{I am up against the wall

[forasecond]

Who: Five + Various
When: Month of September
Where: Around town
What: Various threads through the month.
Warnings: Depression/anxiety/PTSD mentions or descriptions; assassination/mass murder/themes of war; flippant references to child abuse/neglect/violence; mentioned and played out use of alcohol (which looks like underage use, all considered); will clearly mark if-when anything comes up.

I have killed a man and all I know

Is I am on the run and go

Comments

[forasecond]

Five went years without the luxury of eating for the sake of more than bare-basic survival. How good something was or wasn't really didn't matter, he just had to make sure he didn't die that day. Every day. For forty-five years. It was a rough and exhausting time, but he learned a number of useful skills in all that time, too. Skills he's glad to have, especially now that he's found himself in this strange, frozen tundra of a town.

"Like I said- easy." he nods a little. If watching that minor display affects him at all, it's hard to tell. Is a metal prosthetic really the strangest thing he's ever seen? No. It barely registers as more than just that- a prosthetic.

He tips his head to the side a little, "What am supposed to call you, anyway? You remember a name yet?"

sorry for the delay! month-end close kicked my butt

[worthallthis]

He slides a glance sideways at Five, expression going, if possible, even more blank. "I haven't remembered anything." Which isn't entirely true, he's had a flash here and there of things with no context-- mostly mission things, he thinks, with the snow and trees-- and he's been told that he has a name. But he doesn't want it. And he certainly doesn't want anyone here calling him that.

"If you need a name. Just pick something. I don't care."

no worries! I tag most reliably abt 3 days a week anyway 😂

[forasecond]

“Really?” the doubt is strong in that one word. Sure, he can but he hasn’t remembered whole swaths of things, depending on just how deep all that memory blocking HYDRA put him through really went, but… nothing at all? He’s doubtful. But he also doesn’t push it beyond that one tiny word of call-out, either. There’s a balance to these things.

“My father numbered us because he didn’t see fit to give us names. My siblings chose names for themselves, but I never bothered… need is a strong word, but I’d think it might be useful to have something to introduce yourself by, unless you just wanna be That Guy With The Metal Arm around town.” Just a thought. It’s really not so much that Five thinks he needs a name, strictly speaking, but some sort of moniker would probably be useful.

[worthallthis]

"People can call me the asset," he says, frowning faintly. He's already said that much. "Or the soldier. HYDRA called me that, too. The. Winter Soldier?" He thinks the STRIKE team were laughing when they mentioned that one, but it has more of a ring to it than soldier on its own. "Though I am also fine with. That guy with the metal arm."

There aren't exactly a lot of them around, after all. It is effective, if a bit long.

[forasecond]

“You’re not somebody’s property anymore,” and while he may have turned his number into a name in spite of his father’s desire to distance them from the concept of being people… even Five can’t say he’d feel right calling the guy the asset.

“How about…” he thinks about it for a long moment, mulling over a few possibilities. “Vesper.” A reference to the ‘evening star’ of Roman myth. Maybe a little on the nose, given the insignia on his metal arm, but… hey. He’s only named one person in his whole life and she’s a mannequin so…

[worthallthis]

He doesn't even have to think about it. He just says, "Okay." He is completely unaware of the connotations, but it doesn't sound insulting, and even if it was, he isn't sure he'd care. He's been called worse.

It reminds him, incongruously, of church bells. He doesn't know why.

But it's not bad. So he adds, "I can answer to Vesper."

[forasecond]

That way-too-easy acceptance is unnerving in a way Five can't quite articulate. Something about how incongruent it is to his own defiance of people ever making decisions for him, maybe. Just sits very wrong underneath his skin.

"Found anything of interest in looking around town yet?" It's easier for him to switch into something of a work mode than making casual conversation, and Five is pretty sure that's probably more comfortable for Vesper, too.

[worthallthis]

The asset (Vesper? he doesn't know yet if he wants to use the name himself) considers, then reports, "Not much that's useful. Clothing. Canned goods. Blankets. A few tools, though nothing small enough yet to do repairs on the arm if necessary."

He considers, then adds, "Wolf tracks out in the woods. Not a danger yet, but possibly could be if they decide the human population is easier prey than deer and rabbits."