ever marching as to war

[onlyapassenger]

Bucky hadn't been anywhere near Pearl Harbor when the Japanese attacked. In fact, he'd been on the other side of the world, escorting Winston Churchill on a transatlantic flight to D.C. to meet with President Roosevelt the next morning. But Bucky'd seen action that day regardless; the Axis had planned a two-front attack, with the Japanese expected

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[with_diamonds]

The date wasn't significant enough to Lucy for it to have caught her attention any earlier, but for her, it had been recent history, something that everyone was told about. Standing at the door to the rec room from the kitchen, it didn't take a whole lot of time for her to piece everything together, what was pretty distinctly a World War II reel serving as a pretty good reminder, even if it was noticeably different from anything she'd ever learned about. That, in a place like this, was nothing to question.

Somehow, she wasn't surprised at all to see who was watching it, and for that reason, she walked out of the kitchen instead of back into it, considering him carefully for all of a moment before deciding it would be to drop onto the nearest couch, tucking her legs up to her sides. "What's all this?" she asked, gesturing with a tilt of her chin towards where the footage was playing. She'd just barely caught the names, noted them as familiar, but that made it even more his question to answer.

[onlyapassenger]

"One helluva good time," says Bucky, having since leaned forward to plant his elbows on his knees, his chin cupped in his palm. There's a wryness to his tone that he knows wouldn't've been there when he was younger, but the sentiment itself is honest enough; he knows the actuality of war, has been killed himself, though it obviously didn't stick, but compared to those years he spent working for the Soviets, these really were the good old days. He glances at Lucy from out of the corner of his eye, a smirk tugging at his mouth. For a moment he wonders if he shouldn't just shut it off, even if this part of his past has been public knowledge for decades, but in the end, decides against it; it'll be over soon, anyway.

"That's what it is."

[with_diamonds]

"Yeah, looks like," Lucy replied, a slight sarcastic edge to her voice, though she at least partly meant it, right on the line between sincerity and joking. A war wasn't most people's idea of a good time - hell, it wasn't hers - but he'd talked about this war before, and as such, she was no more surprised by his answer than she was the fact that he had been watching this in the first place. She couldn't claim to know him well, but some things, they spoke for themselves. Shifting a little, she leaned back against the couch, gaze leaving the film playing to fix on him, instead. "So that's Captain America, huh? And you're up there?"

[onlyapassenger]

"The sure-shootin' partner," Bucky says with a nod. As if on cue, the footage cuts to his teenage self letting loose with a torrent of gunfire, a grin stretched across his painfully young face from ear to ear. These days, he only really smiles like that around Natasha, and with her back home and him here, it's not a look that's seen a lot of use since he landed just offshore back in October. Jutting his chin towards the screen, he adds, "They really knew how to sell us, huh?"

[findherwayback]

Thalia might not be as academically minded as Annabeth was, but she liked history. It had its way of repeating itself which she could appreciate. Couple that with the fact that there was almost always more to the story than made the history books and she was all about it.

She knew what day it was even without the oh-so-subtle reminder from whatever the guy was watching on the projector. Stopping she leaned against the back of a chair and stared at the screen. Costume aside, she could admire skills like that.

"Okay, that guy is seriously a badass," she remarked with an appreciative nod.

[onlyapassenger]

"Who, Cap?" Bucky asks, turning around to match the face to the voice. It occurs to him that he's met this girl before, or at least someone who looks an awful lot like her; there are a few differences, though, ones that don't even need someone of his skill set to spot, the accent more than notable. This isn't the same person at all, but the resemblance is uncanny.

With having looked at the girl long enough for it to constitute staring, he returns his attention back to the footage on the screen, the surreal thought that he could've been referring to himself if this footage was any newer flitting through his mind before he casts it out. Realizing that she might not know who's who, a fact Bucky's had to come to terms with in the past couple of months with the population in general, he adds, "He's the one with the shield."

[findherwayback]

Thalia was half-inclined to point out that she had a pulse and had been functioning during the past century to at least grasp certain patriotic figures. Deciding against it she slid over the back of the chair, tucked her knees to her chest and nodded.

"Yep. That's the one." Her dad probably loved this, but in that war he had picked the winning side. Hell, he had probably made the winning side the winning side. But again, she didn't talk about that. "But I'm a sucker for a level-headed hero."

That's not entirely true, but she had a deep enough appreciation of history to count it as such.

[onlyapassenger]

It's stupid, he knows, but the girl's recognition fills him with an almost palpable relief; more often than not, any offhand mention he's made to Cap since landing on this rock has been met with a blank stare. While they'd served their country as a matter of principle and not publicity, the Island's still proven a surreal experience in that department. Everyone back home had heard of Captain America; his name was ubiquitous.

I never wanted the mantle. But Steve... he was right when he said it meant something different to me now, both the shield and the flag. Still, this right here isn't about me -- it's about him. And I've got absolutely no problem entertaining some flattery towards my best friend.

"Yeah?" says Bucky, brows arching as he looks over, once again, to the girl. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, one that's uncharacteristically fond. "Well, you really don't get much more level-headed than Steve, so you have good taste."

[burnwithus]

It's the sound of bombs exploding that brings me to the rec room. The sound is too tinny and artificial to be real, but even though my mind knows that it takes longer for my body to calm down. In the Games it's learned that you react or die. I dig fingernails into my palms before entering the room, my gaze following the flickering light to an image of a man in a costume. The music does a good job in making sure you know who's on the right side but I'm no stranger to propaganda.

Part of me wonders what the other story really is.

"What is this?" I'm not quite sure what I'm asking him, but it's the first thing that I think of. These are like District 13's propos. It's a different time and place, but other than that - nothing really changes, does it?

[onlyapassenger]

They've only really met the once, but Bucky got a good enough read on Katniss the last time they spoke to know she doesn't share his appreciation for war. Because the thing is, while he's never taken any pleasure out of killing, the War itself is home to some of his best and most treasured memories; the time he spent with Cap and the Invaders and all the rest isn't something he ever wants to lose again, having already done so once before at the hands of the Soviets. Idly, he wonders what other reels he might find if he looked through the shelf's offerings for a little while longer, if there wouldn't be something about the Winter Soldier buried between the questionable selection of romance novels and old comics with his face painted across the cover. Right before he landed in Tabula Rasa's ocean, Zemo had told him he didn't deserve a blank slate, and maybe he doesn't. One thing's for damn sure, though: he wouldn't be watching a reel of that footage in the middle of the Rec Room.

And with this Katniss girl looking so on edge, he

[burnwithus]

I wonder if he turned it off because it was a gesture, or because the footage itself was highly personal. He's a soldier, I know that much. And the video was too grainy to tell if he was the costumed man or not. But my fingernails have stopped digging their way into the skin of my palms, at the very least.

"Which one was you?" It's just a guess. I stare back at the blank screen, hoping that this is one of the few times I hear the sound of gunfire on the island. The place where it's supposed to be safe, but I still expect to hear the tromp of boots and muffled screams even after we've officially won the war. Because it won't be the last one. Sooner or later, the Districts - or maybe some other faction like the new Capitol - will find excuses to kill each other.

[onlyapassenger]

"The kid in the mask with the Tommy Gun," Bucky says with a wry smile he can't quite help, pulling the reel from out of the projector. Despite not having anything to play it on back in his newly asymmetrical, pink monstrosity of a hut, he puts the reel back in its case, and tucks the whole thing into the crook of his arm, intent on taking it with him when he leaves. "It's old footage, even for me."

[prodigaljaybird]

It's the sounds that draw him first. Nothing about the Compound is how he'd come to know it in his first days on the island. It's bent all funny looking, way too much of it is pink, and it looks like Santa threw up on it, but the movies he's used to hearing when he passes the rec room, they don't sound like this.

Jason pauses, mouth frozen in a scowl that has nothing to do with the cold of the flakes falling down and everything to do with their shape, and ducks his head into the rec room.

He's in time to hear Bucky's name called, and there he is, stuck in an armchair that looks all wrong for him, eyes glued to the projection on the wall. "Is that - " Jason starts and pauses, vision and mind momentarily filled up with the man in the mask and shield. Even in black and white, the shades and pattern leave little to the imagination, and Jason recalls what Bucky'd told him on his first day here. I'm Captain America.

"Is that you?"

[onlyapassenger]

He almost laughs, but then Bucky remembers that he can count on one hand the number of people he's told his current identity to, and he stops himself just in time, his tongue held lightly between his teeth. In Jason's case, especially, the question is entirely warranted, which is a strange thing to think about, when all is said and done, but something to has to be taken into account.

Turning to face the kid, Bucky pulls a face, his expression one of feigned disbelief all the same; the truth is, just because it's not Jason's fault that he doesn't know any better doesn't make it any less strange. With a sharp inhale, Bucky finally says, "Yes and no."

[prodigaljaybird]

Jason's mouth quirks, body so close to the projection now that he's near to in the way when he tips a look back at Bucky. "How can it be both?"

Even as he says it, he's near to answering his own question. The man's in a half mask, far more obscuring than a simple domino, but that jawline...it doesn't look like Bucky's. Jason watches the men move about, satellites to the powerful, costumed man at their center, and soon his eyes settle on another face, one that's growing more familiar all the time.

"Is that you?"

[onlyapassenger]

Domino masks are useful only around strangers, in situations that don't call for a lot of prolonged face-to-face communication. Given enough time to stare at a person, it's just not going to fool anyone for very long, least of all someone who's been trained to observe. Maybe they only met over a month ago, and there's probably still a lot of crazy crap they can't even guess about each other, but if there's one thing Bucky knows about Jason, it's that the kid has a sharp pair of eyes. Old as the footage is, when the scene cuts to a teenage Bucky, grinning from ear to ear as he lets his trigger finger run happy, there's really no point in denying it's him on the screen.

"I was a hit with the Bobby sox set, what can I say?"

[bennet_beauty]

It was a terrible thing to come across, Jane realized. She had heard of stories of the wars from Carwood, but stood there staring and not sure what she was watching. "What is this?" she found herself asking, the words slipping past her lips softly before she even registered she was speaking.

[onlyapassenger]

There's something so distinctly old-fashioned about the woman who speaks up from behind him that Bucky wonders if he's meant to be standing just to acknowledge her presence, not unfamiliar with the way the Island pulls folks from different times. Ultimately, though, it's not a question of manners that sees him on his feet so much as it's her tone. Within a matter of seconds, he's shut off the projector with a simple flick of the switch, the sounds and images fading to leave behind only a blank screen. The War, he's learned, isn't for everyone, and he's not about to traumatize some poor girl just because he's feeling a little nostalgic.

"Nothing to worry about, Miss."

[bennet_beauty]

Jane drifted ever closer and she began to understand the images. They were strange, but familiar due to the class she had taken. "I'm sorry," she apologized, bowing her head to avoid impropriety. "I do not wish to pry, it's merely that the scenes looked very reminiscent of a subject I once learned in a class here. And...and I do wish to know as much as possible. When did these events take place?"

[onlyapassenger]

Pulling the reel from the projector, Bucky replaces it into its case, and despite having no means to play the damn thing back in his cupcake of a hut, he tucks it into the crook of his arm, intent on taking it with him when he leaves. Not a man of great manners, he can't help but feel the slightest bit uncouth around this girl, this woman, who speaks of a refinement he can't quite comprehend, and it makes him shift his weight uncomfortably, for all that she seems genuinely interested in what had been playing just moments before. Talking about the War with someone so clearly inexperienced in such matters always makes for an interesting exercise, and, admittedly, it's not always one he's had a lot success with.

"During the Second World War," he replies.