milliways_bar | (no subject)

He's seated in one of the darker corners of the room, a cup of coffee at hand and a thoughtful expression on his face.

His eyes narrow when he spots Gabe.

He leaves the coffee on the table and approaches the other man, being careful to circle around so that he doesn't come up on him from a blind spot.

"Been a while," he observes.

Gabriel appreciates that. He's about as tall as the last time they spoke but the musculature on him has increased quite a bit.

"Hey." He lifts his chin in greeting but the movement is more of a jerk. "How've you been, Bucky?" The words are slow and careful but still slur at the edges. He may be trying to deflect attention from himself by asking.

"Oh, you know. Staying busy."

Being on the trail of HYDRA, out of sight of the Avengers (especially Steve and Sam), and trying to stay two steps ahead of everyone else looking for him tends to keep a man pretty busy.

"Dropped by to grab a cup of coffee."

He gestures with his gloved left hand back at the table he'd been sitting at.

"Want to join me?"

He nods once, a single sharp motion. "Thanks." The corner is a little far but it's definitely out of the way and that's just fine. He maneuvers the chair to follow Bucky, having a decent hang of it by now. He's careful to not zoom (careening down the hallways was great until he had a spill and getting up is a bitch right now) but his hands tremble whenever they're not holding on to something.

He moves around the side of the table once he reaches it, giving the other man plenty of room to bring his chair up, then signals a waitrat to approach.

"Refill of coffee for me," he tells it, "and whatever he wants."

The docs have warned him off caffeine while his nerves are jacked up. Any drugs, really, except what they approve.

"Cocoa," he tells the rat, "sturdy mug." He had pretty good control over his grip until this, but he's had a few mishaps. He'd rather not break something if he can avoid it.

"Thanks," he tells Bucky again. "Don't think this is the drink you had in mind."

"I didn't have anything in mind," Bucky replies. "People want what they want."

A beat.

"Look, I'm not going to be an asshole about prying into your business, just so you know. So when I ask how things are going, I mean just that."

Gabe raises unsteady brows at him.

"You can ask." There's a trace of a wry smile on his face, spoiled by a tremor. "Think it's pretty obvious."

"Yeah, well."

He takes a swallow of his coffee.

"One thing, then: what you've got going on right now, is it part of your program, or some kind of injury?"

Or both, he supposes. It could be both.

"Side effects. Not intended."

He shrugs, shoulders twitching up. It could be worse. He could be on a valium drip cos he wouldn't stop seizing.

"Might still come out of it." He has to believe that. He can't go from busting droids to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. There's too much to do.

He lets out a harsh breath.

"Scientists."

Bucky shakes his head, leaving it at that, and takes another sip of coffee.

"Yeah, you could. You're tough."

He sounds like he's stating a simple fact, not whistling in the dark.

"Enough to deal, either way. So."

He flashes a sidelong look at Gabe.

"How's the fight against those omniums of yours going?"

He reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose but stops halfway through the motion. He makes a fist to try and stop the trembling as he puts his hand down again.

"Chicago evac still underway," he says, not clear on what he last told Bucky about. "Ground forces been working on slowing the advance of the Detroit omnics to give them time." He can only guess they're headed there first cos it's closer than New York or Washington, not to mention the hub of highways, railways, and water routes it gives them access to.

"Evacuating Chicago? Hell. Any hope of taking them out before they get there?"

"Plenty of hope," Gabe says easily. "Evac orders wouldn't have gone out if anyone believed that, though. Doing what we can."

And in the meantime he's stuck in a wheelchair, not helping anyone.

"Yeah. I hear you."

He shakes his head and takes another swallow of coffee.

Gabriel grunts. "Pretty much the same story the world over."

It's not a great time to be on his Earth.

"Nothing like that for you, right?"

"Like that? No. Not really."

He thinks it over for a moment, then shakes his head again.

"No. There was an asshole AI who tried to destroy everything a while back, but it was defeated. And there's a different kind of organization causing trouble -- but they're being hunted down."

There's grim satisfaction in his tone as he mentions the latter.

Edited 2019-04-01 03:47 (UTC)

It's rare to get much emotion from Bucky so he weights that response appropriately.

"Good."

Last time he tried to get details a lot of things were treated as classified.

"You out of retirement for that?" Yes or no shouldn't be asking for much.

Bucky slants a sharp look at him and is silent for a moment, weighing his answer.

"No. And yes."

He sets his coffee cup aside - it's empty now anyway - and considers Gabe carefully.

"I don't work for anyone else. Not any more."

Gabriel raises his eyebrows at that reaction, or tries to anyway. It's not as smooth a motion as he would like.

"Plenty of perks to self-employment," he says easily, feeling like he's being appraised. Personal freedom is probably the biggest one but he doesn't think he needs to be that obvious here. He offers a shrug instead, sharp and quick.

He's not judging.

"Mm. You're not wrong."

He continues to study the other man for a few moments longer, then appears to come to a decision. He nods, and says,

"When I ... switched branches... it wasn't exactly by choice. It's a long story, but basically -- once I found out what happened, I took some steps to deal with the people who used me as a lab experiment and turned me into a mindless weapon."

A beat of silence.

"That's the organization I mentioned."

He can definitely put together a few things from that statement. It explains his attitude toward scientists, his behavior, what he means by switching branches. Gabe's been avoiding the movies since he learned Bucky and Steve were here just to help keep things straight in his head, but getting a few more hints of the story helps, too.

He appears to consider this and nods somewhat slowly, unable to wholly control his rate of movement.

"Sounds to me like they've got it coming. Guessing you weren't their only weapon." What better way to take out the rest than having their own creation go rogue against them?

"They do."

Flat and steady, without a hint of doubt.

"And I wasn't... but I was ... unique, in some ways."

Not others.

Gabriel glances at his left wrist for the gleam of metal he's seen there before, wondering if that's what Bucky's referring to or if he means the whole 'mindless' thing.

He raises his eyebrows in question, inviting him to continue if he wishes. This can't be easy to talk about.

He catches the glance. Bucky shrugs out of the windbreaker he's wearing, letting it fall to the chair behind him.

The steel-bright metal of his arm gleams in the bar's light as he waits, giving the other man a few moments to take it in.

He furrows his brows at the show, making sure to note the red star. It's an impressive prosthetic and the quality of it is something his world won't catch up with until after the Crisis when the need for such things will be widespread.

"Not voluntary." It's not a question, more a callback to Bucky's original concern when Gabe first mentioned the SEP to him. Every concern about military medical experiments is on display here. "Shit, man." He shakes his head, letting a little anger onto his face. "Yeah, they got it coming."

"No. Not voluntary. None of it was - the arm, the memory wipes, being targeted to kill friends and allies, and all the rest. So yeah, they have it coming."

Somehow, his tone stays perfectly level throughout.

"Anyway. I guess you can see why I was... curious... about your program."

It makes him think of X. Fuck.

This time he does run his hand down his face, palm smacking slightly with the impact. "No, yeah, I get that. Purely voluntary with a fuck ton of paperwork we had to sign before going in. All fucking experimental and unreliable but they were up front about that." He shrugs. "Gotta try something."

Desperation is a potent motivator.

"Pretty sure Steve felt the same way when he signed up for his program."

Not to mention that Steve, by that point, would have done damn near anything to be accepted as a soldier.

One corner of his mouth quirks up, a little wry.

"Not sure how much paperwork he had to do, though."

Edited 2019-04-14 04:21 (UTC)

He lets his smile match Bucky's as much as he can. Topic change is probably good just now.

"Man, fuck the paperwork." He shakes his head. "Almost gave up halfway through that fucking dry ass novel." He cheated a bit and skimmed, but he wasn't just going to blindly sign. "Nothing kills drive to be a superhero like fucking red tape."

"Piles of files," he observes. "Guess that's how it goes when you've got a big system."

"Yeah. Most shit's kept digital but they're trying to keep the SEP only on hard copy. Any systems are localized and not connected." He manages to keep his shrug small.

"Not clear how good omnics are at hacking things, but the fear is they're robots so they probably got an advantage." They weren't really designed for that, but nobody programmed them to start an apocalypse either.

Edited 2019-04-16 20:44 (UTC)

"Probably a good idea. No sense in giving them a way to get access to any more intel than they can collect on their own. Make them work for it. Plant misinformation where you can."

He glances around for a waitrat, then gives the other man an inquiring look.

"Want a refill?"

He downs the last of his now cold cocoa, using both hands to keep the mug steady. "Sure," he says, considering Bucky's advice.

"Wonder." He looks thoughtful. "Wonder if they would even think to distrust what they read. Things were mostly designed as cheap labor, construction, service duties, that kind of thing. Aren't too many combat models and nothing was designed for espionage far as I know." That might change if the omniums start getting creative but they're not there yet.

"Really something to chew on. Thanks."

"Another round for each of us," he tells the attentive rat that's come in response to his signal. "My tab. Thanks."

Bucky nods to Gabriel.

"Sure thing. Espionage is something I know a bit about."

To say the least.

"Espionage against tin cans, though?" His brows jerk up, keenly interested in the answer. It seems like it'd be a hell of chess game, though they might have an initial advantage while the bots learn the rules of it.

"Not directly."

He shrugs his right shoulder, very slightly.

"But anything that's got a purpose usually has a reason for it. Find out the reason, what's important, and you can find a way to attack it."

His look turns frustrated, subtleties lost in his current condition.

"That's the thing. They weren't designed for Armageddon, they shouldn't have a reason for it." He shakes his head. "When the omniums first started back up, accusations went flying as to who did it. But they've attacked everyone, everywhere. A year into this mess and there's still been no demands, no ultimatums, from the omnics or anyone else."

He'd love to know the why, trace it back, maybe solve this at the root. But there's just nothing to follow right now.

"So maybe it's not a decision the way you and I think of it," he muses. "Maybe it's a flaw in their programming that has them running on their murder track, trying to do their job the way they interpret it. And if it's that, and you can figure out what's set them off on that path, then maybe you can plant something that screws up their operation in reverse."

"Hell of a flaw," he grouses, his index finger starting a slow tap against the side of his mug. Code shouldn't mutate that badly, should it? Should code mutate at all? He's no programmer. He doesn't know. How does he find out? Some department's gotta be researching it, right? Looking at the omnic code and seeing what it says? He hasn't seen any reports about it, but maybe that's above his paygrade.

"I'll see what intel we've got on it. Mostly been looking at technical specs." Where to land a shot to take a unit down. But he's going to need to think bigger to actually end this thing.

"If it's not classified I'll take a look at it with you, if you want," he offers, as the waitrat returns with their refills.

"But it's no skin off mine if that's a no-fly zone."

"Probably is but so am I," Gabe points out, carefully accepting his mug and offering a thank you to the rat.

"Not exactly sold on letting bureaucracy dictate the fate of the world."

He raises his own refilled cup to Gabe in acknowledgement.

"Probably wise. They tend to have their own agenda, which has nothing to do with the actual people it affects."

He meets that toast before taking a sip.

"Man, don't want to believe those fuckheads would be that selfish when the survival of humanity's at stake."

It's said in the tone of someone who totally believes those fuckheads are being that selfish.

"'nother reason to grab every advantage I can."

There's something incredibly dour about his expression as he says,

"We'll hope so. I've never met a selfish bureaucrat who cared more about others than themselves, but hey, anything's possible. Still, I'd bet with you on seizing all the advantages, first."

Gabriel gives another sharp shrug.

"Gotta start somewhere."

The SEP will all be worth it as long as he gets out of this chair.