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Alias: Tyson
Age: 31 (100)
Codename: The Winter Soldier
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App: http://withgreatpowers.jcink.net/index.php?act=ST&f=6&t=723
Shipper: http://withgreatpowers.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=758
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Joined: 26-October 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Yesterday at 10:42 am
Local Time: Jan 19 2018, 06:47 AM
15 posts (0.2 per day)
( 0.30% of total forum posts )
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My Content
Dec 13 2017, 02:40 PM

Bucky didn't have the gall to proclaim himself a hero. He wasn't one. He wasn't the Winter Soldier, either, though; and that's where everything got so confusing. Most of the time when he walked down the streets of New York City, he felt like he would have on the streets of Hong Kong. Today was no different.

He recognized landmarks from his visits here over the last few months, but that was about it. Even when he visited someone he knew, it was like talking to ghosts in shells of pictures he had been shown, wrapped in wrinkles of age that should have resided on his face too.

On his way back from seeing (and it wasn't visiting; he didn't dare visit, he had a habit of attracting trouble. He didn't need targets on any backs that weren't his own) his siblings and their children? They didn't know him from Adam anymore. Still, he wanted to see them if he could -- now and then. Maybe that was stupid.

It was when he was hailing a taxi and tugging open the door that he heard someone shout for help. There wasn't a hesitation as he closed the door, patting the top of it quickly to say that he wasn't interested anymore. He rounded the corner just to see two guys dark over a fence and he started to run after them when he heard the pathetic noise of the person on the ground, hesitated, and turned.

A purse you could replace. A life, not so much. "Hey -- everything's going to be alright." he whispered it as he got onto his knees, looking at the stab in the gut. He tugged off his jacket and then the shirt that was beneath it, forgetting the jacket where i was except for the phone in his pocket. "There's a clinic just up the street. Can you walk?" he asked. "Put pressure on that."

They managed to make it down the block; he'd passed it on his walk here -- it wasn't some long term memory, just a stroke of luck and by the time that they got half way there, Barnes had put the guy over his shoulder. He had to kick the door open after he turned the knob so that he could enter.

"Hello? Anybody home?" he hollered, "It's an emergency." He didn't sound panicked -- not like a normal man who had found someone stabbed in an alley -- but, well, like a soldier, whose response to violence and pressure was easy after so many years of dealing with it.


Dec 7 2017, 01:27 PM

[dohtml]<center><img src="https://thumbs.gfycat.com/AlarmedGenerousDrake-max-1mb.gif" style="width:95%;"></center>[/dohtml]
[encrypted message]
figured id txt
in nyc til mon
((Bucky is a lazy texter. Now we all know my head canon.
anyhoo lemme know if there's anything you need fixed~))
Nov 5 2017, 07:59 PM
It was a rainy afternoon, but not the kind of rain that warranted an umbrella. Instead, it was like a fine mist that washed all the way across the landscape. It was a risk, he knew, but he had to see the pictures again--read the articles one more time and see if he could really put anything together.

So here he was, standing in the Captain American and Howling Commandos exhibit that still graced the halls of the Smithsonian. There was a baseball cap on his head, black with a stylized panda on it that he had picked up at the zoo. His clothing was baggy -- jeans, a t-shirt, and a baggy tie-dye sweatshirt that attracted the eye in the most impressive way to distract from the face that was above the neck line.

There was nothing about this man who stood with his hands tucked into his pockets and his metal hand hidden from site that said he was anything that could possibly be important -- unless of course you looked from the sharp nose and bright eyes of the picture to the mirror that was in front of him in flesh and blood.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He knew he wasn't supposed to be here, but he couldn't help it. Everything was so damn confusing and if anything or anyone was going to clear it up -- well, history seemed like the place to go.

((Let me know if anything needs to be changed!))
Nov 3 2017, 02:36 PM

Bucky still wasn't sure that he belonged in this place, but he'd been learning about it. The language wasn't too complicated, he'd gotten to the point where he could ask simple questions, hold a conversation if the person talked slow enough and made enough gestures to fill in the blanks. Still, there was something easier about the sparring matches that he'd been having with the King.

If he had written it down, he might realized how insane it sounded that one of his few friends (if that was a word that could possibly be used) was the king of a secret kingdom somewhere in Africa, that specialized in vibranium, and had--up until moments before allying with him--wanted to see his head on a platter for the accused assassination of his father. Really none of it had a ring to it.

He was seated, however, waiting where they usually sparred. One arm was distinctly missing, the metallic shoulder all that was left, wrapped at the bottom still like a wound that would never heal. His other rested on his knee as he watched and listened a fountain rotate water with a soft thrumming. Someone might have thought that he wasn't paying attention -- even that he was lost in thoughts; and they would have been wrong.

The Winter Soldier never turned off, whether he wanted to or not and the smallest noise, while it might not have turned his head or drawn his eyes, was noted and marked like a lion in the summer sun.

((Let me know if anything needs to be changed!))
Oct 30 2017, 07:39 AM

Thread Count: 7(+1)/10
Reply Speed: Medium
New Threads: OPEN
New Plots: OPEN

General: With a fuzzy memory, Bucky seems like a monster waiting to attack for many people. He can't stand what he did in the past, but he can't write off being "the Winter Soldier" as something that is dead and gone because it was him and he feels like he made his choices then, just without the information he has now. He is somewhat gentle-hearted with a playful personality if you can get him going, but play him wrong or be on the wrong side of what he considers right and things are likely to turn dark quick. Too long didn't read: Bucky's generally not an issue for anyone, but he's not the vigilante you want to meet if you're beating up a little old lady in an alley.

Friends: These are hard for Bucky to make. Since he doesn't really know who he is, and he remembers everything that he has done, he struggles to really make connections. In reality, he's a good with a generally fine temperament, but he's got a strong nose for justice. Bucky needs a strong support system and people pointing him in an upward direction. He's pretty cool with literally anyone who is cool with him.

Enemies: Haha. HAAAAAA. Sometimes you're credited with the assassination of huge numbers of people and then got blamed for blowing up peace accords. He's got more enemies than he can count.

Love: Things are a little complicated for love to be something that Bucky is actively seeking out, but I will say, he's certainly not opposed. I imagine him as a 1 on the Kinsey scale, so he's generally going to be interested in women unless something slaps him across the face like "this is true love, bud."
I personally ship him with Natasha Romanoff but I'm not opposed to something otherwise that is organic.

Plot hooks:
- Cool metal arm
- Really dangerous
- Super brainwashed
- Doesn't remember normal things about the past
- is from the 40's
- Loves pancakes
- Has a soft spot for "misfits"
- honestly has good intentions (unless you are a bad person)
- Is a pacifist between winning fights
- does parkour unofficially
- is a great teacher and has incredible patience
Last Visitors

Jan 12 2018, 12:12 PM

Jan 12 2018, 10:04 AM

Jan 2 2018, 03:17 PM

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