Brooklyn boys [closed rp]
Warmth, a stinging smell of sweat and rust, surrounded by bars and heavily protected guards... Shouts, and the faint sound of hard bone meating flesh. An all to familliar coppery smell fills the Assets nostrils as he raises his clenched fist and throws another punch straight towards an already unconcious figure, hanging slack in his grip. солдат... Crimson meets silver, and a squelching sound echoes through the cell, the Asset feels no fatigue, no desire to stop, no remorse.. стоп, солдат... Everything changes and suddenly he is falling through the floor, bricks suddenly give away as his feet loses contact with the ground.. Bucky wakes up with a flinch, his back aches from the awkward position and his metal fist grasping tightly on to the chairs arm rest. He relaxes his arm, and the wood gives away a relieved creak.. Bucky scans the entire room; the apartment looks the same as yesterday when they had just arrived, an old sofia, an impossibly small bathroom, a kitchenette and a bed..