#winterforged

[sparedparts-blog1]

     ❝  —–  times may be different now, but you’re still a punk. ❞  there’s a joking antagonism in his tone.   ❝  you got somethin’ to say about my pancakes, old man?? for your information, they ain’t burnt, they’re crispy. EAT EM’, an shut up.  ❞   OKAY, maybe they were a little ……….. crunchy;  they’re still edible. with a minor hint of a charcoal on the taste buds.  it just adds to the flavor !  a smile cracked,  jovial & painted in old time fashion.  & for a moment, it feels just like it used to be. when they were kids, stupid & idiotic & ignorant to the ways of the sinister world neither one of them asked to be chucked into. he can almost reminisce,  but there’s something absent in his smile.  it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  

         bucky settles himself on the window-sill, watching the Wakandan sunrise as creeping filters of light begin to crack through the jungle surrounding their compound.  strange, how the cards play out.  the beautiful scenery has done little to obscure the reality of his situation, of their situation.  because now he’s managed to drag others down with him,  it isn’t just him running from the UN anymore. it’s STEVE. it’s the Avengers. 

[sparedparts-blog1]

       MORTAR SHELLS ECHO IN THE DISTANCE. the sound of boots clamoring in the debris of burnt wood and crumbled brick, as deafening as the bombshells leveling the camps; troops flooding in to fight the Germans waiting on the other side.  with the Howling Commandos in position, Bucky took his aim, knocking down the singular guard who stood post just outside of the train car that contained the cache of stolen art they'd aimed to get back from the Nazis,  waiting for Captain Roger's signal.

         there's a sickness in his soul, a black thumb print that taking another life seems to leave behind.  it's the cruelness of war,  the cold depravity for survival that pumps through every soldier's veins; drilled into the SKULL like nails through wood, until the bitter numb set in. 

         ❝   think we can get all this outta here without bein' spotted?  ❞  a crisp quip, infiltrated by the stinging air.  they were on borrowed time, as alarms sounded, alerting every German in the camp to rush to battle.   the air was thick with gunpowder, & mortar.  even if they acted quick, it wouldn’t be long until they were surrounded or overtaken.  & those German camps were hell,  he still remembers the weeks he’d spent waiting to die; the days he’d spent strapped to that table,  fighting against the burning fire in his skull.  some days, he can still barely contain the nausea. 

        ❝   might wanna hurry----   ❞

[fauxmasked]

@winterforged​

          ❝ well if it isn’t the capt-sicle himself . heard ya went rogue or something . ❞ the forest had been quiet , but then he showed up . a bit surprised the kitsune was , being interrupted from her hunt when finding him , ❝ what brings you to my forest ? villagers send you ? those rumors of a fox demon is highly inaccurate . they should get their facts straight . google’s a thing . ❞