ARMS locker hahahha get it
28/2/15 09:58![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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kyouyasangels_incBucky wakes from a particularly restful sleep, a rare but welcome deep slumber. He thinks nothing is out of the ordinary (well, doesn’t think much about anything--it’s impossible until a shower) as he stumbles out of bed to shuffle to the bathroom. He doesn’t stop to check on the cybernetic arm he’d left resting on his dresser before going to sleep, because why would he need to? It’s not like it’s going anywhere, right?
He drops trou and switches on the shower, and finally after a long, blissful moment with the hot water, after which he feels remotely human again, he steps out and lazily towels off. Water beads over his skin on the parts he missed but he doesn’t bother to care as he slings the towel over his shoulder and makes his way back into the bedroom.
He goes about his business, pulling clothes out and tossing them onto the bed, before something catches his eye. Or rather, the absence of something--the absence of shiny silver glinting in the light cutting through the gap in the curtains.
“What the fuck.”
He pulls the towel down and loosely tucks it around his waist before retrieving a knife from under the piles of underwear in his top drawer. If it’s them, somebody to finish the job, he’s prepared (except the scant clothing - that could make for an awkward sitch, but one he’s not thinking about). He makes his way slowly over to his closet, peering in. Nothing. So, there’s one thing left to do: go out into the apartment and hunt down his limb. Maybe he just placed it elsewhere, though he knew that wasn’t possible.
Not today, Satan. Not today.
He drops trou and switches on the shower, and finally after a long, blissful moment with the hot water, after which he feels remotely human again, he steps out and lazily towels off. Water beads over his skin on the parts he missed but he doesn’t bother to care as he slings the towel over his shoulder and makes his way back into the bedroom.
He goes about his business, pulling clothes out and tossing them onto the bed, before something catches his eye. Or rather, the absence of something--the absence of shiny silver glinting in the light cutting through the gap in the curtains.
“What the fuck.”
He pulls the towel down and loosely tucks it around his waist before retrieving a knife from under the piles of underwear in his top drawer. If it’s them, somebody to finish the job, he’s prepared (except the scant clothing - that could make for an awkward sitch, but one he’s not thinking about). He makes his way slowly over to his closet, peering in. Nothing. So, there’s one thing left to do: go out into the apartment and hunt down his limb. Maybe he just placed it elsewhere, though he knew that wasn’t possible.
Not today, Satan. Not today.
toot!!
9/3/15 04:26 (UTC)With the next move will come his next slide for the door. Lupin expected the man to know something's up quickly, but he didn't expect a peek in the pantry-- is he after underwear gnomes or something? He's feeling cocky, powerful, with the weight of the arm against the dip of his spine.
Which is exactly why he freezes, doesn't breathe when Bucky storms back in and he scans for him with those non cyborg possibly eyes. You could hear a pin drop in the silence.
When he can't take it anymore and has to exhale, the couch exhales with him.
Well shit.
Re: toot!!
13/3/15 21:07 (UTC)Bucky pads over to the sofa and creeps around to the back of it, looking at the fabric closely to check any bodily impressions* but sees none, so. He drops to all four--er, threes--grabs the fabric at the bottom and, with bated breath and high hopes, yanks it up to see--
--not a goddamn thing.
He stands and leans back on the back of the sofa, sighing as had his unknown companion. Thinking about his irritation level at the missing limb throbbed at the inside of his head until he growled in frustration and plunged the knife into the back of the sofa (non-lethally ofc), adding yet another hole to it.
Where the hell could it be?
*(I thought of this and I can’t stop laughing help https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUDhIIkLo20)
(no subject)
14/3/15 03:36 (UTC)From his vantage point, flattened against the glass pane of the window, beneath curtains. Now, the lay person of no thief value might say "that's a really damn stupid hiding place, what are you, five" but a master truly knows how to work it. He's as still as a statue aside from his fingers, which reach with precision for the latch.
The sound of Lupin's heart jumps in his ears at the sound of fabric and cushion ripping beneath the edge of a knife, but that isn't enough to jostle him.