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The Perk, Wednesday Morning

You know what went great with this whole 'trying to act like a normal human, trying to rejoin society' thing Bucky was trying out? Getting coffee somewhere other than the kitchen at the apartment.

So he was trying that out today.

Of course, by the time he actually made it to a table by one of the windows, he was already feeling kind of socialed out. The barista manning the counter had been far too into giving him a thorough answer to his innocent, idle question about what the differences between all the different kinds of coffee were.

Plus side? Guess he was now more knowledgeable about 2020s coffee culture than he had been fifteen minutes ago.

[ooc: Open!]

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Yelena had been taking Fanny out for a walk when the addictive need for a PSL took over. Well, at least it help curb her craving for fresh fish after the last week.

It was then that she spotted Bucky and there was just the slightest pause as she recognized him. Or at least she assumed it was him. Hey, Fandom and doppelgangers, right?

She grabbed her coffee of the counter and approached him slowly. "You look very familiar to me," she started off casually. "But I don't think we have met. Yelena Belova."

Slow was probably a good idea. Bucky was giving her kind of a wary look: the accent combined with her possibly recognizing him put him a little bit on edge.

Nothing personal, just trauma.

"Name doesn't ring a bell," he said, so mild it read almost gentle. "Face doesn't either."

"Well, we definitely haven't met personally," Yelena said with a head tilt. "But I believe you know my sister. Natasha Romanoff."

... Well. That could still go two different ways.

"I'd say 'know' is kind of a grand word for it," Bucky hazarded, slowly. "But we've met."

Yelena tilted her head again just watching Bucky, tapping her fingers on the side of the coffee cup. She continued keeping her tone light and conversational.

“Know. Know of,” Yelena said with a shrug. “I’m guessing then if you’re from the same place I’m from… You’re probably around the Sokovia accords?”

Bucky was going to... nod, against his better judgment.

(Something uncomfortable about being assessed like that. And with accuracy, too.)

"They went to shit, yeah."

"Oh, yeah, totally," Yelena agreed taking a sip of her coffee. "Total shit storm what happened after that. I come from a bit longer down the timeline apparently because, you know, that's apparently a thing here."

"I'm aware," Bucky replied, with a slightly dry tone that suggested he really, really was and had been for a long time.

His thumb fidgeted with the handle on his cup of coffee.

"Guess there's no point in me introducing myself now."

“The notorious Bucky Barnes? Bestie of Captain America and a boogeyman that most Russian intelligence tried to deny you existed? Yeah, no introductions needed,” Yelena said in a wry tone. “I apologize if this is making you uncomfortable. I just had to see if you were who I thought you were.”

"Well, you've got it," Bucky replied, not quite as wry but... sort of leaning in that general direction through the wariness. "One Зимний Солдат away from the full list."

His voice dropped into more of a mutter with that one.

"I'm not that guy anymore," he added, at more of his regular volume. (Not too loud either.) "I'm out of the game."

“Neither am I. Or at least I’m no longer a Black Widow,” Yelena replied, knowing that of all people on the island Bucky would understand what that truly meant. “I got stuck here. Working at Stark’s doing security.”

Yeah. Yeah, he did.

Although, he had to ask, "Stark as in Tony?"

“Yes, which still messes with my brain,” Yelena said with a smirk. “But he is kinder and more relatable than I thought he’d be.”

Bucky could offer... absolutely no comment on that last part.

(It was complicated.)

"Well, I guess he's one of the better guys, at least."

Wanna know what guy didn't recognize Bucky at all? This guy. Because why would he? Different super soldier programs, different universes. Still? Still. Kind of. Wait until Secret Wars probably.

So Bucky just got a grunt of acknowledging his existence in the space whole Logan tried to get a drink that wasn't just fucking full of sugar.

He got something of a vague bro nod in return.

Bucky had managed to get a regular coffee from the people behind the counter, so the odds were good.

The people behind the counter were just giving the people what they wanted. And sometimes that was a horror show of sugar.

Logan narrowed his eyes at Bucky after a moment, sizing him up in a totally normal, totally not weird way for living on a friendly island where (so far) nothing had attempted to kill him. Beyond annoyance, that is.

"You new in town or something?" he asked after coming to a conclusion on that sizing up thing.

Congrats on being more of a hermit than Logan, Bucky. Congrats.

"Depends on who you ask."

Not really. The last time he hadn't been a hermit had been before the war.

"Well, I'm askin' you," Logan replied dryly.

Because he'd just want to throw a coffee cup if he asked Remy and would get messed with if he asked Yelena.

"No," Bucky relented, "I'm not new. By any stretch of the imagination."

Infrequent, but not new.

Logan grunted in acceptance of that answer. Because now he could point to someone else when someone called him a hermit and say it wasn't true.

Clearly a red letter day.

"Not a fan of the warm hospitality of the place or something?" Oh, how sarcastic he made that. It was a gift!

"What makes you guess that?"

"Call it a gift," Logan replied. Or just, you know, like called to like. Or something. "Sure as hell haven't seen you at any of the parties they love throwin' around here."

And he hadn't even gone to one in the honest to god ballroom yet!

"Not really a party person," Bucky... confirmed, because yes, that part of the assessment was 100% correct. "Prefer quieter spaces."

Surely a surprise coming from someone who looked like he was trying actively to make himself seem smaller.

"Plenty of those around town, too."

Oh yeah? How was that working out for him?

"Boring as shit too."

Clearly Bucky needed a manic, pixie, dream assassin to pull a full on Stella's Got Her Groove Back style revamp of his life. But no Madonna music. That was taken.

~~Is this a Marvel party? It's a Marvel party!~~

Remy came in, ordered his usual, and offered Bucky a familiar nod as he waited for it. He didn't know the man personally -- this version or the one from his universe -- but he recognized him enough from the Avengers to know that he probably came from somewhere that more resembled Remy's own world than didn't.

So, you know. Familiar nod. Do with that what you will, Bucky.

Bucky would rather not do anything with it, if he was entirely honest, since the whole 'people greeting him like they knew him' thing kind of made him feel all kinds of wary, but...

He nodded back. With obviously much less familiarity.

Ah. Yeah, that made sense. He was probably from one of those weird, no-mutants worlds.

"Sorry," he offered. "You look like someone who runs in the same circles I do back home."

"Guy have a metal arm, by any chance?" Bucky asked, sounding mostly resigned.

His own left arm was currently entirely MIA, of course.

Remy had to think for a second, then nodded. "I think so?"

He was far from the only one in Remy's world with that particular quirk.

"Then it's probably me," Bucky replied, on something like a sigh.

He eyed the guy for a second, but just like with Yelena, there was nothing. Not even a distant bell, somewhere.

"I don't know who you are. Sorry."

"Naturellement," Remy muttered. (He took that not being known by folks he could recognize a lot harder now that he knew he'd been pruned from some universes.) "None of you Avengers on the island do. Well, 'cept Stark, maybe. The rich one, not the one with the mask."

You know, in case Bucky was wondering.

Remy's coffee was ready and he accepted it, then nodded to a chair near Bucky. "You mind?"

The rest of that could all wait. There was this thing:

"I'm not an Avenger," Bucky said. He had to make that clear. Mild but definite. "Not on the island, and not back... where I came from."

(What was home, anyway?)

Remy blinked once.

"'Kay. Neither am I."

Honestly, he could get behind someone having that kneejerk reaction to being called one. Stupid fancy well-respected superhero team.

Bucky gave him a small nod for it.

And then, after a beat (after thinking about it), another towards the chair Remy had indicated before.

Remy took the chair, lounging back and sipping his coffee. "Remy LeBeau," he offered.

"Bucky," Bucky replied. Yes, even though it had already been established as likely obvious. He was giving this humaning a shot.

He sipped his coffee, and gave it another one. "So... What are you instead of an Avenger?"

Something wry in his tone, maybe. Or at least an attempt.

"Currently . . . I work at the junk shop in town."

Sort of. Sometimes.

"But before I got here, I was usually found on one of the X-teams. Which . . . I guess might not exist where you're from."

"Might just not know about 'em," Bucky had to point out. He was not guessing correctly as to what the 'X-teams' might be like in terms of operation. "But that does seem more likely. If they're not covert."

"Cyclops likes to wear bright blue and yellow," Remy said dryly. "They're not subtle."

Thor had been on his way to do the weekly grocery shopping when he decided to ~~join the Marvel party~~ fortify himself with an apple coffee (it was good, Don) before he got started.

"No, I do not wish for a peppermint mocha," he had to tell the barista. "It is not yet Thanksgiving. Everything in its proper season." Hmph. Mortals were so hasty sometimes.

Oh, look, someone who actually pinged familiar to Bucky. Not personally, more through media (and whatever Steve had mentioned to him about who all lived on the island these days), but close enough.

Didn't mean he was actually going to initiate anything. He just watched the exchange over the edge of what was left of his coffee.

Bucky didn't ping familiar to Thor, because the last Thor had known, Bucky Barnes had been long dead and hadn't been retconned out of being a teenager yet. (Thor wasn't quite up to date with the news.)

Thor did, however, notice he was being watched, and said, "Good morning," to the watcher.

"Morning," Bucky replied. After a beat, to decide whether he should just stick to a nod. (But no, he was here to try and... human, and at least Thor did not seem to recognize him, and right now that felt like a welcome thing.) "They do give out normal coffee, too," he added. "I've seen it."

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The Perk, Wednesday Morning

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