Dodging falling explosives was not on Bucky's to do list for the day, so when one it the ground several feet behind him, the sound set off all the wrong memories and reactions. He threw himself to the ground as far forward as he could get and then looked for something to roll under, ssuming a grenade had gone off.
The liquid could have easily been blood and mud as it was Bouncy Beverage, and the ringing in his ear was all too familiar. It took a moment for him to remember his pistol was useless, as they had never given him the rest of it to make it work. And when that was out of the question he decided on pinpointing the direction the attacker was throwing from. Risking shrapnel for a quick look.
But there was not a grenade-style ditch of destruction at his back. Just an impact cracked and shattered walkway covered in beverage and pieces of plastic that had been turned into projectile weapons for some of the more unfortunate nearby walls.
The observation did nothing to still the shake in his limbs or the racing beat of his heart, but it did paint a picture of a very specific and repetitively hit area.
The next bottle slams and explodes, and the velocity of it is far too quick to be scene before the sounds and explosion, and this one leaves a piece of plastic embedded in his jumpsuit leg and his suit drenched in sticky liquid. He looks up and down the street before looking up, and then he gives the target zone a wide berth, circling around it before going into the closest building. Higher ground offers better vantages for finding out what the hell is going on.
When he gets to the top, he tries to take a quieter approach, easing the door shut behind himself and taking careful steps and slow looks around corners to try and check the area. The bottles had to be coming from somewhere, and Bucky's intent is to find the where before even trying to further assess the situation at hand. It's just a matter of who notices who first.
no subject
The liquid could have easily been blood and mud as it was Bouncy Beverage, and the ringing in his ear was all too familiar. It took a moment for him to remember his pistol was useless, as they had never given him the rest of it to make it work. And when that was out of the question he decided on pinpointing the direction the attacker was throwing from. Risking shrapnel for a quick look.
But there was not a grenade-style ditch of destruction at his back. Just an impact cracked and shattered walkway covered in beverage and pieces of plastic that had been turned into projectile weapons for some of the more unfortunate nearby walls.
The observation did nothing to still the shake in his limbs or the racing beat of his heart, but it did paint a picture of a very specific and repetitively hit area.
The next bottle slams and explodes, and the velocity of it is far too quick to be scene before the sounds and explosion, and this one leaves a piece of plastic embedded in his jumpsuit leg and his suit drenched in sticky liquid. He looks up and down the street before looking up, and then he gives the target zone a wide berth, circling around it before going into the closest building. Higher ground offers better vantages for finding out what the hell is going on.
When he gets to the top, he tries to take a quieter approach, easing the door shut behind himself and taking careful steps and slow looks around corners to try and check the area. The bottles had to be coming from somewhere, and Bucky's intent is to find the where before even trying to further assess the situation at hand. It's just a matter of who notices who first.