silberfuchs: (adoring)
Albert Heinrich ([personal profile] silberfuchs) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2014-11-14 10:17 am

[Open with Closed prompts] We are all our hands and holders

Who| Albert and various people
What| Doing various plotted things, and also an open prompt!
Where| Around the Tower and maybe in the city
When| Through this week, after the kid's arena (back or forward dated as desired, but not too far forward)
Warnings/Notes| Main post is a general open prompt, character specific prompts are in the comments.

With that awful and thankfully short children-only Arena behind them, Albert has focused on his physical therapy as much as possible. He's walking without a cane entirely now, working out again in the mornings - or rather, the afternoons. Jet still comes up the second the curfew is lifted and they fall asleep together for a few hours. He still feels on edge, like they're simply biding their time until the next Arena, and then the next, rats running the wheels. It's frustrating.

To keep that frustration to manageable levels he tries to find other things to occupy his mind, worthwhile goals. During curfew hours he spends time writing music again, a practice to re-hone his fine motor function with a pen but also calm his mind. During the unconfined hours of the day, in what little time he spends without his husband (or sometimes with Jet), Albert makes other plans with the friends and allies he's made here as well as potentially looking for new ones.

He can be found nearly anywhere around in the afternoon and evening, most often in the Training Center or at the piano in the lobby, testing the strings of notes and chords he'd written the night previous. If anyone wants to join him for training they're welcome to do so, and even if he does seem a little shy, he doesn't mind an audience to his playing either. He needs feedback, of course, or else how will he improve? And if someone has in mind to go out somewhere, or runs into him on the street while purchasing more paper or more raw ingredients for Bruce's habit of stress cooking throughout the night, then he'll usually be pleased to stop for a chat.
tookthewheel: (I need a break)

[personal profile] tookthewheel 2014-11-18 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
In 1944 Bucky had been at war, far away from home, slogging through the battlefields of Europe alongside Steve and the Howling Commandos. Not always though, sometimes they'd return to London between deployments, sometimes they'd go out to bars or dance halls and in some of those there'd be the records, brought over from America by some enterprising US soldier.

Albert plays and Bucky listens. That feeling of familiarity lingers once more and by the end he realises that he's tapping his index finger along with the music against his thigh, still, he gains no images with it, he can't even recall what the song was called.

"I don't know if this is going to work." he can't help saying, looking at Albert. How patient could he be? How long until he'd had enough of trying to wake Bucky's memory?
tookthewheel: (It's combat paint stg)

[personal profile] tookthewheel 2014-11-19 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Bucky shakes his head and, and after a moment of that gentle playing, rests it in his hands. He needs to relax and stop trying to force it, he tells himself because that approach never works. It's like there's some barrier that his mind throws up against him whenever he thinks too hard.

A deep slow breath is taken, then another. He even closes his eyes, safe and secure that he is in a room with an ally and not an enemy and that his ears will pick up on any approaching danger before his eyes even count.

In and out.

The music changes.

He's on a roof. The heavy duty sniper rifle feels good and solid in his hands as he watches the apartment building the target has escaped to. Fury, Nicholas J. The target had escaped the initial attempt at assassination and led the Asset on a long chase across Washington to this very building.

There is music playing as he sets the gun to his shoulder, any familiarity it might have is brushed away in the focus of the moment as his finger closes on the trigger, sight focused on the targets approximate location through the wall.


His breathing changes, hitches. He knows this song. "I know this." he says, quiet at first, then lifting his head. "I know this one."
Edited 2014-11-19 17:43 (UTC)
aboveangrybees: <user name="citadel_icons" site="insanejournal.com"> (053)

[personal profile] aboveangrybees 2014-11-28 03:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Returning from another fake date with Stark, Steve's making his way through the lobby when the sound of music catches him, bringing him to a stop. The song on the air is one he recognizes quickly enough because it reminds him of Peggy, though the memory of Nick being shot springs to mind too. His gaze travels over to where the piano rests and the two at it.

He moves that way, unable to really distance himself where Bucky's concerned. Never has. Perhaps he should work on that - but not right now, maybe later. If he feels he's intruding, he can excuse himself and leave them to it.

The pit of his stomach aches at hearing Bucky recognizes it. It's a bit after their time, so it's a good chance he recognizes it for the same memory it brings Steve.

"It's one of my favorites," he says it softly, giving them both a nod in greeting.
Edited 2014-11-28 15:02 (UTC)
tookthewheel: TWS (To question)

[personal profile] tookthewheel 2014-11-28 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Bucky's head shoots to the side, fixing his penetrating gaze on Steve as soon as he speaks. He had been too absorbed to pick up on the sound of approaching footsteps, something he should have been able to do even underneath the music. It was sloppy.

"You were there." he says, the fingers of his left hand twitching in memory. "I remember -- target down... return to extraction point... then you were there."

Why didn't he remember this before? Why didn't he remember encountering Steve before the fight on the helicarriers? They must have wiped him in between. "When did that happen?"
aboveangrybees: by <user name="famira"> (106)

[personal profile] aboveangrybees 2014-11-30 12:04 am (UTC)(link)
Even if his attention is never fully removed from Bucky, he still turns and greets Albert with a small (if a little strained) smile and a nod.

"It's a good idea, seems to be working," his voice does is pleasant, but neutral. He's honestly glad for Albert helping Bucky like this, but the memory isn't really a wonderful one to uncover - not that he blames Albert for that in the slightest. Yet, there are plenty of those that will be unearthed in time.

He looks at Bucky again, remembering himself how that night went down. "I was there," he confirms as he watches Bucky carefully. He wants to affirm that Nick is alive, but he isn't sure Bucky hearing he failed his mission is the best right now. "Couple days before the helicarriers."
Edited 2014-11-30 02:22 (UTC)
tookthewheel: (Rebellious)

[personal profile] tookthewheel 2014-12-01 08:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"They wiped me then."

He says it without much visible reaction, though the knowledge cuts, only curling his fingers into fists. It's not surprising but it still makes him angry inside, another add-on to the list of sins HYDRA committed against him.

"Did I ever hear it before?" his eyes flick to Albert, not a dismissal, just a reminder to himself the man was there. "In the war?"
aboveangrybees: By <user name="zodiacrockstar"> (aka Me) (096)

[personal profile] aboveangrybees 2014-12-02 08:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Steve can't deny the conclusion Bucky comes to. Honestly, he hadn't been sure if Bucky had been wiped between or not, suspected it to a degree, but this at least confirms it for him.

"No, it's a bit after our time, we-" Steve pauses, seeming to struggle for a word, "-went down earlier that year. Songs from '44 or earlier would be more familiar."

He looks at Albert now, giving the man a nod. It's ultimately up to Bucky if either of them leave, but he wants to show his friend he doesn't at least mind his presence.
tookthewheel: (Gloom and doom)

[personal profile] tookthewheel 2014-12-06 02:40 pm (UTC)(link)
They went down earlier that year. Steve means they fell -- he fell, Steve crashed. Bucky was being shaped into a killer in the hands of HYDRA while his friend slept under the arctic ice, that's what he means.

It's a cold thought after the memory of killing the target in Steve's apartment and the knowledge that he had seen him, known him before that fight on the helicarrier. That he had seen Steve and they had probably wiped him because of that.

"I don't know." he replies to the question, head lowering, staring now at the floor between his feet. "I don't know."

There's no indication he's about to flip out or withdraw into himself in the wake of this discovery. Bucky only looks and feels lost, confronted again with the reality of his existence.

Something happier would be welcome right about now.
aboveangrybees: By <user name="zodiacrockstar"> (aka Me) (125)

[personal profile] aboveangrybees 2015-01-24 06:29 am (UTC)(link)
Steve feels his heart wrench for his best friend, ache for the man's hardships. How much would he be willing to give to make it all easier on him. But he knows these are struggles that Bucky will never really overcome with any real ease, that they are just the dark spots he has to feel his way through. Steve just hopes he can make them easier to navigate from time to time.

Shifting his gaze to Albert again, Steve gives the man a grateful look. "Yeah, I think that'd be good," he a nod to let him know it's okay. "Anything with some cheer." Something to take some weight off Bucky's mind.

He looks at his friend and puts his hand on Bucky's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You got a lot of good and bad memories locked up there, you just have to take them as they come."
tookthewheel: (Baby blues)

[personal profile] tookthewheel 2015-01-30 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
It feels easy for someone else to say that when they don't have a great gaping hole in their memory where their life should be. Bucky clenches his jaw, starts to shake his head but stills at Steve's hand on his shoulder.

He doesn't rightly understand how a simple gesture can do so much to steady him, though after the events of the last arena maybe he shouldn't be surprised. The part of him that held onto his bond with Steve Rogers through everything that was done to him is stronger than anything else. The tightness in his chest eases and he can think a little clearer, just in time to hear the notes of the new melody that Albert is playing on the piano.

This one too is half-familiar and the gentle uplifting pace of the music helps, "What's this?" he asks to the room in general, whichever of them would choose to answer. "I've heard it."