(no subject)

[nerves_of_ice]

Another day, another city. He's not sure how long he'll be in this one - weeks, maybe a month or two, if he's lucky. He hasn't been lucky for a half-year or so now, but there's nothing to do about that except stay ready, and move when he needs to.

He'd picked the apartment because it was high up in the building. He prefers it that way; it lets him watch from various angles and lines of sight when he needs to, and gives him quick access to the roof and escape.

Not that he can see much from inside at the moment, of course, having just finished taping newspaper -- multiple thicknesses -- over the windows. It helps; the lines of text and distortion of blurry newsprint photos disguise any shadows that he might cast from within.

James takes a moment to look around. It's got everything he needs; sleeping bag unrolled on the cheap mattress in the corner, the windows (now covered), washroom no bigger than a closet, kitchenette barely bigger than that, even complete with the unimaginable luxury of a full-size fridge...

... ah. Food. Right.

He's not hungry, but food's the fuel that's necessary to keep going. It's too late to go to the market now, though. Instead, he goes to the apartment door, and opens it into Milliways.

Comments

[onceaviking]

Eric nods.

"I don't- my memories are gone. All of them."

He worries his bottom lip.

"Are we friends?"
He sounds hopeful.

Judging from his pallor and the lack of a pulse, he is still a vampire. Even if he doesn't sound like one at all.

[nerves_of_ice]

"I wouldn't call us that."

Still, he doesn't look like he's ready to cut the conversation short.

"Do you know what happened? To you... your memory?"

[onceaviking]

Eric's eyes grow bigger.
"A witch took them," he almost whispers. "She - I can still see her eyes. Her eyes that -"

You can hear the panic just beneath the surface. Trembling.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Breathe," he cuts in, sharp as the edge of a blade.

"Deep. In, out. Focus on that only. Nothing else."

[onceaviking]

The tone cuts through the rising tide of bitter panic.

He gasps and draws breath in. And out.
And then he says, "I don't have to. Breathe."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Doesn't matter. Worked, didn't it?"

[onceaviking]

Eric nods.

"Yes. Thank you."

So not Eric.

{ooc: bedtime for.me}

[nerves_of_ice]

[ooc: slowtime is such a useful invention...]

Really, really not.

Then again - how much of James 'Bucky' Barnes was and always will be the Winter Soldier, even when he couldn't recall?



"You're welcome."

[onceaviking]

He smiles, honestly and openly.

[nerves_of_ice]

... yeah, that's just weird.



"So. This witch's ... spell."

A beat.

"What're you going to do about it?"

[onceaviking]

His smile falters a little.

"I don't know," he says. Quietly.
"I want my memories back. My life."

[nerves_of_ice]

He just nods.


"Know any other witches?"

[onceaviking]

Eric looks at him with a sudden and wry small smile.

"I don't know, " he answers.

[nerves_of_ice]

He grimaces at that.

"Okay. Yeah. Fair point."

James mulls it over for a second or two, then jerks his head toward the bulletin board.

"You could put something up there. See if you get any response. Around here, I figure there's got to be someone who knows about that kind of magic thing."

[onceaviking]

Eric looks over at the bulletin board.

"Yes," he says. "That might be an idea. I just - really hate magic."

Really.

With reason.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Don't blame you there."

He shrugs.

"I also don't know how you're gonna beat this -- this spell without it."

[onceaviking]

"No," Eric says with a sigh. "And she shouldn't have done it. Nobody has a right to steal another's memories."

[nerves_of_ice]

"No."

His voice is very, very flat, and the look in his eyes is hard.

"They don't."

[onceaviking]

Eric looks at him.
And then he nods, slowly.

James understands. He doesn't have to know why. It's just - good to know that he understands.

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods back, and silence descends between them, for the moment.

[onceaviking]

Eric drinks his TruBlood quietly.
Then he says, a little hesitantly, "I remember one thing. Can I - can I tell you about it?"

There's a part of him, deep down, that fears that this memory will fade as well. If he doesn't keep it alive.

[nerves_of_ice]

James slants a look at him.

"Sure. Go ahead."

[onceaviking]

He turns to face him.

"I remember the sea," he says. "And a ship. I think. I remember the sound of it. Of sails and timber creaking. And I remember sand. And the -"

His voice grows very soft. His eyes distant. He swallows reflexively.
"The sun. The sun on my back. Thea my skin was warmed by it."

[nerves_of_ice]

"The sun," he observes, neutrally.

"This must have been ... before. Right?"

It never hurts to verify, when you can; making assumptions on hearsay intel's a good way to get killed.

[onceaviking]

Eric nods.

"Yes. It must have been."

Quietly.