IC Inbox

[advanced]

This is the IC inbox for Bucky Barnes at Snowblind.

Network name: @bucky; formerly @j, @username, and @robertsmith

This is the place to contact Bucky over the Network. Contact by voice, text, or video is all perfectly acceptable, and there is no need to plot with me prior to posting in this inbox.

Any contact for @j following day 125, @username following day 190, or @robertsmith following day 224 will be met with the following message: USER NOT FOUND.

Comments

[advanced]

I've spoken to a doctor.

[Will she leave him alone if she knows that? He can but hope.]

[redrooms]

And?

[Nope.]

[advanced]

Partial amputations. I'm taking care of it myself.

[No probs, just some self surgery, he's got this.]

[redrooms]

You're giving yourself impromptu surgery with no one else there? With what?

[advanced]

I said I was taking care of it. And I'm not alone, that weird talking cat is with me.

[redrooms]

A cat cannot help you perform an amputation, James.

[Oops, the full name slipped out.]

Where is it? Your fingers?

[And... God. How does she even unpack that response?]

What do you mean, "talking"?

[advanced]

[He almost hangs up there and then when she calls him James, he hates his name over the network for whoever is listening in, not to mention his own issues with identity, but he doesn't. Nor does he know exactly where to start with her questions, maybe with the one least likely to lead to further interrogation about his frostbite.]

I mean that he talks. He's not a normal cat.

[redrooms]

[She exhales slowly, frustrated. She's going to... deal with the cat thing later, because now he's just using it to deflect.]

Where is the frostbite?

[advanced]

[Well, he should have known that wouldn't work.]

Where the arm connects. The metal got too cold, damaged the skin it touched.

[He can't risk taking the arm off, it's connected to all his nerve endings and, aside from the pain, there's no way he could reconnect it after. Losing some flesh around his shoulder is the lesser of two evils.]

[redrooms]

[A million times worse than she thought. Good.]

What are you removing?

[advanced]

Some flesh around the shoulder, hopefully it won't damage the arm function.

[He knows, though, that it's a stop-gap solution. With the metal and the conditions, it's only going to return as an issue time and time again until he eventually has to lose the arm. He knows she probably will know it too, but there's no point stating the obvious.

Self surgery isn't ideal, but hopefully she won't grill him any further on the how or make him go and see someone.]

[redrooms]

And why, exactly, are you jumping to cutting off tissue?

[advanced]

I told you, I spoke to a doctor.

[He's not jumping to that, he got advice.]

[redrooms]

[Bucky, listen!!!]

Do you have a first aid kit? Antiseptic? Bandages?

[advanced]

[Really, Nat? There's not a lot of those things here.]

I have a shard of glass and a ripped up t-shirt.

[redrooms]

We have two. Where are you?

[advanced]

No.

[redrooms]

Don't be an idiot. You'll fix the frostbite and die of infection.

[advanced]

I can handle it. Trust me.

[He's endured a lot worse than a little self surgery, he's got this covered.]

[redrooms]

You don't have to do it alone, and it's stupid to. Stubborn. That's my point.

[advanced]

Clint told me where you are, I'm not near there. By the time we meet up more damage will have been done.

Just use your supplies on him. He's an archer, he can't afford to lose fingers.

[redrooms]

I'm taking care of Clint. There's enough for both of you.

[advanced]

I said I'm nowhere near you.

The longer I wait, the more damage will be done.

[redrooms]

[He gets another frustrated sigh. He should start tallying them.]

And in the future, is this what you're going to do? Deal with everything by yourself no matter how little sense it makes?

[advanced]

[There's an audible hiss as he sighs right back, switching to the audio function finally.]

Tell me how it makes more sense to wait?