anatomizing (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
anatomizing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2012-09-26 09:54 am
anatomizing) wrote in bakerstreet2012-09-26 09:54 am
TRAPPED
TRAPPED
Everyone has been trapped against their will in a situation not-so-flattering. You might feel powerless, angry, scared, or worst of all, bored. So, why not do that to your characters?
→ Post with your character and preferences.
→ People respond.
→ Congratulations! You're both trapped!
→ ???
→ PROFIT!!!
Scenarios (You can use RNG to choose for you, or pick yourself)
1. Trapped outside your house: Maybe that super-duper, ultra-fancy security system with the ridiculously long passcode that can only be opened from the inside wasn't such a good idea, was it? And does that look like rain to you? Oh yeah, you're right. It looks more like hail.
2. Trapped in your house: You've locked yourself in, you're on house arrest, or you don't want to lock yourself out by leaving. Maybe you're not even at your house. Maybe you're trapped in someone else's house, at a party, or by a bet, or a robbery gone wrong. Just find a way out before you start shooting the walls out of boredom.
3. Lost: You're not trapped, you're more... lost. Yeah, if you could find that object of your desire you could get out of this hellhole. Unfortunately, the powers that be won't allow that. So continues the quest for the holy grail. Though, it doesn't help that you have to go to the bathroom, your friend's goldfish is dying, and that big screen Plasma TV is getting heavier by the second.
4. Waiting: Whether it be a long line, a car ride, or god forbid, the dreaded doctor's waiting room, ain't no getting out of this one.
5 . Self-imposed lockdown: Before you can rejoin society, you have to get all that demon blood out of your system or get over that addiction. Or perhaps it's more crack-worthy. WE'RE NOT LEAVING UNTIL THAT FLY IS DEAD/THAT PEN IS FOUND/OUR DIRTY SECRETS ARE OUT IN THE OPEN. AND IF WE CAN'T DO IT, OUR CHILDREN'S CHILDEN WILL DO IT!
6 . You're literally trapped: Maybe your head is stuck between two bars or you're stuck in a window. Point is, you're stuck between a rock and a hard place. Metaphorically, of course. Or maybe you actually are, I don't know.
7 . Oh, here's the metaphorical one: You just go through the motions everyday, you watch everyone else live their lives, and that rut just gets bigger and deeper. What to do?
8 . Trapped in an elevator: We just couldn't take the stairs, could we?
9 . Trapped in a crowd: Maybe you're on a packed train or just a hallway where everyone has stopped walking and created a bottle neck. Or maybe you ended up in the middle of a mosh pit. Hope the person next to you is wearing deodorant.
10. Choose your own hellhole!
no subject
The Winter Soldier—no Bucky—was confused. There were too many conflicting memories and thoughts bounding in his skull. It felt as though it would crack open like a walnut and spill seventy years worth of nightmares and blood-tinged memories. S.H.I.E.L.D. had him locked up in a sterile cell that had more in keeping with a prison cell than the Ritz.
His cybernetic limb had been disabled and swung at his side limply as he paced the cell like a caged tiger. A lower level S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was attempting to interrogate the former Russian operative but none of the answers Bucky had for them were satisfactory apparently.
“I’ve told you people everything I know.” Everything he could recall.” They’d instilled a different set of memories each time they’d pulled him out of cold storage so the Winter Solider—no Bucky dammit—had dozen different sets of memories creating a conflicting story.
One minute he recalled having been a runner-up gymnast for Mother Russia in the seventies, the next he thought he might have been a diplomatic attaché during that time. Or a courier, a delivery truck driver.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had done the best to help deprogram Bucky but they weren’t the Red Room, didn’t know their dirty and unhanded tactics.
“I’m afraid that isn’t going to be good enough, Sergeant.” The agent was safely behind the bulletproof glass watching the agitated man pace the cramped confines of his cell.
The trapped man looked honestly confused for a moment when he was called ‘sergeant’. Had he been a sergeant, why couldn’t he remember “Well, that’s the best I have for you.” Bucky growled, somewhat acidly. His hair was lank and tangled as it fell around his jawline which was covered with a week’s worth of growth. The cell they were keeping him in was equipped with a shower but they’d been unwilling to provide him with even soap or shampoo for fear the Winter Soldier might figure out a means in which to escape.
Which was patently stupid in his book but Bucky understood the precautions they were taking. Amongst the conflicting memories he had of his time in Russian control, he could recall each and every person he’d killed. The Winter Soldier hadn’t differentiated between target, bystander and innocent during his missions and he thought he might drown in the blood that filled up his past.
no subject
Natasha stood in the doorway listening to conversation with an unreadable expression. The name had meant nothing, who was James Barnes? But she had listened like a good agent as they told her his tale and asked for her assistance. They needed someone who understood what he had been through, someone who knew the way the Red Room worked.
Someone who had been there.
She tried not to think about her past too much but it haunted her every day. So many lives, so much red. No matter how many years she spent with S.H.I.E.L.D., no matter how many lives she saved and crime organizations she shut down it was never enough, it would never be enough. She owed her life to Clint, she owed him everything, but he could never truly understand what she had been through or why she took her debts so seriously.
This man, though... he would understand.
The voice... there was something in his voice that nagged at her, something familiar, a voice from her past, the voice of a ghost. Who was Bucky Barnes? Only when she stepped into the room and finally glimpsed his image through the heavy glass window did the pieces start to fall into place. Her memories of her childhood weren’t always clear, some of them were even completely false, but him she remembered. The Winter Soldier.
no subject
As Natasha stepped into view, the unkempt man pacing the room came to a stop. Pale blue eyes scanned her face without recognition for a moment. He was simply accessing her as a potential threat just as he had when the other agent had stepped into the observation room. But the more he studied her, the more some part of him seemed to recognize the red head.
"I know you." Unlike the Winter Soldier's flat and cold tone, this man actually sounded like more than some windup doll the Red Room woke up every couple of years for a few months to accomplish a mission. Dark brows knit together as Bucky desperately tried to scan his cluttered brain for some hint as to why he knew this woman.
She'd caught Winter Soldier's attention because of the promise she'd shown. It had garnered her too much attention in the Red Room. But now, more than a decade later, the former assassin couldn't place where he knew her. Had she worked with him on that job in Rio? No, Paris? God damn his brain.
Helpless frustration briefly flickered across the man's face. "Hopefully you have a brain because this man is dumber than a box of rocks. Why won't you people listen to me when I tell you I've given you every bit of information I have?" Bucky demanded, that frustration and impatience tinging his words. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent glared hatefully through the glass at the formerly brainwashed assassin but James had no time for him.
On some instinctive level, he sensed Natasha was the one who held the power in the room, not this suited peon.
no subject
“You have given us all the information you are aware of,” she corrected, showing that she believed him while still defending her organization’s stance. “Your memories are fractures and we don’t know what might trigger those that are still hidden. You are a dangerous man, Sergeant Barnes. I’m sure you understand that we must take precautions.”
The same precautions had been taken with her even though she had came in willingly. The deprogramming had been long and painful and while she had cursed them at the time, she did not regret it now, was even grateful for it. Her other option had been death, and she had far too much to atone for before she was ready to die, no matter what she had felt all those years ago when Clint had disobeyed his orders and spared her life.
no subject
"I...." In English now, the man raked his one functioning hand through the lank and greasy strands of dark brown hair. "I don't know." Defeatism wasn't in the Winter Soldier's programming but Bucky Barnes? He was just a man, a man who had a dozen different memories crashing through his head every time he tried to recall something from his past and the weight of nearly a hundred murders hanging from his shoulders.
Visibly shaken, the man settled onto the rock hard bunk they'd provided to him because there was nowhere else to sit in the cell.
"You should have just killed me." He finally said softly, eyes cast on the floor. "I don't know which memory is real. This is America, isn't it?" Why hadn't they executed him? What could these people possibly hope to gain from him?
At the back of Bucky's mind, the Winter Soldier whispered to him, telling him to be on his guard and not to trust these S.H.I.E.L.D. agents because who knew what they wanted from him. He'd committed such atrocities, he should have been executed on sight. Or maybe they planned to throw him in a gulag—no a jail—for the rest of his life. It was hard trying to choose which word in which language to use even in his own mind.
no subject
"One who understands," she replied in her native tongue, the accent perfect despite years of banishing all traces of it from her usual speech. She watched his reaction, how lost and confused he seemed. She did understand, more than anyone else in the entire facility ever could. She knew because she had been there.
“Is that what you want?” she questioned without emotion, back to English now. “Do you want to die not knowing who you truly are?” She had been there before as well. When Clint had found her she had fought, but only because that was what she did, what she was trained to do. In the end she hadn’t fought as hard as she could, she had been ready to die, part of her would have even welcomed it. Her life was a lie, her life was death and she brought it upon guilty and innocent alike.
no subject
Baleful blue eyes turned to her then, the sharpness of his gaze enough to cut. Bucky wasn't a killer but that didn't mean a killer didn't lurk within him just beneath the surface. That was why S.H.I.E.L.D. had him locked up like an animal. "All due respect, ma'am, but I highly doubt that."
Cynicism heavily tinged the brunette's tone as he answered her in Russian. "I remember a girl with eyes like yours. She tried so hard to appear cold and untouchable but her eyes gave her away every time." The closer Bucky got to the truth, the stronger the Winter Soldier's pull had over him. Pale eyes fell shut momentarily and the disturbed looking man shook himself like a dog before switching back to English.
"I think it's what might have been best for everyone involved. And if I have to choose between existing like this and being locked up like an animal for the rest of my life, I'd rather eat a bullet." His mouth twisted in a mirthless mockery of a smile.
no subject
“All little girls have to grow up some day,” she shifted flawlessly back to Russian when he did the same, ignoring the look her fellow agent gave her. He was fluent in English, Japanese and Spanish and was clearly annoyed to be left out of the conversation. Eventually he thought it better to remove himself and let her deal with it alone. “See enough cruelties in the world, cause enough of them herself, and even that little girl can become hardened.”
Not hard enough, not cold enough or she would have never gone rogue, would have fought to the death instead of taking a second chance when offered to her.
“You do not know who all is involved,” she spoke, though she didn’t elaborate. Steve Rogers had not been informed yet, and she intended to keep it that way until she got a better read on Bucky’s state of mind. “If you cooperate you will not have to stay locked up forever. Even the worst of us are capable of reforming.”