Midnight Shadows Guided Games GENEsis: DOFP Genesis In Character Days of Future Past [Other] You Can Run... [Bucky / Jamie]


09-12-2019
08:59 PM
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09-12-2019, 08:59 PM
You Can Run... [Bucky / Jamie] [Post #1]
You Can Run...

Jamie knew that coming back to New York City would be signing his own death, but after he had felt another dupe die, he knew he couldn't hide away in Ireland. It had been hell to leave Terry behind, she would probably flay him for disappearing like that, and he couldn't blame her. He was an asshole, having promised to not discard his life like that ever again, he was now running head on into danger.

And he really didn't care. Not when he had been able to save Leif Thorson, while trying to sort out another dead dupe.

They had slowly starting to get out of hiding, realising that with Lang dead they were safe again, only to get murdered one by one. Jamie had a pretty good idea who was doing it, hell he caught glimpses of their murderer. Not a full picture, just enough.

Jamie was tracking one of his dupes right now, he had gotten a text from him, that he felt like someone was stalking him. Jamie looked at his phone, watching the gps dot move only a few blocks ahead of him. The dot had slowed down considerably since he had started tracking and Jamie just knew that that wasn't good.

Whatever was going on, it would end tonight. Of that Jamie was certain. He left the main street, ducking into an alley. A very dark alley.

RULES
* For Bucky [Chrissie] & Jamie [Ellen] initially. Crashing is allowed.
* All GENEsis and Board rules apply.
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09-13-2019
09:09 PM
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09-13-2019, 09:09 PM
[In-Character] [Post #2]
The alley was narrow. No more than two men, shoulder to shoulder, would be able to manoeuvre it at the same time. Light was a scarce commodity – just the way he needed it to be. So Bucky just stood in the shadows, unmoving. Waiting – with patience. He focussed on his own heartbeat, emptying his mind.

He pushed away the last days. He could not properly recount how many had passed. He had been too hard at work – at work to put his mind back together, to heal, to accept what had happened. To himself, to Carol. At times, Bucky believed to be on a good path. Then at other times, it overwhelmed him. What Carol was going through, what she had suffered. And then things his own memory would push at him.

When things had begun … it had been coincidence.

That’s how it always begun, right?

Bucky had gone for a walk. Oddly enough, Emma had come to him to offer. Get some air, get out. Telepaths have ways of shielding others. Bucky had gladly accepted.

He had met the dupe at a coffee stand. Steven Lang all over again. It had struck Bucky like a bolt of lightning, had rooted him to the spot. He had been unable to move further, instead he had just watched. A man, the spitting image of the monster who had brutalised the mother of his child. He had not worn the same kind of suit. No three-piece suit. No tie. No dress shirt. Jeans, a long-sleeved sweater. The hair was longer. The expression somewhat lighter.

Still, the same man.

Bucky had followed him. For hours. Fascinated, enthralled. Drawn in by the idea that Steven Lang still existed in this world. He was not truly dead yet. He would never be as long as Jamie Madrox existed. Just that this wasn’t Madrox. Bucky had no definite proof – just a gut feeling. This was another duplicate. Another man who own the ability to reproduce; who could possibly create another Lang.

That was when Bucky had snapped. With motions swift and silent, he had dragged the man into an alley. For a moment, he had stared into eyes that telegraphed loudly that this one had no idea who Bucky was or what he wanted. Bucky didn’t care.

The sound of the neck breaking drowned in the volume of every-day, March New York.

Bucky exhaled, pushing air through the fabric of the half-face mask he wore. Winter Soldier gear. He was all in black. The red star almost shone on his bionic arm. He stared at the form of yet another Lang, fingers a tight grip on the man’s face. There were no words that needed to be spoken. The duplicate knew what was to come.

Bucky pushed – and the skull broke against the brick wall behind the dupe.

He stood back, let the body slide to the ground.
“I know you’re there, coward”, he eventually said, not moving. There was no need. Neither of them would be running. Not just yet anyway …
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09-13-2019
11:15 PM
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09-13-2019, 11:15 PM
[In-Character] [Post #3]
Jamie looked at his phone again, almost there, he was almost with his dupe. Just another alley away, his own heart beating hard in his chest. He didn’t know what he would find, but he was sure that it wouldn’t be good. The dot stopped moving, and Jamie swallowed. He knew what was coming.

Like always, his mind became very silent before it got hit with all the memories of the dupe that had died.

Like right now, his mind assaulted with all the things the dupe had learned, had gone through. His whole life flashed in front of Jamie’s inner eyes. His name had been Frank, he had lived his life, a simple one, had tried to pick up computer science right before the thread of Lang had emerged.

He had hidden himself, only to surface when Lang had disappeared and tried to pick up his studies again. Except, he had been followed. It had left him afraid, and now… now he was dead.

And the man who had murdered Frank, wasn’t an unknown to Jamie. James Buchanan Barnes. He had been the one who had been taking out his dupes, that didn’t come to him as a surprise. After all, they all looked like the man who had ruined the life of the woman Barnes loved.

Shaking his head, he pushed the memories away. He had gotten better at that again, something Terry had told him. To not become the other man. To keep them separate from himself. After his dupes had started dying, he had enough practice. It had to stop though; they were not that monster. That monster had been a fluke, one of a kind, an anomaly. Jamie was certain that there wouldn’t be a another one.

But clearly Barnes thought differently.

He reached the alley the dupe had been hiding, caught the body sliding down the wall and he just stood there. Rooted to the spot as he basically saw his own face dead on the floor.

“You’ve been busy.” He grounded out, his eyes still on the dead man. Jamie was done feeling sorry for himself, he had paid the price for Lang. However this would go tonight, it would end one way or another. He shoved his phone back in his pocket, his gaze finally traveling up until his eyes fell on the man who had just murdered an innocent man.

“This has to stop.” Jamie just wondered how it would end, would it end with him dead on the ground next to his dupe?
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09-14-2019
08:57 AM
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09-14-2019, 08:57 AM
[In-Character] [Post #4]
Bucky knew exactly when he and this man had last been in a room. His mind jolting to lucidity, with his daughter in tow. Not much further and they would have succeeding in taking this man’s life. Jamie Madrox. A man with an ability so volatile he had produced a monster – a monster of which he now washed his hands.

What Bucky had not considered was the effect of hearing this voice. For a moment, every muscle in his body went taught. Memories pushed to the surface.

Oh boy, it was magnificent.
She pushed her legs apart for me
I flicked my tongue over it
I’d have put her on a leash
Again and again …
I fucked her.
Do you hear me, dimwit?


The voice, words scratched into the inside of his skull irrevocably, created a cacophony of knives digging into him. Bucky swallowed, stifling a pained groan threatening to rise from his stomach.

“Not busy enough”, he ground out, his voice monotone. He summoned up the dead mind of the Winter Soldier. No emotions. No remorse.

As Jamie spoke again, Bucky pushed forward. The motion abrupt, he had his momentum playing for him. A fist connected with the other man’s jaw. The goal was to knock him down. Knock him so hard that he would never get back up again. In his mind, he heard Carol … her words. She did not want this man dead. Well … Bucky was of a different mind. His existence alone put her at risk. At risk for another one of his sick creations developing too much a mind of his … at risk of continuing to live in fear.

“You don’t get to demand anything, you sick son of a bitch.” His voice was calm, low. Controlled – even if on the inside Bucky felt anything but. Even the Winter Soldier’s remnants could not quiet the anger that burned deep inside of him. It was an emotion he had nursed, had harboured. He had been unable not to feed into it, not to let it grow. Too often Carol woke from nightmares. Too often she shook uncontrollably in his arms.

Bucky watched as Madrox went down, hitting the wall behind him hard.

“She works harder to get better than I’ve ever seen anyone …”, he ground out as he approached Madrox. “For our daughter.” For a moment, Bucky stood above the other man’s form. Then he crouched lower, producing a knife from the side of his belt. The blade was gleaming in the slivers of light that reached the ally way.

Bucky let the blade dance, dragging the tip across the other man’s side of the neck. He was not breaking skin.

“Do you ever wake from nightmares?” He asked, piercing light grey-blue eyes staring down at Madrox. With his free hand, he pulled the mask he wore to the side. “Or do you wake up with your cock in hand, jerking off?” Bucky would never simply buy that there was no part of Lang in Madrox.
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09-14-2019
03:53 PM
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09-14-2019, 03:53 PM
[In-Character] [Post #5]
Jamie’s fingers itched, he wanted to reach for the weapon he had hid on his lower back but knew that in a fight with the Winter Soldier he would lose. Not that he was planning on losing, but he had to play this smart if he wanted to survive and let Terry kill him for being an idiot.

Then again, coming here was idiotic enough. He went down. Pain blossoming up on his jaw as a fist connected with it, and Jamie hit the wall behind him with a grunt as he went down. Well that was quick, but even if the blow had been hard, at least nothing was broken.

He worked his jaw, it just hurt and it would provide with a very large bruise but it was not broken. His back was sore as well, but nothing broken their either. Yeah, not smart coming here without any back up. But then again, this was a long time coming. It needed to be played out, because he was not planning on looking over his shoulder every time he would set foot on American soil.

Jamie remained silent, his eyes glittering with anger. He was getting punished for something that had been out of his hands. And yes, he knew exactly what had been done to Carol, had gotten the memories in full colour and stereo the moment that monster had stopped breathing. It had made him sick, because Jamie was nothing like that.

It had taken him a while to realise that this darkness had not come from him. When he looked at Terry, he felt love, when he touched her none of those dark desires that had roamed Steven Lang’s mind had surfaced.

His eyes caught the blade, not moving as it got dragged across Jamie’s neck. He didn’t even dare to swallow. Looking at Bucky, who was now on the same level as him, the question asked and the follow up made anger surge. Without even realising what he had done, he had shoved Barnes away from him.

“I’m nothing like that.” He ground out, getting up to his feet as the survival skills of one of his dupes jumped in. “I don’t get off hurting women or men.” Rubbing his jaw, he stepped back. “I never have, but that’s not something you want to believe.” Jamie came to the conclusion, because his dead dupes had given that away.

“It’s your way of rationalising killing those men.” He ground out. “Well, fuck you.” Jamie snarled. “Do they even know? What you’re doing?” Because he had a pretty good idea that they did not know it was Barnes who was doing the killing. Caitlin had been texting him, telling him to get his ass back and deal with this but she hadn’t told him who was doing it. She couldn’t, because she hadn’t known.

“I’m not responsible for that monster. He was a fluke.” And Jamie was still trying to find out how one so sick as Steven could have come into creation.
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09-14-2019
08:18 PM
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09-14-2019, 08:18 PM
[In-Character] [Post #6]
Bucky let the man talk, forcing himself to listen when all he wanted to do was crush this fellow’s skull. It would remove the threat Bucky was unable to accept in a single moment. He let the other man get back to his feet. Bucky could take a page or two out of Lang’s book. It was better when they struggled. Better when they fought back. Cold eyes regarded the other man – a sore excuse for a human being in Bucky’s eyes.

The man’s words meant nothing to him.

“What I believe doesn’t matter”, Bucky said, pushing closer again. He swung a punch, finding it deflected. The man was fighting back. It woke a primal beast inside of him – that which the Winter Soldier had drawn his strength from. It roared, stoked the anger burning. Madrox kept talking, and the words could not have acted more like fuel to the fire had he tried.

Bucky eventually feigned right, then let the knife dance on his palm and drove a fist holding on to the knife’s handle diagonally up and against the other man’s jaw with his left. Instantly he brought his right shoulder back down and landed a punch to Madrox’s temple that sent the other man down onto his knees. Bucky moved with speed and precision, putting himself behind the other man. The chokehold was in place instantly and Bucky growled, his nostrils flaring.

“That’s my wife he raped. Do you poor son of a bitch know what that means?” He pulled the chokehold tighter. “Do you know what it means when she wakes up screaming, shaking … when any touch could send her into a frenzy. She no longer feels safe. She no longer trusts. He took that from her … the man that you allowed to exist, that you helped bring into existence took that from her.”

Bucky gritted his teeth, his bionic arm whirred and he forced Madrox further down. “She’s pregnant … and he raped her. For two days, he barely let up …” Bucky swallowed, his voice momentarily going hoarse. “But you know all this. You know and still you’re washing your hands of it.”

Further down, forcing Madrox into a sitting position. “She doesn’t want you dead. So that saves your life. But I’ll be your nightmare. I’ll be who you see when your duplicates die. I’ll find every last one of them. I’ll be a ghost. You won’t see me coming… if you don’t take responsibility, then at least I’ll make sure you won’t create another Lang.”
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09-14-2019
09:11 PM
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09-14-2019, 09:11 PM
[In-Character] [Post #7]
Jamie was in survival mode, he knew that he had to get out of this alive or Terry would kill him all over. He wanted to live, wanted to get back to her and promise the world to her. But he also knew that there was a chance that he wouldn’t leave this alley alive. He knew the anger that was driving Barnes. He was in full revenge mode, and he would do anything to make Jamie pay for the horror called Steven Lang.

He would never escape that man; Jamie knew that that monster would always be a part of him. That he would always be associated with the man who had ruined so many lives. Terry had helped him come to terms with that. She saw him, not the monster. For now, that was enough.

He stopped in an incoming punch, jumping away he had his eyes on Barnes who was moving with far more skill than him. In that moment, Jamie knew that he wouldn’t get out of hit unscathed. The moment he thought that, Barnes attacked again, and whatever he tried, Jamie lost and found himself in a chokehold with a throbbing head.

His hands came up, trying to claw at the arm that was around his neck but when you were held by a bionic arm, you knew you weren’t getting free anytime soon. Gasping for air, he tried anyway. Barnes growled, his mouth near Jamie’s ear, and then he started to tell him how Lang had raped his wife.

Asking if he knew what that meant. Jamie knew all too well what that meant. He had that sick bastard’s memories in his mind. They were dormant now, only coming to live in his nightmares. For Carol though, they were active always. And he did feel remorse for that, wished he could take that away for her. The chokehold tightened and he started wheezing. No air was allowed in. And he really did need air to live.

Jamie had punished himself enough, Terry had thought so, had called him out on it. Had withheld herself from him until he realised that he was not Steven Lang. He pulled on Barnes’ arm again, trying to make him ease up on the hold but no luck. He found himself sitting on the ground now, listening to things he already knew. Had already figured out.

The fact that Carol didn’t want him dead was probably his blessing that he hadn’t lost his head right now. That he was still alive, even with the air being withheld from him. He also knew that Carol’s reasoning was that he had to live with the horrors much as she had to do. And she was right, because each time he looked at Terry…

His eye sight started to darken, knew that he was getting close to passing out. Bucky’s promise washing over him. He would be his nightmare, would make sure that each and every dupe he would come across wouldn’t survive the encounter.

“You… can’t.” He wheezed. And then he slammed his hand onto the ground. A dupe emerged, who repeated the process until there were at least a dozen of dupes standing in the alley. They all looked at Bucky, and then charged.
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09-15-2019
09:17 AM
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09-15-2019, 09:17 AM
[In-Character] [Post #8]
Bucky growled when the line of dupes appeared in front of them. He squeezed harder, then, as the form in his hold went limp, pulled him back so he’d land on his back with the back of his skull suffering considerable impact when hitting the ground. Out cold for now, he left Madrox on the ground just as the dozen of dupes charged. Knife in one hand, Bucky drew one of the guns he carried. He knew that once he fired it, there would not be much time left for him to get out of here.

Gunshots usually alerted unwanted attention.

And yet, he fired. Three pops in quick succession. Head shots. Precise and right to the forehead. Then he, too, pushed forward. The forth went down with a slid throat. He greeted the fifth with a blow to the abdominal region. From there on out, it became interesting.

Bucky sustained several blows. To the jaw, to his stomach, to the sternum. His physique, however, was far superior to that of Jamie Madrox. The only blow that created some noteable damage was one of the last attacking with a broken bottle. The slash across his cheek and lower abdomen however healed within minutes.

He gripped the man by the collar, dragged him across the heap of dead dupes towards the original. He forced the copy onto his knees in front of Madrox.

Bucky waited. Madox would see the fates of his dupes within moments.

He held the last one, barely alive, by the crown of his hair. “You know what your dupe is seeing right now?” he asked, his voice low, soft as silk. “He sees the man who’s responsible for his death.” Bucky reached around, pushed the blade to the dupe’s throat and applied just enough pressure as he drew the knife back. It was a swift, quiet, oddly elegant kind of manoeuver. What would come to Madrox was the image of himself.

“You create a monster … and you call it a fluke as if that excuses it. You run, you little cock sucker.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, then he pushed his mask back in place. “He killed countless. He entrapped them, tortured them. Thor. Emma Frost. Beth Silvercloud. Eva Coleman. Kate Bishop. Nathan and Jenna Coleman. Benji Richards. But you know all these names.” He paused, then continued with the same low but incredibly pleasant voice. “Me. My wife. The list is endless.”

Bucky stood, posing quite an image in the midst of Jamie’s dead duplicates. “I will hunt them. I will kill them. I will be in the shadows somewhere, ready to slit their throats, to break their necks. And they will see me. Every. Time. They will know who killed them. So you will know …” His eyes were cold in contrast to the sound of his voice.

“Until you take responsibility …”
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09-15-2019
01:25 PM
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09-15-2019, 01:25 PM
[In-Character] [Post #9]
Jamie lost conscious; pain blossomed in the back of his head but that wouldn’t be noticed until he woke up. If he woke up. Memories assaulted him, visions of Barnes working his way through the dozen dupes he had created. It was enough to jolt him back to consciousness, but his movements were sluggish, his head hurting.

His gaze fell on the pile of dead dupes and he felt like weeping. They had been an extension of him, only trying to help, and he couldn’t absorb them back. They were dead. And he couldn’t take them back if they were dead.

For a short moment he wondered if this had been the smart move. He had acted out of survival, and Barnes had mowed them down like they were nothing. He would keep doing that until there would only be Jamie left. And then? How long after that would he decide that Jamie should stop exist?

He watched Barnes coming towards him, a half-dead dupe being dragged with and then forced to sit on his knees in front of Jamie. Blinking a few times, he looked from the dupe to the dead pile of dupes and then to Barnes. The latter spoke, asking if he knew what his dupe was seeing right now. Jamie didn’t need to answer. He could see it on the dupe’s face. His own face for all intent and purpose.

Jamie gasped, the memory of his throat being slit pushing into his mind, the most disturbing thing him watching it happen. Tears pushed at his eyes, and he blinked them away. His hand came to his own throat, the feeling a ghost.

This was madness, he couldn’t outrun Barnes. Would always be a target for something that had been out of his hands. Barnes much as told him so. Made him hear the names of Lang’s victims but that list was so much longer. Jamie knew all of them, remembered all of them and what had been done to them. He had Lang’s complete life in his head, all his plans, all his ideas… The things that man had thought up, it gave him nightmares.

His gaze fell on Bucky, hearing the man say that he would keep killing his dupes until Jamie took responsibility.

He stood then, his gaze falling on the pile of dead men. “You’re insane.” He whispered. “Screw you, Barnes.” He added, turning around and within seconds more of his dupes had appeared, enough to fill the alley and give him a chance to walk away without getting stabbed in the back. It wasn’t fair to them, because he would slaughter them all.

He felt guilty, but he had made Terry a promise. To stay alive.
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09-20-2019
08:06 AM
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09-20-2019, 08:06 AM
[In-Character] [Post #10]
Insanity. Now here was an interesting concept, especially when coming from this man. “You’ve done that, remember?” he growled under his breath then leaped upward. Hoisting himself up towards a fire escape, Bucky dropped into a sprint the moment his feet hit solid ground. As the escape turned, headed upwards, he jumped. Arms outstretched, reaching for the next ledge ahead of him. He pushed forward, hitting the ground running literally – ahead of Madrox.

The original now stood between Bucky and the army of duplicates. “We’re not done here.” Bucky’s voice was dark, full of venom as he once more bridged the distance. His motions were swift, fast – worthy of a man carrying the super soldier gene. A diagonally driven uppercut to spin Madrox on his axis and turn him around to face the same direction as Bucky. Then the tip of the nice once more pushed against Madrox’s throat.

“Like lambs to the slaughter,” he growled as he stared ahead at the men that were the spitting image of the man right in front of him. "I want to kill you. Not just the dupes,” he began as his gaze wandered across the duplicates. One of them shifted forward. In response, the tip of Bucky’s blade drew a trickle of red from Jamie’s skin.

“The copies you create … they all carry the depravity and deranged sickness you are too much of a coward to admit you possess." All spoken in a whisper. "She,” Carol, “killed the tumour... but I want to cut out the cells that let it grow. The root of it all.

“He raped, her you sick son of a bitch.” Bucky could not stop the images in his mind from being dredged up. “The mother of my child... A child that came back from another time and universe because her life was full of the pain your copy brought over us.” Bucky paused, wondering whether his words would ever penetrate this man’s thick skull. Would he ever agree that it was impossible to shake responsibility for one’s creations?

“Can you feel just how far this goes?” he asked. “And you let it happen,” Bucky paused, then repeated. “You. Let. It. Happen. And I want to see you suffer for it. I want you to carry the weight that she feels every time we try to be together now. What he's taken from her. From us. From our daughter. You don't deserve to live. You don't deserve a champion.. You’re a sick excuse for a human. A waste of space. And the only reason you're still breathing is Carol telling me that she doesn't want you dead... The woman who suffered the most by what you allowed to happen...it's her mercy.” Bucky let that sit for a moment before he continued.

“And don't mistake my heeding her wishes for weakness. I'll kill you the moment I get the chance to and you won't see me coming."

Bucky pulled his blade back, its tip nicking Madrox’s skin just enough to cause a messy wound but not deal serious damage. He stepped back and as he did so, he pushed the original into the group of his duplicates. If thinking and feeling like this made him insane, Bucky figured, then he would gladly put on that straight jacket. But only after someone put this man’s body at his feet.
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