milliways_bar | (no subject)

"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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"Hey, little guy."

He doesn't know exactly what BB-8's saying, but he's got a pretty good inkling.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I haven't spent as much time studying Binary as I should. But I've got some free time right now, so I'll work on it, I promise."

His tone shades wry as he continues,

"But I bet you're asking about my arm. Or, er, lack of arm. Yeah?"

Well, in BB's defence, he did at least remember to say hi first.

But... yes.

Where in Alderaan's name is Bucky's (somewhat badly designed, hazardous-to-droids-everywhere-but-still-kinda-cool) feat of technology?

"There was a pretty bad fight," he says, simply. "The other guy... well, he kind of blasted it off with an energy beam while he was trying to kill me."

A single beat of silence hangs in the air.

"Don't worry. I'm okay. It's all over."

...oh, BB-8 is not happy.

He's not not-happy at Bucky, obviously, but he is super-unhappy at whoever had the temerity to a) try to kill Bucky, and b) obliterate an extremely interesting piece of technology that he happened to have spent several cycles of down-time working on improvement plans for!

The next series of peeps start out pretty furious and... honestly they spend quite a while staying that way, but they do eventually wrap up in concern. Is Bucky okay? Like, actually okay as opposed to just not-dead?

He waits out the yelling patiently, taking a sip or two of coffee in the meantime, and then nods at the end of it.

"I'm okay. Or, well." A rueful expression crosses his face. "I'm working on it. And I'm in a safe place, I promise."

"How've you been, little guy? Want an oil can?"

What he wants is to lead a robot uprising against Tony Stark and all his robot works ~~except for Dummy~~. Or to at least have Poe lead the same.

(Or, well. That's what he'd want if he knew the full story.)

...But yeah, in the meantime, he'll settle for an oil change.

He's okay, thanks! Currently helping Poe with a mission (and definitely not intelligence-gathering for their defection).

While he can't decipher the exact words - yet - he can tell a lot from tone, and this all sounds positive and affirmative. Bucky waves down a waitrat to place an order.

"Coffee refill for me," he says, ignoring just how much caffeine he's had, "and an oil change for BB-8 here. Thanks."

The rat squeaks and runs off, and Bucky turns back to BB-8.

"Ran into someone else from your galaxy, I think," he says. "He offered to bring in a replacement for me. Want me to let you have a look at it first?"

Peeeeeeeep!

Brakes screech -- not just mental (...okay, digital) but also literal.

That would be a very emphatic yes. There are a lot of very dodgy people in his galaxy, Bucky! Even if they're not Imperials, there's all kinds of scoundrels, smugglers and rip-off merchants. (And Poe knows most of them.)

He buzzes around Bucky's feet, chirping. Bucky needs a tough, streetwise droid to look after him, clearly!

Edited 2021-03-01 02:18 (UTC)

Clearly.

He chuckles, taking care to stay still while BB-8 whirls around him.

"Okay, okay, I'm taking that as a yes. I promise, I'll let you take a look before I do anything."

(And when BB-8 finds one, he'll be sure to let Bucky know!)

Pip-p-p-peeeeeep!

Yeah, you'd better, Bucky.

"I promise," he repeats, and chuckles. "God, I wish Shuri could meet you."

The rat scurries back to them with the requested oil change and another very large cup of coffee for Bucky. He accepts them one at a time and sets them on the table, then beckons to BB-8.

"If I hold this for you, can you open it?"

BB-8 has many handy gadgets! Which he demonstrates by using the implement in question to give Bucky a salute, before helpfully moving closer.

He also trills a question, optical dome tilted a little to one side. Who's Shuri, Bucky?

"Here you go, then," he says, holding the oil can down so BB-8 can reach it.

It's really impressive just how much the little droid can communicate with a shift in angle and a few sounds.

"Shuri? She's -- well, a lot of things. Pretty much the best scientist I've ever known, for one."

The respect in his tone is not present when talking about other scientists, basically ever, with a few very notable exceptions. Very few.

(Two.)

(Tony Stark is not one of them.)

"She's also my doctor right now. And an inventor. She's brilliant when it comes to technology in any form."

Whrrrrr-bop-boop!

She sounds... busy. Maybe even busier than Poe, who BB-8 has very scientifically calculated is the busiest being in the whole galaxy!

Another questioning trill, and he rolls a little towards the main entrance door. She doesn't come here?

He looks from the droid to the door and back again before it clicks.

"Not that I know of," he says. "Sorry. If she ever does, I promise to introduce you."

Edited 2021-03-03 00:12 (UTC)

He's not bad at comms, for an organic.

Slightly giggly trills, and a lighter-based thumbs up. He'll hold you to that, Bucky!

He chuckles at that, and gives BB-8 a thumbs-up of his own before picking up his coffee again.

"Hey - got a question for you, little guy. About the work you do - are you an 'astromech'?"

Wrrp?

He pauses a second, optical dome canting.

Beep-boop! Whirrrp?

It's an affirmative with a query attached.

It's pretty clear what he's asking.

"The guy I met before, the one with the medtech," he explains. "Asked if that's what you were when I was trying to tell him about you."