ataraxion | voice, 001

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voice, 001

[The comm’s broadcasting voice, because it’s simplest. It looks like a fancy walkie-talkie, why wouldn’t it work like one? Bucky sounds -- well, a little tired, and a little confused, but being alive is good enough for him right now.]

This is Sergeant James Barnes, 107th infantry. Does anyone wanna tell me why I’m on a spaceship, or am I just hallucinating I’m Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers?

[A little bit of a pause.] A year would be good, too. Since I’m pretty damn sure this isn’t 1945, and I’m going to assume that since the controls aren’t in German, we won. We did, right? [Howard's told him a few things, but -- not everything. There's a lot to catch up on, after all.]

….Anybody out there? Help a fella out.

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[Her tone is soft and friendly.]

Hey, soldier. Year isn't important, really. I'm from 2083 and nah, the Nazis didn't win. No one knows why we're here. There's a guidebook.

[Shrike sends it, since it's obvious he hasn't seen it.]

If you're from 1945 I can come teach you how to use the comm better. Even set you up with an encryption. I'm Liberty. How you holding up?

That'd be appreciated. [There's a slight pause.] I'm ..holding up alright, I guess. This is a pretty sudden change, but there are people I know around.

Where you at?

And hopefully they're not, you know. Assholes.

[YOUNG LADY.]

Many people here are from different years, or from places where WWII didn't matter.

[He gives her a vague description of wherever he is -- it's probably in the living quarters, somewhere near Steve's room -- and he can't hide a slight laugh at that.]

No. One's my best friend, the other's a friend too.

[She recognizes it readily enough and heads off, dragging her hair up messily into a side ponytail.]

Lucky you. I've seen fuck all from home. 'Course, most people? I'd have to get somebody to break some fucking kneecaps.

[Because he doesn't want to bother with text, right now.]

One of 'em you?

You gotta mouth on you, Miss Liberty. [He's grinning, though.]

You might know my friend. Steve Rogers?

Two in one day. Was all of the forties like this? Chicks didn't swear or something?

Yeah--sort of. Big blond guy, seems like a sweetheart, wears the old--the flag from before? Yeah, I seen him around. I got a buddy named James who knows him better. Funny, huh? Of course, my buddy is a midget ginger kid.

[Usually she protests being called 'miss'. But somehow soldier boy makes it sound...charming. Not demeaning. He's got a nice voice, she thinks, absently, and rolls her sleeves down to her wrists. Feathers can wait another day. She turns the corner of where she thinks she is and casts around, head canted to one side like an alert songbird.]

Hey, James?

No.

Year 2001. Germany lost, but America withdrew from the Asia-Pacific War.

Ain't gotta clue why we're here mate. Just are.

An' it ain't 1742, I can tell ya that much.

The nice ones didn't.

...Yeah, that's Steve. Used to be a lot smaller. I think I met your midget ginger friend.

[He pokes his head around the corner and gives her a little wave.]

Call me Bucky. It's less confusing.

I wouldn't say I'm nice.

[She says this to his face, waving back. Dark and brooding, huh?]

You can call me Libby if Liberty's too much. All right, wanna find a couch and get you up to speed?

...that's not--a come on, fuck, my mouth is stupid, just--ugh. I mean the comms.

[Why does she talk. She doesn't even know.]

Edited 2012-08-09 22:57 (UTC)

["Barnes"...why does that name feel familiar?]

None seem to know the purpose for us being here.

Why the hell'd they do that?

[The video makes him blink a bit, but he's dealt with weirder things.]

That's pretty existential of you.

...No, last thing I knew it was 1945.

I've kinda gathered that, yeah.

[He can be dark and brooding, right now he's just glad to be alive, honestly.]

I know what you mean, don't worry, kid. [He steps back with a small gesture.] Lead the way.

[It's the eyes. She knows brooding-adept eyes a mile away. But being alive is good, and being forgiven for misspeaking relaxes her. She nods and tilts her head towards a more open living space, and perches up on the arm of the couch instead of sitting normally.]

All right. Let's start what you do know. Show me.

My grandpa used to watch Flash Gordon when he was a kid.

The Allies won World War II.

All I know is that the vessel seems to...gather people from across worlds. And that it does so with some regularity.

I came here in the most recent gathering so I haven't any further wisdom to offer. Like yourself, I find I am in unknown territory.

Yes, ma'am. [He follows her over and sort of sprawls on the couch, grabbing his comm and poking at it. He's a little cautious, true, but he figures if he treats it like a walkie-talkie long enough, it'll work like one.]

...Is there a reason these buttons are so damn small?

Thanks for making me feel old. [It's a joke, but not exactly a good one.]

...Good. That's good.

I'm sorry, that isn't what I meant. You're not old, right? You don't sound old.

[Ma'am? Holy fuck. Patriotic feelings she didn't even know she had. God bless what's left of America.]

Everything gets smaller in the future. It's progress. You handle the touch screen well, though--[she leans in and presses a few buttons]--'kay. There. That opens up your functions for comms access. You got voice, video, and text. Voice seems to be working for you--oh, yeah, video tech? Way better in the future. It's in real time, although if you do this--

[Another deft flick of buttons, but slowed down so he can see it.]

You just hit record and it does. Have you set up--do you know what a voice message inbox is?

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voice, 001

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