Bucky Barnes (au) / Captain America / Prostituteiced_soldierMay 30 2012, 03:54:57 UTC
[ooc: Anyone feel like rescuing a prostitute with a heart of gold who's being forced to dress in drag and sell his body? Or just sleeping with him? Yeah, the muse hates me so much right now. LOL
I'm more interested in doing a weird western type of scenario, but will do straight western if you'd prefer.]
You're so bad. And I might be trying to figure out how to steampunk Cap's shield. >.>carriesashieldMay 30 2012, 19:47:22 UTC
The new sheriff in town had already garnered a bit of a reputation for being a no-nonsense sort of man who had little patience for drunks, men who hit their women or their children and who didn't put up with any sort of shenanigans in his jurisdiction. So when he was called out to investigate a death at the local cat house at nearly two in the morning, he was in a less than fine sort of temper
( ... )
I'M NOT SORRY.iced_soldierMay 30 2012, 20:23:09 UTC
“You found ‘im,” James “Jamia” Barnes called through the door gruffly. He was used to people calling him “Miss,” as the only male worker in the place. It certainly didn’t help that his specialty was feminization, and he was forced to wear wigs and dresses often more ridiculous than what the actual girls wore. “Come on in
( ... )
LIES. YOU LIVE TO MORTIFY MY CHARACTERcarriesashieldMay 30 2012, 20:34:56 UTC
The blond man opened up the door but was utterly unprepared for the half-naked sight of the cross-dressing man laying propped up on the bed smoking. To his credit, he'd taken one look at the half undone dress and immediately turned his head.
"Pardon me, I thought you were dressed for company." Steve's gaze landed on the wig but didn't put two and two together just yet as he turned his back to the woman. "I need to ask you a few questions about what happened to night, I'll give you a few minutes to get dressed." From behind, the flush of embarrassment crawled down Steve's neck as well. He sounded ever bit the stiff Yankee New Yorker in that moment too as he moved to the door.
I live to mortify my own character, sweetness. Mortifying yours is just a bonus. :Piced_soldierMay 30 2012, 20:50:54 UTC
Bucky shrugged, finishing off his whiskey before putting out his cigarette in the glass. “I take it you’re here about Kat.” He kicked off his boots before standing, letting his dress fall to the floor as he rolled down his stockings. “She’s a nice gal. Didn’t deserve what happened.”
As the only man, and a man with a built-in weapon, he had appointed himself the girls’ protector-despite the fact that most of them could get along well enough without him. A girl had to be tough to make it in this line of work, and they could take care of themselves. He only regretted that one of the few times a girl had needed his help, he hadn’t gotten there till she was half beaten to death.
Contrary to what his former squad had believed, Steve was in fact not a completely oblivious innocent. The moment the Miss. Barnes started to speak, the tall man realized he wasn't in fact a woman. Steve hadn't gotten a very good look at him before he'd turned away but he'd just assumed the 'lady' hadn't been particularly blessed in the breast department was all. Now why a man was dressed up in...well a dress....Steve didn't particularly want to know. Not in this kind of den of iniquity
( ... )
Once he was stripped of his female garments, he clad himself in some pants and a shirt. “Guy came in, it was clear he’d already had some to drink.” He crossed to the small mirror that hung on his wall above the bureau by the door and poured water from the pitcher onto a clean handkerchief. “Had a couple more drinks after that.” He turned to look at the man as if giving him permission to look again. The prude.
With the careful precision of someone who had done it many times, Bucky dabbed off the lipstick, turned to a different corner of the handkerchief, removed the black from his eyes. “Took Kat upstairs and that was the last I saw of ‘em till I started hearing the screaming.”
Setting the handkerchief down on the bureau, he examined his face, rubbing his cheeks with his hands. Despite having no visible scruff, he wet the shaving brush and soap and began to lather up. It didn’t matter if the stubble was visible; if it could be felt, it was time to shave.
Steve could hear him strip out of the dress as the taffeta and silk rustled and whispered together until they were replaced with what sounded like much more familiar clothing being drawn on. Pants, suspenders and the like so Steve ventured another glance once he heard water being poured into the toilette near to him.
Both repelled and fascinated by the industrious way the (well...what was he? A sodomite?) was wiping away first the lipstick and then the kohl lining his eyes, the blond sheriff finally tore his gaze away from the unsettling sight. He'd seen a lot in his days including a couple of sodomites in the army but this was definitely a first for him. But he had to remind himself that his business here wasn't to ask this obviously mixed up man why he was parading around in women's clothing, it was about the young Kat who was even now battling for her life
( ... )
In Bucky’s line of work, people watching him meant only one thing. That they wanted him. So, when he caught the other man looking at him-especially the way he fixated on his lips as he wiped away his lipstick-Bucky felt a smugness creep onto his face. When he felt the man’s eyes on him again as he got ready to shave, he turned toward the man with a smirk that said I know you’re watching me. His actions were a little more careful, more staged after that.
“Yessir, and it wasn’t a pretty sight, neither.” His tongue slid across his lower lip as he loaded his brush with soap. Was it a subconscious act of concentration or deliberate? Who besides Bucky could tell?
“You have to understand, sir, I made a pledge a while back to look after my own. So when I saw him beatin’ poor Kat to death, I had to intervene.” He plucked a hair from the wig and opened his straight razor, cutting the hair to test its sharpness. He then wet his face before brushing the soap onto one side of his face.
At first, he was uncertain what to make of the smugness that stole over the man's face. Surely he was not relishing talking about how his fellow prostitute had gotten hurt so grievously? It was enough to have a frown tug at the blond's brow
( ... )
“What kind of a man do you think I am, that I would shoot a man in his back?” He intended to answer as little as possible about the gun he used, the shots he fired. To do so would risk revealing his greatest weapon.
He began to slowly, ever so carefully shave the portion of his face that was covered with soap. One stroke, two. He wiped the blade off on the handkerchief, remaining silent as he worked.
"It wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened, Mr. Barnes." Steve pointed out evenly, and glanced up from his notepad to look at his only conscious witness to the whole affair. "So you are admitting you shot, Mr. Keaton then? And that Miss. O'Day had nothing to do with his death?"
The blond man's eyes were dispassionate as he moved to pick up the dress Bucky had left discarded on the floor. He moved as though to lay it out on the bed so it wouldn't get wrinkled but what Steve was really looking for was blood splatter across the front of the dress, thus indicating the sodomite's distance between Keaton when the shot had been fired. Steve in fact had already noted the large exit wounds on Keaton's body indicating he'd been shot from the front. There had been a six shooter close to the body that had been engraved along the stock of the barrel M.K. so it was a fair assumption that it was the late Keaton's piece.
"So what happened? You came in and he drew on you so you dropped him, is that it?"
“Well, I’ve never done nothin’ like that. ‘ve got integrity.” Said the man who cross-dressed and sold his body for a living. But he had standards, dammit, and shooting a man in the back was too low even for him. Even if the man was attacking a friend.
He gave the other man a droll look as he gathered more soap on his brush. “No. Kat had nothing to do with his death.”
And he wasn’t telling Steve anything else. Not if he could help it. Brushing soap onto the other side of his face, he looked at the blonde out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t too bad looking, really. Better than a lot of the guys who came here. But that wasn’t why he was here. Bucky had to remember that. He was being questioned for murder, not trying to bring in a customer. Thus began the stroke of his razor. One...two…
To his credit, he didn't scoff at that ridiculous statement or the cold hard fact that Bucky was a sodomite who dressed up in women's clothing and was, in fact, a whore. Steve's mama had raised him with the mantra of 'If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all'
The sheriff definitely wasn't hard on the eyes in the least, not with his tall build and obvious muscles. When combined with his good looks, bright blond hair and blue eyes, he'd certainly caused his fair share of second looks and sighs from the female population in the city. Unlike Bucky though, he was unshaven thanks to having been dragged out of his bed at the local boarding house in the middle of the night. And wearing a faded blue shirt, dark pants and a simple black vest, he certainly looked the part of a bachelor since no self-respecting wife would have let her husband go out in the middle of the night so casually dressed.
"You didn't answer my question, Mr. Barnes." Steve reminded him quietly, looking in Bucky's direction once more.
Bucky stopped shaving for a moment, eyes squinting as if he were confused or trying to remember something. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” The question sounded sincere enough, but Bucky was just buying time.
As he covered his mouth and chin area with a layer of soap, he looked the man over again. Really looked at him instead of just a glance for the first time since he’d arrived. Alright, so “not too bad looking” was a bit of an understatement. He was tempted to offer the man a freebie, but had to remind himself again that this wasn’t the time for that. Not to mention not the person. Were he anyone but the sheriff...but he wasn’t.
He gestured to Steve’s unshaven face with his razor before starting on his upper lip. “Look like you could use a shave, yourself. You been workin’ too hard lately?” He secretly liked the look, but again, was buying time.
Dem glasses. You should not be able to look sexy in dem glasses. Curse you, Sebastian Stan!carriesashieldMay 31 2012, 01:19:14 UTC
The look Steve shot his way was long-suffering and unamused. After all, this poor man had been dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night to deal with two of his least favorite people in the world, drunks and abusive drunks.
"Did you walk in and he pulled on you so that is why you killed Keaton?" He repeated as he finished fussing with the dress and turned his attention to the room and its occupant more closely. Bucky's unexpected observation had one sandy brow shooting upwards as the first gleam of humor touched the tired man's face.
"Are you offering me a shave, Mr. Barnes?" Steve drawled a little incredulously. "And yes, shootings in the middle of the night tend to do that unfortunately. Now, if you'd just answer the question, we could all get back to bed once this nasty business is taken care of. If not, I'm afraid I'll have to escort you down to the station for your own protection. Mooney Keaton has some pretty nasty kin I've been lead to believe. I doubt you want to be here when they kind out you killed their Pa."
I'm more interested in doing a weird western type of scenario, but will do straight western if you'd prefer.]
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"Pardon me, I thought you were dressed for company." Steve's gaze landed on the wig but didn't put two and two together just yet as he turned his back to the woman. "I need to ask you a few questions about what happened to night, I'll give you a few minutes to get dressed." From behind, the flush of embarrassment crawled down Steve's neck as well. He sounded ever bit the stiff Yankee New Yorker in that moment too as he moved to the door.
Reply
As the only man, and a man with a built-in weapon, he had appointed himself the girls’ protector-despite the fact that most of them could get along well enough without him. A girl had to be tough to make it in this line of work, and they could take care of themselves. He only regretted that one of the few times a girl had needed his help, he hadn’t gotten there till she was half beaten to death.
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With the careful precision of someone who had done it many times, Bucky dabbed off the lipstick, turned to a different corner of the handkerchief, removed the black from his eyes. “Took Kat upstairs and that was the last I saw of ‘em till I started hearing the screaming.”
Setting the handkerchief down on the bureau, he examined his face, rubbing his cheeks with his hands. Despite having no visible scruff, he wet the shaving brush and soap and began to lather up. It didn’t matter if the stubble was visible; if it could be felt, it was time to shave.
Reply
Both repelled and fascinated by the industrious way the (well...what was he? A sodomite?) was wiping away first the lipstick and then the kohl lining his eyes, the blond sheriff finally tore his gaze away from the unsettling sight. He'd seen a lot in his days including a couple of sodomites in the army but this was definitely a first for him. But he had to remind himself that his business here wasn't to ask this obviously mixed up man why he was parading around in women's clothing, it was about the young Kat who was even now battling for her life ( ... )
Reply
“Yessir, and it wasn’t a pretty sight, neither.” His tongue slid across his lower lip as he loaded his brush with soap. Was it a subconscious act of concentration or deliberate? Who besides Bucky could tell?
“You have to understand, sir, I made a pledge a while back to look after my own. So when I saw him beatin’ poor Kat to death, I had to intervene.” He plucked a hair from the wig and opened his straight razor, cutting the hair to test its sharpness. He then wet his face before brushing the soap onto one side of his face.
Reply
Reply
He began to slowly, ever so carefully shave the portion of his face that was covered with soap. One stroke, two. He wiped the blade off on the handkerchief, remaining silent as he worked.
Reply
The blond man's eyes were dispassionate as he moved to pick up the dress Bucky had left discarded on the floor. He moved as though to lay it out on the bed so it wouldn't get wrinkled but what Steve was really looking for was blood splatter across the front of the dress, thus indicating the sodomite's distance between Keaton when the shot had been fired. Steve in fact had already noted the large exit wounds on Keaton's body indicating he'd been shot from the front. There had been a six shooter close to the body that had been engraved along the stock of the barrel M.K. so it was a fair assumption that it was the late Keaton's piece.
"So what happened? You came in and he drew on you so you dropped him, is that it?"
Reply
He gave the other man a droll look as he gathered more soap on his brush. “No. Kat had nothing to do with his death.”
And he wasn’t telling Steve anything else. Not if he could help it. Brushing soap onto the other side of his face, he looked at the blonde out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t too bad looking, really. Better than a lot of the guys who came here. But that wasn’t why he was here. Bucky had to remember that. He was being questioned for murder, not trying to bring in a customer. Thus began the stroke of his razor. One...two…
Reply
The sheriff definitely wasn't hard on the eyes in the least, not with his tall build and obvious muscles. When combined with his good looks, bright blond hair and blue eyes, he'd certainly caused his fair share of second looks and sighs from the female population in the city. Unlike Bucky though, he was unshaven thanks to having been dragged out of his bed at the local boarding house in the middle of the night. And wearing a faded blue shirt, dark pants and a simple black vest, he certainly looked the part of a bachelor since no self-respecting wife would have let her husband go out in the middle of the night so casually dressed.
"You didn't answer my question, Mr. Barnes." Steve reminded him quietly, looking in Bucky's direction once more.
Reply
As he covered his mouth and chin area with a layer of soap, he looked the man over again. Really looked at him instead of just a glance for the first time since he’d arrived. Alright, so “not too bad looking” was a bit of an understatement. He was tempted to offer the man a freebie, but had to remind himself again that this wasn’t the time for that. Not to mention not the person. Were he anyone but the sheriff...but he wasn’t.
He gestured to Steve’s unshaven face with his razor before starting on his upper lip. “Look like you could use a shave, yourself. You been workin’ too hard lately?” He secretly liked the look, but again, was buying time.
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"Did you walk in and he pulled on you so that is why you killed Keaton?" He repeated as he finished fussing with the dress and turned his attention to the room and its occupant more closely. Bucky's unexpected observation had one sandy brow shooting upwards as the first gleam of humor touched the tired man's face.
"Are you offering me a shave, Mr. Barnes?" Steve drawled a little incredulously. "And yes, shootings in the middle of the night tend to do that unfortunately. Now, if you'd just answer the question, we could all get back to bed once this nasty business is taken care of. If not, I'm afraid I'll have to escort you down to the station for your own protection. Mooney Keaton has some pretty nasty kin I've been lead to believe. I doubt you want to be here when they kind out you killed their Pa."
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