( @bakersboywiththebread )

All at once it seemed the Districts collectively went quiet. A sombre tone lurked, heavy and all-enveloping, as a fog with no visible end nor beginning. It seemed like a joke. The only somewhat fine dress Katniss Everdeen possessed laid on her bed, and all she could do was stare at it. Her finest garment from her mother for the singular most anticipated for day of the year- not only for her, but for all those unlucky enough to be in the Districts rather than the Capitol. The light blue fabric felt wrong on her skin, it clung too close for comfort. The collar itched, the sleeves billowed. Her dark hair was tied up too tightly in a manner unlike her. It was strange- strange and wrong to be dressing up for the sake of a game all about death, perhaps hers if that slip of paper bore her name. Or worse, her sisters.

Primrose stood by the mirror next to her older sister, cheeks already streaked with tears. “Hush, little dove. It won’t be you. It’s your first year.” Katniss’ words of comfort were there to reassure her sister, her mother, and herself. But there was logic to it, right? Out of all the names in that bowl, the universe would have to be particularly spiteful to pick Prim’s.

The treck to the Hall of Justice seemed like a funeral march. A prick of blood after standing in a long line and suddenly your fate was sealed without you knowing it yet. Katniss lost her sister amongst the crowd, only spotting her mother and Gale. What tiny bit of blood stolen from her fingertip stained her skirt just slightly. Primrose would be there somewhere, probably somewhere among her friends. She would find her later. An obnoxious tap on the microphone on the stage followed by a Capitol woman in an even more obnoxious outfit made all chatter cease. Thus, the reaping ceremony begun.

Katniss let her silence speak for itself as she watched Haymitch with a wary gleam in her eyes. She was skeptical. She was aware that this was a man who had once won the games, who knew what it took to return back home. It wasn't that she believed he had no advice to offer them, rather, she didn't know if she could rely on him offering it properly. At least not if he was a frequent day-drinker, which was currently the impression she was getting.

Her posture straightened itself as their mentor, seated opposite them, who let his gaze saunter across the room, still in search of those damned ice cubes. He chuckled grimly upon hearing Peeta's kind tone. Katniss thought her fellow tribute was already offering enough of his patience, and she was silently thankful that he seemed more hopeful than she did already. Silently thankful for his kindness, and she wished the very least she could do was make sure he got back home. But that would mean she wouldn't get to go home herself. She didn't quite know if she was willing to sacrifice that; at least not yet.

"Right, you want my advice?" Haymitch perked up, lifting his head, looking at the two tributes. "Accept and embrace the fact that your death is most likely certain and inescapable. Ultimately, I cannot do anything to save you, this is in your hands."

This. This ignited something in Everdeen, a frustration like none other. Even if she had those very same thoughts circulating her mind, she found it disheartening that their mentor would voice them. "What the hell are you here for then?" He shrugged, then pointed at his glass of whiskey. "Free drinks."

Crossroads. Even though all roads led to district twelve for Coriolanus Snow, the blonde felt completely torn on what path his future should take next. He was at a crossroads. He had managed to help his tribute win the tenth annual Hunger Games, even got the Capital to sponsor and send gifts; place bets. It was the most interactive the Games had ever been. Dare he say, the best Games ever watched. It definitely had a swell increase in views all around Panem. Not even ones that hated Coriolanus could deny such an incredible feat.

As he stood in front of the pub in twelve his mind raced. His heart felt cold, body in total awareness at all times and thoughts jumbling into the next before finally finally he walked inside. His best friend, Sejanus, walked beside him. For a moment he wanted to walk a bit faster as though he were showing his pride off… that even though he had been thrown into the peacekeepers he was still going to respected as he expected. However seeing Lucy Gray on stage had stopped him cold in those thoughts. His Lucy Gray.

“Lucy Gray…” Coryo whispered with a small smile. He watched as she sang with the same passion she did at her reaping. Lucy Gray was smiling brightly as she did so, dress skirt swaying cheerfully to match her personality. Beside him, Sejanus spoke up. “She’s the reason you wanted to come to twelve isn’t she?”

A head tilt. “Yes” Coryo said simply. Nothing else was said between the two. The conversation finished as soon as it started. As far as Coriolanus was concerned nobody needed to know the true depths that Lucy Gray managed to fill in the short time they were last together. It brought about feelings that he did not understand. Emotions he did not have a name for nor did he want to understand them either. Why should he? From a young age where he did not have anything or anyone besides his cousin Tigris, he built a certain number of walls to protect himself. Were those walls tumbling down? He hoped not. But then a silver lining of light seemed to break through cracks. Without his knowledge.

@dasilvaaaaa

Letting her hand that was plucking at the guitar's strings fall to grab at her skirt in an attempt to get Taupe's charcoal-stained fingers off of it, Lucy Gray watched the crowd continue to dance. His shouting had been insignificant among the rest of the bubbly laughs, lively chatter and tapping of boots throughout the room. The pub allowed for a bubble to form around each individual, allowing them rest and escape from a hard day or weeks worth of labor. They couldn't be blamed for being unaware of Billy's aggressive behaviour, however, as soon as he attempted to climb the stage to get closer to his ex-girlfriend, people started to turn and look at him. Lucy Gray continued to attempt to pry his hands off of her, a rush of adrenaline and something akin to fear coursing through her.

It still felt as if she had one foot in the arena. Sure, she had been allowed to return to her home, her safe space, and she could resume her performative life as usual. But the paranoia and wary instinct that had been forced upon her to be taught in the games had followed her back home, like a ball and chain tied to her ankle. Usually, she was more difficult to scare. She was fuelled by compassion and care, morals and honesty- not fear. It took a lot for her to grow entirely panicked, but now it seemed even something like a drunken man yelling and grabbing at her was enough to make her blood run cold and her heart to start beating ten times faster.

And to think, this was the man who could, perhaps, be blamed for her ending up in that amphitheater in the first place. If he hadn't cheated on her then she might not have had her name written down on the list of enemies belonging to the Mayor's daughter. Something in the brunette's gut told her that Mayfair's smug grin and snarky remark to her name being called at the reaping was more malicious than she'd originally thought. It was too late to prove anything anyway, and no point in it either.

Sejanus stood up slowly as he realised a semi-circle was being formed around the front of the stage. He watched with furrowed eyebrows as Coriolanus made his way towards the intoxicated man who was causing he scene. It worried him that he was bringing more attention to himself when, really, he needed to stay low and stay out of trouble.

Lucy Gray fought a gasp as Snow grabbed Taupe's collar, his fist repeatedly meeting his face in a brutal act of violence in the name of protection. Her guitar made a clunk as it fell to her side, and she peered down from the stage. Chaos erupted in the room as Mayfair attempted to grab her lover, his face growing more and more bloody with each punch thrown at him. People held onto Mayfair, others fought those attempting to restrict her from fending for herself. Amongst it all, the singer met Coriolanus' gaze. Something about his icy blue eyes made her feel sheltered, as if she were beneath his wing, but there was something else to be found too. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Before she could manage to say anything, a peacekeeper slung his arms around the blonde man, dragging him backwards, ordering for him to follow the rest of the peacekeepers out. Lucy Gray attempted to follow suit, navigating the crowd still in shambles. "Coriolanus!" She yelled, but her voice drowned amidst the noise rather than overpowering it as it usually did.

( @bakersboywiththebread )

All at once it seemed the Districts collectively went quiet. A sombre tone lurked, heavy and all-enveloping, as a fog with no visible end nor beginning. It seemed like a joke. The only somewhat fine dress Katniss Everdeen possessed laid on her bed, and all she could do was stare at it. Her finest garment from her mother for the singular most anticipated for day of the year- not only for her, but for all those unlucky enough to be in the Districts rather than the Capitol. The light blue fabric felt wrong on her skin, it clung too close for comfort. The collar itched, the sleeves billowed. Her dark hair was tied up too tightly in a manner unlike her. It was strange- strange and wrong to be dressing up for the sake of a game all about death, perhaps hers if that slip of paper bore her name. Or worse, her sisters.

Primrose stood by the mirror next to her older sister, cheeks already streaked with tears. “Hush, little dove. It won’t be you. It’s your first year.” Katniss’ words of comfort were there to reassure her sister, her mother, and herself. But there was logic to it, right? Out of all the names in that bowl, the universe would have to be particularly spiteful to pick Prim’s.

The treck to the Hall of Justice seemed like a funeral march. A prick of blood after standing in a long line and suddenly your fate was sealed without you knowing it yet. Katniss lost her sister amongst the crowd, only spotting her mother and Gale. What tiny bit of blood stolen from her fingertip stained her skirt just slightly. Primrose would be there somewhere, probably somewhere among her friends. She would find her later. An obnoxious tap on the microphone on the stage followed by a Capitol woman in an even more obnoxious outfit made all chatter cease. Thus, the reaping ceremony begun.

Tears did not come easy to Katniss. At least that was what she convinced herself, because that was the effect caused by shoving her problems and fears down; down until they were buried so far that she could pretend they didn't bother her. Something in Peeta's tone and that simple statement rung in her head and plucked at a heartstring of hers. His compassion had already reached further than she had thought it would, she would never dare to expect such a level of consideration.

But then again, when she met his eyes once more, she recalled his face slightly obscured by the rain. It felt as if she was back to that tree she was leaned up against. Eyelids fighting to stay open, hands with red almost blue knuckles jammed into her pockets, body tucked into itself. Then he saw her, and she saw him. He threw her that piece of bread, slightly burnt, but it was much more than an empty stomach.

The clanking of Haymitch opening and closing various vials or tins sharpened Katniss's gaze, watching him closely. "Where is the damned ice..." He muttered under his breath with an exasperated sigh, resigning to a glass of room temperature glass of whiskey.

Everdeen knew not if she was to be amused or bemused. A more correct reaction would be perhaps one of worry; since a lot of faith would be needed to trust a drunkard with helping them save their own lives. She figured her judgement was harsh and too quick, since he did manage to win the games once himself, so he had to have a bit of knowledge up his sleeve. All she could do was watch and survey, remaining silent as Haymitch took a seat opposite to them.

"Wow, wow, wow, no need to be so eager... Already in such a hurry, that's unusual." The blond man raised his hands, drink swishing around in his glass as a result.

( @bakersboywiththebread )

All at once it seemed the Districts collectively went quiet. A sombre tone lurked, heavy and all-enveloping, as a fog with no visible end nor beginning. It seemed like a joke. The only somewhat fine dress Katniss Everdeen possessed laid on her bed, and all she could do was stare at it. Her finest garment from her mother for the singular most anticipated for day of the year- not only for her, but for all those unlucky enough to be in the Districts rather than the Capitol. The light blue fabric felt wrong on her skin, it clung too close for comfort. The collar itched, the sleeves billowed. Her dark hair was tied up too tightly in a manner unlike her. It was strange- strange and wrong to be dressing up for the sake of a game all about death, perhaps hers if that slip of paper bore her name. Or worse, her sisters.

Primrose stood by the mirror next to her older sister, cheeks already streaked with tears. “Hush, little dove. It won’t be you. It’s your first year.” Katniss’ words of comfort were there to reassure her sister, her mother, and herself. But there was logic to it, right? Out of all the names in that bowl, the universe would have to be particularly spiteful to pick Prim’s.

The treck to the Hall of Justice seemed like a funeral march. A prick of blood after standing in a long line and suddenly your fate was sealed without you knowing it yet. Katniss lost her sister amongst the crowd, only spotting her mother and Gale. What tiny bit of blood stolen from her fingertip stained her skirt just slightly. Primrose would be there somewhere, probably somewhere among her friends. She would find her later. An obnoxious tap on the microphone on the stage followed by a Capitol woman in an even more obnoxious outfit made all chatter cease. Thus, the reaping ceremony begun.

"Just think, 200 miles an hour, and you can barely feel a thing! Oh, I know it's only a very limited space of time that you get here, but do make sure to enjoy it." Effie's high-pitched and alarmingly positive voice rung in the train cart as the three sat by a table.

Even with such delicacies lined up in front of her in the form of lavish foods and cakes, ones she had never seen let alone heard of before, Katniss' appetite was non-existent. The pain of an empty stomach was like none other, and hunger was something the vast majority of District Twelve's population had to deal with. Most would jump at the opportunity to be served with such fine things, wine and dine as much as possible to experience a properly full stomach for perhaps the first time. Perhaps Katniss would have done the same, if it wasn't for the looming omen of death that was to be her future. Or at the least could very well be her future.

Effie's attempt to make conversation fell on deaf ears, and when she retreated to find Haymitch, Katniss barely registered her leave. Looking out the window, the brunette caught sight of her reflection. She saw much of her sister in herself; the curve of their nose, the unruly eyebrows, the slightly slanted eyes. It pained her to know that she couldn't be there to take care of her and her mother, leaving them without the proper means to ensure their daily life could continue with the bare necessities.

Turning to Peeta as he spoke, Katniss pondered if he somehow knew what she had been thinking. Silence fell over them once more before she slowly and curtly nodded. "I... Thank you." Her voice was more meek and raspy than she intended it to be. She didn't want to showcase her weakness and pain, didn't want to have those thoughts become heavier on her shoulders than they already were by acknowledging them out loud. Hence, it was easier to put up a wall and be resigned. Even if she felt guilty about being short and calloused with her replies; especially when Peeta was being helpful and showing compassion.

Thankful for the change in topic which could allow her to stray from those worries at the forefront of her mind, Katniss shifted in her seat. "I haven't, no. Seen banners with his face on them at the market though, back from when he won." She said. "I can't blame him for choosing a quiet life after-"

Interrupted by the sliding doors of the train, Everdeen sharply turned her head. Speaking of the devil, he'd finally seemed to found. The buttons of her shirt were done up wrong (if they were done up at all, that is), cuffs of mismatching lengths, and the slight redness to his face was all she needed to see. It was clear this man liked to drink his problems and forced responsibilities away. This, she couldn't blame him for either- at least not entirely. Pouring a glass of whiskey, his speech was not slurred and his voice was not unclear, though it did carry a bitter tone. "Congratulations, you two."

Crossroads. Even though all roads led to district twelve for Coriolanus Snow, the blonde felt completely torn on what path his future should take next. He was at a crossroads. He had managed to help his tribute win the tenth annual Hunger Games, even got the Capital to sponsor and send gifts; place bets. It was the most interactive the Games had ever been. Dare he say, the best Games ever watched. It definitely had a swell increase in views all around Panem. Not even ones that hated Coriolanus could deny such an incredible feat.

As he stood in front of the pub in twelve his mind raced. His heart felt cold, body in total awareness at all times and thoughts jumbling into the next before finally finally he walked inside. His best friend, Sejanus, walked beside him. For a moment he wanted to walk a bit faster as though he were showing his pride off… that even though he had been thrown into the peacekeepers he was still going to respected as he expected. However seeing Lucy Gray on stage had stopped him cold in those thoughts. His Lucy Gray.

“Lucy Gray…” Coryo whispered with a small smile. He watched as she sang with the same passion she did at her reaping. Lucy Gray was smiling brightly as she did so, dress skirt swaying cheerfully to match her personality. Beside him, Sejanus spoke up. “She’s the reason you wanted to come to twelve isn’t she?”

A head tilt. “Yes” Coryo said simply. Nothing else was said between the two. The conversation finished as soon as it started. As far as Coriolanus was concerned nobody needed to know the true depths that Lucy Gray managed to fill in the short time they were last together. It brought about feelings that he did not understand. Emotions he did not have a name for nor did he want to understand them either. Why should he? From a young age where he did not have anything or anyone besides his cousin Tigris, he built a certain number of walls to protect himself. Were those walls tumbling down? He hoped not. But then a silver lining of light seemed to break through cracks. Without his knowledge.

@dasilvaaaaa

The familiar air of the crowded pub was alive with chatter and music, a nightly distraction for all those living and working in district twelve. Empty stomachs filled with their very own brand of white liquor - moonshine, brewed under the table at the Hob. Smiles were painted across just about every individual, dancing their sorrows and worries away. Lucy Gray Baird had never thought about just how much she had missed that sound of boots tapping across the old hardwood floors in a united rhythm until she had returned from the arena.

Having been reaped for the Hunger Games and forced into that deadly amphitheater had already been a tough pill to swallow, but adjusting to the fact that she returned as a victor was another; One she hadn't quite dared to anticipate with full confidence. One in twenty-four, those weren't exactly the best of odds. She wasn't proud of what she did to return to her homely district once more. Alas, she escaped her grave-dressing, partly fuelled by optimism and the natural urge to survive, though also, and perhaps mainly, fuelled with the help of her mentor: Coriolanus Snow.

The man who had captured her spirits and given her hope, the man she came to trust so fiercely. Lucy Gray feared the consequences their cheating tactics would have if caught, knowing that despite winning, they could very well be dead victors walking. Last she had heard, a decision was made to send Coriolanus to district eight to serve time as a peacekeeper. This was a partial relief, knowing that they had not taken his life through the means of direct brute force. However, she recognised that this was taking him away from all he knew, a punishment of its own. Though her thoughts were often plagued by the memories of the arena, she could sleep a little easier knowing the man who had helped her - ensured her survival - was alive. Even if there was a very little chance of seeing him ever again, at least she could fall asleep with thoughts of him doing just fine. Though she wished they just could have had more time.

The applause following the end of yet another song was Lucy Gray's cue to make her way to the stage as the former performer introduced her. Music was, simultaneously, her source and her outlet. A preferred mode of expression and way to navigate the seemingly unnavigable. The warm light shining on her as she reached the platform was inviting, washing away what pain she carried with her. "Hello, district twelve! I can't begin to explain how good it feels to be back, as unexpected as it maybe is. I hope y'all didn't miss my songs too much- but I'll make it up to you." Smiling brightly, the brunette's fingertips started plucking at the strings of her guitar.

Her Appalachian accent rung clear and strong as she sang, figure swaying with the music. She gazed over the crowd, boots tapping along with the people. However, her heart just about jumped out of her chest and her voice faltered as she spotted a familiar set of blue eyes adorned on a familiar face. One she hadn't dared to hope to see again, though she had wished it with every fibre of her being, whether she liked to admit it or not. It was Coriolanus, as unbelievable as it was. Though she could recognise him from across the room, (hell, even if she was miles away she could probably still spot him) it was evident that peacekeeper life had started to change him- even if it was just physically with a shortened hair-cut. She had to talk to him.

The crowd noticed her singing missing, and Lucy Gray picked her voice up again from where she'd dropped it, her grin even more illuminating than before. Just in that moment of peace, Billy Taupe, her ex-boyfriend, staggered his way towards the stage. His words were slurred and mostly unintelligible with all the positive chaos surrounding them. This didn't stop him from shouting louder until she heard him though. "You missed me, Lucy Gray? I know you did!" His hands reached to grab at her skirt, and she faltered in her steps, moving backwards.

( @bakersboywiththebread )

All at once it seemed the Districts collectively went quiet. A sombre tone lurked, heavy and all-enveloping, as a fog with no visible end nor beginning. It seemed like a joke. The only somewhat fine dress Katniss Everdeen possessed laid on her bed, and all she could do was stare at it. Her finest garment from her mother for the singular most anticipated for day of the year- not only for her, but for all those unlucky enough to be in the Districts rather than the Capitol. The light blue fabric felt wrong on her skin, it clung too close for comfort. The collar itched, the sleeves billowed. Her dark hair was tied up too tightly in a manner unlike her. It was strange- strange and wrong to be dressing up for the sake of a game all about death, perhaps hers if that slip of paper bore her name. Or worse, her sisters.

Primrose stood by the mirror next to her older sister, cheeks already streaked with tears. “Hush, little dove. It won’t be you. It’s your first year.” Katniss’ words of comfort were there to reassure her sister, her mother, and herself. But there was logic to it, right? Out of all the names in that bowl, the universe would have to be particularly spiteful to pick Prim’s.

The treck to the Hall of Justice seemed like a funeral march. A prick of blood after standing in a long line and suddenly your fate was sealed without you knowing it yet. Katniss lost her sister amongst the crowd, only spotting her mother and Gale. What tiny bit of blood stolen from her fingertip stained her skirt just slightly. Primrose would be there somewhere, probably somewhere among her friends. She would find her later. An obnoxious tap on the microphone on the stage followed by a Capitol woman in an even more obnoxious outfit made all chatter cease. Thus, the reaping ceremony begun.

Katniss watched how a combination of relief and pity knitted itself through the crowd’s unified expression. She couldn’t blame them; it would’ve brought her immense calm and an extra kick to know she nor her loved ones had been picked. It felt much different on the stage, knowing she had volunteered. Yet she accepted the choice she had made, even if her hopes of living to recount whatever she’d come to experience in the arena were already dwindled.

The peacekeepers ushered Peeta to the stage, Effie Trinket beckoning for him to place himself next to his fellow tribute. That initial wave of shock which had washed over the brunette settled into her nerves and every fibre of her being, it felt as if she was shivering all over.

She couldn’t envision the baker’s son fighting for his life in a stupid game; From what little she knew of him but gathered anyway, he seemed tranquil and passive. His demeanour wasn’t aggressive. Not remotely vicious. It was grounded. This was something she would later become thankful for, though she did not know it quite yet.

“Go on you two, shake hands!” Effie ushered them, to which Katniss curtly stuck out her hand for Peeta to shake.

Far too soon came the time to say goodbye to her sister, her mother, and Gale. It was far too brief- the only thing she could was promise that she would come back. The doors were shut and the voices of her loved ones drowned beyond the piece of wood. It felt like being put in a coffin, nailed shut, hearing the world continue to rotate at it’s usual pace.

The moment the initial shock faded, determination hit Peeta, he wasn't calm, but relatively collected, even if he stood no chance of winning this, Katniss was a survivor. If he, somehow, could at least try to make sure she lived, he would.

He took her hand when offered, as expected, shaking it, seeking eye contact if only for a moment before they were taken away to say their goodbyes.

He allowed himself to cry over it, but quickly collected himself and turned his attention to his father.

"Can you promise me something? With Katniss gone, her sister and mother needs someone to make sure there's food on their table. Give them whatever we can spare." His tone was pleading, and his father gave a quick, if subtle nod.

His mother gave a look of disapproval, as if he had suggested they would start eating rats for every meal.

"District 12 may finally have a winner. She's a survivor, that Everdeen girl." She said, as their time was just about up. The fact that, at least, he had done something to help them, mattered.

It was all he could do, and Peeta hoped it'd be enough. Make a difference.

Katniss felt, not only, in charge of her own fate, but, too, that of Peeta’s too. At least partially. She could go about it in a cynical matter, resort to the selfish tactic of focusing on her survival and her survival alone. After all, the games only allowed for there to be one victor. Despite her outward coolness, her nature was based almost solely on compassion; this nature was what dictated her thinking and made her know that she would, at a minimum, attempt to aid him. And hopefully they could help one another, share skills, ideas, the likes. She wasn’t much of a friend-making type, but she recognised that now would be a good time to have someone in her corner. It was difficult to predict how things would actually go in the arena, but she was adamant about not leaving him to the wolves just for the mere sake of it.

Directed towards the train by several peacekeepers with sharp eyes and tight grips on their weapons, Everdeen tried to shut off all thoughts and doubts. She had to take things one at a time, or else she would be overwhelmed. She tried not to think too much of how those embraces with her loved ones could’ve been the very last. Even if her mother had seemed unresponsive, unaffectionate, she still needed to protect her unit. Who would take care of them if she wasn’t there?

“The time up in the Capitol always flies right by! Make sure to enjoy the journey,” Effie’s overly positive tone sounded like a ringing mockery to Katniss’ ears. She remained silent, taking a seat aboard the modern vehicle of transportation. Everything looked so sleek, so clean. Sterilised. Perfect. Barf-worthy in the grand scheme of things.

“I must introduce you to your mentor… I will have to locate him as he seems to have strayed- again.” The woman spoke once more, and this peaked Katniss’ interest.

( @bakersboywiththebread )

All at once it seemed the Districts collectively went quiet. A sombre tone lurked, heavy and all-enveloping, as a fog with no visible end nor beginning. It seemed like a joke. The only somewhat fine dress Katniss Everdeen possessed laid on her bed, and all she could do was stare at it. Her finest garment from her mother for the singular most anticipated for day of the year- not only for her, but for all those unlucky enough to be in the Districts rather than the Capitol. The light blue fabric felt wrong on her skin, it clung too close for comfort. The collar itched, the sleeves billowed. Her dark hair was tied up too tightly in a manner unlike her. It was strange- strange and wrong to be dressing up for the sake of a game all about death, perhaps hers if that slip of paper bore her name. Or worse, her sisters.

Primrose stood by the mirror next to her older sister, cheeks already streaked with tears. “Hush, little dove. It won’t be you. It’s your first year.” Katniss’ words of comfort were there to reassure her sister, her mother, and herself. But there was logic to it, right? Out of all the names in that bowl, the universe would have to be particularly spiteful to pick Prim’s.

The treck to the Hall of Justice seemed like a funeral march. A prick of blood after standing in a long line and suddenly your fate was sealed without you knowing it yet. Katniss lost her sister amongst the crowd, only spotting her mother and Gale. What tiny bit of blood stolen from her fingertip stained her skirt just slightly. Primrose would be there somewhere, probably somewhere among her friends. She would find her later. An obnoxious tap on the microphone on the stage followed by a Capitol woman in an even more obnoxious outfit made all chatter cease. Thus, the reaping ceremony begun.

Katniss watched how a combination of relief and pity knitted itself through the crowd’s unified expression. She couldn’t blame them; it would’ve brought her immense calm and an extra kick to know she nor her loved ones had been picked. It felt much different on the stage, knowing she had volunteered. Yet she accepted the choice she had made, even if her hopes of living to recount whatever she’d come to experience in the arena were already dwindled.

The peacekeepers ushered Peeta to the stage, Effie Trinket beckoning for him to place himself next to his fellow tribute. That initial wave of shock which had washed over the brunette settled into her nerves and every fibre of her being, it felt as if she was shivering all over.

She couldn’t envision the baker’s son fighting for his life in a stupid game; From what little she knew of him but gathered anyway, he seemed tranquil and passive. His demeanour wasn’t aggressive. Not remotely vicious. It was grounded. This was something she would later become thankful for, though she did not know it quite yet.

“Go on you two, shake hands!” Effie ushered them, to which Katniss curtly stuck out her hand for Peeta to shake.

Far too soon came the time to say goodbye to her sister, her mother, and Gale. It was far too brief- the only thing she could was promise that she would come back. The doors were shut and the voices of her loved ones drowned beyond the piece of wood. It felt like being put in a coffin, nailed shut, hearing the world continue to rotate at it’s usual pace.

( @bakersboywiththebread )

All at once it seemed the Districts collectively went quiet. A sombre tone lurked, heavy and all-enveloping, as a fog with no visible end nor beginning. It seemed like a joke. The only somewhat fine dress Katniss Everdeen possessed laid on her bed, and all she could do was stare at it. Her finest garment from her mother for the singular most anticipated for day of the year- not only for her, but for all those unlucky enough to be in the Districts rather than the Capitol. The light blue fabric felt wrong on her skin, it clung too close for comfort. The collar itched, the sleeves billowed. Her dark hair was tied up too tightly in a manner unlike her. It was strange- strange and wrong to be dressing up for the sake of a game all about death, perhaps hers if that slip of paper bore her name. Or worse, her sisters.

Primrose stood by the mirror next to her older sister, cheeks already streaked with tears. “Hush, little dove. It won’t be you. It’s your first year.” Katniss’ words of comfort were there to reassure her sister, her mother, and herself. But there was logic to it, right? Out of all the names in that bowl, the universe would have to be particularly spiteful to pick Prim’s.

The treck to the Hall of Justice seemed like a funeral march. A prick of blood after standing in a long line and suddenly your fate was sealed without you knowing it yet. Katniss lost her sister amongst the crowd, only spotting her mother and Gale. What tiny bit of blood stolen from her fingertip stained her skirt just slightly. Primrose would be there somewhere, probably somewhere among her friends. She would find her later. An obnoxious tap on the microphone on the stage followed by a Capitol woman in an even more obnoxious outfit made all chatter cease. Thus, the reaping ceremony begun.

Katniss caught sight of her mother, her greyed face staring at her with an expression she couldn't quite place. The brunette was led onto the stage, and only know did she realise the full gravity of her situation. A part of her had resigned itself to the idea of having met her fate, knowing her chances of survival would be low. Sure, she was well-trained in hunting, but hunting fellow humans was another thing entirely. She would have to stomach it, however, if she wanted to be given a chance to survive. A wave of overwhelming emotions crashed all at once and settled as she looked across the many faces in the crowd, among them her struck sister with tear-stained cheeks, puffy and rosy with distress. Katniss knew she would have to be calm and collected - if not for her survival then for Prim. She reluctantly shook Effie's hand when she offered it, or rather instructed it, facing the crowd once more. Another tribute still needed to be picked, one who would fight alongside her and eventually against her. "And the male tribute is..." The Capitol woman rustled the pieces of paper before picking one at random. "Peeta Mellark!" The name was familiar in Katniss' mind, and she turned to the mass of people once more. A small ring surrounded a golden-haired boy, and she recognised him. The baker's son. The one who had tossed her that piece of bread when she was caught in the rain.

( @bakersboywiththebread )

All at once it seemed the Districts collectively went quiet. A sombre tone lurked, heavy and all-enveloping, as a fog with no visible end nor beginning. It seemed like a joke. The only somewhat fine dress Katniss Everdeen possessed laid on her bed, and all she could do was stare at it. Her finest garment from her mother for the singular most anticipated for day of the year- not only for her, but for all those unlucky enough to be in the Districts rather than the Capitol. The light blue fabric felt wrong on her skin, it clung too close for comfort. The collar itched, the sleeves billowed. Her dark hair was tied up too tightly in a manner unlike her. It was strange- strange and wrong to be dressing up for the sake of a game all about death, perhaps hers if that slip of paper bore her name. Or worse, her sisters.

Primrose stood by the mirror next to her older sister, cheeks already streaked with tears. “Hush, little dove. It won’t be you. It’s your first year.” Katniss’ words of comfort were there to reassure her sister, her mother, and herself. But there was logic to it, right? Out of all the names in that bowl, the universe would have to be particularly spiteful to pick Prim’s.

The treck to the Hall of Justice seemed like a funeral march. A prick of blood after standing in a long line and suddenly your fate was sealed without you knowing it yet. Katniss lost her sister amongst the crowd, only spotting her mother and Gale. What tiny bit of blood stolen from her fingertip stained her skirt just slightly. Primrose would be there somewhere, probably somewhere among her friends. She would find her later. An obnoxious tap on the microphone on the stage followed by a Capitol woman in an even more obnoxious outfit made all chatter cease. Thus, the reaping ceremony begun.

The 'special' video from the Capitol in commemoration of that year's Hunger Games only made Katniss' blood boil. The same meaningless words repeated every single year by their very own President Snow, highlighting the origins of this deathly tradition. To remind people of the war, all that suffering, all that rebelling; So many lives lost, and somehow even more suffering was the way forward. Monetised, capitalised, made into a piece of entertainment to be consumed by those who did not have to worry about partaking in the games. The brunette remained silent amongst the crowd, all standing still with anticipation. Her eyes carefully followed the slip of paper drawn from one of the glass jars, praying in her mind that neither her nor her sister would be chosen. Then it happened- Primrose's name was read aloud. Stuck in a state of disbelief with her mouth slightly agape, her head turned to her younger sister's small frame being beckoned to go up onto the stage. "Prim! Prim!" Katniss slipped through the crowd, face to face with the peacekeepers who blocked her path. They resisted, pushing her. "I volunteer- I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" Her voice sounded more similar to that of a bird, screeching, desperate to protect her kin. The many eyes that held that pitying gaze, once looking at the young Everdeen, shifted to look at her. What did they expect, she thought to herself. There was no way she would let her sister be slaughtered on a screen all for some show. Effie Trinket's expression morphed into one that resembled surprise combined with excitement. The prospect of a volunteer was not one that introduced itself often. "I believe we have a volunteer!"

Mystery Of Bucharest

( @swordfiles - CLOSED RP )

“Oh come on, you’re kidding me…” Helena muttered under her breath with her microphone muted during a meeting with some fellow S.H.I.E.L.D agents and their boss, Nick Fury. Her slender fingers drummed against her desk, trying to disguise the obvious look of disappointment in her face; The crease in her forehead, the slightly raised eyebrows, the look in her eyes that sent daggers flying through the air if eyes and looks could kill. 

Looking at the calendar - or rather plan of sorts - set out in front of her on the screen, she wanted to roll her eyes. The meeting was dragging on for all of the solo agents it seemed, and it was clear their upcoming months weren’t going to be that eventful. Now, that may sound wrong, since who the hell would want disasters or acts of terror to happen just to be able to do their job and have something to do? It wasn’t that, it was more that, well… Helena knew she’d have to resort to some very long-term technological work in that division for a while, ‘cause for once there were almost too many people on one job. Even after the last train wreck the world had been through with the UN attack and the whole Winter Soldier ordeal that seemed to be firing up in the media.

No way in hell could she just take a seat, lean back and work in another division for a little while. She liked keeping her pace, keeping her solo agent work. When her mind seemed to think back to the Winter Soldier ordeal, an idea popped up in her mind. And she knew she had to act on it. Both for her own sanity, for her job and maybe to try and one-up that one Captain Rogers who had been rumoured to be set on finding the soldier. 

So, by capturing loose thread and various leads, Helena was on a good track and found a lot of witness testimonies that had a connection; All to one place. And there she was on a street in Bucharest.

-

Getting used to a somewhat normal life as a civilian wasn’t exactly an easy task; At least not when having a past of basically being a killing robot used by a Nazi organisation. When trying to pick a place that was good enough to try and build up a foundation for a steady and anything else than abnormal life, there were many things to think of and many questions to ask. The where, what, why and when. Somewhere off grid, but not too obviously off-grid so it could be a place somewhere would look and try and find him. Somewhere with people, a few too many, so there were a few too many to be able to blend in with. Somewhere he wouldn’t easily be singled out as the odd man out. So, Bucky chose Bucharest.

Barnes’ days were spent trying to get his life somewhat together, even though things weren’t looking amazing just yet. Who was he kidding- Things were looking shitty, and that’s how it was. The dirty mattress on the floor that he’d found dumped at some dumpsite, the cramped kitchen and the foggy windows. He was living in a shit-hole. But it was his, and he didn’t exactly have any other bigger or better places to go. Besides, he’d been through worse. He’d seen worse. Lived worse.

Bucky did his usual morning routine of making sure every lock worked and making sure his stash of items that were left beneath some floorboards were still there, all stuffed in a backpack. In it were general supplies, but even maps of the sewers and escape routes; Just in case.

Locking the door to his apartment, he kept his face down, adjusting his cap as he walked down the narrow hall to the stairwell. He was so focused on making sure no one really could get a good look at him that he bumped into a stranger’s shoulder on accident. “Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-”

Helena double-checked that her gun was loaded- just in case, of course. Making sure there were enough rounds, the silencer was on, that it couldn’t be seen beneath her jacket. It was all one big routine and habit, a good one too when it came to her line of work and career choice.  She hadn’t always wanted to be an agent, it was a bit of a sudden thing for her. She couldn’t explain it, but after university and after getting her degrees, something had flipped. A switch had been nagged with in her head and mind, and suddenly she felt as if that was the right job for her. It took work - Hell, a lot of it - But she knew what she was fighting for; A better place for those people in the world who deserved it to be a better place.

Maybe coming from a family with a mother who was in an infamous criminal group that was involved in many illegal activities drove her even more to have that will to fight, that urge, that natural adrenaline that could keep her going, as long as she knew where her goal was. She and her mother were obviously different in many ways, their paths in life clearly being one big difference between the two. Despite that fact, they had some similarities too. Helena could remember her mum being a workaholic, back when she didn’t know exactly what her profession was. There was never a day she didn’t have tired bags under her eyes, never a day she didn’t leave early and come home late only to sleep and start the same routine again. Her daughter ended up the same way, but using this hardworking nature elsewhere and for something better, a better cause.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she tugged down at the sleeves of her brown jacket, adjusting the hems as she hopped out of a bus, making sure to pay in cash so no one could trace her back to that vehicle. Her eyes flickered to the many people roaming the street, the different faces- the unfamiliar faces. Helena had worked missions in many place, but she couldn’t quite recall a place that seemed similar to Bucharest. That city seemed to be its own thing, but it had that familiar taste to it anyway. Like it wasn’t too hard to fade into the scene, which was exactly what she needed. Especially if she wanted to miss the attention of a certain Steve Rogers, who she knew most likely had gotten to the same leads she had. And once she spotted a familiar face in the sea of strangers, she knew she was in for it.

-

Days were always heavy in Bucharest, along with the foggy, polluted air. The city always stayed the same, never had that same spontaneous nature like New York or some other big city. It often felt like cities were alive in some way, but that area in Bucharest the ex-soldier found himself residing in felt barely alive. Rather it felt like a decaying place, half-ruins of buildings, tangled skylines, half-rotten trees, muggers and thieves waiting to strike at every market. But despite it all, he knew it was the place he had the biggest chance of even having a chance. A chance to just be a bit normal. Or act like it at least. The sky always seemed to be so damn dreary in that city Bucky now called home- Or rather had to call home.

Though he thought escaping and getting a small apartment would ease himself a little, the nightmares never stopped. The repeated images of bloody scenes with his bloody hands never left his mind. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t run away from those shitty nightmares. Hell, he was barely getting any sleep due to it, due to being afraid of shutting his eyes for just one moment. His super-soldier enhancements did help him with not having to sleep as much as the usual human being was required to, but it was getting to the point where it was unhealthy- Even for him.  Bucky often felt like just giving up at times, giving himself up to the world. Letting them have their fun, just so he could let go. He often pondered about if the world - or anyone at all - would be able to forgive him. Though a glimmer of hope sometimes did want to shine through, he only let himself be enveloped deeper into his own darkness.

As his shoulder collided with the stranger’s, he instinctively took a light hold of their arm, making sure the person didn’t fall or lose their balance. When Bucky looked up to see their face - her face - he felt like all thoughts in his head were put on hold. His bottom lip trembled a bit for a moment, there was something about her that was so familiar, just on the tip of his tongue. Her voice, her name- Was he imagining things?  He had to shake himself out of the trance. “Uhh, I’m James- Most people call me Bucky though.” He reached to shake her hand with his gloved one, and it seemed like his mind was just loading, recalling whatever the hell it was trying to recall.

Steve knew exactly what he was doing. He was tracking down his best friend. He couldn’t let a rogue SHIELD agent get involved. So that’s what he was going to get rid of first.

Not in the sinister way of course. He was would just deter her from stealing this from him again. He couldn’t lose Bucky. Not again. He wouldn’t let himself go through this again. He knew that his heart couldn’t stand it. He knew that things weren’t the most peaceful. It couldn’t be all rainbows and butterflies. It was just reality and reality wasn’t all happy. It was his strange reality that he couldn’t seem to escape.

Sometimes he found himself wondering if it was worth it to get close to people when all that happened was loss, hidden tears and pain. Sometimes he found himself thinking- day dreaming about a simpler life. A life where there was no pain or suffering. A life where he could live in peace. Or maybe no life at all. He stood in a difficult position- a position he never thought he would be in. He never really thought that he would lose his best friend, the love of his life AND get frozen- then wake up- lose the love of his life again- and realize that his best friend had been frozen too and was alive. There were a lot of things in his life that he didn’t quite understand, but standing in Bucharest, he couldn’t help but understand a bit better.

He needed to get to Helena though. He recognized her from a mile away. He could’ve anyway- he knew all the agents of SHIELD- rogue or other wise- and he just wanted to do all of this in peace.

“Agent.” He approached the young woman slowly with his shield in his hand, slightly dropped by his side but ready in hand just in case things went sideways. “It looks like we both followed the same trail.”

-

Carman was in Bucharest because it was genuinely quiet. She didn’t want to know about what was going on. If the avengers were off destroying whatever it was that they were destroying- she wasn’t going to be their clean up crew anymore. She was tired of living in fear and responsibility. She was disgusted by herself and letting herself get to that point. She was gloomy. Awfully gloomy.

She knew exactly who he was. Those bright eyes of his and dark hair… she couldn’t miss him for the world and there was just something about his soul that screamed pain. Something about his soul that was broken, battered and torn. As a deity, she was taught to recognize broken souls… but she could tell by the simple pain in his eyes and the fact that he was alive meant that he must’ve gone through a lot. She thought that he was dead- but she needed to take it slow. Maybe it wasn’t him- maybe it was a doppelgänger- maybe it was someone who looked incredibly like him-

Ok that wasn’t likely. Especially now that he had said his name. “Bucky.” She repeated his name gently under her breath as she thought for a moment. She wondered genuinely if she should tell him who she actually was… that she knew him. That she had adored him in a time before.

But she decided against him and instead she smiled ever so slightly. “Its nice to finally meet my neighbor.” She felt stupid. She felt like everything that she had put into her heart was… gone. Because he hadn’t recognized her name, her heart shattered once more.

It wasn’t his fault. Or at least that’s what she was telling herself. She didn’t look the same as she was so many years ago. But she had the same name. She had the same name as she did so many years ago… so many lives ago and she wondered if he would remember her eventually.

Maybe he would. There was a bit of hope in usually stoic expression. It wasn’t something that happened often… just ask Steve and he would know.

“I have lived here for a while. I’ve never seen you around.”

Making sure the green bag slung over her shoulder wasn’t slipping off, Helena grabbed ahold of it as she manouvered herself away from the bus and into Bucharest’s crowd of a population. She tugged down at her beige cap, eyes focused on her target, which was a specific apartment complex. And even better a specific number. She was lucky to grab ahold of the lead that led her there, and the lead did seem quite trustworthy based on the information she’d gathered. And it made her job a lot easier when having just one flat to focus on- For then she wouldn’t risk making a scene. Or at least not a as huge of a scene. Not yet.

When spotting Steve and that goddamn stripey and spangled shield, Helena knew it would be tough making an escape from his attention. After all, they were both agents, trained to get a mission done. With as little interference from others as possible. And she doubted it would be easy to get to the soldier before the Captain. It added just another fight to her mission, though she doubted it would end in a physical altercation. Or at least she didn’t hope so.

They both technically worked for the same people, but now with the Sokovia Accords seeming to split everyone apart, it felt as if there was no big team of people anymore. Not much information had been given about the accords just yet - or more specifically what was to happen with them - and it seemed a lot of people were feeling misplaced. Such as Helena. She didn’t know what to feel about the accords, but she knew that she still had a job to do, even if she’d gone a bit rogue with it. Someone had to track Barnes down, especially if a specific someone else was going to try and take him before he could face an interrogation for what happened at the UN meeting. She had to admit, something about the attack seemed… off, off in another way. But she didn’t quite know how to place it.

Helena found herself at a more hidden entrance to the flat building, about to head in, when a voice from behind her interrupted her. With a quirked eyebrow, she turned around swiftly and placed her hands in her innerpocket where her gun was. Just in case. “Captain. Not a surprise to see you here.” She admitted. “And it seems the trail has gotten too thin for the both of us to be on it, huh?”

-

It annoyed him. It bugged him. It went at him for what felt like an eternity, when in reality it was simply a few, mere moments. Why couldn’t Bucky place what it was about his neighbor that made something in his head tingle? He was an efficient agent, a trained soldier, a former robot who had been built to handle all tasks possible with an impeccable memory. Yet his neighbor was the one to make him scratch the back of his neck as he could only dwell.

There was just something about her. Something in the look of her eyes. Something about her voice and the way she spoke. Her name. Carman. That’s when it clicked for him, though he knew it wasn’t supposed to click. That name connected to a certain Carman he knew- Who he used to know. Someone who had held such a large meaning to him, someone he held so dear, someone he genuinely let in and cared about… But that person was long gone. Or supposed to be long gone at least. His mind seemed to set him back to a string of memories including his Carman from his past. And people had the same names, it was just a weird coincidence. A coincidence that made him yearn for those days before everything.

Bucky often thought back to the time where he didn’t have as much to worry about; Which was quite funny, since back then he felt like it couldn’t really get worse than that. The drenches, the fights, the hurting. He never knew it could get worse than that. But there he was, after everything. Still somewhat in one piece.

He felt guilty. He felt guilty for having this neighbor have to watch his hands tremble a bit at his sides, which they rarely ever did. Watch him as he obviously had an expression of blankness, not knowing what to say or think. Life was weird. Bucky knew that much. Could it be? Could it be her?

“I was just about to say that too- Don’t feel like I’ve seen you before either.” Bucky chuckled a bit sheepishly, trying to shake away that strong deja vu. “I moved her not too long ago, so wouldn’t be weird if I haven’t bumped into everyone around here.”

He was captain America. He was pretty much unstoppable and having Bucky by his side would definitely help with all of the pain that he had gone through. He knew that he needed to get Bucky back… he needed to get his damn best friend back because he genuinely didn’t know if he could do anything without that man knowing that he was alive and kind of well. He didn’t know much, but what he did know was that he didn’t want SHIELD or the government getting ahold of him.

He didn’t want Bucky to get hurt again and he would do absolutely everything in his power to keep that from happening. He was genuine when he was thinking about that. There wasn’t a day that went by that Bucky wasn’t on his mind. That man was always his best friend, before everything, after everything and now. They would forever be friends.

They’d be with each other til the end of the line. Steve would make sure of that.

He wouldn’t make it easy for Helena to get to Bucky. In fact, if she even tried, he would definitely make her time of trying a living hell even if that meant that he was a fugitive of justice. After all… he was a fugitive of justice more than once before. He wasn’t afraid of the government. He wasn’t afraid of SHIELD or Nick Fury. He wasn’t scared.

He was determined to get his goddamn friend back. And he wasn’t going to lose his best friend again. Not til the end of the line.

Here was the issue. He was in the middle of the accords, in the middle of being an avenger, the middle of being America’s armor… and the middle of being the best friend that he always knew that he needed to be. He needed to be the guy that could help Bucky with everything that he had. Everything that he had left. He needed to make sure that he preserved the things that he loved. He just couldn’t lose anyone else anymore.

“Its honestly not a surprise to see you here either,” he said softly as his dark blue eyes scanned the streets. “I think we’re here for the same thing aren’t we?” he said gruffly with a sigh.

-

There was a slight nod that came from her. In all honesty she was at a loss for words. She was speechless and her mind was truly blank. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him. Her heart broke more and more every single time she thought about him- every day that went by was a day that she thought of him. There was no night when she didn’t go to bed and think about her dear Bucky… when they would come out of the war… she would’ve told him she loved him. But during the war she didn’t want to burden him with emotions.

He didn’t come out of the war.

And every single day- every single night since then she was plagued by thoughts of him. She was plagued by the screams of the war and the many days that she would attempt to comfort Steve and have him crying on her shoulder… she was plagued by nightmares. Every day for centuries, the pain of losing him was genuinely the biggest pain that she had ever experienced in any of her lives. So now that he was standing right in front of her… she wondered what she should do.

Should she tell him all the things that had gone through her mind? Or should she continue to pretend as though she didn’t know him? She didn’t want to lose him again… she couldn’t lose him again.

“I don’t come out of my apartment a lot… its a bit strange but I prefer the comfort of my own floor than any other floor.” It was true. Although she had moved quite a long time ago, she had refused to get many pieces of furniture in case she would have to move again. She often would wake up on the floor when she did sleep on a bed anyway… so she didn’t really need much furniture or a bed- or a mattress for that matter. Her smile was slight, a bit awkward as she looked back at him. “It was nice meeting you.”

There was a pause. She was considering holing herself back into her apartment before she would pack up her things and go, not letting herself get attached again. But… she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave him. “Hey uh Bucky- did you want to get a cup of coffee or something?” She regretted it the minute she said it. She wanted to run and hide… but she couldn’t. Not now.

Helena knew when to meddle things and when not to. Most people did, by using their common sense, obviously. She was usually more careful with covering up her tracks and making sure she wouldn’t hit any problems along the way, but with this specific mission she knew that wasn’t going to be possible. To be honest, she knew she was a pain in the ass for Captain Rogers, but she was doing her job. 

Even if she’d gone a bit rogue about it.

And she didn’t want to be a pain in the ass. With everything going on with the UN, Wakanda’s murdered leader, the Winter Soldier, the Sokovia Accords, it seemed as if everything was walking into a path of chaos. Though the world always seemed to be chaotic, or at least always have a twinge of a sense of disorganisation, she knew things were starting to go really bad. It felt like the sense of justice was slowly decaying, and though details were fuzzy about a lot of things, she knew she had to do her job and do her best. That’s all she could do.

When Helena had realised S.H.I.E.L.D was simply letting German forces and polices get to Barnes instead, she was in no way going to have to trust them to do their job and just stand by as a member of an audience. It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in those forces, but she knew it would be too noisy and too risky. She knew she could do it, making sure to have back-up with her. She did feel sympathy for Steve though, it was hard not to. From what she’d gathered, those two had been through quite a lot together. And though it was hard not to give into her sympathetic feelings, she knew she had to at least get the guy caught and interrogated. Give the government a chance of clearing things up.

But she would be lying if she said it wasn’t just a bit fun to piss Rogers off during the whole ordeal.

“Or rather, someone.” Helena retorted in a mild tone of voice, glancing down at the watch on her wrist. She knew she only had a certain amount of time before the GSF would get their hands dirty too, and that time had to be spent wisely. “Listen, I don’t want it to end up like this. But it’s work, I do what I do, you do what you do. And I’m guessing you’re going to want to stand in my way, so I’ll have to stand in yours.”

38 seconds ‘til she had to enter.

-

Thinking back to the war was never quite… pleasant. Though Bucky knew the friendships he’d gained with the Howling Commando’s had been a pro to all the many cons, there were still cons enough to outweigh any pros there ever could have been. Maybe the beginning war had actually been the easiest part- Since what had really messed him up was everything that occurred in between and after. 

The war itself gave him flashbacks enough. Blood-soaked uniforms, broken dog tags, disgusting drenches. It hurt enough to be there himself, but what was worse was when his best friend just had to get himself into it too. And though he knew they both were just men, trying to do something good for their country and offer their service, he still didn’t want Steve there.

War was a place where the friends you made were quickly lost in one way or the other, though death was by far the worst abductor. And no way in hell did he want to have to watch Steve sacrifice himself for the war, but it seemed like Bucky had been the one to get the tough, uneasy road when Hydra got to him and dug their claws into him.  Even more blood-soaked uniforms. Shattered name-tags that he had broken. The endless testing and brainwashing. It was all so much worse and so much harder to forget.

It seemed like the only thing that kept him going was the faint memories that at times came to him. As a fog and a haze, just barely there, always slipping through the gaps between his fingers when he tried to grasp it. And in that fog was Carman. Before his Hydra days he’d been planning to confess something important to her after he could return home from the war, tell her how much she truly meant to him. But any ideas of that were quickly ripped from him. In all senses, and he was just left to his haze and his confusion, though much more stuff was coming back to him.

Such as Steve. Such as Carman.

“No, no, I get it. I’m pretty much the same.” Bucky smiled a bit sheepishly and awkwardly, hoping he didn’t seem to out of it. It was as if his mind was constantly switching between memories he was recalling and the face in front of him, who, despite not matching the one in his blurred collection of moments, still had a twinge of familiarity to it. The name. The voice. He didn’t know what to make of it.

And she only seemed more distinct when she said his name. “Oh, uhh, sure. I’d like that.”

She was definitely being a pain to him in that moment and he kind of hated it. He wished that there would be some kind of path of least resistance- but there wasn’t. He knew that the special forces were going to move in soon, and he needed to get in there before they did so Bucky wouldn’t kill anyone accidentally. That wouldn’t look good for Bucky. That wouldn’t look good for any of them really. “You know that we want the same person- but for different reasons,” he said as he glanced over at the young woman with his dark blue eyes. “We can go in there together or go in there separately and make this much more complicated for the two of us.” It was genuinely upsetting that SHIELD had given orders to get through to Bucky. Or maybe they didn’t honestly at this point he had no idea what was going on. “But if we go in there separately you’re not going to get him.”

It wasn’t his pride talking. Its the fact that he knew Bucky and he had a feeling that things would go his way in that point of time. There was just something that told him that no matter what happened, Bucky would be okay. “The special forces are going to move in so either we do this together or you’re going to have to let this one go.” His tone was firm- serious. He wasnt going to play around with this one as he watched carefully. He had less than ten seconds. Less than ten seconds to make sure that Bucky was ok- alive and well. He had less than ten seconds to make sure the man had a warning or something- and he couldn’t think anymore.

He needed to act fast.

That was the thing about being a hero after all. It was something that he needed to learn. He needed to learn how to trust his instincts and he honestly learned that in the war. He learned that he needed to trust his gut- and right now his gut was telling him to wait for a response from the girl before doing anything else.

-

Carman could sense that there was something wrong. As a person who had lived through centuries of strife, war, pain… she learned that to escape her fears she would need to face them. To face them, she would need to be able to detect them. And to detect them she would need to be able to read the room. The room was not clear as of this moment and the way that she felt about it was unsettling. She cleared her throat slightly, looking around as a silence struck her and her body became rigid. “I might have to call a rain check on that coffee,” she said as she looked back at Bucky with a small smile. “I think we have company.”

She wanted to be as frank with him as possible without scaring him. She knew that he had been through quite a lot but she wanted to stick with him. She wanted to stick together with him because she couldn’t bare the idea of losing him again. She would protect him at all costs. If that meant having to get involved in this whole thing with the avengers, she would. She would trade up her life of peace for a life of chaos.

For him.

She took a gentle and slow breath. There was something about this all that was throwing her off. There was an energy inside the building- a threatening energy and it was one that she couldn’t shake away, one that followed her wherever she went… but this time it was different. She heard a creak come from a corner and her eyes widened slightly, her hands going up immediately, glowing a bright beautiful dark purple color. “I hope i’m not freaking you out- but you need to get behind me- or at least next to me.” The last time she had used her magic was… a while ago. She had used it on Bucky once to heal a gunshot would and made him vow not to tell anyone- and she had used it to reverse a building from falling- that kind of stuff really came in handy if she ever wanted to be the clean up crew again. She shifted her feet slightly feeling for any kind of vibration on the ground. “We got company and lots of them-“

Helena watched as in the distance she could see some vans and cars with a familiar corporation name painted in white on the blue vehicles. GSF. The special forces were most certainly going to take their chance before either on of the two could if they wasted more time. She did feel guilty for having to reel a person back to S.H.I.E.L.D, but that was the thing; She wanted to do it with as little harm done as possible. And though she knew it was only her job and she couldn't meddle her own feelings or ethics, apart from her work ethics, into the mission, she still wanted to do it with a little of a mess as possible. With as few casualties at possible. Which was why she'd gone rogue instead of letting the German forces get to the ex-soldier first with that specific order of 'shoot on sight' and with no challenges other than the fight they automatically were up against.

And she knew Steve was right. They had a better chance as two parties instead of three. It was the only logical decision.

With a sigh, she glanced down at her watch once more, beckoning for him to follow her inside and move quickly up the stairwell. There was no working elevator, and stairs were the fastest option up anyway, and they really needed a fast option. "I don't like admitting other people are right, but I'll give you this one, Rogers." Helena said, making sure to get her gun out of her holster and be more wary of her surroundings.

From what she understood, they were on the right floor, and she stood still as she saw none other than Barnes himself in the hallway with someone else. Someone else with some kind of non-human abilities, and that was certainly something she hadn't expected for that mission. She'd - No, they'd - have to just go along with it and adjust. Compromise to their surroundings if they were going to get a chance at anything.

"You know him best. He'll listen to you."

Before Helena knew it, sounds of broken shards of glass could be heard coming from the bottom and top of the stairwell. Shit.

-

In the midst of a conversation, Bucky found himself off-guard. And shit was that a bad thing. After his past, after his thorough training, after all those missions and challenges, he knew not to ever stay off-guard. Especially not at a time like that, where he was a runaway criminal being searched for globally. His face was starting to get plastered every where along with sightings, he knew things wouldn't stay quiet for long. He knew his short-lived serenity couldn't last for long. Yet he'd been caught off-guard, and for a moment he wonder if his new acquaintance, Carman, was in on something.

Those thoughts were quickly wisked away as he saw her expression, clearly concerned as well by the change of atmosphere. Bucky seemed to close off once more, now only focused on what was going on around him. Footsteps could be heard from the rooftop as well as outside, those footsteps not trying to be concealed or quiet, unlike the ones he could just manage to catch from the stairwell. Just at his floor. Just near his flat.

He knew that meant one thing. Two groups were after him, most likely the authorities or government, and the other could belong to anyone else. He didn't know, and to be frank, he didn't want time to know. He had to get the hell out of there, no harm done. That was maybe the worst part; For he truly didn't want to hurt anyone, he didn't want any fights, he wanted to be left alone. But clearly it was too much to ask for, and wether there was sound reason for it or not, it was what he yearned for. Peace and quiet. Well, maybe not always. He wasn't good at the whole peace and quiet thing.

And he knew one other thing. He didn't want to drag Carman into this.

As Bucky looked towards her, his eyes widened at the sight of purple sparks grew from her palms, a strong glow emitting from them. He then realised it, realised what he hadn't dared to even think earlier. It was her. Her. But he didn't have much time to think much of it- Not yet. He'd have to get out of that mess first, then he could start talking. "God, why the hell does it always have to be a fight..." Barnes muttered, slipping of his glove as he looked down to his cold, metal hand. He didn't want blood on it. Not again.

The Maze

( @a-adventurer, CLOSED RP)

It all felt sudden.  Every movement, every thought, every breath, every loud, blaring noise. It was odd- Just knowing something started so suddenly, yet not knowing if it had begun before one’s notice. That’s what was in Helena’s mind to say the least. The unavoidable sound of an alarm, squeaky hinges and metal banging against metal made her head ache even more than it already was. She fought to get air into her lungs, trying to stand on her feet, but her balance couldn’t keep her up. She was moving. The contraption she was stuck in was moving. She then took a moment to think, think of anything she could remember; For example an answer to how the hell she ended up in some sort of frightening and dark elevator. But everything was blank, just blank. She reached for loose threads in her mind, grasping for anything at all, but there was nothing but darkness that simply mirrored the one she found herself enveloped in.

While banging on the metal bars, so hard and desperately that her hands were getting bruised and bloody, Helena tried to scream. But her voice didn’t give in, and it was more like a small croak of a voice. She felt the true, unsettling panic begin to set in, that feeling of truly having no sense of orientation whatsoever. Like being a goldfish, placed from a small bowl to the ocean. But she couldn’t adjust, for how much was there to adjust to? What was she even adjusting from? Her heartbeat quickened even more as she felt the contraption halt, and she fell limp in the corner. For a moment she thought she was destined to stay captured, stuck there for ever in some hole; Despite that, her thoughts were disproved as she saw a hatch over her starting to open, rays of sunshine peaking into the box.

Thomas felt his back sink against the tree, the harsh bark of it contrasting to his warm and sun-sick skin beneath his shirt. He rubbed his head and his temples, a deep sigh escaping his lips. Even though he was getting at least a bit used to the Glade, he still couldn’t quite fathom everything. Yeah, he somewhat understood the basics, but what nagged at him was that once trying to delve into the deeper, more intriguing questions, then everything was left with a large question mark. The questions like who and why. The most important ones that he wanted answered- That he knew everyone most likely wanted answered. It all hurt his head when he thought too much about it. And though everyone around him, everyone in the group of boys, everyone in charge, told him to just try and get the best out of their situation and not think too much about it, it just worsened things.

He had to admit they could be right. After all, nights at the fire with his new friends or whatever they hell were could be surprisingly nice and fun. Time to let loose, try to let go, even though he hadn’t had much time to think of exactly what they were letting loose from. But he felt the stress buried beneath them all, that sinking sand everyone experienced and tried, to a certain degree, to not let get the best of them. The sound of an only somewhat familiar blaring alarm caught his attention immediately, and once he saw everyone gathering, following them quickly, he could only guess he wasn’t going to be the greenie anymore.

The sunlight, that both seemed to suddenly and gradually creep into the odd box contraption Helena was stuck in, annoyed her eyes as she let them adjust, quickly looking for something to defend herself with. There were only large boxes with what seemed like resources and other materials, and that caught her attention for a moment. Those things were clearly for, well, living. Food, clothes, water, so on and so forth. Where the hell was she going? Where the hell was she now? Or before?

Helena looked up and saw a group of people- Seemingly all male except for one female. She felt her heartbeat only quicken once more; After all, she had no idea what these peoples intentions were. Shit, she didn’t know anything at all. Not even her name or who she was in general. Well, there seemed to be a few pieces up somewhere in her head, but it was all just jumbled into a big, unrecognisable mess. She had to deal with it later though. “Who the hell are you people and why the hell am I here!” Helena kept to her corner in the box, voice hoarse and clearly weak from not being used before. What was here. She just needed answers. 

Thomas almost felt a surge of nostalgia, a feeling of deja vu washing over him as he heard that blaring, loud alarm that echoed across the Glade, bouncing off of the four concrete walls. Those stone walls that were already getting tiring- Tiring enough at least. He sometimes felt as if he was the person who felt most urgently about getting out. He knew everyone did what they did, kept their routine, tended to the place they called their home, because that’s all they could do. Thats all they all could do. And he respected that, but he found simply couldn’t let go of it all- Whatever the hell that was anyway.

He took a few steps towards the crowd, watching as they peered their heads into the box. Something seemed to surprise them and send waves of mumbles and whispers to each other, and he found himself pushing a bit forward to get a look at the Greenie. Thomas found a place next to Scarlett and Alby, eyebrows shot up ina look of surprise as he saw the newbie- Another girl. “Huh, seems you’ll have a new friend.” He said to Scarlett.

Scarlett waited until the box had come up, getting that familiar feeling of being in the box too. The panicked feeling of having no idea who you were, how you got there or even where you were going. Scarlett still wondered what were beyond those four stone walls. She had asked in the past but no one would give her an answer. So she didn’t ask again. But she still wondered. 

Scarlett stepped forward to peek inside the box, eyebrows also raising in surprise when she saw that there was another girl. At least she wouldn’t be the only girl anymore. “Yeah.” she nodded at Thomas. Poor girl.. she looked terrified. Just like she was. And the Greenies after her. 

“Another girl.” Newt commented after opening the metal gate with Alby’s help. Surprised murmurs erupted through the crowd, until Alby told them to be quiet. Newt looked down at the Greenie. “Welcome to the Glade, greenie.” he said. “Grab onto my hand and we’ll get you out.” 

Newt had lost count of how many times he had said that phrase over the two years he had been stuck in here. He wasn’t the first one to arrive, Alby was, but he arrived after Minho did. Pushing those thoughts out of his head, turning his attention back to the Greenie, the new girl. “Alby will explain everything, alright?” 

Helena backed up against the wall as she watched many heads peer down into the box, making obvious comments about her and she caught a few names in between their bustling conversation. From what she could see, it seemed to be an all boy group except for one other girl, and she was already a bit, if not very, intimidated. But at least she wasn’t the only one.

“Alby? Who’s Alby?” She questioned, cautiously taking the stranger’s hand as he welcomed her to- That was another question she had. “And what the hell is the Glade?” Her head pounded with the amount of questions bombarding her brain as she got pulled out of the box, and once she got a view of the place she had been put in, she got silent. Four stone walls, covering each side, and four openings. She didn’t get it. She didn’t know if there was anything to get.

Thomas tried to ignore the group’s comments, some ranging from friendly and just welcoming to borderline weird or a bit offensive. He knew what it felt like to sit down there and feel as if you missed the punchline of a joke, and that joke and punchline is your future life. They had all been through that. And he began thinking about how all the others had reacted when first arriving to the glade. Especially the first person: Alby. Or the first girl: Scarlett.

He watched as they pulled the new Greenie out of the box, helping Frypan and some others load out the boxes of resources and whatnot: Including a new hammock. “It’ll be fine, she’ll be fine.” Thomas looked to Scarlett, who he could tell was feeling sympathy for the girl. He did too, of course, but he knew it was best to quiet things down until she could get a chance to get used to it all.

Newt pulled her out of the box, vaguely hearing Alby telling the others to back up and give the Greenie space. He ignored the chatter from the other Gladers. He looked at Alby who stepped forward. “The glade is where we live.” he said. “Follow me, I’ll give you a tour.” Newt watched as the other boys started to unload the box with the supplies they got every month. “Get back to work, everyone.” Newt said, using his power as second in command. The crowd slowly dispersed except for the boys who were still unloading the supplies. 

“Follow me.” Alby said to Helena before walking. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked. Sometimes Greenie remembered their names quickly but it usually took a day or two. “I’m Alby.” Newt had gone back to the gardens with the other track-hoes until he was needed else where. 

Scarlett nodded, “Yeah, she will.” she said. Well, she hoped. “Well, I better go help Frypan with the supplies. I’ll see you later Thomas.” With that, she turned and walked to the kitchen, helping Frypan and the other cooks with the supplies. Scarlett was curious about the newbie, the new girl. 

Gally would pop in soon, to get whatever he needed for his ‘special brew’ which he was still secretive about. The runners would also be back soon since the doors closed at night. And thank heavens they did because of the Grievers. Scarlett had never seen one but she never wanted to. 

Helena let the stranger pull her up from the box, instantly feeling the contrast between the cold, almost icy temperature down in the contraption compared to the warm rays of the sun. The sun. At least she could remember basic things, but anything personal seemed far away in her mind, yet also just on the tip of her tongue. As she listened to the stranger, she let her eyes wander, simply observing her surroundings. She knew she could try to run, but there was most likely no point. She would have to wait and listen.

“I’m sorry but- Whats that?” Helena asked, pointing at one of the four openings by the stone walls. She couldn’t quite see what was past those openings, it just seemed like… more walls. More barricades. Were they meant to be barricades? She shook her thoughts away and followed who she could guess to be the leader of sorts, trying to ignore the prying eyes that rested on her. “Nice to meet you… I- I can’t remember my name. I don’t know why.”

-

Thomas jumped into the box, lifting and pushing the boxes onto the green grass that bent beneath the weight. He made sure to count how many boxes there were, there were always the same amount, and though it wasn’t something to worry much about, he noticed something. There was one box less than there used to be. He found it odd, but what was he to think. Maybe it was a mistake. Or maybe he just didn’t want to put too much thought into it or interpret something that would scare him or anyone else.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” Thomas offered a short wave and a warm smile to Scarlett as he watched her leave. One of the only things he liked about the Glade was how close everyone was - or had to be. The teamwork and effort they all put in to keep things going was admirable, to say the least. They were a family. And he was thankful to have them, both those he was close with and those he wasn’t close with.

“Don’t worry about that.” Alby said as he walked away from the Box. He sent the other Gladers a quick glare before looking at Helena. “You’ll get your name back in a day or two. It’s the only thing they let us keep.” he muttered that last part to himself, shrugging his broad shoulders. 

“Anyway, here we’re self sufficient. We grow our own food and build our own shelter. Over there is the deadheads, feel free to hang out there in your free time or whatever. Then we have the kitchens and the gardens. Also the Med-jack hut.” he explained, not realising that the words might be weird to the new Greenie.  Scarlett helped unpack the supplies with Frypan, coounting what they got in terms of food that wasn’t vegetables. (They usually got seeds) One thing Scarlett loved working alongside Frypan was his humor. He was always making her laugh with his jokes or funny stories about the other Gladers. Scarlett giggled at one story, moving her long black hair out of her face. 

She saw Helena and Alby not that far from where the kitchen was, watching as Alby showed the Greenie around. A wave of deja vu washed over her as she remembered being in that similar position, just a few months ago. Scarlett watched them for a moment before turning back to whatever she was doing. 

Helena quirked an eyebrow at the quiet mention of a they, a thorough expression of confusion washing over her face, though she already found herself to be very lost and confused. Who was ‘they’? Did someone send her there? The temporary amnesia only made her head ache more and more with every second.

It scared her. Everything did. The fact that she couldn’t remember anything really important, no memories, nothing personal. It was as if the collection of moments she was supposed to have in her head were gone. She only knew the basics, all any human would know. She only hoped that it would come back to her soon. Everything, if she was lucky.

“Med-jack... Like, a medical area?” Helena asked, all the names buzzing around in her head. It was all so odd, but she knew she’d have to toughen up and just get used to it. Join whatever the hell of a group that lived in the Glade. Even if it was a bit nerve-wracking.

-

Thomas often wondered how long they’d be forced to stay. Obviously, they were supposed to find their way out, escape, but it hadn’t happened yet. It was like watching a sunset that never hit the horizon- And he often wondered if they truly ever were going to get out of there. He knew there was no point in being either too pessimistic or optimistic, it was all about keeping that balance of sanity.

But he dwelled on how many more could possibly be sent, how many until they would have no more supplies. Would it even ever stop? Maybe this was their punishment for not finding a way out yet; Forcing more people into the Glade. Maybe there was a deadline. He had no clue. And it seemed thinking didn’t make him too much wiser.

Thomas made his way to the Runner’s hut, trudging down the dirt path. With every greenie that arrived, with every new package that arrived, he only grew more eager to get out.

The Lab - Cheryl/Helena

helenabennet​:

“The trick is to, like….let it happen, let yourself be blown away, and then over time the feeling will dissipate,” Cheryl suggested to her younger colleague.  “When you see the guy in the office every single day, the novelty begins to wear off.  You stop seeing him as Super Famous Dude and more like The Guy I See In The Hall On The Way To the Cafeteria.”

She snickered at the flurry of activity happening around Tony.  “And the other suggestion is to just stay out of the ‘flurry’ of whatever’s going on,” she added, sipping her coffee.  “He’s Tony, he’s gonna have fans around him, and that’s OK.  You’ll get used to it.”  @helenabennet​

“Right- You’re right,” Helena nodded along to what Cheryl told her, almost mentally noting all this. “Like the magic starts to wear off and just... yeah, goes away. Maybe kind of like when kids find out Santa isn’t real.” She chuckled a bit.

She couldn’t help but notice how a lot of people seemed to fawn over Stark’s mere presence and existence in the shop, it was a bit amusing after all. And she couldn’t blame the way they acted, since she, herself, had been quite nervous but giddy at the same time too. “It just seems crazy getting weird to having a guy like Tony Stark around as your boss at work. At least right now it feels crazy.”

Mystery Of Bucharest

( @swordfiles - CLOSED RP )

“Oh come on, you’re kidding me…” Helena muttered under her breath with her microphone muted during a meeting with some fellow S.H.I.E.L.D agents and their boss, Nick Fury. Her slender fingers drummed against her desk, trying to disguise the obvious look of disappointment in her face; The crease in her forehead, the slightly raised eyebrows, the look in her eyes that sent daggers flying through the air if eyes and looks could kill. 

Looking at the calendar - or rather plan of sorts - set out in front of her on the screen, she wanted to roll her eyes. The meeting was dragging on for all of the solo agents it seemed, and it was clear their upcoming months weren’t going to be that eventful. Now, that may sound wrong, since who the hell would want disasters or acts of terror to happen just to be able to do their job and have something to do? It wasn’t that, it was more that, well… Helena knew she’d have to resort to some very long-term technological work in that division for a while, ‘cause for once there were almost too many people on one job. Even after the last train wreck the world had been through with the UN attack and the whole Winter Soldier ordeal that seemed to be firing up in the media.

No way in hell could she just take a seat, lean back and work in another division for a little while. She liked keeping her pace, keeping her solo agent work. When her mind seemed to think back to the Winter Soldier ordeal, an idea popped up in her mind. And she knew she had to act on it. Both for her own sanity, for her job and maybe to try and one-up that one Captain Rogers who had been rumoured to be set on finding the soldier. 

So, by capturing loose thread and various leads, Helena was on a good track and found a lot of witness testimonies that had a connection; All to one place. And there she was on a street in Bucharest.

-

Getting used to a somewhat normal life as a civilian wasn’t exactly an easy task; At least not when having a past of basically being a killing robot used by a Nazi organisation. When trying to pick a place that was good enough to try and build up a foundation for a steady and anything else than abnormal life, there were many things to think of and many questions to ask. The where, what, why and when. Somewhere off grid, but not too obviously off-grid so it could be a place somewhere would look and try and find him. Somewhere with people, a few too many, so there were a few too many to be able to blend in with. Somewhere he wouldn’t easily be singled out as the odd man out. So, Bucky chose Bucharest.

Barnes’ days were spent trying to get his life somewhat together, even though things weren’t looking amazing just yet. Who was he kidding- Things were looking shitty, and that’s how it was. The dirty mattress on the floor that he’d found dumped at some dumpsite, the cramped kitchen and the foggy windows. He was living in a shit-hole. But it was his, and he didn’t exactly have any other bigger or better places to go. Besides, he’d been through worse. He’d seen worse. Lived worse.

Bucky did his usual morning routine of making sure every lock worked and making sure his stash of items that were left beneath some floorboards were still there, all stuffed in a backpack. In it were general supplies, but even maps of the sewers and escape routes; Just in case.

Locking the door to his apartment, he kept his face down, adjusting his cap as he walked down the narrow hall to the stairwell. He was so focused on making sure no one really could get a good look at him that he bumped into a stranger’s shoulder on accident. “Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-”

Helena double-checked that her gun was loaded- just in case, of course. Making sure there were enough rounds, the silencer was on, that it couldn’t be seen beneath her jacket. It was all one big routine and habit, a good one too when it came to her line of work and career choice.  She hadn’t always wanted to be an agent, it was a bit of a sudden thing for her. She couldn’t explain it, but after university and after getting her degrees, something had flipped. A switch had been nagged with in her head and mind, and suddenly she felt as if that was the right job for her. It took work - Hell, a lot of it - But she knew what she was fighting for; A better place for those people in the world who deserved it to be a better place.

Maybe coming from a family with a mother who was in an infamous criminal group that was involved in many illegal activities drove her even more to have that will to fight, that urge, that natural adrenaline that could keep her going, as long as she knew where her goal was. She and her mother were obviously different in many ways, their paths in life clearly being one big difference between the two. Despite that fact, they had some similarities too. Helena could remember her mum being a workaholic, back when she didn’t know exactly what her profession was. There was never a day she didn’t have tired bags under her eyes, never a day she didn’t leave early and come home late only to sleep and start the same routine again. Her daughter ended up the same way, but using this hardworking nature elsewhere and for something better, a better cause.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she tugged down at the sleeves of her brown jacket, adjusting the hems as she hopped out of a bus, making sure to pay in cash so no one could trace her back to that vehicle. Her eyes flickered to the many people roaming the street, the different faces- the unfamiliar faces. Helena had worked missions in many place, but she couldn’t quite recall a place that seemed similar to Bucharest. That city seemed to be its own thing, but it had that familiar taste to it anyway. Like it wasn’t too hard to fade into the scene, which was exactly what she needed. Especially if she wanted to miss the attention of a certain Steve Rogers, who she knew most likely had gotten to the same leads she had. And once she spotted a familiar face in the sea of strangers, she knew she was in for it.

-

Days were always heavy in Bucharest, along with the foggy, polluted air. The city always stayed the same, never had that same spontaneous nature like New York or some other big city. It often felt like cities were alive in some way, but that area in Bucharest the ex-soldier found himself residing in felt barely alive. Rather it felt like a decaying place, half-ruins of buildings, tangled skylines, half-rotten trees, muggers and thieves waiting to strike at every market. But despite it all, he knew it was the place he had the biggest chance of even having a chance. A chance to just be a bit normal. Or act like it at least. The sky always seemed to be so damn dreary in that city Bucky now called home- Or rather had to call home.

Though he thought escaping and getting a small apartment would ease himself a little, the nightmares never stopped. The repeated images of bloody scenes with his bloody hands never left his mind. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t run away from those shitty nightmares. Hell, he was barely getting any sleep due to it, due to being afraid of shutting his eyes for just one moment. His super-soldier enhancements did help him with not having to sleep as much as the usual human being was required to, but it was getting to the point where it was unhealthy- Even for him.  Bucky often felt like just giving up at times, giving himself up to the world. Letting them have their fun, just so he could let go. He often pondered about if the world - or anyone at all - would be able to forgive him. Though a glimmer of hope sometimes did want to shine through, he only let himself be enveloped deeper into his own darkness.

As his shoulder collided with the stranger’s, he instinctively took a light hold of their arm, making sure the person didn’t fall or lose their balance. When Bucky looked up to see their face - her face - he felt like all thoughts in his head were put on hold. His bottom lip trembled a bit for a moment, there was something about her that was so familiar, just on the tip of his tongue. Her voice, her name- Was he imagining things?  He had to shake himself out of the trance. “Uhh, I’m James- Most people call me Bucky though.” He reached to shake her hand with his gloved one, and it seemed like his mind was just loading, recalling whatever the hell it was trying to recall.

Steve knew exactly what he was doing. He was tracking down his best friend. He couldn’t let a rogue SHIELD agent get involved. So that’s what he was going to get rid of first.

Not in the sinister way of course. He was would just deter her from stealing this from him again. He couldn’t lose Bucky. Not again. He wouldn’t let himself go through this again. He knew that his heart couldn’t stand it. He knew that things weren’t the most peaceful. It couldn’t be all rainbows and butterflies. It was just reality and reality wasn’t all happy. It was his strange reality that he couldn’t seem to escape.

Sometimes he found himself wondering if it was worth it to get close to people when all that happened was loss, hidden tears and pain. Sometimes he found himself thinking- day dreaming about a simpler life. A life where there was no pain or suffering. A life where he could live in peace. Or maybe no life at all. He stood in a difficult position- a position he never thought he would be in. He never really thought that he would lose his best friend, the love of his life AND get frozen- then wake up- lose the love of his life again- and realize that his best friend had been frozen too and was alive. There were a lot of things in his life that he didn’t quite understand, but standing in Bucharest, he couldn’t help but understand a bit better.

He needed to get to Helena though. He recognized her from a mile away. He could’ve anyway- he knew all the agents of SHIELD- rogue or other wise- and he just wanted to do all of this in peace.

“Agent.” He approached the young woman slowly with his shield in his hand, slightly dropped by his side but ready in hand just in case things went sideways. “It looks like we both followed the same trail.”

-

Carman was in Bucharest because it was genuinely quiet. She didn’t want to know about what was going on. If the avengers were off destroying whatever it was that they were destroying- she wasn’t going to be their clean up crew anymore. She was tired of living in fear and responsibility. She was disgusted by herself and letting herself get to that point. She was gloomy. Awfully gloomy.

She knew exactly who he was. Those bright eyes of his and dark hair… she couldn’t miss him for the world and there was just something about his soul that screamed pain. Something about his soul that was broken, battered and torn. As a deity, she was taught to recognize broken souls… but she could tell by the simple pain in his eyes and the fact that he was alive meant that he must’ve gone through a lot. She thought that he was dead- but she needed to take it slow. Maybe it wasn’t him- maybe it was a doppelgänger- maybe it was someone who looked incredibly like him-

Ok that wasn’t likely. Especially now that he had said his name. “Bucky.” She repeated his name gently under her breath as she thought for a moment. She wondered genuinely if she should tell him who she actually was… that she knew him. That she had adored him in a time before.

But she decided against him and instead she smiled ever so slightly. “Its nice to finally meet my neighbor.” She felt stupid. She felt like everything that she had put into her heart was… gone. Because he hadn’t recognized her name, her heart shattered once more.

It wasn’t his fault. Or at least that’s what she was telling herself. She didn’t look the same as she was so many years ago. But she had the same name. She had the same name as she did so many years ago… so many lives ago and she wondered if he would remember her eventually.

Maybe he would. There was a bit of hope in usually stoic expression. It wasn’t something that happened often… just ask Steve and he would know.

“I have lived here for a while. I’ve never seen you around.”

Making sure the green bag slung over her shoulder wasn’t slipping off, Helena grabbed ahold of it as she manouvered herself away from the bus and into Bucharest’s crowd of a population. She tugged down at her beige cap, eyes focused on her target, which was a specific apartment complex. And even better a specific number. She was lucky to grab ahold of the lead that led her there, and the lead did seem quite trustworthy based on the information she’d gathered. And it made her job a lot easier when having just one flat to focus on- For then she wouldn’t risk making a scene. Or at least not a as huge of a scene. Not yet.

When spotting Steve and that goddamn stripey and spangled shield, Helena knew it would be tough making an escape from his attention. After all, they were both agents, trained to get a mission done. With as little interference from others as possible. And she doubted it would be easy to get to the soldier before the Captain. It added just another fight to her mission, though she doubted it would end in a physical altercation. Or at least she didn’t hope so.

They both technically worked for the same people, but now with the Sokovia Accords seeming to split everyone apart, it felt as if there was no big team of people anymore. Not much information had been given about the accords just yet - or more specifically what was to happen with them - and it seemed a lot of people were feeling misplaced. Such as Helena. She didn’t know what to feel about the accords, but she knew that she still had a job to do, even if she’d gone a bit rogue with it. Someone had to track Barnes down, especially if a specific someone else was going to try and take him before he could face an interrogation for what happened at the UN meeting. She had to admit, something about the attack seemed… off, off in another way. But she didn’t quite know how to place it.

Helena found herself at a more hidden entrance to the flat building, about to head in, when a voice from behind her interrupted her. With a quirked eyebrow, she turned around swiftly and placed her hands in her innerpocket where her gun was. Just in case. “Captain. Not a surprise to see you here.” She admitted. “And it seems the trail has gotten too thin for the both of us to be on it, huh?”

-

It annoyed him. It bugged him. It went at him for what felt like an eternity, when in reality it was simply a few, mere moments. Why couldn’t Bucky place what it was about his neighbor that made something in his head tingle? He was an efficient agent, a trained soldier, a former robot who had been built to handle all tasks possible with an impeccable memory. Yet his neighbor was the one to make him scratch the back of his neck as he could only dwell.

There was just something about her. Something in the look of her eyes. Something about her voice and the way she spoke. Her name. Carman. That’s when it clicked for him, though he knew it wasn’t supposed to click. That name connected to a certain Carman he knew- Who he used to know. Someone who had held such a large meaning to him, someone he held so dear, someone he genuinely let in and cared about… But that person was long gone. Or supposed to be long gone at least. His mind seemed to set him back to a string of memories including his Carman from his past. And people had the same names, it was just a weird coincidence. A coincidence that made him yearn for those days before everything.

Bucky often thought back to the time where he didn’t have as much to worry about; Which was quite funny, since back then he felt like it couldn’t really get worse than that. The drenches, the fights, the hurting. He never knew it could get worse than that. But there he was, after everything. Still somewhat in one piece.

He felt guilty. He felt guilty for having this neighbor have to watch his hands tremble a bit at his sides, which they rarely ever did. Watch him as he obviously had an expression of blankness, not knowing what to say or think. Life was weird. Bucky knew that much. Could it be? Could it be her?

“I was just about to say that too- Don’t feel like I’ve seen you before either.” Bucky chuckled a bit sheepishly, trying to shake away that strong deja vu. “I moved her not too long ago, so wouldn’t be weird if I haven’t bumped into everyone around here.”

He was captain America. He was pretty much unstoppable and having Bucky by his side would definitely help with all of the pain that he had gone through. He knew that he needed to get Bucky back… he needed to get his damn best friend back because he genuinely didn’t know if he could do anything without that man knowing that he was alive and kind of well. He didn’t know much, but what he did know was that he didn’t want SHIELD or the government getting ahold of him.

He didn’t want Bucky to get hurt again and he would do absolutely everything in his power to keep that from happening. He was genuine when he was thinking about that. There wasn’t a day that went by that Bucky wasn’t on his mind. That man was always his best friend, before everything, after everything and now. They would forever be friends.

They’d be with each other til the end of the line. Steve would make sure of that.

He wouldn’t make it easy for Helena to get to Bucky. In fact, if she even tried, he would definitely make her time of trying a living hell even if that meant that he was a fugitive of justice. After all… he was a fugitive of justice more than once before. He wasn’t afraid of the government. He wasn’t afraid of SHIELD or Nick Fury. He wasn’t scared.

He was determined to get his goddamn friend back. And he wasn’t going to lose his best friend again. Not til the end of the line.

Here was the issue. He was in the middle of the accords, in the middle of being an avenger, the middle of being America’s armor… and the middle of being the best friend that he always knew that he needed to be. He needed to be the guy that could help Bucky with everything that he had. Everything that he had left. He needed to make sure that he preserved the things that he loved. He just couldn’t lose anyone else anymore.

“Its honestly not a surprise to see you here either,” he said softly as his dark blue eyes scanned the streets. “I think we’re here for the same thing aren’t we?” he said gruffly with a sigh.

-

There was a slight nod that came from her. In all honesty she was at a loss for words. She was speechless and her mind was truly blank. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him. Her heart broke more and more every single time she thought about him- every day that went by was a day that she thought of him. There was no night when she didn’t go to bed and think about her dear Bucky… when they would come out of the war… she would’ve told him she loved him. But during the war she didn’t want to burden him with emotions.

He didn’t come out of the war.

And every single day- every single night since then she was plagued by thoughts of him. She was plagued by the screams of the war and the many days that she would attempt to comfort Steve and have him crying on her shoulder… she was plagued by nightmares. Every day for centuries, the pain of losing him was genuinely the biggest pain that she had ever experienced in any of her lives. So now that he was standing right in front of her… she wondered what she should do.

Should she tell him all the things that had gone through her mind? Or should she continue to pretend as though she didn’t know him? She didn’t want to lose him again… she couldn’t lose him again.

“I don’t come out of my apartment a lot… its a bit strange but I prefer the comfort of my own floor than any other floor.” It was true. Although she had moved quite a long time ago, she had refused to get many pieces of furniture in case she would have to move again. She often would wake up on the floor when she did sleep on a bed anyway… so she didn’t really need much furniture or a bed- or a mattress for that matter. Her smile was slight, a bit awkward as she looked back at him. “It was nice meeting you.”

There was a pause. She was considering holing herself back into her apartment before she would pack up her things and go, not letting herself get attached again. But… she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave him. “Hey uh Bucky- did you want to get a cup of coffee or something?” She regretted it the minute she said it. She wanted to run and hide… but she couldn’t. Not now.

Helena knew when to meddle things and when not to. Most people did, by using their common sense, obviously. She was usually more careful with covering up her tracks and making sure she wouldn’t hit any problems along the way, but with this specific mission she knew that wasn’t going to be possible. To be honest, she knew she was a pain in the ass for Captain Rogers, but she was doing her job. 

Even if she’d gone a bit rogue about it.

And she didn’t want to be a pain in the ass. With everything going on with the UN, Wakanda’s murdered leader, the Winter Soldier, the Sokovia Accords, it seemed as if everything was walking into a path of chaos. Though the world always seemed to be chaotic, or at least always have a twinge of a sense of disorganisation, she knew things were starting to go really bad. It felt like the sense of justice was slowly decaying, and though details were fuzzy about a lot of things, she knew she had to do her job and do her best. That’s all she could do.

When Helena had realised S.H.I.E.L.D was simply letting German forces and polices get to Barnes instead, she was in no way going to have to trust them to do their job and just stand by as a member of an audience. It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in those forces, but she knew it would be too noisy and too risky. She knew she could do it, making sure to have back-up with her. She did feel sympathy for Steve though, it was hard not to. From what she’d gathered, those two had been through quite a lot together. And though it was hard not to give into her sympathetic feelings, she knew she had to at least get the guy caught and interrogated. Give the government a chance of clearing things up.

But she would be lying if she said it wasn’t just a bit fun to piss Rogers off during the whole ordeal.

“Or rather, someone.” Helena retorted in a mild tone of voice, glancing down at the watch on her wrist. She knew she only had a certain amount of time before the GSF would get their hands dirty too, and that time had to be spent wisely. “Listen, I don’t want it to end up like this. But it’s work, I do what I do, you do what you do. And I’m guessing you’re going to want to stand in my way, so I’ll have to stand in yours.”

38 seconds ‘til she had to enter.

-

Thinking back to the war was never quite... pleasant. Though Bucky knew the friendships he’d gained with the Howling Commando’s had been a pro to all the many cons, there were still cons enough to outweigh any pros there ever could have been. Maybe the beginning war had actually been the easiest part- Since what had really messed him up was everything that occurred in between and after. 

The war itself gave him flashbacks enough. Blood-soaked uniforms, broken dog tags, disgusting drenches. It hurt enough to be there himself, but what was worse was when his best friend just had to get himself into it too. And though he knew they both were just men, trying to do something good for their country and offer their service, he still didn’t want Steve there.

War was a place where the friends you made were quickly lost in one way or the other, though death was by far the worst abductor. And no way in hell did he want to have to watch Steve sacrifice himself for the war, but it seemed like Bucky had been the one to get the tough, uneasy road when Hydra got to him and dug their claws into him.  Even more blood-soaked uniforms. Shattered name-tags that he had broken. The endless testing and brainwashing. It was all so much worse and so much harder to forget.

It seemed like the only thing that kept him going was the faint memories that at times came to him. As a fog and a haze, just barely there, always slipping through the gaps between his fingers when he tried to grasp it. And in that fog was Carman. Before his Hydra days he’d been planning to confess something important to her after he could return home from the war, tell her how much she truly meant to him. But any ideas of that were quickly ripped from him. In all senses, and he was just left to his haze and his confusion, though much more stuff was coming back to him.

Such as Steve. Such as Carman.

“No, no, I get it. I’m pretty much the same.” Bucky smiled a bit sheepishly and awkwardly, hoping he didn’t seem to out of it. It was as if his mind was constantly switching between memories he was recalling and the face in front of him, who, despite not matching the one in his blurred collection of moments, still had a twinge of familiarity to it. The name. The voice. He didn’t know what to make of it.

And she only seemed more distinct when she said his name. “Oh, uhh, sure. I’d like that.”