foes: (scopes ★)
ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇs | ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴏʀ ғᴏᴇ ([personal profile] foes) wrote 2017-08-01 05:23 am (UTC)

[ 'Alan,' the man says, like he's been saying it all his life. Could be true. Not a deal-breaker if it isn't.

This one, though — he went through too much to seize the right to say 'Bucky' back in his tight, flesh-bound fist. He's not relaxing his grip anytime soon.

We're talking more than just one perishable resource, here, after all. We're talking networks. Which ones to keep live and electric, which ones you sure as hell cut the feed to before setting the motherboard alight.

Less than a quarter-mile, and they're there, moons bright over the dappled current, cutting countless little crescents into his vision. Bucky sees Alan's shape form beside him, disturbing the pattern. He examines them both, a shoulder's width apart, in the surface of the water.
]

See anything that looks like fish?

[ In other words — looks like water. Smells like water. Is it really? ]

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