serum running through him, but that was no excuse to neglect his training. Especially when he had a partner that had long since surpassed even special force troops in combat ability that needed training. Cracking his knuckles and stretching his arms to limber them up, he turned to face his smaller but equally talented protégé. “So Buck, you think you’ve got a chance to bring your win/loss up a bit more.” With a smile and assuming of a stance, Bucky readied himself as Steve began one of their regular sparring matches.
NOW
Having faced Bucky like this before, Steve knew the absolute first thing he needed to do was prevent any more innocent people from being hurt. And without his shield, it was going to be extremely difficult to match someone with Buck’s aim. Killing two birds with one stone, he began dodging behind displays in order to keep a barrier between the two and draw attention away from the people who were panicking and running for any exit they could find. He himself needed to do the same, as his shield was outside firmly affixed to his motorcycle. So for now his best bet was to play dodge and weave. “Bucky, I don’t know what’s wrong or if you’re brainwashed again, but you’ve got to listen to me!” Damn, Bucky was a good shot as one came dangerously close to hitting its mark. “It’s me, Steve! You’ve got to stop this!”
1944 FRANCE
Surrounded by Nazi soldiers, Captain America had no choice but to halt at their command. And for an occasion such as this, the general himself felt the need to be present at the arrest of Captain America. He’d be promoted to one of Hitler’s top men for this. “<So, Captain. It seems you are not as powerful as the stories say. I commend you for your valor, but it was foolish to think you could take our base>,” the general spoke with glee. Things looked pretty bad for the embodiment of America’s fighting spirit, until a smile swept across his face. “<No, general, you’re the foolish one. Did you really think Captain America wouldn’t have his trusty sidekick with him wherever he travelled?>” The general didn’t even have time to change the expression on his face before the bullet penetrated his neck. The stunned soldiers couldn’t make heads or tails of what just happened before Cap’s shield bounced around among several of them, his fists and feet bouncing around the others. The occasional bullet would fly by Cap and hit a soldier who took aim to his back. Between punches, Cap was able to toss a thumbs up in the direction of Bucky’s sniper nest as a show of thanks for the backup.
NOW Steve was getting close to the door. Bucky wasn’t wasting shots, he never did that. So moving as quickly, efficiently, and often as possible were an essential part of his plan. He’d seen Buck take that gun off the security guard so he knew there was a finite supply. So close to a door. So close to getting out of civilian fire range. "Snap out of it, Bucky! I know you can fight it!"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2014 21:24:53 GMT -5
They may have come from different universes but one thing remained the same: whomever this man thought he was didn't exist anymore. Or if he did, he was deeply suppressed beneath all the decades of programming that had made him into nothing but a tool of the KGB, of HYDRA, of whomever needed his services. Target elimination was what he was trained for and what he was used for, and if he wasn't in the middle of a mission, he was taken to that cold, dimly lit room where he was forced to lay back in a chair, the whir of machines surrounding him. He could still remember The feel of the chair that he had to lay back on, the cold, unforgiving nature of the clamps as they came down over his arms and legs to pin him to the chair so he couldn't resist, the rubbery taste of the mouthguard he took without complaint, and then the pain....the feeling of being drug over hot coals, electrocuted, and stabbed by a million tiny knives all at once couldn't even begin to describe it as they would reprogram him, wiping his slate clean if necessary, and insert new information into his mind for whatever they needed him for next. It wasn't that he remembered being completely wiped, but there were echoes of things still there, still present in his mind, but they would always slip away when he tried to reach for them. There were things he could do that even he didn't know why he could, but he had learned to accept and move with it. His mission was simple. Two targets, level six. Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, and Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. Confirmation of deaths within ten hours. Had it been ten hours yet? He wasn't sure, but his orders were clear and the Winter Soldier never failed. His target success rate was one hundred percent and it wasn't going to fall simply because he had been suddenly displaced. Although once he completed his mission, there was a part of him that wondered what he was supposed to do. They never provided him standing orders, ones that would be there in place as a contingency plan. There were no contingency plans with the Winter Soldier because he always completed his mission. He would return back to base, report in, and then they would 'cleanse' him and return him to that cold, dark place. The place that even now haunted him. It wasn't good, he knew that, but it also wasn't his place to question it. He would do as told, as instructed, and it was simple as that. The Winter Soldier fired off several rounds in the direction of the other man...Rogers - his mission. Even though the man was using different displays to try and hide behind, the Winter Soldier never hesitated. He shot directly through glass, fragile mementos, and anything that got in his way. The man called him that name again, that name that sounded wrong but at the same time, it didn't, and he didn't like it. The Winter Soldier tried to focus on the task at hand, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze cold and hard as he shot off another round, this time narrowly missing Rogers. That in itself caused him to pause, just for a moment. There had been no reason to miss. Rogers had been right out in the open as he traveled to another display to use in place of the shield the Winter Soldier knew he was known for. It should have been an instant kill shot, yet it had missed by a hair. The Winter Soldier never missed... "You're never going to get into the Army if you're afraid of guns." he heard a young man say as a moment in time surged forth in his mind. He knew the face of the young man, it was the one from the exhibit, the one named James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, the one with the face that was all too similar to his own. He slung his arm around a much shorter, blond-haired teenage boy, guiding him down the street from the gym they had been frequenting for the past several weeks. The other boy pushed away, giving him a look.
"Just because I don't want to shoot, doesn't mean I can't enlist Buck."
He felt himself raise an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his lips. "And what if you're forced to, huh? I'm not letting my best friend get shot because he was too stubborn to learn how to hold a gun." He chuckled, nudging his best friend with the corner of his hip and then reached over to muss up his hair. "Last one back has to do the other's chores for a week!" With a laugh, he took off running down the street and Steve just shook his head, but he was grinning as he took off after his best friend.....The Winter Soldier shook away the memories, refocusing, and realized that the split second delay had cost him precious time as the man neared the door. Clearly the gun wasn't getting anywhere. He shoved it into his belt, the knife still in other hand. "Stop calling me that!" he snapped, running full force towards the other man. He slammed into the other, knocking them through the glass of the door and out onto the front steps of the museum. The sound of glass shattering around them filled the air but the Winter Soldier didn't pause. He scrambled to his feet, taking only a moment to regain his footing, and lunged at the other in a series of quick movements, slashing with the knife and striking out with his metal arm. He didn't want to hear that name, the one from inside. He landed a hard kick into the stomach of the other man, sending him flying towards the base of the stairs, and stalked after him, knife raised. This man was his first priority. The woman was his second. Eliminate number one, then two, then report back. Those were his orders. tag Steve
word count [/b] 1964 notes[/b] </3 lyrics Dance with the Devil by Breaking Benjamin credit Rae of Sunshine! of Caution 2.0 made this temp!
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HERO
The price of freedom is high, and it's a price I'm willing to pay.
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Post by Steven Rogers on Apr 23, 2014 1:26:20 GMT -5
Steve couldn’t believe he had lost his best friend AGAIN. He remembered what it had done to him, how crazy in denial he’d been at first before finally accepting it. But even then, he could not bring himself to let Bucky be lost. That time, he’d had a massively underpowered Cosmic Cube; this time, he had his shield out in the parking lot.
1943 EUROPE
Captain America and Bucky rarely got themselves involved in trench combat. They were part of the specialized team The Invaders that handled almost exclusively missions deemed too dangerous for your average soldiers. But this was a special circumstance. The First Infantry Division, perhaps the most famous military division in America, was in need of some backup. They didn’t really expect just two men to make much of a difference, but the way the two could go from trench to trench, clearing them out without so much as a scratch. But if you asked Steve, the real heroes of the day we the Big Red One. While he and Bucky had taken machine gun nests and bunkers, these men were laying down covering fire, stopping ambushes, keeping tanks and jeeps at bay so the patriotic duo could complete their mission. And while neither Cap nor Bucky had suffered any significant injuries from their time with the unit, the First could not say the same. Steve and Buck would always go out of their way to sit with the soldiers closest to those that had lost their lives; the asked them men to share any stories they could. For Cap it was a twofold experiences; the first was so he could always carry a piece of that soldier’s life with himself for the rest of his life, and the second was to show the young sidekick of his that just because they came out unscathed doesn’t mean the men around them weren’t paying the price to stop a madman and free a continent.
NOW
Steve was just about at the door. He could take this out of these tight spaces and retrieve his shield. But before he could reach the handle, Bucky caught him. Slamming through the glass, he could feel the fragments of glass scratching at his skin. He would receive a cut here and there but his body was resilient enough to handle being punched by The Hulk; a door was not going to do him in. Leaping to his feet Steve barely had time to ready a guard as Bucky swarmed on him with the full skill of training from the Allied Forces, KGB, and every other organization that had bought out the services of the Winter Soldier in the past fifty years. Buck was the most dangerous thing this side of Wolverine with a blade, so Steve had to prioritize defending against the slashes and stabs. That means that he couldn’t put much into blocking that metal arm. As blows rang into his right arm and side, his midsection, and almost his head a few times, Steve couldn’t muster the will to fight back. This was his best friend, he needed HELP not punches.
However, a pain exploding into his gut and the landing at the front of the stairs convinced him that he may not have a choice this time. Steve rolled up to his feet and assumed a fighting stance. Looking Buck in the eye he knew he could see the friend he knew and loved somewhere deep in there. And if he buried deep down, then Steve would just have to dig that much more. But he needed to stop the Winter Soldier. First and foremost he HAD to get that knife away from Bucky and THEN he could worry about the arm and maybe even finding his way to the parking lot to retrieve his shield. But it had to start with an offensive against a brainwashed best friend.
“BUCKY! I know you can fight this! I know you’re in there! I’m coming for you!” He shouted as he charged the Winter Soldier, throwing a right cross as his opening move. This would serve as a feint to allow Steve a chance to grab at his fleshy and wrestle the knife away with his own strong front kick to the midsection.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 27, 2014 13:38:59 GMT -5
Civilians were running around them, screaming to get away from the fight, and there were sirens in the distance, but the Winter Soldier paid no mind to them. His only focus was the man in front of him, the one that he knew wore the red, white, and blue suit, the man who was his target, his mission. His motions were fast. It was a thrill fighting this man, in more ways than one. The Winter Soldier had never had someone who could actually keep up with him, both with his strength, speed, and agility, but Rogers was matching him blow for blow. He kept up the barrage of attacks, never slowing, never hesitating, because that would give him time to think and tools didn't think. Tools didn't have wants to desires, or have any other reason of existing except to kill, hit, punch...they were built for certain purposes and there was no room for anything else. Yet despite this programming, there was a tiny part of him that wanted to land those punches, to stop the man from saying those words, from saying that name, and that in itself was a very dangerous thing. He was the Asset. The Weapon. That was what Pierce had called him and that was what he was. They gave him orders and he complied. He didn’t question things. He didn’t want anything. Weapons didn’t have desires. Needs. Nothing. They simply existed and were used against whomever was unfortunate to be in their way. Then why, as he fought this man, did he not go for the kill shots when he had the chance? They stood in a boxing ring. Steve was covered in so much padding he looked like a giant marshmallow whereas he only had his hands wrapped in tape to help protect the skin of his knuckles. Days and hours at the boxing gym had helped him develop calluses on his hands, but the tape was still helped. They would be visiting the recruiter’s office next week and they had to be ready. He had promised his best friend that he would help him get ready before they went to enlist and he never broke his promises. He’d be with him to the end of the line – that’s what he had said to Steve when his mother had died, and that was what he would stick to. They sparred, he allowing Steve openings so the other could get a few hits in, although they never struck with enough force to actually hurt him. He was careful when striking out against his best friend, still providing a challenge, but not wanting to accidentally injure him. It wasn’t babying, it was just a fierce protectiveness that he had for Steve, and the last thing he wanted was for himself to be the reason Steve got hurt. There were times when punches connected, but Steve always got back up on his feet and was ready for more. That was something he admired so much about his best friend – he never stopped, no matter what. He wished he had half the amount of guts that Steve had sometimes.
“Tell you what, you land a punch in the next five minutes, I’ll buy us sodas,” he teased.
“Deal.” Steve grinned and then lunged at him, fists swinging.Why wasn’t he fighting back? Why didn’t he strike? The man was just defending and it caused confusion within his mind. A mind so normally clear of everything but his orders. He struck him, sending him backwards but now the man charged. Good. Yes. He ran forward to meet the man, blocking the opening strike with his metal arm, but then the knife was gone. It mattered little. That was just an extra piece. The Weapon needed nothing but himself and that was deadly enough. However, he didn’t have time to mull this over or react with a counter measure as he was suddenly driven back by a strong kick to his chest. His back impacted a nearby stone pillar, causing it to crack beneath the strength of that impact. He was stunned only for a moment before he leapt back into action with a graceful flip up onto his feet. The knife was gone and he no longer had the guns, but he still had his arm and his hands. He didn’t like it. The man was calling him that name again. That name from the display. The one that he knew he wasn’t. Tools didn’t have names. ”I’M NOT BUCKY!” he yelled, throwing himself into the fight with even more fervor as he ran towards the man, swinging his metal arm to try and connect with the man’s head to daze him, and bringing up his other hand to hit pressure points that would paralyze the man, allowing him to end his life easily. That was the plan. That was the mission. There was a clear tone of panic in his voice as he fought but no, that couldn’t be. Tools didn’t panic. They couldn’t feel. He was just a Weapon. Weapons were made for one thing – to destroy. He lashed out with a kick at the back of the man’s knees, trying to get him off his feet, driving his fists in punches and hooks to take him down. The sirens were getting closer but they were irrelevant to the mission. Lunging forward, his metal arm lashed out to grip the man by the throat and send him crashing towards the ground, ready to strike with all the force he could muster. This was ending. Now. Game over. Mission complete. tag Steve
word count [/b] 1040 notes[/b] </3 lyrics Dance with the Devil by Breaking Benjamin credit Rae of Sunshine! of Caution 2.0 made this temp!
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HERO
The price of freedom is high, and it's a price I'm willing to pay.
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Post by Steven Rogers on May 5, 2014 22:59:40 GMT -5
NOW
Steve couldn’t tell whether it was a good or bad sign that Bucky attacked with more and more ferocity. He was praying to himself that it meant his mind was fighting his body and the programming was trying to stop Steve from bringing back his best friend. He never once let himself pretend that Buck wasn’t one of the toughest opponents a human could fight. Even if his programming was blocking his memories, his body’s muscle memory knew all too well Steve’s moves and how to counter them. He only just barely got hit hand up to the side of his head to block the metal arm, limiting the damage that it would do; but it still hurt like every kind of Hell. Were it not for his enhanced body he surely would’ve have both a broken hand and fractured skull. He was lucky to twist his body to the left to avoid Buck’s right arm making a strike, but luck stopped there as his knees were brought out from under him by a kick. Steve was playing strictly defense now, keeping a boxer’s guard up to block the metal arm; he managed to deflect some of the blows from the right arm, but just about every body-shot would connect. Bucky finally managed to break Steve’s guard as his metal arm forced its way through, latching on to Steve’s throat. With less than a second to react, he flopped onto his back and grabbed the arm with both hands. Utilizing a Brazilian Jujitsu move, Steve swung both legs up, intertwining them in a way that had Buck’s neck wrapped up by his feet and the arms wrapped by his legs. The two combatants would now be forced to play a game of ‘who faints first?’
NORMANDY, FRANCE JUNE 1944
It was almost here; Operation Overlord, the Allied Invasion of German occupied France. The plans were nearly finalized and only one major hitch would prevent an Allied success. There was a secret Nazi base on the beach equipped with automatic cannons that would tear through soldiers left and right unless they were stopped beforehand. Captain America and Bucky had been given the momentous task of infiltrating and taking down that base. And they wouldn’t be alone; Nicky Fury and the Howling Commandos would be joining them.
It sounded simple when you said it; break in in the dead of night, disable the cannons, scatter the troops, and take the officers. But getting in hadn’t been easy. Cap took the lead, scaling the wall ahead of the Commandos to begin clearing the guards. And of course no Nazi would be able to try and take Cap from behind as Bucky was serving covering fire from a sniper position outside the base; he’d move in once the perimeter was cleared out.
Fast forward two hours and the unit had taken all but the officer’s barracks where the top echelon had hidden themselves away. Nazi soldier all throughout the base had either been knocked unconscious, forced to surrender, or were going to be a letter sent to the widow. But the officers not once came out to surrender the base. They let most of their men die in an ultimately failed attempt to save their own hides. Cap’s foot struck the doors with such force that they were blown off the hinges in a shower of splinters. His shield up to deflect gunfire , he was ready to make them pay for their cowardice and the needless death. Instead Cap found an intensely disturbing scene; every single officer lay either on the floor or in a chair, gunshot wounds to every head. They couldn’t have surrendered and saved their troops lives because once it became apparent this was a losing battle, they had elected to take their own lives rather than be captured.
Cap turned to one of the Commandos, who had been saddled with the radio to communicate when the mission were successful. In a somber voice he spoke, “Tell them the base is ours. Operation Overlord is a go.”
NOW
If not for his reflexes and strength, Steve would be dead this very moment. This arm was every bit as strong as he remembered and it took everything he had just to keep it from crushing his windpipe. Steve increased the pressure around Bucky’s neck in the hopes that he would need to use his other hand to prevent Steve from knocking him out; it was his only defense against the free space Buck would have to hammer away at his ribs and face. This whole time he’d been trying to tune out the incoming sirens because he didn’t want to risk Bucky or any officers being injured while he was the Winter Soldier. He had to end this as soon as possible. Left with no other option, Steve resorted to begging through shortened breadths, prioritizing saving his friend over the limiting air supply keeping him conscious or alive. “Bucky... Please. You have to… remember. You’re my best friend; I’m not -HRGK- giving up on you. I’ll never give up… on you.” Consciousness was quickly becoming a struggle to maintain by this point. “I’m with you… to the end… of the line.”
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Post by Deleted on May 10, 2014 7:31:50 GMT -5
He choked as the other man (because he refused to give him a name, or use the name that kept trying to appear in his mind) pressed his legs against his throat, trying to keep his metal hand firmly gripped on his target's throat. The gears were whining in his arm as the pressure from the man's leg pushed against his arms, trying to force him to let go. Black spots danced in front of his eyes but still he refused to give up. This was his mission. He had to complete it. Failure was not an option. The Soldier reached with his human arm, trying to break the man's hold on him but they were locked tight as they both lay there on the ground. Finally he let go of the man's throat only to swing his metal arm at his face, trying to reach him with a left hook, hoping the force or repetition of the blows would force the man to release his hold on his neck. He tried to ignore the man's words. "You're - my - mission!" he gasped, scowling as his efforts seemed to be in vain and the man only increased pressure on his neck. It was the first time he had come up against someone who matched him and could keep him as bay. The man continued to speak, choking his own words out. The Soldier didn't want to hear the man's words. They didn't matter. His target would be dead soon. He tried to ignore them but the words had their effect. They walked down the street in silence, hands in their pockets. He looked over at his best friend who had just lost his mother to sickness. It had been her funeral that day and now they were headed back to Steve’s house. He would have been put in an orphanage but Bucky’s parents refused to let that happen and had opened their house up to him. Now it was just his turn to try and convince Steve to actually come home with him. They reached Steve's house quickly enough, heading up the stairs towards the front door. "I saw you out there. My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery." "I know, I'm sorry. I kinda just wanted to be alone." "How was it?" "It was okay. She's next to Dad." "I was going to ask - " "I know what you're going to say, Buck, it's just -" "Look, we can put the couch cushions on the floor, just like when we were kids. It'll be fine. All you gotta do is shine my shoes, take out the trash." He stepped over and pushed aside a brick with the toe of his shoe before reaching down and picking up the spare key. He handed it to Steve. "Come on." “Thank you Buck, but I can get by on my own.” “The thing is, you don’t have to. I’m with you to the end of the line, pal.” [/b] He smiled and placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder, squeezing it in affirmation of his words....[/i] The Winter Soldier froze, staring down at the man. No. His name. His name was Steve His…friend? No, tools didn’t have friends. It went against everything his programming had ingrained within him and it made his head hurt. It hurt from the memories and all the images that were suddenly flowing forth as if a dam had opened and released a flood. No. That wasn’t right. This was his mission. That was it. He was starting to lose consciousness from the way Steve’s legs were pressed against his throat but he knew that if he did, they’d take him. The ones that came with the sirens and then he would have failed. No, he had already failed. The sudden urge to flee flowed through his mind and he reached up, grabbing Steve’s legs, the mechanics in his arm screaming as he put every ounce of strength he had to pry apart the other man’s legs. He stumbled backwards, finally free, choking on air as it flowed into his lungs and trying to shake it off. It would take more than that to take him down. He was the Soldier. But Steve had planted the doubt in his mind, the tiny seed that had already started to form from what he had seen earlier beginning to bloom. Staring down at the man on the ground, it was clear his mind was in conflict on what he was supposed to do. Part of him wanted to end it now, to step down hard and end the other’s life, but he couldn’t. He was compromised and he had to be cleaned. He had to stop the pain that pounded in his skull and make all the confusion go away. The sirens were getting louder and he turned to see the police cars rounding the bend. He glanced once more at the man on the ground, only for a moment, his gaze unsure. Then he turned and sprinted for a nearby alley, slipping between the buildings before the cars got any closer, disappearing into the shadows. tag Steve word count [/quote][/b] 1964 notes[/b] </3 lyrics Dance with the Devil by Breaking Benjamin credit Rae of Sunshine! of Caution 2.0 made this temp!
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HERO
The price of freedom is high, and it's a price I'm willing to pay.
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Post by Steven Rogers on May 15, 2014 1:31:31 GMT -5
Steve could see it in Bucky’s eyes. Whatever was playing canasta with his memories was starting to lose its grip and Bucky was in there fighting. Steve continued to take the blows and strangling, fighting to stay awake and see this through. He’d lost and found Bucky once before, he could do it again. And this time he’d make damn sure he kept him. He kept telling himself that he’d never save Buck if he passed out now, and he was sure if he didn’t keep that at the forefront of his mind he’d be out now.
Thankfully, he finally seemed to have gotten through. Bucky released his throat and immediately set about prying Steve’s legs from their hold, which was accomplished quite easily with a combination of the metal arm and Steve’s growing exhaustion. As soon as his body hit the floor, Steve began coughing fits and large gulps of air, while trying to force himself to his feet as fast as possible should Bucky make another attack. But before he could do so, his best friend took off into the night just before the police arrived. Steve had tried to sputter out for Bucky to wait, but between the gasps and coughs he needed a few more moments before he could speak.
Officers arriving on the scene were greeted to an out of breath Steve Rogers, who was quick to flash his Avengers card and explain the entire thing away as a failed attempt on him by an unknown assassin. He was vague on details as he did not want anyone to suspect that Bucky was once again brainwashed.
AUGUST 1941
CAMP LEHIGH
Panting, Steve took a seat next to the young man, and then began guzzling at his water. “Your pretty good, son. And with the proper experience and some extra training, I don’t think there’s a Kraut alive that could take you on.” The teen just smirked at Steve, before returning to the water of his own. They had just finished the sparring match Steve initiated in order to test Bucky’s skills. He knew the kid was good, but he didn’t expect someone to give a super soldier a run for his money. Steve had to get serious at some points and still almost didn’t win. He’d initially had quite a few reservations when he was informed he was getting a sidekick and that he had no say in the matter. But after that match, Steve was convinced that it might not be such a bad thing, after all. He smiled at Bucky, committing to memory this first encounter knowing full well this kid was destined for great things. “You know, I feel like this is the start of something really great, Bucky.”
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