st_oneswidow (
st_oneswidow) wrote in
strangetrip2018-09-01 12:00 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
[GP/EP] Check-in Day
The woodwinds in her collection were for noodling mostly, and the violin was for memory of her family, but when Curnen really wanted to play she turned again and again to her guitar. This would probably always be her best instrument. It was the first of the month, she’d been here over a year, and it was probably a check-in day. So she sat on the lawn with her instrument in her lap, sending out a subtle magic to call anyone stranded in their little world this way.
At one point, though, she set aside the guitar and turned her face to the sky. For just a few minutes she required a different kind of magic.
It had been a week now since Scanlan had vanished in the battle. And Pike, too, though Curnen honestly couldn’t have cared less about her going away if she tried. Still. The two of them were family to people very dear to her, people who missed them. And Scanlan had been her friend. You marked something like that with a song.
Of all the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all
It was a traditional Irish goodbye, a farewell to friends said with love, drinking, well wishes, and the hope of meeting again. She couldn’t think of a better one for the occasion. And as she sang she twined her magic into her voice in a new way, sending the song to any ears that needed it, ears of those who knew and missed the departed. Not all of them might understand it, not all of them knew what she was, but she didn’t particularly care about that right now. The song was more important than the hiding.
Once the last note had dissipated she picked up her guitar again and resumed her work. If there were anybody out there, they had to know where to go.
At one point, though, she set aside the guitar and turned her face to the sky. For just a few minutes she required a different kind of magic.
It had been a week now since Scanlan had vanished in the battle. And Pike, too, though Curnen honestly couldn’t have cared less about her going away if she tried. Still. The two of them were family to people very dear to her, people who missed them. And Scanlan had been her friend. You marked something like that with a song.
Of all the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all
It was a traditional Irish goodbye, a farewell to friends said with love, drinking, well wishes, and the hope of meeting again. She couldn’t think of a better one for the occasion. And as she sang she twined her magic into her voice in a new way, sending the song to any ears that needed it, ears of those who knew and missed the departed. Not all of them might understand it, not all of them knew what she was, but she didn’t particularly care about that right now. The song was more important than the hiding.
Once the last note had dissipated she picked up her guitar again and resumed her work. If there were anybody out there, they had to know where to go.
no subject
"Scared of the truth? You don't get a pass." The assassin was trying to make requests now? "I didn't get a pass. Not from a first-class seat view of my parents' 'car crash.'"
Tony didn't get a pass from the truth of their deaths. He didn't even get a pass from the truth of his own. Trying to make peace with those facts, now he had to do it in the company of the man who slaughtered his family and whom Steve Rogers turned his back on him for? It was beyond cruel.
'For both of you.'
Tony grit his teeth.
That niggling voice would just not shut up. His arm was minutely trembling with the weight of it all.
no subject
His eyes narrowed, staring at Tony, watching the tremble in his arm. "I don't do that anymore," he stated a little more firmly. He didn't want to have a fight here. And yet, it always seemed to end in a fight, didn't it. His shoulders tensed, he wondered how long Tony would be before he'd have to put his arm down. Soon, it would be too heavy. Soon, he'd have to move and that's when the Winter Soldier would have reacted.
Bucky didn't want to react.
"I'm sorry," he stated. "I... I can't... I'll never..." Bucky sighed. There were no words that were going to make up for what he did, nothing that he could utter to make it right. It was cruel, what this place had done, plucking him here when it knew Tony was here, just to make the man suffer. No matter what the young woman had said, this could not be a mere coincidence.
"I... I don't know what to say."
no subject
"Then don't."
Tony wasn't out for excuses. He wasn't out for pity, much less from the man before him. No, no, no. He was out to get home. And James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, whoever the hell he was--he was just another wall to smash through. A massive liability with a slippery grip on his sanity.
Letting this man know rest was a decision not of emotion, but of pure practicality. Tony steadied his hand.
'Decisions that, honestly, feel like the right things to do at the time. Then you realize that you're lying to yourself--'
There was that voice again, throwing his own words back at him.
'--and the whole reason was because you really, honestly, just cannot help yourself because of how damn good they would make you feel.'
He clenched his fist. The glow of his repulsor died.
'Like murdering the man who killed your parents and stamped a giant, lingering black mark on your psyche.'
He brought his fist back into the mirror behind him. The sounds of shattering glass were distant and muddled.
no subject
Far from it, in fact.
He couldn't blame the man for the pain that he had, couldn't take it away. All he could really do was just react, at least until he could get away to his room and hide. He didn't know why the hotel had decided to test him like this, but it had. He wasn't enjoying it.
"I... I'll just go." He didn't know what to say. Tony was telling him not to say anything. He felt like he was at an impasse and he didn't know where else to turn. Any questions he did have about this place, Stark wasn't going to be the man to answer them.
no subject
HYDRA. HYDRA. HYDRA.
Home. Home. Home.
Tony repeated them in his head like a mantra.
"A sick dog's still just a dog." Tony's voice came out at a breathless monotone. All his emotions were shut away behind a wall, unsure of how long before it would give if he stayed.
Mercy? Regret? Sorrow? Tony was so far removed from himself he couldn't say why he was honestly sparing the man outside of simple pragmatism. He passed Bucky in an arc as he made for the hall, never taking his eyes from the man.
"Wander off and bite someone and I won't be the only one on your tail. But I will be the first."
no subject
"I don't do that anymore!" Bucky shook his head, staring at Tony as they began to put more distance between them. He didn't want a fight. He just wished he could get Stark to understand that.
If he had his way, Stark would never see him again. He'd do his best to hide in the hotel and avoid Stark at all costs. "There won't be any biting. You won't have to worry about me," he murmured.
He shook his head, knowing he'd never get a fair shot from Tony.