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.]
"I would not presume to assume anything about you, Mr. Barnes." Steve's tone was stiff. He didn't have much of a poker face unfortunately and Bucky would be able to easily read the watchfulness mingled with wariness in Steve's expression. He wanted to help the man, that was also written on the man's face. As was his immediate suspicion when Bucky said he was being held here against his will. The fact that the new sheriff was formerly a Captain in the Union army was no secret and thus he'd find the idea of forced servitude unpalatable at best. "In what way are you being held here, Mr. Barnes?" That being said, Steve wasn't just going to swallow whatever story he fed him hook, line and sinker.
A brow rose of its own accord. “I see you’re not interested in Keaton anymore.” He frowned, looking away again. “I told you. Got into trouble. Fell into debt. Gotta work it off.” Bucky considered himself lucky that he had the chance to work it off instead of just being outright killed. “Please. I don’t even care anymore if I get in trouble. Won’t be any more trouble than I’m in already. Just gotta get out of here.” He smirked. “Last I recall, slavery’s illegal now.”
"As I said, Keaton sounds to be an open and shut case of self-defense so no, I've got little interest in him. I'm more interested in why you need my help." He stated coolly and listened as Bucky laid out the sordid details of his background. The prostitute certainly knew which cards to play with the slavery crack because the blond man's mouth did thin to a grim line. "Who do you owe this money to? The owner of the brothel?"
He shook his head. “He doesn’t own the brothel; just keeps an eye on me. I know he does cause one time, I tried to escape, and...” And he’d lost his left arm. He shook the memory from his head. “He’s a Russian guy. I really shouldn’t tell you his name...”
His eyes narrowed again when Bucky trailed off significantly. It was only because the other man briefly glanced down at his arm that Steve was able to put the pieces together. "Russian?" The prostitute had given enough away however. The city had a modest amount of Russians and of them, there was only one person he knew of who was financially stable enough to lend 'money' to other people. "It's Lukin then?" he asked bleakly.
“Yeah. It’s Lukin.” Now that it was out in the open, now that the sheriff knew, Bucky felt a little weight lift off his chest. He was relieved the other man had been able to figure it out on his own, without Bucky having to give away everything. “So you can see why my hands are tied.”
"I see," The tall man frowned now and cast around Bucky's room for a bag of some kind. "Pack what you need and we'll leave." He finally said quietly. "I need to make sure the body gets to the undertaker but after that, I'll take you somewhere safe you can spent the night."
His eyes fell shut a moment with relief before he opened them and nodded. “Fair enough. I take it you’re gonna give me time to pack while you see to the body, ‘n’ then after that, you’ll come back for me? Take me someplace safe?” Bucky gave the other man another one-over, not trying to be all too subtle about it. Men leered openly at him often enough; he figured it was his right to get to leer back. “Where is this ‘safe place,’ anyway?”
"Exactly. It shouldn't take that long to see to the undertaker." The palpable relief from the other man stirred the blond's sympathy. He shouldn't become involved in this situation, Steve knew he was just opening a can of worms but he didn't like people who took advantage of others and he sure as hell didn't like this pseudo-slavery bullshit. He and his friends hadn't risked and even paid with their lives for the freedom of others to sit back and just let this happen in his town. "I think there is an opening at the boarding house I am staying at but if not, there'a always the jail."
“Hey, you yourself said I didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I ain’t spending the night in jail when I didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” He moved to start on his packing, but stopped and turned to the man, working his lip between his teeth. “Hey. Do you think we could stop by the doctor’s on our way over? I wanna see Kat.” Didn’t want to see her like this-once was more than enough-but he’d heard what kind of condition she was in, that she might not survive the night. If that was the case, he had to see her again, even if it was like this.
"There are fewer places in safer than the jail, Mr. Barnes. People tend to avoid them at all costs after all." The sheriff pointed out an obnoxiously even tone. He hadn't expected Bucky to concern himself with his fellow prostitute friend save for perhaps having saved her life and his concern raised him in Steve's esteem just a little. "Of course, why don't you pack a few changes of clothing for her as well and we'll drop them off at the doctor's. I'll be back in a few minutes, Mr. Barnes."
And once Steve slipped outside the room he'd quickly go about his business of tidying up the details with the undertaker and making sure Mr. Keaton's body ended up at the cemetery and not 'accidentally' misplaced somewhere along the way. After that, he was knocking once more on Bucky's door before letting himself inside. "Will the brothel owner inform Lukin that you're leaving?"
It was sweet of Steve to suggest Bucky bring a couple pairs of clothes for Kat. It really was. Just went to show the man’s optimism. Unfortunately, Bucky didn’t have that kind of optimism. He couldn’t afford to.
He crossed the hall to her room, still a murder scene. The blood of her assailant had not yet been washed away, and Bucky stepped around it to get to Kat’s wardrobe. After grabbing a bag to stick them in, he picked out a couple of the simpler dresses Kat wore when she wasn’t working in lieu of the more lavish dresses she donned at night. She, like Bucky, preferred to be comfortable.
Stepping around the blood again, he left Kat’s room, returning to his own room. By the time Steve returned, he was all packed and sitting on the bed again, waiting. The man’s question had Bucky’s brows knitting together. “If he sees me leavin’ with you, he might think I’m in trouble? Probably wouldn’t view it as an escape attempt.”
"Fair enough, let's go." Steve would pick up the second bag containing Kat's clothing and lead Bucky out into the night. The boardinghouse the sheriff was staying in was in a much more reputable part of town and not too far from the doctor's house as it would seem. Unfortunately, when they reached the residence, the grim-eyed man admitted them into the back room that consisted of his surgery
( ... )
I did not see a reason to. Bucky had stopped listening to the other men when the doctor said Kat had died, but those words brought him back to the world. I did not see a reason to. As if a prostitute’s soul just wasn’t worth saving. Why even bother to try with someone like that, right? But Bucky knew the other side of her, knew who she was outside the bedroom. And he felt himself consumed with rage toward this doctor who probably didn’t know or care about that side.
“Goddamn you,” he said, pushing past Steve. "I hope you rot in hell, you sonofabitch!” He spit right in the doctor’s face, and then he was stalking off before he did something worse.
Considering Steve was burning with the same kind of rage, he couldn't fault Bucky his anger but he did still move to pull the enraged man back before he did something more than spit in the face of the stunned doctor.
"You should read your bible more, Kincaid. Or have you forgotten the parts about Jesus welcoming even 'fallen' women into his circle and teachings?" The blond man spat coldly. "Fetch the priest and I'll be back to settle the bill later." And since he didn't trust himself not to manhandle the doctor either, Steve set out after the enraged man.
"Bucky! Wait up, dammit." Steve had to redouble his pace to catch up with the male prostitute and caught the man by his arm. He'd called him 'Bucky', not Mr. Barnes but by the name he'd given him. It was the first breach of polite protocol thus far this evening. Though judging by his rough language, the sheriff seemed just as fit to be tied as the shorter man.
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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And once Steve slipped outside the room he'd quickly go about his business of tidying up the details with the undertaker and making sure Mr. Keaton's body ended up at the cemetery and not 'accidentally' misplaced somewhere along the way. After that, he was knocking once more on Bucky's door before letting himself inside. "Will the brothel owner inform Lukin that you're leaving?"
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He crossed the hall to her room, still a murder scene. The blood of her assailant had not yet been washed away, and Bucky stepped around it to get to Kat’s wardrobe. After grabbing a bag to stick them in, he picked out a couple of the simpler dresses Kat wore when she wasn’t working in lieu of the more lavish dresses she donned at night. She, like Bucky, preferred to be comfortable.
Stepping around the blood again, he left Kat’s room, returning to his own room. By the time Steve returned, he was all packed and sitting on the bed again, waiting. The man’s question had Bucky’s brows knitting together. “If he sees me leavin’ with you, he might think I’m in trouble? Probably wouldn’t view it as an escape attempt.”
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“Goddamn you,” he said, pushing past Steve. "I hope you rot in hell, you sonofabitch!” He spit right in the doctor’s face, and then he was stalking off before he did something worse.
Reply
"You should read your bible more, Kincaid. Or have you forgotten the parts about Jesus welcoming even 'fallen' women into his circle and teachings?" The blond man spat coldly. "Fetch the priest and I'll be back to settle the bill later." And since he didn't trust himself not to manhandle the doctor either, Steve set out after the enraged man.
"Bucky! Wait up, dammit." Steve had to redouble his pace to catch up with the male prostitute and caught the man by his arm. He'd called him 'Bucky', not Mr. Barnes but by the name he'd given him. It was the first breach of polite protocol thus far this evening. Though judging by his rough language, the sheriff seemed just as fit to be tied as the shorter man.
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