IC Inbox

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This is the IC inbox for Bucky Barnes at Riverview.

Network name: user.name

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

Note: As of the end of December 2017, Bucky has no phone, he has destroyed it. Consequently, this inbox can only be used for in person interaction. You are still more than welcome to post here without plotting with me first.

Comments

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[She doesn't make a big deal about the name, or that she'd been given a false one before, and that's good. She understands. She'd probably even go right on calling him Mark if he asked it of her, but he won't. Perhaps he can try for a bit and see what it's like letting someone call him James, see if he can reclaim the name at all.]

Yeah.

[That's at least a fairly confident answer.]

I'm pretty sure that I used to dance a lot, so I must have liked the music that went with it.

[See, he can deduce things about himself.]

[pundemic]

[So she pulls out her cassette player. It's an old thing, scratched and worn in a few places. It's obvious that she could get something better here, that she's chosen not to. The tape inside says, to whatevers at the end of the world. <3 She and Riley used to joke about that. Being 'whatevers'. When they weren't sure if they were friends or girlfriends. Military prep was a complicated place, and they were so young.

It's weird to her, that she's older now than Riley was when she died. It seemed like she was just always chasing after her, one step behind in everything, and now...

She holds the player out for him.]

Can you do me a favour? And hang onto this for a while?

[It's sort of a double-edged sword. She wants to... be separate from it, for a while, and to make sure it's in the hands of someone who will treat it as carefully as she will. She can't keep clinging to the past, it's paralyzing her. She will never not be in whatevers with Riley, but... it's been a year. She has to keep moving forward. Baby steps.

Maybe this is poetic too.]

The batteries are brand new, so if you want to listen to it-- go ahead.

[advanced]

[He reaches out and takes the cassette player in his right hand, holding it carefully. He doesn't know why it means so much to her, but it's obvious that it does. It's so battered, and yet obviously lovingly cared for, and she's kept it even here where she has access to new things in more advanced technology.

It's a big thing to be trusted with.

That she's trusting him with it instead of someone else is both touching and slightly terrifying, but he wouldn't dream of throwing this back in her face. Instead, he carefully puts it into his backpack.]

I won't.

[Whatever it is, it's personal.]

But I'll have it whenever you want it back.

[He won't let anything happen to it.]

[pundemic]

I know.

[She wonders how many people know he's gentle. Not many. She gives him a slight smile, and then blows her hair out of her face with due teenage exasperation at it.]

Track six is my favourite. Now-- you got somewhere else you need to be?

[She likes the company, but he gets antsy sitting in one spot too long, and she doesn't mind giving him an out if he wants it. No hard feelings.]

[advanced]

[This is perhaps why they get along as well as they do, because she knows when he needs to be moving again. He doesn't have anywhere that he needs to be, but he nods all the same.]

If you need me, call. I'll come.

[It's not an offer he'd make to just anyone, but he means it.

Without another word, he turns and walks away into the trees.]