Entry tags:
Luceti | Appointments
This post is intended for anything that one could want to RP with Eugene. Nothing fancy here, just a date, type, and place where you'd like to meet up with him and we'll go from there. The only limit here is the imagination.
Stay safe out there!
Stay safe out there!
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Smart man. See, this is why you're still around and kicking. No thanks to some helpful muscle mass as well, I mean. So... is everyone around here a massive overachiever or are me and Jack just your underachievers? Inquiring minds want to know~
[Moving to one of the coffee machines he switched it on and checked levels, making sure ingredients were where they were needed and that they were in good working order]
So you're the creative genius behind the name of this place, then? Shot in the dark. I wouldn't mind... having some training in sniping, if I might be so bold to ask. Always can do with more learning how to defend oneself...
[Just in case the zombie apocalypse repeated itself and he needed to be way more effective than with just a steel pipe]
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When I met you, you and Jack were out driving around a war zone helping people. You'd call that kinda thing is underachieving? Because most people call it something else.
[He turned so he could face Woods, arms braced against the counter top.]
Tasha's the only genius around here. The name was her idea too. [He inclined his head.] Not that I don't like having my ego stroked, but all this flattery is gonna make me blush, so save it for your fella, huh? [Bucky gave him an easy grin.] I'll teach you whatever you want. All you've gotta do is ask.
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I have to practice somewhere before I can throw these flattering statements at Jack. But sniping, yeah. Something to help protect the people I care about. Probably way more effective than throwing scalding coffee in their faces. All things considered.
[He busied himself with making a proper brew, holding it out to Mr Barnes with a soft smile]
Show me how to snipe?
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[His gaze dropped briefly when Woods talked about protecting loved ones. He hadn't felt like that was something he could do since that first draft, since he'd killed Steve. He knew it wasn't really Steve by that point. He even knew he had protected him, countless times before and after. Maybe even then. But today wasn't the day his heart would fall in line with his head.
At the least, he knew his skills were useful, and the more people who had them, the better.
He took the mug from Woods with a shake of his head. He could see what Jack saw in the guy - he definitely had charm to spare.]
When you ask like that how's a guy supposed to say no? [He took a sip, and then another less than a beat after - the coffee was pretty good.] The bribe doesn't hurt either.
Let me know when you're ready. I'm at the battle dome almost every day.
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[Pleased that his coffee craftsmanship was a hit, he carried on without any fanfare. There was a certain tension he noticed in Mr Barnes, something that he recognized in the faces of a lot of others. Survivor's guilt? He couldn't presume to know, that sort of thing... it was personal.]
The thing is you're not supposed to say no. That's why I ask that way. Get what I want. Anyway, what's she got you doing here? Security? Bouncer service? Eye candy?
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[He hid a grin behind his mug, lest Woods get the impression that he actually liked that type or anything. The last thing he needed was another pair of doe eyes aimed at him.
Still, he watched Woods work, curious, if nothing else.]
Honestly? Stayin' outa' trouble until my hand heals up. [He set the mug down so he could prop his chin up on his fist.] Don't think she really needs me here, but it's something to do. [He shrugs.] And anyway, who knows what you'd get up to without supervision. The charming ones are always troublemakers.
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[but you didn't just accept coffee and pastries from a guy you didn't trust. He could have easily poisoned any of that-- but it wasn't in his nature to. This is where he was making his own coffee, testing the machines and his own judgments as to how much or how little needed to be applied to produce different effects]
What happened to your hand?
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[It's not a lie, exactly. He says it with another easy shrug.] Don't worry, if you mess up any of Natasha's nice equipment you'll still get spanked.
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Sounds... painful. The accident, not the spa-- oh.
[He did that semi-on purpose. But then he spotted the toaster and oh, his options for culinary prep just went up exponentially]
Sharing the blame is caring, anyway. So, now that we're not being shot at or ferrying you back and forth from the front line-- what's your story? And since we're going to be working together I'd like to at least be in on some secrets. If there are any.
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He doesn't have the chance to explain when Eugene changes the topic, so he just shrugs and goes along with it. Not a problem.]
You weren't kidding about the journalist bit. But I suppose you did get me breakfast.
Not much to tell, though. My parents passed when I was a kid. Met Steve Rogers fighting some punks twice his size in some back alley in Brooklyn, and the two of us bein' orphans... We ended up each other's family. [He wraps his good hand around the mug again. A small, wry smile touches his lips.] He was gonna be an artist. Has a real talent for it. I was - well, probably making time with every pretty girl in the city.
The war seemed pretty far away, till the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. [He raises his gaze to Woods.] That still happen in your history?
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When spoken to, however, he answered easily enough, nodding in the affirmative while he sipped his coffee]
Yeah, that war's pretty romanticized by novels and movies, now. Lots of war stories, but the history is true. What's... where were you taken from in your world? Was the war over?
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[He takes a swallow of his coffee.]
So what about you? Just a poor journalist dragged into Wonderland?
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[Sitting up a little straighter he made a considering look, drumming his fingers thoughtfully along the mug. Truthfully, Barnes might appreciate thinking the world was wonderful, but he was also a keen observer. Anything he might try to get past the man would drive a wedge between them.]
A poor journalist dragged into Wonderland is pretty accurate. But Luceti really is a step up in the world. You could say there's a war going on, another world-scale type, in my time. The grey plague approaches, zombies at my neighbors-- I saw those headlines. I wish they were in the tabloids.
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[Until he became a soviet assassin apparently, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. If he ever had to.
And anyway, he was more curious about Woods' world. As much as he might admire what Woods and Holden had done during the draft, that wasn't the way straight-up civilians behaved for the most part.
The reaction to the word 'zombies' is intimidate and visceral, his fingers tightening against the mug in such a quick motion he's lucky it doesn't crack. He sets it back down, and sits up a little straighter himself, shoulders square.
He wants to think that Woods is joking, but he doubts it.]
Zombies? Are you serious? I don't envy you, buddy. The first draft I went on here, they nearly bombed the enclosure to stop the infection, and that was after everything went straight to hell. How the hell did you make out with a whole world full of 'em?
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I wish I were, the idea seems so far-off from reality. But it is out reality. Listen-- don't tell folks about it. Jack and I prefer to keep it under wraps.
[Mostly, they wanted to be as far away from that reality as possible without losing who they were. If he knew more about Bucky, perhaps he wouldn't even need to ask for the discretion, but they had time to get to know each other yet]
We live in a township called Abel-- it's really just a farmhouse with some really reinforced walls. But we call it home, and it keeps the zoms out.
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[He understood, in a way. He talked around the actual war whenever possible, and even he had been dealing with people - crazy, occasionally superpowered people, but still people - not something as horrible as what he'd seen out at that enclosure, on a global scale.]
Never thought I'd say this to anyone else around here, so don't take it the wrong way but - on the off chance someone gets a way home worked out, I hope you guys can stick around. [He gives Eugene a wry smile.] It'll be nice to have some company.
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I'm afraid you're stuck with us, Mr Barnes. Whether you like it or not. Even if there was a chance to go home, going back is... It's not really living. It's just surviving. Every day a constant reminder of just how quickly our social standards can be shattered.
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Hundreds, maybe thousands of different universes out there, he supposes it makes sense that the world really ended in one of them. It's not a nice thing to think about, good people like Jack and Eugene just surviving, day after day.]
Like I said, I'll be glad for the company. [He leans over the counter to clasp Eugene's upper arm briefly.] And you know, if you ever wanna talk... I think it's safe to say we've both been in some pretty bad places.
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[Which might explain the slightly codependent relationship he had on Jack. Through thick, thin, unsure, desperate, and dangerous times. But the grip on his arm was nice and reassuring and he couldn't help but grin to know that there was at least a commonality between them that extended beyond coworkers in Natasha's coffee shop.
It also helped he was cute.
So, now that we've established we'll be good friends for a nice long time-- can I call you Jim? Or... anything but Mr Barnes? You can call me Gene if you want, Jack does.
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[His eyes are bright with good humor, taking any edge off the weight of his tone. He wouldn't actually deck Eugene for it, but he really does hate being called Jim.]
So Gene, huh? Is that all he calls you? Or just in public? [He raises his eyebrows, teasing, since it's just the two of them.]
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And only in public, I'm not telling you what he calls me out of the public eye. You couldn't handle it, my good friend.
[Especially not since 'luv' was on the lower end of the naughty scale and a hell of a lot higher on the adorable one. Or at least the kind to have them both acting awkward]
If I told you I'd have to kill you, and all that.
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He considers changing the topic, but he's actually having a pretty good time flirting with Eugene, and seeing as how they're both attached, it's harmless fun. And, okay, maybe he gets a bit of a kick out of it. Flirting with other guys in public isn't exactly what he'd have considered 'harmless' back home.]
If you told me, you'd have to try. [Bucky smirks at him.] And I think between the two of us, I'd come out on top.
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[Hiking and camping and the occasional hockey tournament was the most exertion Eugene had ever given voluntarily. The zombie apocalypse had improved his cardio for a time, but without a leg for near on two years, that went pretty fast.]
But... Nah, we really aren't as kinky as people might like to think we are. ...Speaking of things to discuss between friends, though. Would you mind sort of, I mean, unless they already planned for one with that infamous zombie invasion prior to our arrival, helping us develop a cohesive plan in case that happens again?
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[There was more to a fight than what you can do head-on - and thank God for that, because if it wasn't true, he'd have died a lot sooner.
He lets Eugene change the topic, and his brow furrows briefly at the question, but he nods.]
Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Some of the brains here worked out a vaccine for the virus that went through Kin'cora - the enclosure that got hit - but if something like that could happen over there, it could happen anywhere.
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Kin'cora? Is it still functioning now? I admit some morbid curiosity but just because I'd like to know there's no... threat.
[Not that there was much more could be done. And he was understandably skeptical of any 'vaccines' developed. They'd been developed as a countermeasure back home but their efficacy was... of questionable value.]
Did the vaccine work? Or did it prevent the infected from turning?
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