“i wouldn’t call it really a problem.” actually, ky would call it an improvement, but then again, he could go back to drinking all the time as well. maybe that way… he wouldn’t be as angry all the time. “some would call it an improvement form drinking three-sixty-five.”
Bucky’s guard is still completely up. There’s every possibility that this is a trap; obviously this man knows exactly who he is. If he eases up- if he relaxes at all, he could end up right back in the hands of HYDRA. That’s not happening, not ever again. “Who?” He asks, looking around with sharp eyes at every possible vantage point. There’s no snipers that he can detect, no one around acting especially suspicious. Turning uneasy eyes back on Ky, his eyes narrow slightly. The faster he can get this over with, the faster the guy will go away, the faster he can start moving. He doesn’t know how he was found, despite every precaution he’d taken to ensure he wouldn’t. All he knows is he needs to get out of here, immediately. Move to a new location where no one could follow.
arms folded across his chest as he gave a short glance around. he could have explained himself properly — even to the point of cutting out the ‘crap’ in his own way. the only problem was he doubted that it would have worked in this situation. he didn’t have all the information, nor did he have all the answers — a reason to why instead of staying in a hotel room… he was here doing this shit. “i believe we both know the answer to that.” the words were said bluntly; relying on his own assumptions than actual facts. if it came to a fight, things would get complicated, but all the same, he was hoping to avoid that at all costs.
Bucky Barnes wants to be left alone. He’s still working through the worst of HYDRA’s programming, still fighting to find some semblance of the man they’d stripped away repeatedly for the last several decades. Until he gets himself under wraps- until he feels safe in his own body again, it would be nice if the whole world and all of its problems just fucked right off. He’d fled America, his first home, for the specific purpose of remaining anonymous and unbothered. Now the lingering gaze of the man across from him is, understandably, unsettling. It takes him a moment, warring with himself and the different urges (eliminate threat, evade, ensure ongoing survival) welling up inside, but eventually he makes his way closer to the stranger and asks in as calm and even a tone he can manage, “Pot să vă ajut?”
tracking down former hydra agents – in america or otherwise – was dangerous. even more so when most of them didn’t want to be found. not that he could blame them at any-rate… their position was dangerous. more dangerous than before they were revealed to still be around from after the war. suffice to say, all ky wanted to do was gather what info he could, and then have a nice nap in his almost frozen hotel room. “maybe,” he couldn’t fully speak several languages, but he knew enough — well, enough to get him by for where he was at. “looking for someone.” he stayed in english as it was easier, but given the chance he would change languages if needed.
Hellfirebound 