milliways_bar | (no subject)

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"Go. Go! Take this journal and write down everything you can remember. It will help, I promise you."

"Princess--"

"Do not argue. Find somewhere quiet, where you won't be bothered."

"The kids aren't a bother."

"They are also not quiet."

* * * * * * *

It's been a long time since he's been here, enough that if pressed he couldn't actually say how long. He hadn't exactly meant to come, either, but he'd been thinking about finding somewhere out of the way when he walked out of Shuri's lab, and there's no question that Milliways fits that description better than anywhere else.

About ten minutes later, Bucky Barnes is settled in at one of the quieter booths in the back, the journal open in front of him. (A close observer might notice that each page is subtly embossed with the logo of the Wakandan Design Group.)

He's holding a pen in his right hand and tapping it against the blank page. From time to time he sets down the pen and picks up the cup of coffee waiting beside him instead. A swallow or two later, he repeats the process, swapping cup for pen.

His left hand is immaterial to the whole process, as it's entirely absent. A series of gauze bandages are barely visible under the collar of his shirt, and his left sleeve is neatly pinned shut over where his arm used to be.

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"Grab a seat and put down your tray, then," he suggests. "You can take care of both at once."

"Ah, thank you." He smiles in relief, and bows politely once he's set the tray down. "I am Wei Wuxian, and if you see a very large Japanese man, or a very handsome cultivator all in white, you can tell them that I have definitely been eating... if not everything they deem fit."

"I'll remember that," he says, "although I don't know what a cultivator is. Someone all in white I can manage. Also someone Japanese."

He spent enough time in Japan to be certain of that, although the circumstances were... well.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Bucky, Bucky Barnes."

"I am one, for example - where I am from, there is a whole society of people who focus on strengthening and purifying their qi. Or, at least, that is supposed to be the focus." He shrugs, and takes a bao for himself as he settles in his chair. "Politics will find its way into everything."

"It sure does." That comes out a little more grim than he intended, and he covers by leaning forward to claim one of the bao from the plate. Wei Wuxian's right: there are plenty of them.

He sets it on the napkin that the waitrat had brought with the coffee earlier, and pushes the journal a little to the side, out of the way. It's a little awkward to do everything with only one hand, but he manages.

"So where are you from?"

"I am originally from Yunmeng, China - I lived at Lotus Pier, the home of the Jiang clan." Wei Wuxian explains, taking a bao for himself. "My shijie would be disappointed in me, I should be making friends with soup."

He's fluent in Japanese, but that doesn't do anything for him when it comes to understanding Chinese, no matter what dialect. He's picked up a few words and phrases over time, but this isn't one he knows.

"Brooklyn, New York, myself," he offers. "In the United States. Sorry, but I didn't catch that one word - your shijie?"

"Zenigata has told me some about the United States, but not much in detail." Mostly Wei Wuxian knows that Lupin has stolen from some people there, which... doesn't sound terribly surprising, given what he knows of that man. He's also seen the United States on a map, while Zenigata was explaining just how far France was from Japan, and from China.

"A shijie is a marital sister - in this case, Jiang Yanli, who was... she was the best." Doesn't matter what category we're arguing here, Wei Wuxian will staunchly insist that Jiang Yanli was the absolute best.

This time he doesn't miss the past tense.

Lived. Was.

He doesn't ask. Instead, he offers,

"And she liked soup?"

Martial sister, he'd said. Maybe some sort of clan relationship, but from Wei Wuxian's expression and the way he says Jiang Yanli's name, it's clearly as close as any blood relationship could ever be.

"Oh, soup is very important to the Yunmeng Jiang - there is a soup for every occasion. There have been diplomatic incidents over soup."

Has Wei Wuxian been at the center of such incidents?

You betcha.

Does he regret it?

Nope. The Peacock dissed shijie's soup, and deserved to be hit.

"Diplomatic incidents," he repeats. "Okay then."

He supposes he's heard weirder reasons.

"Well, we don't have soup, but the bao's fine with me," he adds, and takes a bite of his.

"Oh good - eventually there will be soup, Bar is sure to get me on another bartending stint here sooner or later." Wei Wuxian assures him, a Yunmeng boy still despite everything. "Bar tries, but it's not quite right."

"Hey, if you can cook at all, you're doing better than me," Bucky assures him. "I can just about boil rice and beans together and call it good."

"If you can make rice, you can make congee." Wei Ying encourages, "And that can be a fairly fancy meal, depending on what you put in."

"Is that anything like okayu?" he asks, thinking back through tricky memories to the time he'd spent in Japan.

"I'd never really thought of that kind of thing as fancy, but I guess it could be good to try." A little wryly, he adds, "I have to pay more attention to that sort of thing these days."

"Mmm, but congee is better." Wei Ying explains with some proto-nationalistic pride. "Try it with peppers, ginger, and a century egg. Very delicious."

As a bunch of cultivator juniors are going to discover shortly, no one should ever go to Wei Wuxian for what would be a universally-accepted tasty congee.

He's not sure about obtaining a century egg in Wakanda, but a regular egg'll probably work.

"I'll give it a shot," he agrees. "Thanks for the tip."

"You're welcome. When I do get pushed into a bartending stint, you should come back, I'll show you how to make soup." Wei Wuxian promises cheerfully. Look, everyone should know how to make Significant Soup, it's practically a diplomatic necessity. How are you supposed to tell someone you love them without soup?

~~No you can't just say something don't be ridiculous~~

~~Also does anyone have a vegetarian recipe for pork rib and lotus root soup?~~

Bucky grins, quick and bright -- just a little, just for a moment, but it's there.

"You do know you don't have to wait for bartending to get access to the kitchen here, right?"

"Mistress Sunshine is often in the kitchens, but she is a very good baker." Wei Wuxian agrees, but with the implied knowledge that you have to really know what you're doing to be allowed unrestrained access. His shijie, for example, would have definitely had access.

"She is," Bucky agrees, almost fervently. "Back during the war, the entire squad was ready to fight for her cinnamon rolls."

"I've been in there a couple of times, but not to make anything. Once was to help Sunny, actually, and the other time I was on KP for a week - er, dishwashing duty," he thinks to explain.

"Same for our little village - her goods were always a treat." He tries not to dwell on the faces of the dead, missed though they are. "Is washing dishes such a popular punishment around here?" If he had a nickel for every time he heard that he'd... well, he'd have two nickels, but that's still way more than he should have.

"Depends on who's giving you the punishment," he says, his tone more than a little dry.

"Washing dishes, cleaning the stables, gardening in the greenhouse, and time in the cells - those are just the ones I know about."

A beat of silence, as he considers how that sounds.

"I only did three out of the four."

... that's probably not any better.

"This place is so weird." Says the former first disciple, who is used to an entirely different sort of punishment scheme.

"Well, yes," he agrees. "But why d'you say that?"