![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2fIh0bC:danceswchopstck replied to your post “*whispers* I too love your epics. I was actually re reading Face Built…”
Yay that finishing Facepunch is still gonna happen! :)
Chapter 19 is really… scraps, it’s like 2500 words long. I don’t know. But I have a really great epilogue mostly written, and then I have 10k of a wrapup of the Bucky&/Peggy friendship/more arc that I started with Even More So that hinges on Facepunch being done before I can post it. So.
I really do have a big incentive to finish it. And if I hadn’t hated literally everything the MCU has done since Winter Soldier, I probably would have reprioritized it at some point, but I’m not holding my breath for a movie to give me anything I want anymore.
It’s still technically in-progress, though. For sure.
(And then I have at least 10k of Full of Grace written that’s just waiting for a dumb bridge scene, so.)
Bucky surfaced with a leisurely few strokes, enjoying his relative buoyancy. He’d gotten the hang of picking out the details of his body in the virtual reality; Steve had asked him to come as biological as possible, so he’d reverted himself as close as he could to his pre-Winter Soldier appearance. Which meant a little less muscle, but a human left arm, and he was getting good enough at this that he could remember details like the freckle on his left forearm and the scar on his left thumb.
Another perk of Tony’s revamp of the virtual reality system was that the pool was no longer freezing fucking cold. It wasn’t warm, exactly, but it was a pretty comfortable landing. Bucky rolled over and did a backstroke, enjoying the way everything felt totally fucking normal from his left side. His current prosthesis was pretty sweet, but sometimes it was nice to just… be human.
Since you could jack in so easily now, it wasn’t at all something to dread. He’d figured his memories’ overwhelming unpleasantness would mean he never grew to like this place, but after only two or three sessions, mostly with Natasha, he found himself looking forward to it. It was incredible to get those memories back, all those false days, chunks of a lifetime spent in here with Natasha, conspiring against those who held them. It must have all been over a short period of time in the real world, before they realized the two of them were perhaps too effective together, but in their memories in here, it stretched out in weeks, months, intermittent years.
“C’mon, lazybones,” Steve said from the edge of the pool, his deep voice reverberating off all the hard tile. “Just because Tony made the pool comfortable doesn’t mean that’s all we’re doin’ here!”
(see it uses the Facepunch VR environment and the stuff I reveal about it in the epilogue so I can’t post it until I finish Facepunch.)
Yay that finishing Facepunch is still gonna happen! :)
Chapter 19 is really… scraps, it’s like 2500 words long. I don’t know. But I have a really great epilogue mostly written, and then I have 10k of a wrapup of the Bucky&/Peggy friendship/more arc that I started with Even More So that hinges on Facepunch being done before I can post it. So.
I really do have a big incentive to finish it. And if I hadn’t hated literally everything the MCU has done since Winter Soldier, I probably would have reprioritized it at some point, but I’m not holding my breath for a movie to give me anything I want anymore.
It’s still technically in-progress, though. For sure.
(And then I have at least 10k of Full of Grace written that’s just waiting for a dumb bridge scene, so.)
Bucky surfaced with a leisurely few strokes, enjoying his relative buoyancy. He’d gotten the hang of picking out the details of his body in the virtual reality; Steve had asked him to come as biological as possible, so he’d reverted himself as close as he could to his pre-Winter Soldier appearance. Which meant a little less muscle, but a human left arm, and he was getting good enough at this that he could remember details like the freckle on his left forearm and the scar on his left thumb.
Another perk of Tony’s revamp of the virtual reality system was that the pool was no longer freezing fucking cold. It wasn’t warm, exactly, but it was a pretty comfortable landing. Bucky rolled over and did a backstroke, enjoying the way everything felt totally fucking normal from his left side. His current prosthesis was pretty sweet, but sometimes it was nice to just… be human.
Since you could jack in so easily now, it wasn’t at all something to dread. He’d figured his memories’ overwhelming unpleasantness would mean he never grew to like this place, but after only two or three sessions, mostly with Natasha, he found himself looking forward to it. It was incredible to get those memories back, all those false days, chunks of a lifetime spent in here with Natasha, conspiring against those who held them. It must have all been over a short period of time in the real world, before they realized the two of them were perhaps too effective together, but in their memories in here, it stretched out in weeks, months, intermittent years.
“C’mon, lazybones,” Steve said from the edge of the pool, his deep voice reverberating off all the hard tile. “Just because Tony made the pool comfortable doesn’t mean that’s all we’re doin’ here!”
(see it uses the Facepunch VR environment and the stuff I reveal about it in the epilogue so I can’t post it until I finish Facepunch.)
