James "dumpster fire gijinka" Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
frostythehitman) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
recolle2018-07-11 10:38 pm
frostythehitman) wrote in recolle2018-07-11 10:38 pm
Entry tags:
i was a high school atom bomb
WHO: James and YOU!
WHERE: all over town, and also ~in his dreams~
WHEN: all throughout July!
WHAT: James doesn't remember a damn thing and is trying his best to navigate Recolle without letting on that something is off with him. Also, dreams.
WARNINGS: probably some violence in the dream prompts
1. time to finally fill his nighttime skulking quota
[ Okay, so it's a lie that he doesn't remember anything. He does remember a few things--and they mostly involve sneaking around to kill someone or training others to do the same.
He doesn't have any reason to do any of that now, nor anyone to do it to, but running around like this at least is refreshing--it's familiar. And he doesn't have to pretend to be James Barnes, whoever the hell that kid was. He can just be confused and empty, and try to connect with the few bits of himself he does know.
All of which is just how I'm justifying the fact that James is running around parkouring throughout the city in the dead of night, clad all in black. Even his hair is tied up and hidden under a dark baseball cap. (His arm, of course, is still completely exposed--he has yet to find a single piece of clothing that can cover it except for some neon monstrosity.)
He's just out here to get some fresh air and feel a rush, but to anyone else, it might look rather suspicious to see a mysterious figure skulking around and jumping from building to building. ]
2. he didn't choose the accordion boy band life, the accordion boy band life chose him
[ His father and sister gave him odd looks when he pulled out an accordion from his closet and he didn't want to raise any more suspicion, so...instead he's sitting in the park with it. Sure, he's still an odd sight, but at least here he's just some anonymous person with an accordion, instead of a person who apparently shouldn't be playing one.
He wonders why. Did James Barnes only play accordion in secret? Was he that bad that he was banned from playing it?
He tries playing a few notes. They come out warbled and discordant as his fingers clumsily mash multiple keys simultaneously. It wheezes like a fireplace bellows. Maybe he really was that bad. (Or maybe he was good once, and has just forgotten how to play the accordion along with everything else.)
Either way, it's kind of hard to ignore the sound of someone butchering Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. ]
3. DREAMS
3.a. a glorified hall monitor
[ James is here, but not the way you know him.
Most obviously, his arms have been switched--it's the left that's flesh now, and the right that's robotic. His hair is cut short. But other than that, his clothes and the eyeliner smeared across his eyes like a domino mask look pretty par for the course for James Barnes.
He (and you, now) stand in a long, possibly endless, high school hallway. There are endless rows of lockers and the walls are plastered in school spirit posters that look more like propaganda. James stands a good hundred feet away, posed in the center of the hallway with his arms crossed sternly. ]
Hey, you!
[ He approaches in (what he hopes is) a menacing stride. ]
Where's your hall pass?
3.b. i'd call this a teacher au except it's canon
[ In this one, James is much older--in his late 20s, perhaps. He stands at the head of a classroom of several large men who all look like they could easily be supersoldiers in their own right, if they weren't comically crammed into school desks. The writing on the chalkboard is in Russian, and everyone is speaking it too--but let's say for the sake of convenience that even a dream onlooker can understand it. A huge chunk of the classroom's wall appears to be a mirror, but upon closer inspection, the vague dark shape of a group of men behind it can just barely be made out.
James sharply taps a piece of chalk on the chalkboard and looks out sternly over his students. ]
Someone holds a door open for you as you enter a cafe. What do you do? You have five seconds to answer.
3.c. out of body experience
[ This time, there are two Jameses. One lays in a hospital bed, bandages on his hand and torso and cheek, with a tube snaking out from his chest to one of several machines at his bedside. There's no prosthetic in sight, so his left sleeve is completely empty. He's trying to read through a small pile of magazines sat in his lap, but doesn't appear to be focusing on the words. After a few moments, he grits his teeth as he tears several pages right out of the magazine in jerky motions, crumples up the pages, and chucks them at the wall as hard as he can.
The second James sits in a visitor's chair in the hospital room. He watches the first James in the hospital bed, impassive but curious, almost as if he's studying him. ]
WHERE: all over town, and also ~in his dreams~
WHEN: all throughout July!
WHAT: James doesn't remember a damn thing and is trying his best to navigate Recolle without letting on that something is off with him. Also, dreams.
WARNINGS: probably some violence in the dream prompts
1. time to finally fill his nighttime skulking quota
[ Okay, so it's a lie that he doesn't remember anything. He does remember a few things--and they mostly involve sneaking around to kill someone or training others to do the same.
He doesn't have any reason to do any of that now, nor anyone to do it to, but running around like this at least is refreshing--it's familiar. And he doesn't have to pretend to be James Barnes, whoever the hell that kid was. He can just be confused and empty, and try to connect with the few bits of himself he does know.
All of which is just how I'm justifying the fact that James is running around parkouring throughout the city in the dead of night, clad all in black. Even his hair is tied up and hidden under a dark baseball cap. (His arm, of course, is still completely exposed--he has yet to find a single piece of clothing that can cover it except for some neon monstrosity.)
He's just out here to get some fresh air and feel a rush, but to anyone else, it might look rather suspicious to see a mysterious figure skulking around and jumping from building to building. ]
2. he didn't choose the accordion boy band life, the accordion boy band life chose him
[ His father and sister gave him odd looks when he pulled out an accordion from his closet and he didn't want to raise any more suspicion, so...instead he's sitting in the park with it. Sure, he's still an odd sight, but at least here he's just some anonymous person with an accordion, instead of a person who apparently shouldn't be playing one.
He wonders why. Did James Barnes only play accordion in secret? Was he that bad that he was banned from playing it?
He tries playing a few notes. They come out warbled and discordant as his fingers clumsily mash multiple keys simultaneously. It wheezes like a fireplace bellows. Maybe he really was that bad. (Or maybe he was good once, and has just forgotten how to play the accordion along with everything else.)
Either way, it's kind of hard to ignore the sound of someone butchering Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. ]
3. DREAMS
3.a. a glorified hall monitor
[ James is here, but not the way you know him.
Most obviously, his arms have been switched--it's the left that's flesh now, and the right that's robotic. His hair is cut short. But other than that, his clothes and the eyeliner smeared across his eyes like a domino mask look pretty par for the course for James Barnes.
He (and you, now) stand in a long, possibly endless, high school hallway. There are endless rows of lockers and the walls are plastered in school spirit posters that look more like propaganda. James stands a good hundred feet away, posed in the center of the hallway with his arms crossed sternly. ]
Hey, you!
[ He approaches in (what he hopes is) a menacing stride. ]
Where's your hall pass?
3.b. i'd call this a teacher au except it's canon
[ In this one, James is much older--in his late 20s, perhaps. He stands at the head of a classroom of several large men who all look like they could easily be supersoldiers in their own right, if they weren't comically crammed into school desks. The writing on the chalkboard is in Russian, and everyone is speaking it too--but let's say for the sake of convenience that even a dream onlooker can understand it. A huge chunk of the classroom's wall appears to be a mirror, but upon closer inspection, the vague dark shape of a group of men behind it can just barely be made out.
James sharply taps a piece of chalk on the chalkboard and looks out sternly over his students. ]
Someone holds a door open for you as you enter a cafe. What do you do? You have five seconds to answer.
3.c. out of body experience
[ This time, there are two Jameses. One lays in a hospital bed, bandages on his hand and torso and cheek, with a tube snaking out from his chest to one of several machines at his bedside. There's no prosthetic in sight, so his left sleeve is completely empty. He's trying to read through a small pile of magazines sat in his lap, but doesn't appear to be focusing on the words. After a few moments, he grits his teeth as he tears several pages right out of the magazine in jerky motions, crumples up the pages, and chucks them at the wall as hard as he can.
The second James sits in a visitor's chair in the hospital room. He watches the first James in the hospital bed, impassive but curious, almost as if he's studying him. ]
no subject
I'm afraid that I'm not that easy to fool.
[ He may be a mere art teacher, but he's got certain skills. ]
I'm just surprised to see somebody else out at this hour.
no subject
Just wanted to get some fresh air.
[ which is absolutely why he's dressed like a mugger and kitted out with an arm that could punch straight through a brick wall. obviously. ]
no subject
[ He can agree with that but- ]
You're not worried you might get hit by cars if you wear clothes that dark?
no subject
no subject
no subject
Besides, I'm not even crossing the streets.
no subject
no subject
no subject
[ Not that there isn't plenty - too much - suffering in the world. But thanks to people actually caring even when they don't know a person, there is a little bit less of it, and some people find help. ]
no subject
no subject
no subject