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Oi.

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Bucky turned and saw a young pink-haired lady running towards him, asking for a map.

"Sorry. I don't have one. But if you'd like, I can show you around."

He has only been in the Valley for a short time, but has managed to do plenty of exploration which should prove handy for helping out other new residents.

Five people started following you

After wandering around a bit. She found herself a bit lost. The town seemed small enough to explore without getting lost, but she was wrong. She needed help and perhaps a map would do something. Scanning the area she came across someone and ran up to them

"Oh Excuse me! I was wondering if you had a map of this area. I’m a bit lost" She asked

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/gonna be active again after Christmas :>

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Captain America & The Winther Soldier - Chris Samnee

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Bucky assumed the other patron probably had one too many drinks. This particular bar wasn’t the kind of social hangout in which one would engage in small talk and a person would have to be at least buzzed to consider having a chat.

He was tempted to ignore the man but thought that might aggravate him. He settled on short noncommittal phrases. Drowning sorrows? “Not at all,” he muttered. Keep it simple and maybe the man would return to his own business. Bucky didn’t mean to be so terse. He was generally a friendly fellow and he certainly wouldn’t mind gaining new acquaintances in this foreign place. However he had spent nearly the entire day traveling through the town and he felt a tad too weary for conversation.

As moments passed, the stranger appeared to gradually become vexed and Bucky wasn’t certain if it was his fault or if the other man just happened to be a grumpy drunk. He couldn’t shake the impression that he somehow displeased the stranger or possibly made him feel threatened, which was totally absurd considering he only came in for a drink.

He was thinking about leaving when the stranger apparently had enough of the place’s atmosphere, addressing everyone with a frustrated outburst and destroying the bar’s merchandise. Though violent, the man had a valid point about the unnatural tranquility. Bucky’s own understated reaction to his death surprised him despite not even remembering his death, which would surely provide a reason to panic. It’s not as if it never bothered him but somehow he kept pushing those thoughts away…

He’d like to stop avoiding the issue and mull it over but there was the pressing matter of a potentially dangerous man. Worrying about safety when one was already dead was laughable but the afterlife was not entirely free of peril. The stranger could hurt someone, including himself, and Bucky couldn’t remain idle.

He rose from his seat and looked straight into the man’s eyes.

“Take it easy.”

He couldn’t predict how the stranger would respond but he hoped for a sensible outcome. He was armed and ready to fight if necessary but the last thing anyone needed was a bar brawl. 

Should've Stayed Dead | Open

Booker smirked slightly, seeing that the guy had enough sense to sit a little while away. Didn’t look like the kinda guy to take any trouble though. Probably seen some rough times himself- hell, if he was here, he must have done. He looked down into his drink, sloshing it around in the glass before bringing it up to his mouth, downing it all at once. Slamming it back down, he rested his forearms against the bar this time, not going back for another one. 

His mind had been reeling ever since he’d arrived in this place, and he was looking for any excuse to take his mind elsewhere so each little detail seemed to distract him with the slightest of ease. The order of stout brought a chuckle from him, at least someone was here solely to have a nice drink. “Not looking to drown any sorrows, huh?” he asked the stranger without turning to him, looking down at his glass as he turned it over and over in his hands. “Lucky guy,” he remarked, clinking the glass against the wooden counter repeatedly in a slow rhythm.

A short period of silence came after until the man went to take a drink, when Booker noticed something odd. Booker had seen some twisted creations in Columbia, the Handymen, the Motorized Patriots… Songbird. He’d grown accustomed to keeping an eye out for any new inventions made to bring an end to any opposition to the Prophet, keeping a few signposts fresh in his mind to look out for himself. The clink, unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it, as hand met glass. It wasn’t the sound human flesh made, that was for sure. Rather than approach the issue head on, he turned towards the customers who had scattered from the bar to the booths. “None of you heard that? Really? Hrn,” he questioned, with an irritated look on his face. Last thing he needed right now was a threat, but he was wary of attacking a stranger, especially on a gut feeling about something that might not even be relevant in this new location he found himself in.

He shook it off, turning back from the patrons of the bar to his glass, still tumbling between his fingers in an effort to take his mind off things but it was useless. The fact that had been eating away at him this whole time wouldn’t be ignored, and he couldn’t help but bring it up, even to these strangers. “Alright, this is all too goddamn calm.” He slammed the glass down on the counter, not with enough force to smash but it dug in to the wood slightly, arousing the attention of everyone in the bar again. “We are all dead. Isn’t that what this place is? Some sort of afterlife? Why the hell,” his hand clasped around the glass, this time not to take a drink, but to take a shot. “Are you all so goddamn calm about it?!” He drew back his arm as his question finished, throwing the glass at the back of the bar, shattering several bottles as well as the thrown glass. 

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Bucky noticed the girl seemed mildly amused about something but he didn’t pursue the matter. He sensed nothing malicious from her and assumed she was having a private laugh—probably at his expense. He didn’t mind. One would have to have a massive and fragile ego to be offended by a little kid. “Humble” wasn’t necessarily the right word to describe Bucky but he certainly knew a few things about modesty.

He followed Bianca through the library entrance, making sure to initially stay clear of the door as it opened rather than risk another collision. Fortunately the girl had apparently learned a valuable lesson and pulled the door handle with more caution in mind.

The library was a bit on the timeworn side but from a quick look at things, it seemed to house more books than one would expect of a small town establishment. Kind of suspicious, Bucky thought. However, this was the afterlife. He supposed this library the town’s least abnormal aspect.

“Where should we start?” 

“Maybe there’s a local history section in here.”

He hoped the library’s collection wasn’t as tightlipped as the local residents though a significant part of him urged him to keep his expectations low. Since his arrival, he had been on a personal recon mission that has sadly been less than fruitful so far. In the end, the library might now have the information he craved.

Reality? Yeah, probably. ;;Open.

╰While she didn’t exactly have the right to consider a name odd, considering both her and her brother’s,  the name ‘Bucky’ seemed just the slightest bit strange to her. That might be because she had grown up with Italian names and Italian culture before moving to America, however, so she didn’t ponder it for too long. Who was she to judge someone based on their name?

Bucky actually seemed pretty interesting. Maybe he had been given that name because of something. Perhaps he had tamed a horse that had previously bucked everyone else off, thus earning him the title. The girl’s mouth turned up at this thought, a silent but sure laugh bubbling from inside of her, warming what the cold air had otherwise chilled.

While it was different for her to be so outgoing when she was usually reserved – reserved and not shy, like people often assumed – death had changed something in her. Maybe she was just feeling the smallest bit reckless; maybe actually saying whatever her not-yet-fully matured mind thought of didn’t seem like a bad idea. Either way, she had found herself in the presence of a very entertaining person.

Something about the way he kept his words short comforted her. There was no need for things to get personal. If she hadn’t always been the elder sibling herself, maybe she would recognize the feeling as just that – the way one would feel around an older brother. As it was, she settled for a simple contentment of relaxation.  

“It’s not inconvenient,” the Hunter replied deftly, turning on her heel just like that and pulling (more carefully) the door she had only recently thrown open. Bianca didn’t wait for a sign that the male was following. The only way for either of them was in, so there was no need for her to stall.

“Where should we start?” 

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((Slowly working on replies and drafting open posts...))

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Happy Thanksgiving!

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Bucky supposed there were worse places to grab a drink. The place was in an odd, out-of-the-way location that probably didn’t attract much attention. He wouldn’t be surprised if he just came across a storefront for a drug ring or a local hang out for crooks—something along those lines.

He had been wandering around town, hoping to learn more about the place and found himself quite a long distance from New Town, where he had recently set up base. He stepped into the bar, thinking he ought to rest for a moment, have a drink and collect his thoughts before trekking back home.

Upon entry, one of the bar’s patrons turned to look at the new arrival. The stranger didn’t immediately stand out to Bucky—the entire town was full of offbeat characters after all—though something about him seemed off and perhaps a tad surly. Bucky nodded politely and approached the counter, seating himself two stools away from the stranger. The other man didn’t intimidate him but there was an unspoken rule about avoiding adjacent seats when there were plenty of other places to sit.

He waited his turn before ordering and requested a stout, which seemed like the most appetizing beverage available. He paid up front, setting down a few bills as well as a little extra for tip. (Sometimes it pays to get on a bartender’s good side.) Without uttering a word, the bartender poured beer from the tap and laid a glass before the new customer. To the bar’s credit, it actually used clean glasses, which Bucky interpreted as a good sign.

Earlier he had activated his arm’s holographic feature, masking his prosthetic as a normal limb but if one listened carefully, the sound of metal against glass could be heard as he lifted the glass and took a huge swig.

It didn’t take long for him to notice that the bar seemed to have a nervous atmosphere and was most definitely not the best place to relax. His eyes shifted briefly toward the stranger, who was apparently the only patron not dripping in sweat. Trouble? Maybe but Bucky wasn’t intent on sticking his nose into other people’s business unless necessary.

Should've Stayed Dead | Open

Death came pretty easily to Booker DeWitt. He’d wish it on himself so many times, for all his mistakes made in the past.  He could never bring himself to let go though. Not until those final moments when he learned that his death would be of vital importance. He was prepared to go, and as he was submerged under the water, not to come up ever again, he thought maybe he’d finally be at peace. But the universe had other plans for Booker DeWitt. When he’d awoken in the train station, he couldn’t help but laugh at this cruel joke. At this place, at his being here, at the whole situation. How hilarious it had been to suppose for even a moment that he could go quietly into the night. A real laugh riot. 

He’d moved on from the train station quickly, his laughter slowly growing quieter until it became a low, growling anger inside him, ready to lash out at any moment. His exploration of the town showed it to be a bit more modern than the settings he was used to, but still rustic in a way. Still seemed a lot more mundane than all the places Elizabeth had shown him. Cities thriving at the bottom of the ocean, buildings held above the clouds by quantum physics… and, now a quaint seaside town for him to rot away in. 

He settled down in a small, dank bar, hidden away from sight in an alley near the seafront. He slumped into a stall by the bar, next to one of the already present customers who scarpered after Booker shot him a look like he was ready to tear his throat out. “Whiskey, double,” he murmured, loud enough for the bartender to hear. The drink was presented to him, and it had barely clinked against the grimy surface of the bar before Booker brought it up to his lips and downed the drink. He slammed it back down onto the counter and held it for a few minutes in silence. Eventually, he gestured for another and the bartender obliged, hoping this man would cause no trouble whilst he was here. As the drink was being poured, the door creaked open, prompting Booker to look over at the new person, and figure out if they’d dare to sit next to him. 

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“Nice to meet you, Bianca.” This chance meeting was pleasant enough… once one ignores the indiscretion with slamming the door. Fortunately Bucky was not to hold grudges over such a petty issue. “Everyone calls me Bucky.”

Given his past and status, he wasn’t the sort to freely mention his name to anyone—not even his nickname—but his circumstances have changed. As far as he was concerned, virtually no one in this town recognized his name and the stories associated with it. He was not especially fond of this afterlife but he certainly welcomed the anonymity it provided.

It was awfully kind of the girl to offer further assistance. Bucky half-expected her to go on her merry way after giving him an apology and a bit of counsel but he supposed some folks were just that benevolent. He didn’t often see folks like that nowadays, not he was one to pine for the “good old days” when everyone was polite… especially since he was quite rowdy during his own youth.

“Let me help you. You probably came here for research or something, right? I can help you look.” 

“If it’s not too inconvenient, I would appreciate it.”

He would rather not burden anyone else with his tasks, even if there were as simple as finding a few books. The girl probably had places to go and things to do. He also felt somewhat awkward about being led around by a kid. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed but the thought of a preteen assisting a spy operative of all people was somewhere on the funny side. He imagined his friends from back home having a small laugh at his expense. Heck, he would find it amusing, too.

However he supposed he could use some company, which was more than he could ask for in this strange new world.

Reality? Yeah, probably. ;;Open.

╰Not finding anything ‘too, uh, personal right away’ was going to be a feat. Bianca had gone into the library with hopes of discovering more on this place – not herself – and regardless had come face to face with a book naming all of her family. It was an unsettling experience, to say the least, and there was a battle of warring interests inside of her.

One part of her wanted to simply hide the book so that no one else could have it; what right did other people have to look at anything involving her family? Another part of her simply wanted to get to somewhere private as soon as possible and pry all secrets that she could from the text. There was so much that she didn’t know about her life. There were so many questions, so many blank spots in her memory, there was just so much.  

This guy was probably the nicest person she’d met all day. She didn’t count the other residents here, the people she had talked to when she first arrived. There was something unsettling about them, and somehow she could tell that they weren’t normal. They weren’t dead in the same way everyone else was – and don’t ask her how she knew some of the other people here were dead, because she doesn’t know. She can just tell.

The Hunter still felt bad about hitting this man with a door, so despite having apologized and seemingly been forgiven, she wanted to make it up to him. “Bianca,” she said randomly. “That’s my name.” She probably should have introduced herself sooner, but for some reason she hadn’t. The brunette was usually pretty polite, so that could be blamed on her nerves. It wasn’t everyday you died and woke up in some weird place.

“Let me help you. You probably came here for research or something, right? I can help you look.” 

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If Bucky knew what the girl was thinking he would be quite flabbergasted. He did his best to be good person but he figured that in his current dark military attire, most civilians would assume he was more likely to blow their faces off rather than save them. Back home, he primarily worked in the shadows and didn’t have to directly deal with people. However, Asphodel Valley was another story in which he was out in the open and forced to make contact with “regular” folk. The pistol and tactical knife he bore probably didn’t help his image but he didn’t feel comfortable leaving them behind somewhere.

“...Be prepared when you go in there. The books seem to know a lot about the people here. And the people who have just arrived.” 

“Oh. Thanks.”

The girl offered peculiar advice but Bucky didn’t think there might have been something off about the girl. His thoughts shifted back to the town. It didn’t take a genius to see there was something mystical about this place and it definitely wouldn’t surprise Bucky if the afterlife just happened to have a lot of information about its new inhabitants, including one’s shady past… There could be a tome about him within the library but he wasn’t sure if his curiosity was strong enough to search for it let alone look through its contents. Until recent years, he lived a troubled life (understatement of the year) and his past always had a way of catching up to him.

“Well, I’m just interested in the history of this place. I probably won’t find anything too, uh, personal right away.”

At least he hoped so. He would like to avoid having old baggage thrown on top of this afterlife business. There was already too much on his plate.

Reality? Yeah, probably. ;;Open.

╰Superheroes and anything else of that sort were things that Bianca knew a lot about. How could she not? Her little brother had practically been obsessed with all things magical or amazing – anything adventurous caught his attention.

When she was younger, life had been different. Anyone who spends seventy years caught in a time warping hotel would feel the same. She didn’t know exactly how long she had been there, only that it had felt like a month, but when she and her brother left she had known something was wrong. She couldn’t tell what, couldn’t understand why there was this big lapse in her memory, but she knew something was wrong.

Suddenly things like magic or superheroes weren’t such unrealistic things. Apparently she was a demigod, monsters existed, and all the old Greek stories were true. Because of the revelation of those things before she died, it wasn’t a bit surprising that the first thing that came into her mind when she saw the man was, simply put, ‘woah’.

Despite having been pushed back by the door that she had carelessly thrown open, the man was awe-inspiring. That wasn’t something she liked admitting, and any of the other Hunters would have probably scowled at him, but she was still new to serving the goddess Artemis and the annoyance or disgust she was supposed to have (based on her observations of the others) hadn’t had time to develop.

Denying that he looked pretty strong would be impossible.

“I won’t worry about it, if you say so,” her head tilted to the side, expression suddenly very curious. “But I still do feel a little bad about hitting you with a door. I’ll give you some free advice, okay?” Arms crossing over her chest, she frowned, juvenile maturity setting in. “You probably came here for a reason, right? The library, I mean. I wasn’t kidding when I said this place is weird. Be prepared when you go in there. The books seem to know a lot about the people here. And the people who have just arrived.” 

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Captain America vol. 7 #13

"I know what you’re thinking, punk. You’re thinking, ‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’ Now to tell you the truth I forgot myself in all this excitement. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and will blow you head clean off, you’ve gotta ask yourself a question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk?" ~Dirty Harry

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So Bucky wasn’t hallucinating and there actually was something lurking in the vicinity. Whatever relief he felt was soon washed away with unease. He didn’t know what was out there and what it wanted. Perhaps he and the stranger were in its territory and the thing was keeping watch. Or maybe it was a predator.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of metal and he turned his eyes towards the stranger, who had drawn a pair of blades. The young man seemed anxious and ready for battle.

“Hey, we don’t know if the thing is hostile. Don’t jump the gun just yet.”

Despite his words, Bucky reached for his pistol, keeping it in its holster but ready to draw it and shoot if necessary. Unfortunately he didn’t have most of his gear but his lone pistol, which packed quite a punch, would have to do for now. With any luck, they could simply walk away and avoid a skirmish altogether.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, the shadow resurfaced, appearing in full view about ten yards behind the young man. It was the darkest black Bucky had ever seen and lacked any discernible features aside from its vaguely humanoid shape. It was crouched on all fours, as if ready to pounce.

“It’s behind you,” Bucky warned.

Open: Obscurity

The lack of knowledge the man made apparent that he possessed was enough to dampen the boy’s spirits just that fraction more. He was half unsure as to why he bothered, asking around and hoping that perhaps someone might have all of the answers instead of partial pieces of a truth he had convinced himself to be a lie. The man was rather peculiar-looking, then again half of the people he’d met in the so called afterlife covered their backs with garments he had not seen before, their styles so obviously tailored to different worlds, different lives. Not exactly concerned about his own appearance in relation to everyone else, it was rather bizarre for him to notice such things, but he had found that since ‘dying' Eren had taken more of an interest in the people around him, thus resulting in their own stories and past.

He’d been ready to bid the man farewell, maybe even apologise for not being able to help the stranger would might have felt as downcast as he, when a lack of light had swept within the background situated behind the stranger. Eren nearly jumped in surprise, yet instead instinctively reached for the blades at his sides, the thick sound of metal upon metal sounding as they were withdrawn and readied.

        ”What…what was that…”

Usually his enemy was so much taller, so much more obvious that a scampering shadow frightened him somewhat. Still, there was a mixture of anger within his tone, accompanying that obvious fear. 

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Aside from the occasional shadow and off-kilter resident, Asphodel Valley seemed relatively peaceful. However Bucky found it strangely unsettling and lethargic. A small part of him wondered if this entire thing was a dream or some kind of simulator but deep down he knew neither scenario was correct. He wasn’t accustomed to a place like this. Perhaps the stagnation was just getting to him. 

No matter what was actually happening, he couldn’t remain idle. As far as he could tell, escape was impossible but the least he could do was learn more about the town. The townsfolk were evasive as usual but they were generous enough to provide directions to the library.

Maybe they’re starting to like me, Bucky thought as he made his way to Old Town. It didn’t take long to find the library and he was about to enter when the front door unexpectedly slammed open, striking him with enough force to throw him off balance. Stumbling backwards, Bucky took hold of a nearby railing and managed to remain on his feet.

He wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed—himself or the girl who just committed the offense.

“Oh my gods, I’m sorry. This place is just really.. weird, I guess. I’m a little on edge. Are you alright? I swear I wasn't trying to kill you or anything.” 

“Uh. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m fine.”

Bucky has dealt with worse. If he could survive a near fatal beating from a god, he could handle a collision with a door.

Reality? Yeah, probably. ;;Open.

╰The library, surprisingly, was far busier than expected. There couldn’t be that many book lovers here. The door was almost constantly swishing open and then closing with a soft thud as someone either entered or left; not many people seemed to stay for long periods of time. It seemed almost as if they came, were drawn to a book, and then were so disturbed or intrigued by its contents that they rushed away, literature in hand.

As it was, even she seemed to be drawn to a particular section. Her footsteps were quiet. Ever since she had become a Huntress, she found that her feet fell lighter. Where she would have once tripped over something, stumbled into a table, or made some sort of sound, she now moved very adeptly. It would have made her curious if she gave any more attention to it than the briefest thought.

Still seeming to be pulled forward by a deep, unknown feeling, dark eyes caught sight of a book labeled something seemingly innocent. Angelo. Her surname. It wasn’t too rare of a name for someone of Italian decent to have, not so much for her to be frightened, but it did spark an interest big enough that she picked it up. Sure enough, three pages in and it had both her and her brother’s names written in small text. That’s what did it, what sent a jolt through her and what made her understand the hurried nature of everyone’s movements. She closed the book and placed it into her bag (not bothering to check it out), and turned on her heel.

In the end, though she was more agile, she still had the clumsiness of the twelve year old that she was. As was shown when she opened the door, hitting the person on the other side. The young girl had actually thrown the door open rather hard with her excited pace, so it would be no wonder if the person fell.

“Ah!” Bianca cursed herself under her breath, grimacing and moving out of the doorway so that she could close it behind her. “Oh my gods, I’m sorry. This place is just really.. weird, I guess. I’m a little on edge. Are you alright? I swear I wasn't trying to kill you or anything.”  Considering a lot of people here were dead already, that'd be difficult. 

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thfury replied to your post: .

{ im replying to our thingy in a few mins sorry ive been so slow -_- }

((Don't sweat it. I'm always slow as molasses when I rp so it's no biggie. シ))

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