Bucky is staring across the crowd at where Steve Rogers stands, still in some disbelief at what he'd done.
The last week has been unpleasant, though nowhere near the worst of his life, honestly he can barely remember what happened past the start of it. Being taken from the cell and pushed into this ridiculous outfit (ridiculous because it has absolutely no combat applications) and then into the arena was actually something of a wakeup call from the protective haze his mind had retreated into. He was fully prepared to do what he was supposed to do when Steve opened his mouth and drew the attention of the Capitol down on himself.
When the explosions had sounded he had thought for one dizzying second they had killed Steve, but no, it was others, it was a warning. This was going to be harder than he'd originally planned for.
But at least for now Bucky's not fighting, not here anyway. He couldn't reach a key in time and now he's just silently skirting the edge of the ice rink after having snapped off the blades of the ice skates with his metal hand, dismissing the smeared blood and organs from dead tributes easily and waiting until he's certain no one will try to kill Steve before he takes off himself to map out the arena and find supplies if there are any. The brand on his face aches and itches, there for anyone to see.
MCU!Bucky | Open
The last week has been unpleasant, though nowhere near the worst of his life, honestly he can barely remember what happened past the start of it. Being taken from the cell and pushed into this ridiculous outfit (ridiculous because it has absolutely no combat applications) and then into the arena was actually something of a wakeup call from the protective haze his mind had retreated into. He was fully prepared to do what he was supposed to do when Steve opened his mouth and drew the attention of the Capitol down on himself.
When the explosions had sounded he had thought for one dizzying second they had killed Steve, but no, it was others, it was a warning. This was going to be harder than he'd originally planned for.
But at least for now Bucky's not fighting, not here anyway. He couldn't reach a key in time and now he's just silently skirting the edge of the ice rink after having snapped off the blades of the ice skates with his metal hand, dismissing the smeared blood and organs from dead tributes easily and waiting until he's certain no one will try to kill Steve before he takes off himself to map out the arena and find supplies if there are any. The brand on his face aches and itches, there for anyone to see.