[A warmth dances through his veins, a sigh of comfort as he watches the little boar takes the prize. He can feel its breath against his skin, tickling gently alongside the piglet’s lips and tongue. He can’t help the pleased chuckle.]
We’ve made one, Ada. You helped too.
[As the boar grow more curious, berries devoured, he gently curves his hand around to lightly pet the side of its neck, trying to maintain a sense of concern without frightening the little creature away.]
[ he's the one who found the piglet in the first place, after all. it still seems hungry so she places the rest of the berries in front of it, movements slow and careful. it's strange to be so close to something so small and fragile; the animals back on her earth were easily twice her size, it's still jarring to see one so young.
its pulse is steady and it seems to be warming up to bucky fairly quickly, having not moved since bucky started petting it. ]
Dunno. I’m sure his ma’s probably worried about him being gone. Don’t think I could bring myself to. [His hand shifts, slipping further around and smoothing across the small boar’s back. It seems content enough to stay as it is for now, soaking in the attention and affection.]
You did plenty though. If I’d gone to get the berries, he would’ve run, no doubt. Probably gotten even more lost. This way, we can bring him back, see?
Yeah... Probably not every day he meets a person, right? [The pets shift into a light scrub, akin to that of scratching a puppy. Rather than shift away in dislike, the piglet seems to quite enjoy it, even backing up a fraction to get another part of his back scratched.]
And of course not. [He chuckles, the light reaching his eyes briefly again.] I didn’t want to make you wait on me though. Not when you’d come to find me. [He gives her a brief look then, the light still lingering. A moment passes before he glances back to the pig who’s grown comfortable enough with their presence to settled down on his haunches.]
[ the waiting, she means. she's not exactly in a hurry for much of anything these days, and learning to have patience isn't difficult when you've already lost everything.
but there's something about that light in his eyes, bright as the stars they watched together on her first night on the island and just as warm, that makes her pause. she starts to see a little now why 9S had ended up with jude the way he did.
instead of answering, she lowers a hand to the piglet, letting it take a moment to sniff at it before she lightly strokes down his snout once with a finger. ]
[When she reaches out, he carefully withdraws his hand to allow her the space. And then he watches. There’s always a calm to her movements, a simplicity and elegance that he’s never seen a human quite express. Perhaps something to do with her engineering, her plates and circuitry, but even as the physical constraints dictate the limitations, there’s something else so real—reactive—in the way Ada interacts with the world around her.
It steadies hearts, opens doors.
The graceful stroke of her finger earns a curious snort from the piglet, snuffling and bumping into her hand clumsily as it tries to understand what the single stroke means. Bucky regards the instance, the fumble and curiosity, and feels a sudden fondness for the both of these darling existences interacting in front of him, very real and very alive.]
[ she steadies the piglet as he stumbles against her hand, carefully nudging him back onto his haunches to regain his balance. she can feel his pulse, rabbit quick in his eagerness to explore more, the texture of his hide softer than the coarser ones she'd been used to of the adult boars back on her earth.
but it's that fumble and the curiosity that sparks a flicker of familiarity. she'd seen it before, groups of machine children gathered around pascal and later, even around her, their cries of "big sis" echoing around the forest as they stumbled over their eagerness to play and learn. it feels like it's been ages since then, since she'd deleted pascal's memories of them. but she still remembers, and likely will never forget.
she'd paused in her ministrations and the piglet protests by bumping his snout against her hand again, this time with more purpose. she breathes another amused huff, scratching along his neck instead. ]
[The accusation, familiar and comfortable, pries a short, amused laugh from him. It's not the first time Ada teased him. But the lilt and delivery are so on par with Bucky's usual sense of humor that how much it endeared her to him came at a genuine surprise.]
I have that problem, I guess. Always wanna make sure everyone feels like they’re important. Because they are. [Even you, Ada.]
There are worse traits to have though. Especially when this one gets us such a cute pig for a friend.
[ she shifts to sit on the forest floor next to bucky, long legs splayed in front of her and slightly bent at the knees. the piglet takes the opportunity to make his way between them and she cups his head carefully between her hands.
always wanna make sure everyone feels like they’re important. she wonders who will make sure he feels important too. ]
It's not bad. [ her thumbs run back and forth along the piglet's snout, watching the way it twitches beneath her touch, the way his ears flick to the side. ] Feeling important is a good thing.
[He watches each fraction of movement on Ada’s part, seamless and likely perfect to the nearest micron, if not smaller. She displays it so naturally, likely without even the faintest amount of conscious thought toward her physical construction, even as a prototype. None of it escapes him. He doesn’t know if it’s strange to marvel at it at every instance, but he does it anyway, unable to stop even as adorable as the piglet becomes at the gentle affection Ada gifts it.
(What does she see? What does she feel?)]
Yeah. I think so too. [Idly.
He joins her on the ground, arms crossed as he leans on his arm in their direction, though whether to be nearer to her or the baby boar, he isn’t sure. After a moment's pause he continues,]
Have you ever felt that way before? Like you’re doing something that matters.
[ it's hard not to notice bucky staring, but it doesn't really bother her. she's gotten the same stares since her arrival, in varying degrees of curiosity and unease, and she'd come to accept that. she's different from humans, different from 9S and 2B, even though they were all part of yorha at some point; sometimes she misses it, the feeling of belonging to something. there's nothing left for her to belong to anymore.
she supposes in the end it doesn't really matter. not when she's here, sitting in the forest with bucky, petting a baby boar like it's something they've always done. like it's something normal people do all the time, even if neither of them are normal. ]
... I guess I did. [ doing something that matters. purpose, duty. they're not that different. even if they were expendable, only used for combat data to be implemented in future models, at the very least they had a purpose. ] I knew I was fighting for something.
[While the direct response came with some relief, her description after quickly disperses it, the phrasing concerning and indicative of underlying disagreement. His gaze moves to the boar now, the small piglet snuffling and studying Ada’s hands as they idle.]
[ what did she want? the idea of wanting anything is a foreign concept, one that she had never taken the time to consider. they were made for a specific purpose in mind: to gather data, all to perpetuate the lie that they and future generations were given. but at the time, she had a purpose. at the time, she had believed in what she was fighting for. and maybe she didn't make a difference in the end, maybe all of it was pointless, but she is still here. she is still alive, even though she should have died with the rest of them in that tower. ]
No, [ she says eventually, fingers going back to running over the piglet's head, past his ears and along his back. ] It wasn't. Not that it matters anymore.
[ yorha is gone. they have nothing left to return to. ending up on this world was likely the best alternative they've been given. ]
[It matters, he thinks. It always does. Every little bit that a person can brush off as nothing always ends up as something, and he knows this now, so much time having passed and all the weight of living having built up.
When she asks, he gives a soft huff, ready to answer easily, but
his mind blanks. He isn’t sure what he's supposed to say, even as instantaneously as the gut reaction to answer had come. He tries to wonder why, but instead feels a mind-numbing nothingness, not even sure of if he’s confused himself or if he’s forgotten something. Either way, it doesn’t feel particularly important. Probably just his poor sleep catching up with him.
(Unknown to him, the reality lays hidden from his consciousness, memories seeded deep in his brain of one Steve Rogers that had been his best friend entirely inaccessible to his conscious thought. Were it still within his grasp, it would be what had driven him for many years, but without memory of the importance of Steve, much of his past seems quite meaningless.)
After a moment, he closes his mouth and hums, soft self-reprimand of the oddness his exhaustion seems to have brought on before he shakes his head to reply properly.]
Can’t say that I have. Not beyond what I had to do to get by. I think I was mostly only around to make other people feel that way.
[ she takes a moment to think about it, looking up from the piglet to meet his gaze. ]
... Always want to make sure everyone feels like they’re important, huh.
[ again, she finds herself wondering who will be there to make him feel like he's important. she's certainly seen him doing a lot of that, even in the short amount of time she's known him; he insists she's more than what she is, he gave her a name. it's more than she can say anyone else has done for her.
apparently, piglets aren't exempt from that either. ]
You don't have to. You're not responsible for making people feel that.
[ she wonders if he spends the same amount of time thinking about himself as much as he would for others. she wonders about the difficulties of that, of the burdens he must carry. ]
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lefthandfree) wrote2017-09-25 08:02 am
no subject
We’ve made one, Ada. You helped too.
[As the boar grow more curious, berries devoured, he gently curves his hand around to lightly pet the side of its neck, trying to maintain a sense of concern without frightening the little creature away.]
You still hungry? Do you want more?
no subject
[ he's the one who found the piglet in the first place, after all. it still seems hungry so she places the rest of the berries in front of it, movements slow and careful. it's strange to be so close to something so small and fragile; the animals back on her earth were easily twice her size, it's still jarring to see one so young.
its pulse is steady and it seems to be warming up to bucky fairly quickly, having not moved since bucky started petting it. ]
Are you gonna keep it?
no subject
You did plenty though. If I’d gone to get the berries, he would’ve run, no doubt. Probably gotten even more lost. This way, we can bring him back, see?
[And it definitely is a “we”.]
no subject
[ she notices the "we" but doesn't comment on it aside from breathing an amused huff, a smile threatening to pull at the corner of her mouth. ]
Are you trying to say I wouldn't be able to keep him from running?
no subject
And of course not. [He chuckles, the light reaching his eyes briefly again.] I didn’t want to make you wait on me though. Not when you’d come to find me. [He gives her a brief look then, the light still lingering. A moment passes before he glances back to the pig who’s grown comfortable enough with their presence to settled down on his haunches.]
Y’wanna have a turn? [Petting, obviously.]
no subject
[ the waiting, she means. she's not exactly in a hurry for much of anything these days, and learning to have patience isn't difficult when you've already lost everything.
but there's something about that light in his eyes, bright as the stars they watched together on her first night on the island and just as warm, that makes her pause. she starts to see a little now why 9S had ended up with jude the way he did.
instead of answering, she lowers a hand to the piglet, letting it take a moment to sniff at it before she lightly strokes down his snout once with a finger. ]
no subject
It steadies hearts, opens doors.
The graceful stroke of her finger earns a curious snort from the piglet, snuffling and bumping into her hand clumsily as it tries to understand what the single stroke means. Bucky regards the instance, the fumble and curiosity, and feels a sudden fondness for the both of these darling existences interacting in front of him, very real and very alive.]
no subject
but it's that fumble and the curiosity that sparks a flicker of familiarity. she'd seen it before, groups of machine children gathered around pascal and later, even around her, their cries of "big sis" echoing around the forest as they stumbled over their eagerness to play and learn. it feels like it's been ages since then, since she'd deleted pascal's memories of them. but she still remembers, and likely will never forget.
she'd paused in her ministrations and the piglet protests by bumping his snout against her hand again, this time with more purpose. she breathes another amused huff, scratching along his neck instead. ]
Seems like you've spoiled him for attention.
no subject
I have that problem, I guess. Always wanna make sure everyone feels like they’re important. Because they are. [Even you, Ada.]
There are worse traits to have though. Especially when this one gets us such a cute pig for a friend.
no subject
always wanna make sure everyone feels like they’re important. she wonders who will make sure he feels important too. ]
It's not bad. [ her thumbs run back and forth along the piglet's snout, watching the way it twitches beneath her touch, the way his ears flick to the side. ] Feeling important is a good thing.
[ she thinks, anyway. ]
no subject
(What does she see? What does she feel?)]
Yeah. I think so too. [Idly.
He joins her on the ground, arms crossed as he leans on his arm in their direction, though whether to be nearer to her or the baby boar, he isn’t sure. After a moment's pause he continues,]
Have you ever felt that way before? Like you’re doing something that matters.
no subject
she supposes in the end it doesn't really matter. not when she's here, sitting in the forest with bucky, petting a baby boar like it's something they've always done. like it's something normal people do all the time, even if neither of them are normal. ]
... I guess I did. [ doing something that matters. purpose, duty. they're not that different. even if they were expendable, only used for combat data to be implemented in future models, at the very least they had a purpose. ] I knew I was fighting for something.
[ even if it was a lie. ]
no subject
Not what you wanted?
no subject
No, [ she says eventually, fingers going back to running over the piglet's head, past his ears and along his back. ] It wasn't. Not that it matters anymore.
[ yorha is gone. they have nothing left to return to. ending up on this world was likely the best alternative they've been given. ]
What about you?
no subject
When she asks, he gives a soft huff, ready to answer easily, but
his mind blanks. He isn’t sure what he's supposed to say, even as instantaneously as the gut reaction to answer had come. He tries to wonder why, but instead feels a mind-numbing nothingness, not even sure of if he’s confused himself or if he’s forgotten something. Either way, it doesn’t feel particularly important. Probably just his poor sleep catching up with him.
(Unknown to him, the reality lays hidden from his consciousness, memories seeded deep in his brain of one Steve Rogers that had been his best friend entirely inaccessible to his conscious thought. Were it still within his grasp, it would be what had driven him for many years, but without memory of the importance of Steve, much of his past seems quite meaningless.)
After a moment, he closes his mouth and hums, soft self-reprimand of the oddness his exhaustion seems to have brought on before he shakes his head to reply properly.]
Can’t say that I have. Not beyond what I had to do to get by. I think I was mostly only around to make other people feel that way.
no subject
... Always want to make sure everyone feels like they’re important, huh.
[ again, she finds herself wondering who will be there to make him feel like he's important. she's certainly seen him doing a lot of that, even in the short amount of time she's known him; he insists she's more than what she is, he gave her a name. it's more than she can say anyone else has done for her.
apparently, piglets aren't exempt from that either. ]
You don't have to. You're not responsible for making people feel that.
[ she wonders if he spends the same amount of time thinking about himself as much as he would for others. she wonders about the difficulties of that, of the burdens he must carry. ]