alphalogs | Daycycle 7 [ Nov 26-30]

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Daycycle 7 [ Nov 26-30]

DAYCYCLE 7
[ NOV 26-30 ]

MORNING

The latest batch of soylent RED has been contaminated. Breakfast this morning is a bowl of hot fun. Enjoy!
Troubleshooter Team: Arty & Alec Hardison
Mission: Death Leopard is mobilizing for some sort of activity. They are identifying themselves to each other by wearing footwear of a lower clearance than their own. If you see any such citizens, capture them alive, without alerting others, and bring them here.
All other Troubleshooters: You are to report to your Service Firm positions for the day, until called on for Troubleshooter duty.
Intel: It’s been reported that an anti-Specials group is being formed. Specials are to operate with extreme caution as these hate groups have been known to single out individuals as targets.

AFTERNOON

At approximately 12:00 in the middle of the lunch rush the Commissary will mysteriously lock down. All citizens in the Commissary at this time will be trapped as a cloudy gas begins filling the space. The space will be completely filled with the inescapable gas within an hour. Citizens who inhale the gas will slowly lose consciousness and eventually die. No clearance level will open the doors.
This is a test being administered by Nameless for Matt Farrell and Dick Grayson. However, if your character is trapped within the commissary at this time and has an idea for escape that doesn’t involve the doors or windows, you are welcome to play it out. If you have any questions about the commissary layout, you are welcome to ask in the debriefing comment or @thealphacoplex on plurk.

EVENING

The Fighitng Bot Finals are this evening at 1900. This is a heavily attended event where the entire Complex gathers to watch bots battle it out to the death! You will probably hear people speak about it throughout the day. This only happens once every yearcycle. Sleep aid gas is expelled into the sleeping quarters at 2100.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You are welcome to play out missions from any point (beginning, middle, end) but are not required to. You will, however need to provide information on the debriefing post below once you've determined with the other players involved how the mission played out. You can indicate if the mission is complete (finished), pending investigation (still being discussed occly), or in progress (currently being threaded out.) You are encouraged to approach other characters for assistance with missions whenever possible, as almost every sector has a playable character. They may be able to provide you with valuable information from their roles within Alpha Complex or assistance in tracking down a traitor. You'll soon find out that the more avenues you have through the bureaucratic nightmare that Alpha Complex is, the better.

Reward and punishment will be determined by the outcome of your missions, though they may depend entirely on the current processing power of The Computer at the time and classified information not available to you. In other words, everything is never as it seems, so be prepared for anything.

Please debrief The Computer and your Briefing Officer on your mission using the form below.

Mission Status: Complete
Troubleshooters Alec Hardison & Arty
Mission outcome: Failed. Arty and Hardison failed to capture any of the Death Leopard members due to moral objections.
Alpha Complex Damage: None
Traitorous Casualties: None
Citizen Casualties: None
Intel gained: None

Edited 2015-12-06 20:07 (UTC)

Poisonous Gas

104 people

You will be held responsible for any and all deaths

The second he read the message he was ready to act, determined to save those people as quickly as possible, whatever it took. He wasn't just feeling that sense of urgency, he was feeling angry. How dare they threaten punishment, as if the deaths of all those people was not enough of a consequence. How dare they endanger these people in the first place. This was the kind of person he spent his life fighting against, and they were trying to test him as if he might want to join them after this?

Your hour begins now

One hour, one hour to play their little game. He took a moment to make a decision, did he do things their way or did he head to the commissary and try and fix this himself? Much as he hated it, he knew he would have to follow their instructions - this wasn't time to be rebellious, he had to do what he needed to do to save as many lives as possible. If he went to try and break in any other way, they'd likely be working against him, it would take him longer, he'd have to do things their way.

Pulling up the email, he leaned in, fingers descending on the keyboard and eyes narrowing. He may not have his mask or his team, but he was still a hero, and he was going to save those people.

He had been late again that morning and his superior officer hadn't been that amused. It almost would've reminded him of the chief at home, if not for the fact that this officer was a woman named Miller who loved to belittle him in front of the rest of the team.

She had asked him if his PDC timekeeping was off and he had apologized for being late. She had insisted that he fill out four copies of forms to request an hour of downtime so that he could to to Tech Services to get it looked at. Not willing to make things worse, Barry had reluctantly agreed and now he was being forced to look like an idiot in front of some poor Technical Services employee.

He was pointed towards a cubicle at the back, where a teenager was typing furiously on a keyboard. Anyone else might have remarked on his young appearance, but Barry had been on the receiving end of too many of those jokes to make them himself. Barry cleared his throat and hovered near the entrance.

"Hi. Sorry to bother you, but I'm supposed to get someone to sign off on my PDC being in working order?"

"Sure fine just put it there," Dick waved a vague hand at the desk next to him, not looking up from the screen. It had been harder than he anticipated and he was trying to both solve their little problem and weigh up how long to give it before he gave up and just went and saved the people his way, if he even could. He didn't have time to do anything else, this guy's PDC could wait. "I'm a little busy right now."

He realised as he said it that he probably looked like a typical lazy IT employee, and he didn't really know what it would look like to someone watching him, but he also didn't really care, stopping and explaining the situation would take up vital minutes that could be the difference between life and death.

Barry did as he was told, stepping forward and putting his PDC down on the desk beside the Technician. He glanced at his screen which was a wall of code. It looked like something Felicity and Cico did for fun. The sudden thought made him feel a pang of homesickness.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, it looks like it," he said earnestly. "And I don't want to interrupt you, but my supervisor only gave me thirty minutes to get this checked out." Not that he didn't already know it was fine. "I think it's fine now. Shouldn't take but a minute or two to sign off on."

"I'm a little busy right now," Dick repeated, some of his frustration leaking into his voice. He didn't want to take it out on this guy, it probably wasn't his fault - a quick sidelong glance revealed it was someone he recognised from their briefings, and he was pretty sure the guy was another special, so unless he worked incredibly fast it was unlikely that he'd had anything to do with Nameless - but that didn't mean he had time to play nice on something that didn't really matter, not when there were lives at stake.

"This is a bit more important than your PDC, your supervisor can wait."

"I'm sure it is," Barry said, trying to be diplomatic. After all, it looked like whatever the guy was working on he was definitely working intently on it. But he really, needed to get this signed and back before his supervisor decided there was some other humiliation she wanted to subject him to. "If you could just sign right there, that's all I..."

He trailed off as a blue print display popped up on the screen. He took a step forward and then another, looking over the Tech's shoulder. "Is that the Commissary?"

He'd heard the news of course. Of those trapped inside, suddenly he couldn't help but wonder if he was looking at the cause.

Dick was about ready to snap at the guy to give it a rest already when he came in close enough to actually see what was on his screen and realised what he was looking at, with a speed that would have impressed Dick if he hadn't been so on-edge.

"Ding ding, correct answer," he muttered, cope spilling from his fingers. He was pretty sure he'd figured out the source of the gas, he just needed to stop it - only it was coming from multiple valves, all of which seemed to require different coding to shut off from what he could tell, and he didn't have all that long left to do it.

Barry's hand went for his laser pistol, only to realize that it was worthless without the barrel. He was just about to ask the kid what he thought he was doing when he realized that he was shutting the gas valves off.

"You're shutting it down," he said, surprise wiping out his suspicion as he looked at the screen and the concentrated look on the stranger's face. For a moment he felt a very real pang that came from missing Cisco.

Realizing now why his badge would have to wait, Barry pulled up a chair. "Can I help?"

There was a split second pause where Dick glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow when he figured out that Dick was trying to stop what was happening rather than being the cause of it, but then he supposed that there were a lot of people here with a lot of different attitudes, he wouldn't have any way of knowing, really knowing, who he could trust, why should it be any different for this guy? It wasn't like he was Wally or someone else on the team who knew Robin. Wally. He couldn't help a flash - ha - of homesickness. The team would have been able to get this sorted, instead of just having to rely on his own skills.

"I'm not sure," Dick answered, grateful for the offer despite it making the homesickness worse. "I think it might just have to be me... Unless you can think of a way to get the doors open while I'm trying to shut the valves off?"

"Are they controlled electronically?" Barry asked, trying to take in as much of the screen as he could as Dick's fingers flew over the keyboard. He had a feeling that he was being more of a distraction than a help at the moment, but now that he knew what was going on he found it impossible to walk away.

"I can try shorting them out or expanding the metal at the hinges. Depending on how thick they are we could probably blow them off if we had to, but is the gas flammable?"

There were a lot of different options, if they knew all the variables.

"I presume they are, almost everything in this place seems to be. Also, if they were manual locks they would be too easy to pick, the people who have done this wouldn't leave themselves open like that. ...explosions should probably be our last resort. I love a good explosion as much as the next guy but I don't know enough about this gas. Shorting out or trying to override the lock is probably the best idea... how good are you at computers?"

If Barry could access the locks from here he might be able to get the doors open without attracting too much attention... although judging by the people who had set this little task, it was still entirely possible they were keeping an eye on both the doors themselves and the programming, he wasn't sure which would be more dangerous to attempt.

"I'm decent, but when it comes to coding I'm not much help. I'm more of the run in and do things, type." Or used to be.

"What about the electrical grid. Is there a way to subroute the power to that one lock and overload it?"

"I can be a bit like that myself," Dick admitted. He'd definitely been like that back in the early days with the team, expecting them to follow his lead. Even these days he preferred action, this static typing was driving him crazy. It was good to have Barry here, for some reason talking felt like he was actually doing something.

"You should be able to do that remotely, good plan," he nodded "Do you think you can get access or do you want me to try and give you the permissions?" he had a certain amount of admin rights on the system, he might be able to make it a little easier for Barry.

"It probably wouldn't hurt if you gave me the permissions," Barry admitted, getting to his feet. "I have basic permissions, but nothing at that level."

The truth was he was pretty impressed this kid did. Though he probably wasn't in Tech Support without merit. "Do you mind if I borrow one of these terminals? It's probably the fastest way for me to log in."

"I'll give you all the permissions I can," Dick said, quickly searching for Barry and throwing a handful of admin rights his way, anything he had the power to give, before returning to his main focus.

"Knock yourself out," he nodded towards the nearest terminal "...thanks." he added, whether Barry actually managed to do anything or not, he was glad of the support.

"I should probably be thanking you," Barry said, sitting down at the terminal next to Dick and pushing up his sleeves. He wasn't exactly Felicity or Cisco, but he thought he knew enough to be of some help. All he had to do was find a way to reroute the power grid, right?

He knew now probably wasn't a good time to keep talking, but he couldn't help but have one more question. "Do you know why whoever is doing this is doing it?"

"Thanking me for what?" He asked absently, confused but too caught up in his work again to analyse it too much, he was almost there, he was sure of it.

"...I know why. I don't know why they're doing this but I know why they're doing something, if that makes sense?" he said, tone a little clipped in his irritation.

"For trying to stop it," Barry said, glancing up from his terminal. "And for letting me try to help," he added a second later. Even though he would never intentionally want anyone to be in danger, this was the first time since he'd gotten there that he'd actually felt like he was doing something that mattered.

It didn't make much sense, but Barry figured Dick was busy enough as it was to bother him again. He worked in silence for a few minutes more before he spoke up. "I think I'm in the system that controls the grid." He leaned forward, intent on his work. A few more keystrokes and... The lights flickered briefly. Barry pulled up the surveillance cam in the cafeteria. The doors hadn't opened.

"It didn't work," he said, disappointment heavy in his voice. Hopefully Dick would have more luck in his plan.

"...thank you for wanting to help." Dick replied, glancing up from his screen to give him a slight nod before going straight back to it. He made a vague noise of acknowledgement when Barry spoke again, barely hearing the disappointed statement that followed; he was on a roll now, he'd set his plan in motion and he was fairly certain he'd cracked it with time to spare, he was just a few keystrokes from finishing it and everything would be okay...he hoped.

Finishing up with a little flourish, he pushed himself back from the desk.

"That should be it, the gas should be stopped, does it look like it's stopped?" he leaned over quickly to look at the surveillance footage Barry already had up, desperately searching for a sign he had been successful.

Barry scanned the cameras, watching the scared faces of the citizens in the cafeteria slowly shift into those of relief. The gas that seemed to be moving through the vents thinned and they uncovered their mouths and began to cheer.

"It stopped," Barry said, his own voice heavy with relief as he grinned over at Dick. "You did it!"

Moments later the doors opened on their own accord and the citizens escaped from the cafeteria.

Dick slumped back in his seat, feeling all the tension leave him in a rush. Once he'd taken a few minutes to just enjoy the relief, he sat up properly again and grabbed Barry's PDC.

"Thanks for your help. I'll report that this was broken or something and had to be fixed, so your supervisor doesn't throw a fit for you being away so long." he offered. Now that he wasn't in the middle of a crisis, he actually took in the name that was in front of him and couldn't help but laugh.

"First Ray Palmer, now Barry Allen, I can't wait to tell Wally about this." he chuckled, mostly to himself. At this rate he'd meet namesakes for the entire Justice League.

Bucky had not even realised the problem he had developed until he had used all his doses for the day before lunch even hit. He had taken two when he woke up in a cold sweat from another nightmare courtesy of HYDRA's experiments and the battlefield. It had taken the rest of the hour following for the drugs to slow his racing mind and heart down and by then it was too late to bother trying to sleep again. It had left him warm and content once they fully began to work, and the waking flashes of panic had left him in favour of a relaxed apathy with touches of easy amusement over pointless things. Like the sounds his PDC made when he messed with the settings.

Unfortunately, in addition to needing more of the doses, he needed them more frequently, and with the day not even half over he was beginning to realise that relying on his own doses wasn't going to cut it any more.

Maecenas wasn't an intentional choice, but the man was someone Bucky recognised as being another of those labelled 'special' by the other REDs. That fact alone made him a target over the REDs who made clear their distaste for him. Especially given the rise in their aggression toward him since both the races and the whispered news that he had already handed over three traitors in his time in the complex.

He stopped the other man with his metal hand on Maecenas' arm just briefly enough to halt his movement toward the commissary. His regular hand had a slight shake to it that he didn't want to make overly obvious, and he kept tht hand shoved in his pocket.

"Do you have a moment? I could use your help. I'll pay you for it." He had considered trying this two days prior with anyone he could find, but he had to be careful. Parker already felt negatively toward him, Steve would disapprove and he doubted his room mate and new ally would be fond of his usage of the information Dick had given him being put toward shady dealings.

He'd had a productive morning avoiding work and was just on his way to avoid some more work in the commissary when he was halted with a hand on his arm, when he glanced down he was surprised to see the arm did not appear to be made of flesh, which significantly narrowed the number of people it could possibly be.

He looked over at the man who had stopped him and raised a confused eyebrow, he recognised him from briefings and the like of course, and he was fairly certain the man was another special, but they'd never actually had any interaction before.

He was about to shrug off the hand and go on his way when Bucky said the magic word. Pay. He turned around more fully and nodded his head once.

"I'm listening."

Bucky was slightly jittery from withdrawal. He was paranoid, twitchy and unsettled standing out in the open, and it was a little too evident in the way he kept looking at people moving past them into the commissary, or getting distracted from his own thoughts and needs by every movement. There was a shake to his hand and his eyes were blood shot. Over all he wasn't looking good but he did what he could to keep his head on straight.

"There's a medication they provide us. Rationed out. The doses they give aren't cutting it for pain relief and I can't get hold of extra, but I know most of our floor tosses theirs out." He apparently wasn't above using his injuries to his advantage. "If you aren't using yours, I'd be willing to pay you for it in credits." And as further proof of how inept Bucky was at bartering, or how desperate he was, he added an extra incentive. "Just name your price."

As it happened, Maecenas had most of his left - he'd tried it the first couple of days he was here, and admittedly he'd rather enjoyed the buzz it gave him, but the enjoyment had worn off with how sanitised and unpleasurable the whole thing had been, there was no ceremony to it, no luxury, just pop a little pill and you felt happy, and that was no fun at all. Maecenas was a hedonist, and he liked to feel good, but he preferred that feeling to come in the right setting.

Besides, Bucky obviously needed it more than him, and what kind of a good, kind citizen would he be if he kept it all to himself?

"I can get you some more," he smiled magnanimously "I have a few days' worth of allowance left, and if I run out I'm sure I can... locate some more for you. Shall we say 100cr per full day's dose that comes from me. 200cr if I have to acquire it elsewhere?"

This was all around a terrible idea. Bucky recognized it as that before he had even pulled the other man aside. But the twitch in his hand and the nagging sense of discomfort and discontent building up in the back of his mind demanded a solution. He couldn't function properly if he didn't have the medication. Which was largely due to the medication itself, but anyone trying to reason that with the soldier would hit a wall.

He should have bartered the price down, but the credits were replaceable. He could earn more. He would earn more. He offered Maecenas his metal hand for a handshake, not thinking of any potential differences in customs, and slipped his PDC from his pocket with his shakier human hand. It was easier to use the device with that hand. The metal one had a bad effect on the screen.

"Do you have a PDC? I can transfer the funds to you. Two days, two hundred credits. What do you say? We can talk further payments in the future." It would be good to have at least one 'reliable' source. There was no telling how some might react, and he couldn't be sure everyone would respond in a neutral or helpful manner to his request.

Maecenas reached forward and grasped the other man's wrist without even really thinking about it, the last time he'd shook hands with somebody it was Lydia and she hadn't seem particularly startled by the gesture, so he'd yet to consider that anybody might be used to anything different. The feel the metal was a little strange, but it helped to think of it like Bucky was simply wearing vambraces or similar.

"I do," he used his other hand to wave his own PDC "Transfer the funds over and I'll bring you the goods this afternoon, unless you'd prefer to pay on delivery?" he wouldn't blame Bucky for not trusting him, but he also knew he wasn't going to cheat him, not when delivering as promised now would only make him more money in the future.

The week had been a long one for Bucky. Allies were hard to come by and at least one of those that he had made had vanished not long after he had spoken to her. It seemed his new C.O.s were pleased with his work so far, but other than making him more suspicious of the workings of the society around him, it did little to provide new information about who was really pulling the strings. It was hard for him to reconcile when they claimed a computer was running the show.

He had found a group of soldiers that were potentially allies. They at least made more sense in his mind than the officers giving him missions and orders. And they had provided him with a functional new arm. The metal arm was almost as functional as his old one, with the added benefits of being stronger, sturdier and a lot less prone to making him bleed when he got shot in it. He had not been as lucky with the shot to his other shoulder but it had at least been nothing more than a painful hole that needed bandages to cover. The shot had gone clean through.

The arm had a logo for Corpore Metal near the shoulder that he kept hidden under his jumpsuit, but he was far less intent on hiding his disability now that he could actually use his other arm.

Aside from the arm, his week had been spent a little less eventfully than it should have been. He had listened, looked around and worked on getting on the good side of the officers above him by playing by their rules and he had begun developing a code to keep contact with his room mate more discreet when they needed to discuss things in secret. But his growing addiction to the complex provided drugs was becoming a problem. Just before the chaos of lunch he had spent another chunk of his credits on extra doses, and he had broken three a day, already at 4 before his nightly dose in a never ending search to stop falling back into the past any time a sound, a word or even a voice sent him there.

His eyes were dark and sunken from a lack of decent sleep and there was a slight twitch to the fingers of his good arm the past few days that grew progressively worse the longer he went without a dose of HappiTime. He assumed their meeting would have to take place around the same time, and he shook off the nightly sleep drug with some effort to make his way back out to the hall. Hopefully Steve had better intel than he had, because Bucky's focus had been on the people around them more than the workings of the commands issued to him.

It was a good thing that Bucky kept the Corpore Metal logo hidden under his jumpsuit. Otherwise, Steve might not have been able to tell Bucky what he found out during this first week.

Roughly 30 minutes before their meeting time, Steve dunked his face into a sink full of cold water. The icy cold pierced his skin as oxygen bubbles escaped his lips. When he lifts his head again, he gasps for air. The sound, usually so quiet and unnoticeable, felt to Steve like it could be heard for miles. Anyone still up at this hour must also feel in their gut that the Wagon Wheel was eerily silent at night.

By the time he was back in his room, door propped open this time, his mind was clear again. Steve needed it to be.

When Bucky arrived, they resumed their previous routine quite naturally. Door locked and backs against the furthest bunk from the camera, the two of them spoke in a low whisper. But the first thing Steve noticed was how sleep-deprived Bucky looked — and was that a twitch in his arm?

"Are you all right?" He'd spent the first week paying so much attention to everything except for Bucky, and now, seeing his friend like this, the Captain was starting to question whether or not he'd made the right call.

Unfortunately for Bucky, the only person who had actually noticed his growing drug problem had been Parker. And while they had exchanged confusing and emotional words over it, the interaction had done nothing to stop him from using them. Despite the increasing prevalence of withdrawal systems earlier and earlier between pills, it was hard for Bucky to see the medicine as a bad thing. It helped to calm his nerves and quiet the war, and while it fucked with his focus, he was still functional. He just had started needing to shell out extra credits to convince people to give him their own doses now.

"I'm good." It wasn't often Bucky lied to Steve, but at times he glossed over things to spare a lecture or the concerned look in Steve's eyes. He had never spoken about his concerns for both of them before he was shipped off to war because it would not have changed anything for the better. This seemed a similar situation. He was plagued with nightmares, phantom pains in the arm that wasn't even really his and moral fatigue over constantly weighing the options between killing or sending off to punishment 'traitors' whose crimes he barely understood or accepted.

"It's just been a long week." He leaned into the bunk and stared at the wall across from them, only glancing briefly over to Steve. They knew each other too well for him to lie to Steve's face right now, and his second statement had at least been true.

"I'm no closer to understanding who we're fighting for but the longer we're stuck here the less certain I am we're still the good guys."

Bucky can count on Steve monitoring him more closely, even during the course of this conversation, but for now the Captain acquiesces. He can tell when his friend doesn't want to talk about something, and giving Bucky a physical exam wasn't going to be the purpose of this meeting.

"Earlier this week, for a single day, I was somehow given another person's memories. They felt ... as if they were my own, even if they didn't fit into my life."

He'll go into which of Dick Grayson's memories he saw only briefly. The main point was, "It seems that memories here are transferrable. I don't know how they do it, but it's happened." Which logically means that there may be some truth to their memories being 'created.' But Steve isn't ready to make the entire jump. There's not enough evidence.

Unexpectedly, Steve let out a chuckle. "God," his eyes glanced away from Bucky for a moment, and then returned. He was smiling in disbelief. "I never thought there'd be a day in which I wished Stark was here."

But the memory swaps weren't the only thing he had to report.

"Bucky, you said earlier that you were less certain we're still the good guys. I thought perhaps the underground societies might be the answer. But that might not be the case either. Two days ago, I heard an explosion — small scale, like the sound of an amplified gunshot — so I ran towards it. In a side room, I found Arthur Ingridson, another soldier from the Very Special Forces, bleeding on the ground, clutching his legs. I dialed for emergency medical services and immediately went to inspect his wounds."

Steve leaned in closer to Bucky.

"But before I had the chance to inspect him, he grabbed ahold of my uniform. He told me he was part of a secret society named Corpore Metal." By the way Steve said the name, he'd obviously never heard of it before. "He said that Internal Security found out, and that they offered to let him live if he spied on Corpore Metal for the Computer, as a double agent, so he agreed."

Steve shook his head. Here's where it got complicated.

"His leg. The one I thought was wounded and bleeding, was a prosthetic. He told me that Corpore Metal had provided it to him, and that they'd just discovered that he was spying on them for IntSec. He said-" There's a two second pause before Steve continues, like he still isn't sure what to believe. "-He said that when they found out, Corpore Metal detonated his leg. There had been an explosive inside, from the moment they gave it to him. The shards from the explosion tore through the other parts of his body. When the paramedics arrived, he'd already stopped breathing."

Bucky let's Steve do the talking for a while. He had had his own encounter with the memory transitions. The woman he had met on his second day, Natasha, he had been in her head and watched as someone her memories recognized as him came after her with a metal arm and an assortment of weapons to rival a Hydra base.

Before realizing it was her memories he had half thought the drugs had caused him to hallucinate an alternate personality to go along with his recent actions and his new arm. But that had been cleared up to fill him in with tiny slivers of information about the weapon he would become some day.

Another reason he had upped the dosage of the pills.

He listened to Steve's story, holding his own comments and watching his friend recount the tale with a steadily more furrowed brow. Corpore Metal. The soldiers who had welcomed him into their fold. The man who had given him a new arm and a new lease on his functional life. It must have been a mistake or a miscommunication, what Ingridson had said. Things were not always what they seemed to be on the surface in the complex.

He cleared his throat when Steve finished and tried to start at the beginning.

"Somehow I don't think Stark would be any more understanding of what is happening here than either of us. The man is a genius, but the technology here is beyond even his mechanical magic. And since when do you have anything against him?"

Stark had seemed like a good guy to Bucky, and he had provided them with better weapons and tools to fight Hydra. He never noticed any animosity between the genius and the soldier, but maybe he had missed something.

"Are you sure this Ingridson wasn't just a decoy. It could be someone in the Complex decided to take him out when they found out he was a member. It doesn't make sense they would give him a rigged prosthetic before he turned coat on them."

It took Steve a moment to understand Bucky's comments about Stark. At first, he thought that it may just be that he's never met Tony in-person. After all, it's not as if he and the Winter Soldier had Friday afternoon tea. But the comment about mechanical magic was what made it all click.

Bucky thought he was talking about Howard. Which meant. Well it could mean many, many things. That Bucky doesn't remember what happened after the fall. Or just that they were getting their Starks mixed up.

"No no. I have nothing against Howard Stark. It's his son Tony that I'm talking about." He'll wait to hear what Bucky has to say about that before diving into a potentially 75-year history lesson.

"And no, I'm not sure. He could have been a decoy. He could have been lying." A beat. "He also could have been telling the truth. Rigging a prosthetic like that — it sounds like one man making sure he has leverage over another."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daycycle 7 [ Nov 26-30]

DAYCYCLE 7

[ NOV 26-30 ]

Daycycle 7: Debriefing

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Afternoon | Open

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Will we maybe just wrap this up within a coupla posts?

Sounds good!

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Just before lunch, For Maecenas

Re: Just before lunch, For Maecenas

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After Evening; For Steve

IT'S TIME FOR SOME DRAMA

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