( @swordfiles - CLOSED RP )
āOh come on, youāre kidding me...ā Helena muttered under her breath with her microphone muted during a meeting with some fellow S.H.I.E.L.D agents and their boss, Nick Fury. Her slender fingers drummed against her desk, trying to disguise the obvious look of disappointment in her face; The crease in her forehead, the slightly raised eyebrows, the look in her eyes that sent daggers flying through the air if eyes and looks could kill.Ā
Looking at the calendar - or rather plan of sorts - set out in front of her on the screen, she wanted to roll her eyes. The meeting was dragging on for all of the solo agents it seemed, and it was clear their upcoming months werenāt going to be that eventful. Now, that may sound wrong, since who the hell would want disasters or acts of terror to happen just to be able to do their job and have something to do? It wasnāt that, it was more that, well... Helena knew sheād have to resort to some very long-term technological work in that division for a while,Ā ācause for once there were almost too many people on one job.Ā Even after the last train wreck the world had been through with the UN attack and the whole Winter Soldier ordeal that seemed to be firing up in the media.
No way in hell could she just take a seat, lean back and work in another division for a little while. She liked keeping her pace, keeping her solo agent work. When her mind seemed to think back to the Winter Soldier ordeal, an idea popped up in her mind. And she knew she had to act on it. Both for her own sanity, for her job and maybe to try and one-up that one Captain Rogers who had been rumoured to be set on finding the soldier.Ā
So, by capturing loose thread and various leads, Helena was on a good track and found a lot of witness testimonies that had a connection; All to one place. And there she was on a street in Bucharest.
Getting used to a somewhat normal life as a civilian wasnāt exactly an easy task; At least not when having a past of basically being a killing robot used by a Nazi organisation. When trying to pick a place that was good enough to try and build up a foundation for a steady and anything else than abnormal life, there were many things to think of and many questions to ask. The where, what, why and when. Somewhere off grid, but not too obviously off-grid so it could be a place somewhere would look and try and find him. Somewhere with people, a few too many, so there were a few too many to be able to blend in with. Somewhere he wouldnāt easily be singled out as the odd man out. So, Bucky chose Bucharest.
Barnesā days were spent trying to get his life somewhat together, even though things werenāt looking amazing just yet. Who was he kidding- Things were looking shitty, and thatās how it was. The dirty mattress on the floor that heād found dumped at some dumpsite, the cramped kitchen and the foggy windows. He was living in a shit-hole. But it was his, and he didnāt exactly have any other bigger or better places to go.
Besides, heād been through worse. Heād seen worse. Lived worse.
Bucky did his usual morning routine of making sure every lock worked and making sure his stash of items that were left beneath some floorboards were still there, all stuffed in a backpack. In it were general supplies, but even maps of the sewers and escape routes; Just in case.
Locking the door to his apartment, he kept his face down, adjusting his cap as he walked down the narrow hall to the stairwell. He was so focused on making sure no one really could get a good look at him that he bumped into a strangerās shoulder on accident.
āOh- Iām sorry, I didnāt see you-ā
