eachdraidh | first jive ⚛ video ⚛ open to both courts

(For those who are online, if you will, the video feed of both courts will flicker on to the picture of a man who looks surprisingly calm all things considered. His hair is neatly combed back and parted, his clothing well put together, and there’s a borderline arrogant smile that plays at his lips. If it had taken him a half dozen times to get the locket to work correctly for him, it didn’t show on his face, but for him it was practically like magic.

It was technology that was still years away from where he was, he had only recently managed to install a telephone in his car (and promptly sold the idea for a handsome profit), but even it had been quite an ordeal, there were a dozen wires, it needed a long and thick antennae to work, and if you weren’t careful it could drain your battery in a heartbeat if you weren’t careful, but it was technology that he felt had promise. Adding the ability to view the person on the other end of the line was something he hadn’t even thought about trying, let alone making it so small and portable. Sure, he had managed to miniaturise a camera lens for a pen, but that was just for still photos. He was intrigued by it, though, a fascinating idea (one he wished he had been the one to come up with), and he didn’t hide his impression. He didn’t dare attempt to pop it open, however, lest he not be able to put it back together. While the imps had been kind to him thus far, he hadn't argued much when he'd been dragged away, he wasn’t sure how well they’d take to him breaking one of the gifts that he had been given.

For the time being he would leave it as it was, but eventually he might ask if someone knew just how they worked. Just for the sake of curiosity.)

So I take it this place doesn’t take too kindly to technology of any kind, huh? Even one as simple as a battery. (He raises his wrist to show the watch on his arm, it had stopped when he had arrived, and though it was currently useless, he couldn’t take it off. He was too used to wearing it and would feel naked without it.) Is there anywhere around here where they sell watches you wind? Or parts so I can convert this one?

(There’s a pause, he takes his hand down again and shrugs his shoulders lightly.)

Anyway. Good morning. My name is Howard Stark, and back home I was an inventor of sorts, so I’m not entirely sure why they’ve brought me here, unless it’s to update this place somehow. My company’s goal was to build a better and brighter tomorrow, and it looks like this place could use a bit of that. It’ll be like going back in time with what I have to work with, but I’m sure I can manage if that’s what’s wanted.

So, tell me a little bit about yourself, mysterious person on the other side of the magical locket. What makes you special?

Unseelie Locked

Who’s in charge of your weapons division? Back home, right before I was brought here, we had a war that ended, and I worked in weapons on the winning side. I can’t imagine that’s a coincidence.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He nods.

It's not the only thing they did to him. But he's not going to go into that, in part because he has no way to explain properly, in part because the conversation hasn't lead there yet, and partly because he just doesn't want to right now.

The arm, though. He can talk about that.]

It didn't work here at first. But I asked, and they made it work.

(This is worse than awkward pillow talk, and he can't really just run away like he normally would either. Most of the time, though, he doesn't have to deal with this kind of stuff. Conversation usually comes more naturally to him.)

So it's not just for show then, huh? (Smile? give him something, here.)

What does it do?

[Sorry Howard, but this isn't the Bucky Barnes you knew. He doesn't smile.

He shrugs.]

It's strong. Fast. Durable.

(Alas, he'll keep trying. He doesn't have anything to drink, so humour, even bad, is his second escape from dealing with feelings.)

Do you know what it's made out of?

No.

[They didn't see fit to let him have that kind of information. But...]

The smith here had to gut it to make it work.

(Well that is interesting at least? Howard is going to perk up a little.) Do you think he kept what he took out? I'd like to take a look at it. If you don't mind. (Is that an invasion of privacy?)

[He shrugs.]

I don't know. You could ask. His name is Gendry Waters.

I'll have to find him, then.

If they managed to find more vibranium, that's the stuff Steve's shield is made of. That'd be...(interesting? How would he explain that? But they had tried to kill him over it, so he's always curious to if they managed to get it from another source.)

Where are you? (Which court?)

Unseelie. A manor in La Llorona. Belongs to Ariadne.

Oh. Oh! Good. Great, actually. (Hey look, a real smile is going to light up Howard's face now, a little of the worry from earlier fading away, at least for a little bit. That makes things a lot easier.) We're on the same side.

[He tilts his head, considering.]

Steve's not.

[Things could be better.]

(wOW JAMES. wtg. The little brightness he had is gone like a blown out candle.)

Rogers is here?

[Wow he's good at that. Sorry.]

Yes. Seelie.

[He scowls a little when he says it because it's just made things even more complicated than they already are.]

(There's a lot that goes through Howard's mind at that moment. Rogers is alive, (that's almost a bigger shock than Barnes. HYDRA getting ahold of him, it's almost understandable. They never went after the body. They should have. But Steve was at the bottom of an ocean and he was searching for him, he would have known if someone had snuck in under his nose and grabbed him.

But more so just what this whole war means. He hadn't thought that maybe he was on...a less favourable side? How would that be said.)

Oh. That's...interesting.

(Bad interesting. Definitely bad interesting.) Anyone else?

[He frowns, then shakes his head.]

No one you know.

No man by the name Edwin Jarvis? (:c)

I suppose that might be a relief. I kind of wish we had some of the Commandos. They were good guys.

[He tilts his head. That name is not familiar to him at all.

And the Commandos... he can't remember them either. Not really. Vague shapes of men in battle, joking and laughing in camp... but their faces aren't at all clear and neither are their names.]

I don't remember.

(In a way relieving, at least, if James doesn't know him, maybe he's not here. Howard hadn't seen him at the shindig, and he would have thought/hoped his butler would ask for him if he was at the other court.

Ah, well. Howard's head tilts slightly, before giving a gentle nod.)

That's alright. In the past, anyway. Not going to help much in the here and now.

[He sighs, shrugging a little.]

Don't remember most things.

They took your memories?

[He winces a little, not because the question hurts, but because he does remember how they took his memories.]

Yes. Repeatedly.

(Well shit. Howard is going to frown a lot at that.)

I'm sorry we didn't find you.

[He shrugs. He's not angry or bitter about it. They didn't think he had survived. It makes sense. He shouldn't have survived. But apparently whatever they did to him in Zola's lab the first time around was enough to make him hard to kill. And then Zola was on their side, under their noses.

They couldn't have known.

He's not upset. Not about any of that.]

Couldn't have known.

(And Howard shrugs too, because no, they couldn't have known, but it still feels like the right thing to say.)

I know. But I'm still sorry. It's not right what was done to you.

[He's quiet for a moment, then he shakes his head.]

No.

[He lets out a breath.]

But it's done.

[He's been taken apart and put back together again and that can't be changed.]

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