[ —Well that was some hello. Dagger dodges the rocket easily
enough, given the size of it isn't hard to miss. Blades drawn, Dagger cuts
the RPG in half easily, and braces for impact for this unknown assailant.
]
[Not surprised by that, honestly. So without missing a beat, immediately after he fired the grenade launcher he rolled a screecher bomb towards Dagger's feet while heading in his direction and firing a few rounds from his submachine gun. A brief pause in that to toss a regular bomb at him as he keeps going.
Yeah, he's just going to relentlessly try and blow you up.]
[ Barnes, you overachieving amputee Relentlessness is a trait
Dagger can appreciate better when it's not directed at him. The screecher
raises an unholy wall of noise and it reverberates through him; it's
annoying, but a prickly kind of annoying that is completely distracting,
and Dagger catches an actual bomb right in the face. It of course,
detonates accordingly. ]
[ Not that it's a problem by much, but it does completely destroy
his fancy helmet. So have a nice view of Dagger's exposed face and
shoulder. Check out them teeth. ]
What the shit, Barnes.
[ He ditches his mechanical arms, ditches three other blades, and
flips the one blade in hand with the sharp edge facing front. Serious
situations call for serious attitudes, and this feels serious. ]
dunno how big dagger's one blade is, but hopefully that's vague enough.
[Your mug's not as bad as Red Skull, to be quite honest. He still doesn't respond and upon seeing Dagger ditch his blades, holsters his gun on his back again and flips out his... dagger. Yes, it's a dagger, Dagger.
But it is serious and if this were just about trying to kill Dagger (which was what he was trying to do even though he knows it's impossible), he'd probably stick to the heavier artillery. But no, blade for blade is more personal. There's a dissatisfying detachment to just shooting someone.
And it's a second later that he's in range to engage, going for the inside of Dagger's arm holding the blade with his metal hand to disarm/disable, while his other hand attacks with his knife.]
Re: dunno how big dagger's one blade is, but hopefully that's vague enough.
[ There is a cruel joke in this very scenario that is escaping
Dagger right now, but let it be said that Bucky's sense of humor appears in
the strangest of times. Attacking him with a Dagger —
wow.
He parries the lunge, and by now the temperature immediately around
him has dropped several degrees; the knife, when it makes contact, gets
stuck on Dagger's thermal jacket, and Dagger swings hard at Barnes'
midsection with a gloved fist. Not a full-cocked blow, but it's nothing a
super-soldier can scoff at either. ]
Don't make me fight you serious.
[ ooc: it's about the same size as in his consignees file pic!
]
[The temperature drop gets his breath to hitch ever so slightly, but doesn't deter his motions, though that hit sure does. He skids back some while bent over as he recovers from it, pulling air back in his lungs and compartmentalizing the pain, but still ready on his toes for attack. He glares up at Dagger with an unhinged type of violence and desperation in his entire being, battling with distinct parts of himself in his head.]
Pochemu net? ['Why Not?' Yes, now he's jumbling up languages, and his voice is harsh and more broken than angry, though there is definitely anger. Not that the Russian is a big problem communication-wise.]
Because I'll wreck you. [ It's not a threat, really. It's more of a
reminder, because Barnes's 70-year record is impressive, sure, but Dagger's
own spans several hundreds, and a lot more casualties. The numbers alone
favor him. ] What's this about?
[ He flips his grip on the blade, so that it's no longer at a
resting hold, and he swings it a handful of times. The air whistles as the
blade swings, each swing cutting through air and freezing it that very
thing ice crystals hang for a blink before slowly floating down to the snow
on the ground. ] Tell me what the problem is.
[He watches the swinging blade and the resulting ice. He knew full well what Dagger's abilities consisted of, 'cryokinesis' as it states in his file, and the knee-jerk feeling of trauma-borne anxiety over the idea of being frozen isn't enough to stop him right now. He also knows full well that he's severely outmatched and he doesn't care. "I'll wreck you" gets a subtle shift in features that seems anticipatory, recklessly and hopelessly so and not masochistically like Jack had approached him with the other day, but like he's lost a reason to do anything else but get himself killed.
However, the follow up questions have him pausing, struggling to put together a coherent answer together, something that's not his strong suit even on a good day. After a short and painful mental struggle, he ditches the attempt to procure an explanation and goes for a punch to Dagger's exposed face with a wounded feral sound of frustration and steering clear of his blade while keeping his guard up, but not as well as he usually would given how reckless he's being.]
I- there's no- tsel'! [He manages to grind out as he attacks, anyway. (Tsel' -> purpose).]
[ Sounds dangerous. It's a good thing Dagger remembers that flesh is
bad on ice, and metal even more so, and covers his face with ice that
doesn't freeze anything it comes in contact with to serve as a
buffer for Barnes' punch. He then slams the butt of the blade handle right
into Barnes' nose with some effort to not crack the poor guy's head open.
]
Swinging at me like you're one of those failures definitely isn't
purposeful, I agree. [ Careless swinging is dangerous, especially
for a trained fighter with a rep for the very opposite. People could get
hurt. ] Who tickled your brain this time?
[He careens back at the hit to his face and staggers, shaking his head a bit to try and get the spots to stop dancing in front of his eyes and trying not to fall over, but he goes down on one knee. He doesn't seem to notice the blood flowing down from his nose, but his skull is intact, good job.
The hit throws him off enough to pause his racing and jumbled thoughts and he looks up at Dagger, more confused than anything right now.]
Who- ... chto- .. what? [The phrasing of that question might need to be adjusted especially since you just literally rattled his brain.]
[ We can't all be Steve Rogers with the kid gloves, now. ]
Who messed you up. What happened? Rogers? The metal can? I'm not having fun
with this fight, it's very emotional. I don't like emotional.
[ All that said, Dagger does crouch down to Barnes' eye level,
completely unconcerned. Barnes is flesh all over and has a metal arm.
Dagger is literally ice. Worst that happens, everyone gets to chisel frozen
Barnes bits off him. ]
[Indeed. Kid gloves aren't that helpful most of the time anyway. He spits some of the blood that got in his mouth onto the snow and goes through the question, putting it together.]
He didn't lie.
[He snaps half to himself. He doesn't like emotional either, which is part of why he's so pissed off. Part of it is just frustration at the feelings. But the statement is his way of trying to reason out how he's supposed to answer. Someone "messing him up" implies to him that they told lies to toy with his head. So if Dagger is asking what started all this, the answer is Jack, but the things said were all true things he already believed, hence the confusion and increased angry frustration that results.
When Dagger offers to keep fighting, he posits a question in return after a tense pause of dangerous staring, looking like he's about to answer with another hit to Dagger's face, but blows to his own face historically have the effect of rebooting him.]
[ The staring, for some reason, reminds Dagger of a description of
hunger that a human from the distant past described it as - an intense
feeling of drowning, but from the stomach. Though, Dagger can't drown
either, so it's not as descriptive as he expected it to be. ]
Do you want me to answer you, or is that rhetorical?
[ Hey, you never know with humans. He does sheath his lone blade for
a moment, because it's tiring to keep carrying that heavy thing.. ]
[A pause as his eyes flicker a moment, unsure. Dagger's more or less replaced Pierce in his head, he represents the same source of authority and also reinforcement, hence the instinct to not only try and kill him but seek validation from him. He's not used to being asked something like that. He's always just been appeased like a child when he becomes erratic.]
... An answer. [He wants and answer, he thinks. But there's still an unsure and guarded element to the response.]
[ This feels like parenting. All of Dagger's education on what
parents do have always sounded like particularly involved version of the
job he currently has, and he's not sure he wants more of it. Can he be a
parent? Technically he already is, because his whole team is a bunch of
whiny babies who need headpats and food 90% of the time. Barnes didn't seem
to be like that, though. ]
To make sure this crew succeeds. You do what I tell you, and you succeed at
that, we win. If you fail - if anyone in Red Team fails - then the whole
team fails.And then everybody fails and we all die.
You want a purpose, share mine - we keep the captain alive, and we keep the
crew intact. That's what Red is for. That means if someone screws up, we
get rid of them, or we make them stop screwing up. We root out the spies,
the double agents, the soon-to-be insubordinators, and we destroy them
before they make a mess. We make sure we don't become Almina.
Not on my watch. Which is yours, because . . . you know. Red Team. Stuff.
[He blinks and then glances down, seeming to take that in with a bit of effort, but his mind doesn't outright reject it. He'd always been a killing machine with a higher purpose to protect the world from itself by inciting chaos and manipulating the people to believe they couldn't have freedom. This was killing with the purpose to protect for a different reason that feels familiar in a way he only half places, but doesn't disagree with his instinct either.
There's a certain blankness that seems to start to flood over him. It's an answer that's only just good enough to keep him going forward with a direction and a reason to exist. But there's a hollowness to it, something that leaves him feeling more empty while simultaneously satisfied. Then he nods once in a detached way.]
[ Dagger's pretty sure there's something wrong with this situation,
but he doesn't know if it's his problem or someone else's. People's
feelings are dangerous things, and Dagger doesn't like to meddle with
those. ]
[Probably best not to dig too deep into things you don't yet understand.
He looks over at him, seeming a bit confused and then takes in the damage of the area and Dagger's exposed face like he's just realizing what he did in a detached daze. Then he looks down again, expression and body language shifting a bit like he's ready to take any kind of punishment he knows he deserves.]
[ Dagger pets Bucky's head (because his awareness of how to comfort humans is mixed with child education and pet care), and then gets back to his feet. ]
[His head jerks back slightly, startled but.. not as confused as he probably should be by that kind of gesture, though it's still unusual. He watches Dagger stand warily and-
He has no idea how to navigate something like this.]
[That's the best he can do. He has no idea how to gauge 'adequate comfort'.
So after a couple moments he slowly stands, steady on the outside, totally the opposite of that on the inside. A quick glance at Dagger and then a curt nod as he returns to avoiding looking at him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
DAY 37 | Action
And fire a rocket launcher at you from a hidden distance (as far as the launcher allows, at least) as a hello.]
Re: DAY 37 | Action
[ —Well that was some hello. Dagger dodges the rocket easily enough, given the size of it isn't hard to miss. Blades drawn, Dagger cuts the RPG in half easily, and braces for impact for this unknown assailant. ]
Hey!
whoops, it was a grenade launcher sry
Yeah, he's just going to relentlessly try and blow you up.]
Re: whoops, it was a grenade launcher sry
[
Barnes, you overachieving amputeeRelentlessness is a trait Dagger can appreciate better when it's not directed at him. The screecher raises an unholy wall of noise and it reverberates through him; it's annoying, but a prickly kind of annoying that is completely distracting, and Dagger catches an actual bomb right in the face. It of course, detonates accordingly. ][ Not that it's a problem by much, but it does completely destroy his fancy helmet. So have a nice view of Dagger's exposed face and shoulder. Check out them teeth. ]
What the shit, Barnes.
[ He ditches his mechanical arms, ditches three other blades, and flips the one blade in hand with the sharp edge facing front. Serious situations call for serious attitudes, and this feels serious. ]
dunno how big dagger's one blade is, but hopefully that's vague enough.
But it is serious and if this were just about trying to kill Dagger (which was what he was trying to do even though he knows it's impossible), he'd probably stick to the heavier artillery. But no, blade for blade is more personal. There's a dissatisfying detachment to just shooting someone.
And it's a second later that he's in range to engage, going for the inside of Dagger's arm holding the blade with his metal hand to disarm/disable, while his other hand attacks with his knife.]
Re: dunno how big dagger's one blade is, but hopefully that's vague enough.
[ There is a cruel joke in this very scenario that is escaping Dagger right now, but let it be said that Bucky's sense of humor appears in the strangest of times. Attacking him with a Dagger — wow.
He parries the lunge, and by now the temperature immediately around him has dropped several degrees; the knife, when it makes contact, gets stuck on Dagger's thermal jacket, and Dagger swings hard at Barnes' midsection with a gloved fist. Not a full-cocked blow, but it's nothing a super-soldier can scoff at either. ]
Don't make me fight you serious.
[ ooc: it's about the same size as in his consignees file pic! ]
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Pochemu net? ['Why Not?' Yes, now he's jumbling up languages, and his voice is harsh and more broken than angry, though there is definitely anger. Not that the Russian is a big problem communication-wise.]
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Because I'll wreck you. [ It's not a threat, really. It's more of a reminder, because Barnes's 70-year record is impressive, sure, but Dagger's own spans several hundreds, and a lot more casualties. The numbers alone favor him. ] What's this about?
[ He flips his grip on the blade, so that it's no longer at a resting hold, and he swings it a handful of times. The air whistles as the blade swings, each swing cutting through air and freezing it that very thing ice crystals hang for a blink before slowly floating down to the snow on the ground. ] Tell me what the problem is.
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However, the follow up questions have him pausing, struggling to put together a coherent answer together, something that's not his strong suit even on a good day. After a short and painful mental struggle, he ditches the attempt to procure an explanation and goes for a punch to Dagger's exposed face with a wounded feral sound of frustration and steering clear of his blade while keeping his guard up, but not as well as he usually would given how reckless he's being.]
I- there's no- tsel'! [He manages to grind out as he attacks, anyway. (Tsel' -> purpose).]
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[ Sounds dangerous. It's a good thing Dagger remembers that flesh is bad on ice, and metal even more so, and covers his face with ice that doesn't freeze anything it comes in contact with to serve as a buffer for Barnes' punch. He then slams the butt of the blade handle right into Barnes' nose with some effort to not crack the poor guy's head open. ]
Swinging at me like you're one of those failures definitely isn't purposeful, I agree. [ Careless swinging is dangerous, especially for a trained fighter with a rep for the very opposite. People could get hurt. ] Who tickled your brain this time?
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The hit throws him off enough to pause his racing and jumbled thoughts and he looks up at Dagger, more confused than anything right now.]
Who- ... chto- .. what? [The phrasing of that question might need to be adjusted especially since you just literally rattled his brain.]
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[ We can't all be Steve Rogers with the kid gloves, now. ]
Who messed you up. What happened? Rogers? The metal can? I'm not having fun with this fight, it's very emotional. I don't like emotional.
[ All that said, Dagger does crouch down to Barnes' eye level, completely unconcerned. Barnes is flesh all over and has a metal arm. Dagger is literally ice. Worst that happens, everyone gets to chisel frozen Barnes bits off him. ]
We can keep fighting if you want.
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He didn't lie.
[He snaps half to himself. He doesn't like emotional either, which is part of why he's so pissed off. Part of it is just frustration at the feelings. But the statement is his way of trying to reason out how he's supposed to answer. Someone "messing him up" implies to him that they told lies to toy with his head. So if Dagger is asking what started all this, the answer is Jack, but the things said were all true things he already believed, hence the confusion and increased angry frustration that results.
When Dagger offers to keep fighting, he posits a question in return after a tense pause of dangerous staring, looking like he's about to answer with another hit to Dagger's face, but blows to his own face historically have the effect of rebooting him.]
... What's the point of me?
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[ The staring, for some reason, reminds Dagger of a description of hunger that a human from the distant past described it as - an intense feeling of drowning, but from the stomach. Though, Dagger can't drown either, so it's not as descriptive as he expected it to be. ]
Do you want me to answer you, or is that rhetorical?
[ Hey, you never know with humans. He does sheath his lone blade for a moment, because it's tiring to keep carrying that heavy thing.. ]
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... An answer. [He wants and answer, he thinks. But there's still an unsure and guarded element to the response.]
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[ This feels like parenting. All of Dagger's education on what parents do have always sounded like particularly involved version of the job he currently has, and he's not sure he wants more of it. Can he be a parent? Technically he already is, because his whole team is a bunch of whiny babies who need headpats and food 90% of the time. Barnes didn't seem to be like that, though. ]
To make sure this crew succeeds. You do what I tell you, and you succeed at that, we win. If you fail - if anyone in Red Team fails - then the whole team fails.And then everybody fails and we all die.
You want a purpose, share mine - we keep the captain alive, and we keep the crew intact. That's what Red is for. That means if someone screws up, we get rid of them, or we make them stop screwing up. We root out the spies, the double agents, the soon-to-be insubordinators, and we destroy them before they make a mess. We make sure we don't become Almina.
Not on my watch. Which is yours, because . . . you know. Red Team. Stuff.
no subject
There's a certain blankness that seems to start to flood over him. It's an answer that's only just good enough to keep him going forward with a direction and a reason to exist. But there's a hollowness to it, something that leaves him feeling more empty while simultaneously satisfied. Then he nods once in a detached way.]
I understand.
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[ Dagger's pretty sure there's something wrong with this situation, but he doesn't know if it's his problem or someone else's. People's feelings are dangerous things, and Dagger doesn't like to meddle with those. ]
Are you still gonna hit me when you get up?
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He looks over at him, seeming a bit confused and then takes in the damage of the area and Dagger's exposed face like he's just realizing what he did in a detached daze. Then he looks down again, expression and body language shifting a bit like he's ready to take any kind of punishment he knows he deserves.]
No.
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[ Dagger pets Bucky's head (because his awareness of how to comfort humans is mixed with child education and pet care), and then gets back to his feet. ]
So.
jfc dagger
He has no idea how to navigate something like this.]
Re: jfc dagger
[ Just relax. Or just try not to shoot anything. ]
Tell me when you're adequately comforted.
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So after a couple moments he slowly stands, steady on the outside, totally the opposite of that on the inside. A quick glance at Dagger and then a curt nod as he returns to avoiding looking at him.]
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So.
Let's never do that again.
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Yeah...]