Bucky Barnes ☆ 32557038 (
tookthewheel) wrote in
thearena2014-09-11 06:14 pm
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Entry tags:
Take me down to the river bend [Open]
Who| MCU!Bucky, Elsa and Anna, MCU!Bucky and the Signless, MCU!Bucky and OTA
What| Bucky getting his murder on and also roaming the mall, come say hi
Where| The Marvel store, Centurion Cineplex and other various locations
When| First half of week 3
Warnings/Notes| Violence, death, Bucky's issues
Prompt A: The Marvel Store
The Marvel store has become his home base. Bucky spends every night here, bar something unexpected forcing him to seek shelter elsewhere. He varies his time between resting, pondering over the curious merchandise or taking care of his numerous collection of weaponry, cleaning the knives and gun in a routine that has proven a reliable way to settle his mind, especially in the long inactive hours of the night when sleep often eludes him.
Mostly Bucky chooses to stay in the part of the store dedicated to Captain America though he can be found wandering through other sections. Sometimes, through morbid fascination, he moves to the merchandise dedicated to him, which represents both his past and his current reality. Blue jackets, an old fashioned snipe rifle, stretchy sleeves of ridged silver material emblazoned with a red star and replicas of the black muzzle and goggles he wore as the Winter Soldier can be found here amongst other objects.
Prompt B: Through the mall, specify your own location
Almost every day Bucky leaves the shelter of the Marvel store and ventures out in the mall, patrolling down the levels and then back upwards again. He never does the same route twice and varies the times he visits certain locations, including what part of the day he'll venture into the food court to stuff supplies in a bag to take back upstairs to his allies, in case someone is watching out for him.
He can be encountered anywhere from the locker room on the ground floor to tribute personalised stores on the third. The only place he may avoid is the bookstore, only passing by the outside because even though he and the other Bucky destroyed all their biographies (so he thinks), the place makes him too uncomfortable to venture back inside when he has the choice not to.
What| Bucky getting his murder on and also roaming the mall, come say hi
Where| The Marvel store, Centurion Cineplex and other various locations
When| First half of week 3
Warnings/Notes| Violence, death, Bucky's issues
Prompt A: The Marvel Store
The Marvel store has become his home base. Bucky spends every night here, bar something unexpected forcing him to seek shelter elsewhere. He varies his time between resting, pondering over the curious merchandise or taking care of his numerous collection of weaponry, cleaning the knives and gun in a routine that has proven a reliable way to settle his mind, especially in the long inactive hours of the night when sleep often eludes him.
Mostly Bucky chooses to stay in the part of the store dedicated to Captain America though he can be found wandering through other sections. Sometimes, through morbid fascination, he moves to the merchandise dedicated to him, which represents both his past and his current reality. Blue jackets, an old fashioned snipe rifle, stretchy sleeves of ridged silver material emblazoned with a red star and replicas of the black muzzle and goggles he wore as the Winter Soldier can be found here amongst other objects.
Prompt B: Through the mall, specify your own location
Almost every day Bucky leaves the shelter of the Marvel store and ventures out in the mall, patrolling down the levels and then back upwards again. He never does the same route twice and varies the times he visits certain locations, including what part of the day he'll venture into the food court to stuff supplies in a bag to take back upstairs to his allies, in case someone is watching out for him.
He can be encountered anywhere from the locker room on the ground floor to tribute personalised stores on the third. The only place he may avoid is the bookstore, only passing by the outside because even though he and the other Bucky destroyed all their biographies (so he thinks), the place makes him too uncomfortable to venture back inside when he has the choice not to.
Closed to Elsa/Anna
He wakes up to the Mission beating against the inside of his head, a steady pulsing that breaks his normal routine. This is the fourth week of the arena and he has been lax in his duty, in accomplishing that which he is meant to do. It cannot continue.
When the asset opens his eyes he is a hunter slipping out of his headout as soon as the shutters roll up and the lights come on. Knives are hidden everywhere in his clothing, a coiled loop of fishing line sits in one pocket but it is the carbine that is his first weapon of choice to utilise this day. He uses his rope slip down onto the second floor, ghosting towards a good sniping point he had discovered on an earlier venture and concealing himself as well as he could.
Here he has a good vantage point to aim around, below and above him, he only has to wait for a target to make itself known. Being a sniper in both his past and current lives that means he is prepared to wait a very long time indeed.
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Unfortunately, Anna isn't exactly looking up as they pass through the open space, so she doesn't spy the soldier waiting above them, aiming to pick off the next target he finds.
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And because she's the more cautious and observant, as they move she's slowly looking all around to make sure they aren't in any danger. When something glints out the corner of her eye, she's quick to look that way. It takes only a second to realize that it's a gun, that someone is holding the gun and- and pointing it not at her, but at her sister.
"Anna!" she shouts, her expression one of horror, before she's slamming into Anna in order to push her out of the way.
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He settles further into his alcove, making his grip on the carbine more comfortable, human finger poised on the trigger. A carbine is not a gun made for sniping, it's range is limited as is it's accuracy, in hands less skilled than his it would be doubly difficult to do what he intends.
The Soldier is above and beyond an expert and he sets his sights on the first woman to come into view, the redheaded one and shifts the barrel, wanting a clear headshot. A slow deep breath...
He pulls the trigger, just as the blonde woman spots his presence an cries out in alarm, pushing the intended target out of the way. A clean headshot was meant for the first woman, for the second pushing her out of the way the changed angle and position (and a difference in height) likely meant the bullet would not hit so perfectly.
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"No," she gasps, "no, no, no, Elsa." The younger sister sinks to her knees, covering her mouth in horror as she realizes what's happened.
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Until the pain registers, and she realizes that she hadn't just pushed Anna out of the way. She'd taken the bullet intended for her. There's an intense, mind-numbing pain where the bullet entered her back, and her face contorts in pain.
At least Anna is safe. That's one thought that rings loudly in her mind. But then she realizes that he's probably still up there, and with a great effort Elsa pushes herself up on her elbows, crying out in pain as she does so.
"A-Anna- run..." Her voice is a pained, desperate whisper. "Please."
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His gaze flashes to the initial Target again but there is now a limited timeframe to work with. No silencer was available to him, meaning his single shot will have been heard through the mall. It's reasonable to assess that other tributes will come to investigate what happened in short time.
He needs to move.
Springing up from his hiding place the Soldier fires again at the two and doesn't wait to see if the shot injures, kills or misses completely as he takes off across the upper floor, in seconds out of sight of the two women.
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Closed to The Signless
With his ensemble of dark clothing he blends into every shadowy theatre space, prowling through rows of seats and completely ignoring whatever is playing on the screen as he does.
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He now knows more about human reproduction than he ever wanted to, and he's gotten so good at tuning out the sound of the showing that it takes him a few moments to register the nearby footsteps. Crap. The assessment is a pretty grim one: he's weak and tired, with one arm bandaged, unusable, and a ticking timebomb for infection. Even if he were healthy he couldn't -- wouldn't -- fight, and the only exit would require running past whoever is in here with him. That didn't go too well last time he tried it.
Maybe if he can just very slowy, quietly scoot around the outside wall of the theater and around to the exit, he can get out while this person is still preoccupied searching the seats. It's worth a shot... he just hopes the darkness will mask his movement, even with the bright white cotton bandages and the sequins on his skating outfit reflecting the light from the screen.
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Before he even turns towards it the Soldier pulls out one of his hunting knives and hurls it where the other is lurking with his right hand. A second later and he's pivoted to face the target and charging forwards, too experienced to assume the first attack will have done the job. It was more to throw whoever it was off balance and give him an easier opening in the follow up.
The carbine stays on his back this time as he pulls a serrated blade from his belt in anticipation of the kill.
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This is probably it. He is probably going to die. He is going to die to the sounds of someone clinically explaining the miracle of human childbirth. He cant decide if it's a good thing that he lasted this long or a bad thing he lasted long enough for this to be how it ends.
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Anticipation of a successful operation tugs on decades of well planted mental conditioning, the urge and need to carry out the mission, to do as he was told and please his commanders. In the past months some of that programming has begun to break down, however it's too strongly embedded in his mind to ignore for long, especially in the arena when the objective is clear and obvious.
His headlong rush closes the distance between them in seconds and the Soldier slashes at the targets face with the knife in his right hand, following that strike up with the metal of his left fist aimed at the others chest.
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Prompt A
He wanders through the mall, searching for Venus, or Shepard, or someone friendly who won't mind if he just collapses for a while, but it's difficult to search when you know you may come across someone significantly less friendly.
At last he picks a store at random, curls up under a rack of brightly colored capes, and gets out his current sewing project from his bag. It's something to do. Kurloz's doll is mostly finished now. Morbid, perhaps, but he'd gotten so used to huddling together in the pile these past weeks that he hopes the doll will bring him some comfort.
He cries a little as he pushes the needle through the fabric, but does his best to keep the noise down, not wanting to attract attention. One of the worst parts of the Arenas is that there's so much time and yet there's no time to mourn without careful preparation.
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There are numerous pieces of merchandise in here which declare that.
So when he walks through here he is slightly more relaxed than he might be anywhere else in the arena, less keyed towards immediate aggression when he stumbles across a stranger hiding underneath a rack of bright fabric (OWN YOU OWN MIGHTY THOR CAPE). The sound that draws Bucky over is soft and distressed and he settles a safe distance back before crouching down to look at the origin of it.
"Who are you?"
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"I'm Kankri," he says after a moment. "Kankri Vantas. I-I didn't know anyone was here, I just wanted to go somewhere not so...so open, for a bit."
He stuffs the unfinished doll in his bag and tries to dash the pinkish tears from his eyes, quiet for a few moments. Then, not meeting Bucky's eyes, he murmurs, "Are you going to kill me?" Because nothing about the man looks particularly friendly, but he's just...sitting there, watching. Kankri isn't sure what to make of it.
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A catlike tilt of his head accompanies this thought as he continues to gauge the person, Kankri, in front of him, thinking over the question he is asked. He could easily, maybe he should to get another tribute out of the way. Curiously though he finds he does not actually want to and decides further to allow himself to follow that desire.
It also occurs to him the others might not be pleased if he killed in here without need and Kankri did not seem to mean harm. Yet.
"Only if you attack."
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He regards Bucky curiously, relaxing slightly now that he has something of a reprieve.
"Who are you? I haven't seen you before." Not that that's a surprise, when he's been mostly holing himself up since his second Arena. "May I ask why you're here?"
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He rocks back lightly on his heels, perfectly balanced as he regards the creature before him. What Kankri is (beyond not human) he doesn't know, nor is he concerned enough to ask. "James Buchanan Barnes." he pauses, then adds, "Bucky."
The second question he debates over for a moment, May I ask seems a strange turn of phrase to him for the question is asked regardless. He decides there is no risk in answering, "I stay here."
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B-dah
Here, he had a weapon of his very own creation. A blaster that was nearly as tall as himself, bulky on all sides, clearly made from pieces. But at least it unleased a blast of concentrated electricity that would at least be enough to stop his opponent where they stood so he could come in closer for the kill. In theory, anyway.
Which is what brings Rocket to camp out in some fake plant in the middle of the mall, scanning the area for someone who would make a good target. And while Rocket wouldn't say he believes in fate or destiny, the moment he saw the guy sporting the shiny metal arm, he knew what had to be done.
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Beyond that, outside the arena there was his high score from the gamemakers and his previous arena's performance for the longer residing tributes to consider.
He is now, in any way, shape or form expecting danger to come from a fake plant, unaware there are any tributes small enough to conceal themselves in such a hiding place. His ears and eyes are sharp though, always aware for even the smallest slip to announce another's presence as he draws closer to Rocket's hiding spot.
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Rocket draws in a careful breath as the man comes right into his kill range, steadying his hands so that nothing could mess him up. Aiming right for this one's head, he lined up his shot... and pulled the trigger.
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One of the support pillars for the upper floor is nearby and after he comes up out of the roll Bucky makes a run for it, the coolness of the Soldier's training coming over it to duck behind and pull the carbine up and ready into his hands. Once safely behind the cover of the pillar he'll round it to take a shot back at the fake plant the electricity originated from.
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Only an idiot would stay put, though, and he's no idiot. The instant he has his next shot ready, he's diving away from his hiding spot and moving swiftly toward the pillar opposite that of his target. Without the element of surprise Rocket's finding himself at a slight disadvantage... But it's still nothing he's ever dealt with before. When you're wanted by the Nova Corps, staying out of reach is always the name of the game.
He draws in a breath as he watches the plant he'd hid in get gunned down. A second shot from his blaster is one shot too many, so he instead reaches into the makeshift pouch at his waist to pull out an electric grenade of his own making and send it rolling toward his target's new hiding place. With any luck, this will have the guy stunned long enough for Rocket to go in for the kill.
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Bucky's fairly certain he recognises the creature that just exited the fake plant and ran to the pillar opposite his own. He's also fairly certain that such a creature is not supposed to be capable of wielding sophisticated weaponry, nor given to wearing clothing. He thinks rooting round garbage cans is more usual, he thinks, he can't recall seeing a raccoon before even though he knows what one is.
It's hard not to notice a grenade being rolled his way, even if he weren't someone as well trained as the Soldier. He counts the time automatically as it comes toward him, tracking if he'd have time to throw it back and coming up negative for a standard grenade countdown delay.
So he does something else and shoots it before it can get too close to him, having no way of knowing the grenade is electrical rather than a traditional explosive.
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