Mission Log 001 | Act Natural

[sidearmed]

WHO: Bucky Barnes + YOU
WHERE: Nonah #001, Nonah & Environs
WHEN: Early January
WHAT: Bucky Barnes arrives
WARNINGS: None yet, will update as needed


Nonah #001 | Closed to Housemates

[ This is not his first rodeo when it comes to abruptly waking up in a cold-ass lab with strangers poking and prodding at him. It is the first time that he's begun by freaking out, automatically reciting name, rank and serial number like they taught him all those decades ago in Basic, and promptly having someone with a genuine-sounding American accent intervene with 'Whoah, whoah, calm down son. You're safe. This is the United States'. But before he can even begin to parse what the hell is going on, someone gives him back his clothing, someone else hands him a File, and then yet another escort is getting him from underground bunker to porter to another city entirely, all while throwing barely adequate explanations in his direction.

It's a damn good thing he's got a near-photographic memory, and he'll have to replay this insane conversation later. When he's busy Not freaking out and remaining outwardly calm, nodding at the appropriate pauses whenever there's a lull in the conversation. Everything is fine, nothing to see, move along. Then the car glides to a stop, the soldier stops talking, and Bucky finds himself on the sidewalk with a set of keys in his gloved hands. There's a townhouse directly in front of him with a matching number on it. He glances around, not bothering to do so casually this time, noting lights and any video surveillance on the street, then squares his shoulders and walks up the stoop to the entrance.

This is probably too weird to be a HYDRA-induced hallucination. Everything feels real. The hostile side-glances at his arm before it was covered up felt real, for sure. So the smart thing to do is continue the charade until he finds out where he is and how the hell he can get home. With that thought firmly settling into the back of his mind, Nonah's newest imPort resident slides his key into the lock, swings open the door of government housing number one and steps inside. ]


Around Town | OPEN

[ One of the first things Bucky does is find a convenience store near the apartment and purchase a couple of maps - one of Nonah and one of North Carolina. Despite the proximity to DC (at least if you squint), it's not an area he's overly familiar with. Not back home, anyway, and definitely not here.

He'll spend the first few days wandering around the area, mapping it out in his head as well as on paper. He buys a backpack and a handful of notebooks with some of the government's funds, stashing three of them under his mattress for safekeeping. The third is kept in the bag, and the fourth - smaller sized - is tucked into a coat pocket. This kind of recon is habit now, and his overall demeanor will be reserved but almost friendly. It's much easier to remember someone in a bad mood and the last thing Bucky wants is to leave a lasting impression. He'll also opt for walking around, or taking a bus, over utilizing the train station. Nothing against you, Nonah, it's just that he's still not that fond of the things. ]


Wildcard | OPEN

[ If you have another idea, please toss it here! Or contact me via pm / kasterborous with any questions or plotting. ]

Comments

Nonah #001

[justlittle]

[ The most out of place thing Bucky will notice about his new home is a rather unusual RV covered in antennae and satellite dishes parked in the driveway. No obvious video surveillance, but it certainly garners some attention. One might not think the vehicle belongs to the house's youngest resident, a precocious and gangly ten year old whose limbs seem too long for his clothing, sitting in the kitchen eating an orange and listening to the news on the radio. And yet, it does.

Bean looks up at the sound of a key turning in a lock. The ensuing footsteps are heavy, so at first Bean thinks it might be Apollo coming home, but then, Apollo had said he wouldn't be back until later when he left the house this morning. So who could it be?

He turns off the radio and steps out into the foyer to investigate, still chewing on a piece of orange. ]

...You're new.

[sidearmed]

[ The RV is definitely unusual. It draws attention to itself rather easily, though, and Bucky might be tempted to describe as 'obnoxious' instead of the more neutral-sounding terminology. Or 'obvious', maybe. Because it's not blending in with the rest of the street's decor at all. But nobody has asked his opinion or read his mind, so it remains unspoken.

What doesn't remain unspoken is his surprise at being confronted by — a kid? Bucky can't peg his actual age, but Bean doesn't appear to have reached teenager status yet, and the assassin automatically frowns at someone of such a tender age group being allowed anywhere near him. ]

I am.

[ Blue eyes dart from Bean to the kitchen archway, and back. Calm, cool, and collected. Except for the eyebrows trying to hike up his forehead. ]

[justlittle]

[ The paint job on Bean's RV wasn't his first choice. But he had bought it off a doomsday prepper in Jeopardy-- ironically, before the actual doomsday event occurred-- and hasn't gotten around to repainting it yet.

Bean eyes the newcomer. He's been around enough soldiers to recognize the way he holds himself, as though he's a weapon, something meant to cause harm. Out of place in this suburban environment.

Conversely enough, it is this which makes Bean decide to trust him. ]

Come on in. I'm Bean. I just moved in, too, but I've been on this Earth for about a year now, if you have any questions.

[sidearmed]

[ There's a reasonably high chance that, if Bean mentions painting, Bucky will volunteer, because wow. It might even be considered a gift to the public. Or everyone in their neighborhood.

Also, he is standing in a perfectly ordinary way. Really. ]

Not sure where I'd start with the questions. [ Aside from 'how the hell do I get out of here'. ] I'm — you can call me Barnes.

@ around town

[lacitsym]

[ The multiverse is something Zatanna is no stranger to by any means, but that doesn't mean she appreciates being unceremoniously dropped in one. After she's had a couple days to get somewhat of her bearings, get in on a ridiculous job, she takes time to explore more.

Which took a really weird turn that led into an magical mini-adventure in the sewer system for a few hours. Don't ask. Just, uh, don't mind (yeah, right) the raven-haired woman dressed in a corset top and fishnets throwing open the sidewalk grating and climbing out, looking rather Done With This Shit And Exhausted. So much for stealth. ]

God— [ She coughs a couple times, nearly starfishing out on the sidewalk. ] — damn it, I hate sewer systems.

[sidearmed]

[ Aliens in America — or other points across the globe — is one thing. Multiverses are something else entirely. A subject that has, until now, remained solely the stuff of pulp fiction, HG Wells, or Jules Verne. Comfortably secure in the safety of a book, not running rampant and kidnapping people into other realities against their will. That said, Bucky has had a day or two to grudgingly accept the reality of this situation.

So a woman crawling out of the sewer isn't the strangest thing he's seen. Even if it is, all things considered, still strange. At least she doesn't seem in need of immediate medical attention. That's a plus, right? ]

I think the only ones who do are sewer rats, [ He says not-so-helpfully, now loitering just a few feet away, then extends a gloved hand. You know, to actually be helpful. ]

[lacitsym]

Well, I think I failed my audition for a sewer rat job. [ Deadpan delivery.She takes his offered hand and pulls herself up, and when she stands, she nods slightly. ]

Thanks. I'm Zatanna, by the way — I'd say my first impressions are usually better, but sometimes... [ Sometimes that's just how it be. ]

[sidearmed]

[ Bucky is smart enough to let go of her hand once Zatanna is properly upright, but not quite smart enough to keep his mouth shut. ]

Zatanna, if the sewer rats looked like you, we'd all be living in the sewers.

[ Which is sorta-kinda his way of saying 'hello and nice to meet you' but in a 1940s way. Ish. ]

nonah 001 | later, after Bucky meets Bean

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo, sunworshipper that he is, doesn't return to the house until late. As per usual, the flyer doesn't bother with the front door when a perfectly good upper floor window exists; he unlatches his bedroom window and lets himself in, squeezing through the frame with the usual under-the-breath cursing that comes with it. And, similarly as per usual, he immediately makes a beeline to his ensuite and throws himself into the shower, going through the motions of the usual post-work routine of returning home after a long day of general heroics. It's a comfortable groove, and strangely calming in its own domestic way: the mundane satisfaction of house life after a day of beating up the weird things in the world.

It isn't until he's out of the shower - white-silver hair wrapped up in a comical towel turban - and dressed in a comfy white tracksuit that he realises he doesn't have the house to himself. There's someone else in the room next door - the room that had been occupied by his dear friend Eve, right up until her sudden disappearance last month. Apollo's heart leaps; he's sure it must be Eve, returned safe and sound from wherever she'd disappeared to... ]

Eve! Hey, you're back! [ Apollo calls joyfully as he crosses the landing in a few long strides and bursts into the bedroom, nearly losing his hair turban as he pulls himself up short at the not-Eve person occupying the room. ]

Ah. You're - [ Apollo's expression falls a fraction, dipping briefly into disappointment, but he gamely recovers. ] - Definitely not Eve.

[ God, is it that time of the month again? Newcomers seem to come in the first week or so, without fail, but the date had slipped his mind. He summons a smile, despite the fact that he really had hoped it was Eve returning to their little group. He steadies his turban with one hand, nudging it back from where it was threatening to slip off, then retreats a little, taking a step backwards so that he's more in the corridor than in the stranger's room. Eve might have extended him the courtesy of wandering in without notice, but this new guy doesn't like quite as bubbly as his predecessor. ]

Sorry. I thought - I thought you were someone else...

[ Obviously. Apollo grimaces, then waves a hand with a laugh at his own stupidity. ]

God - let's start again. Hi.

[sidearmed]

[ Doors. The bane of flying superheroes everywhere. Also the bane of everyone who may or may not have hypervigilance tendencies. He's chosen this room because it is a. upstairs and b. empty. There'd been no sign of another occupant, and it's away from a direct line-of-sight with the front door, which is the more important consideration. Bucky doesn't have much in the way of personal possessions yet, so the most he's done is putter around the layout memorizing exits and entrances and how many steps on the staircase.

The only other co-inhabitant he's met is Bean, and the tread across the floor in the neighboring bedroom is not that of a child. Bucky stops breathing for a few seconds, wondering if this is a home invasion, at least until the shower turns on. And then he abruptly does let out a huff. No self-respecting burglar would risk getting caught by cleaning up, right? Even one living in this weird, Wonderland-meets-Orwell world.

He opts to wait and see what happens, spending a few minutes stripping the bed of a blanket and pillow to conveniently tuck on the floor against the opposing wall. It's not the best set up for a good night's sleep, but attackers normally go for the bed first, and Bucky not not sleeping there will give him a few extra seconds to defend himself.

And speaking of attackers — he's just pushing up from a kneeling position when Apollo bounds in. The assassin freezes, except for his flesh hand searching in vain for something sharp and pointy, and stares in consternation at the other man. It's hard to hear for a moment, what with the blood rushing through his ears and mental alarms going DEF CON, but eventually he manages a nod. ]

I can see that. [ And maybe his voice is a little too raspy. But fuck it, he's been startled. As seconds tick by with no other outward indication of violence, Bucky's shoulders ease out of their tense positions, although he's still wary. ] Hi.

around

[adamantlyardent]

Get off me! Are you deranged?! Hello!

[Cecelia raises her voice with this protest, getting very distressed. she's told these crude boys to kick rocks no less than a dozen times since they'd started following her around, but it seems her polite and meek refusals only emboldened them to persist to the point of one draping his arm around her shoulder.

while she's pushing that one away from her, another snatches at her purse to pull her attention away. she squeaks with outrage, whirling around, which gives the first offender the opportunity to grab at a wrist without her say-so.

her hair seems to puff up a bit with her alarm, as a bit of static courses through and out of her.]

Stop it! Let me go!

[sidearmed]

[ Oh. That yelling. It is the siren song of his youth — a half-remembered patchwork of alleys and bruised knuckles. His feet take him automatically in the direction of the argument, whether or not he consciously wants to go. And the scene greeting him is all too familiar.

It's tempting to stand his ground, give the guys a warning. That's what a hero does. But Bucky isn't a hero, no matter what the military or suits say. He's not. So instead of issuing a warning, he just strides into the fray and aims a gloved hand for the first offender's neck. ]

Hands off my sister.

[ His voice is quiet, almost silky. And, yeah, that was kind of a warning. Deal with it. ]

[adamantlyardent]

[that sort of abrupt appearance frightens more than just the guy directly called off. Cecelia squeaks and stifles another outcry, freezing up and trying to shy away, still tugging at her captive purse. easier to do when her wrist is freed, and she wrenches the bag away and hugs it tightly to herself while some of the boys scoff defensively and suspicion.

they don't look at all alike, after all. and she's an imPort, besides! realizing that much seems to give them back their bravado as they start to posture again.]

[sidearmed]

[ Oops. Scaring the victim is the last thing he wants to do, but there isn't much he can do to allay any of her fears. Besides, the hooligans haven't really backed off yet, so he remains where he is — shoulders squared and feet planted firmly against the ground. He's ready to rumble if they are, but he's really hoping the tough talk is just talk.

If Cecilia is paying attention, though, he waves his right hand toward her in a 'get behind me' gesture.]

{Broken rhythms » Nonah » 1/6

[deadlycurves]

Diego is decidedly not in a great mood, and hasn't been for days at this point. The very second he started inching toward feeling anything remotely like settled in this place, everything tipped and he was reminded that regardless of the universe he may find himself in, he's a Hargreeves, and Hargreeves don't get nice things. And if they get them, they never keep them; it's an unwritten multiunversal law, apparently.

He's taken to running whenever he has a chance, more than his usual schedule of running, just to not sit around and think of more reasons to hate this place. Losing people is something he's growing incredibly tired of, and he would really like to not think about it, thanks.

He's fallen into a rhythm, losing himself to the act of it and not really present in his own head at all-- it's not something easy to come by for him and it's nice.

Until he has to suddenly stop short at risk of collision with a guy wandering out of a shop with maps in his hand. The guy is clearly new, Diego notes that the maps and other info-packets he has are on the city of Nonah and surrounding areas.

Mostly, he's just annoyed at the near-collusion, and the rhythm being broken, which is probably obvious by the silent, half-sneer he gives the guy.

[sidearmed]

He stops, though. Or at least slows down enough not to barrel into Bucky. Which the other man greatly appreciates — both for not getting run into, and not having to do something like step out of the way miraculously. There's a reason he's concealed the imPort tattoo and it's not just because wearing one glove around looks dumb.

But, hey, have a sneer in return. And then a salute, because apparently there's some little demon in his head that sounds like Steve. 'Gonna let him get away with that?'

"Thanks for missing." This is definitely Steve's influence.

Around Town - 1/10

[privatepurchases]

[Gabriel is walking his jackalope.

Okay, well. He's trying to, but for all that Violet is obedient the creature is still a prey-predator animal and the archangel can deny him nothing. So he attempted to teach the creature to walk on a leash and a number of humans gave him strange looks but now the jackalope is happily munching on grass and not looking at anything in particular.

To which the archangel, in a very fine gray coat with a light tie with little moons on it (one of the better ones- to whoever has been messing with his ties) is kneeling to talk to the creature like a human being.]

I don't like putting you on a leash Violet. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to be sad. I'm commanded not to, but I'd like for you to walk with me if you're so inclined.

[the jackalope stares at him.]

...You are by default a sinless creature, and I don't want to punish you so I'm asking you to follow me. Please?

[munch.

munch.

Gabriel sighs and closes his eyes tightly before straightening, one hand in his pockets.]

Fine.

We will wait.

[sidearmed]

[ The first thing that he notices is the bunny. Not many men in suits get down on the same level as a rabbit and talk to them. The second thing he notices is the horns — which, okay. That is not a bunny? Or it's a deer-bunny. Possibly something native to this world? Bucky doesn't know, but it's strange and out of place in his experience (even with all the weirdness) so he slows his meander to a stop.

And listens. ]

I'm not sure you can leash-train a rabbit, like dogs. [ Is how he politely barges into the one-sided conversation between the archangel and furry mammal. ] They kind of like to wander on their own.

[ At least from what he remembers via observation on some very dull past missions. ]

Violet's a pretty name though.

[privatepurchases]

...You can't?

[Hmm. He had a book on leash training but come to think of it there had been no mention of rabbits. Violet for his part looks up and tilts his head at the new comer before hopping in his direction. The horns are large and polished to a bright sheen before the man stands.]

I don't like putting things on a leash as a general rule. Violet is as sinless as a creature can get but if you're saying she can't then that makes sense.

[Considering the creature he snaps his fingers and Violet rises on his hind legs to stare up at Bucky before inclining his head.]

He takes to training rather well though. Do you know rabbits?

Nonah #001 (Not a housemate but boyfriends get privileges)

[heliophilic]

[At some point in the day, a golden rectangle appears in the middle of the living room. A strange occurrence, perhaps, except this is how this particular weirdo gets around, and when ones boyfriend has lived here a while, things like common courtesy go out the window. Or maybe he never had any to begin with. Who knows.

It isn't long after before M steps out of it, as he has hundreds of times before. Only this time was different. This time, his implants were metaphorically screaming at him that something was different. Not dangerous per se, but it didn't have quite enough information to determine what that "different" was. The joys of having a probability calculator versus true precognition.

Thankfully for both M and implants, a short search uncovers what exactly was different about his boyfriend's townhouse. There was a new roommate. Unfortunately for the implants, it hasn't quite decided if they were dangerous. Unfortunately for M, he had a sinking suspicion he'd already met someone just like him once before.]

You must be new.

[sidearmed]

[ He finally has the ground level to himself, for however long that lasts. The entire building has been given a cursory search, backyard has briefly checked out (with an eye towards jury-rigging some alarms at a later date), and he's allowed himself to believe that this isn't a HYDRA trick. This might be some other entity's mind trip. Which will be dealt with when — not if — something goes wrong. Because it always does.

Partially to test his acknowledged residency — and because he's a little hungry — Bucky plucks a bowl from one of the cabinets, pours in milk and some bland cereal, then takes a stroll into the living room. Only to find out the place isn't as empty as he thought, his saunter dying instantly into the kind of motionless body language that signals either harmlessness or the complete opposite to those with acquired fluency. ]

Yes. [ Quiet, blunt, probably not that helpful. ] Live here?

[heliophilic]

[M stares from the bowl, to a familiar metal arm, up to the man's (admittedly not as familiar) face. He sure as hell doesn't want a fight... especially when it would more than likely end up with a lecture about respecting people's abodes from a certain sun god.]

My boyfriend does. Apollo.

[He gives directions to Apollo's room upstairs.]

The others have gotten used to me just appearing like this. A pause. The upside is that I don't tend to stay long.

around town // 01-10

[bifroster]

[Jane will admit that when it comes to some aspects of science, her methods are inelegant and her tools could probably use some polish. However, when faced with that kind of criticism, she asks which is easier: spending hours reworking code or just banging something against a table?

The people around her as she walks down the sidewalk give her odd looks. To be expected, of course, when someone is muttering about calibrations to themselves, not really paying attention to where they are going, and bang a weird instrument against a light pole. They have never seen her before, but clearly, she is either nuts or an imPort.]

Come on, you were working just fine!

[The machine starts beeping at her.]

Oh, do not give me that!

[sidearmed]

[ One would assume that banging most things against a table is the easier option. It doesn't mean that's always the right option, considering some things are delicate. Jane's things are probably delicate in that scientific way. He remembers some of Howard Stark's experiments - and whatever thingamajig is currently being cradled in her hands is fairly evocative of that. ]

Does yelling and banging really work?

[ Look, it is practically required of him to ask. And not just because the gadget looks interesting. Although she might not appreciate questions from a strange but reasonably dressed hobo. ]

[bifroster]

[Jane doesn't look up, given that people have asked her that question dozens of times before. She frowns and messes with the controls in a seemingly random way, but is actually ruling out possibilities for the errors as she goes.]

Until I can get a soldering iron, yeah. It's going to have to.

[The machine is not that delicate, but it does protest at the abuse, showing readings that are still off the chart.]