"I don't remember what they look like. I got beat up a lot. After a while all bullies start to look the same." Steve dismisses it with a wave of his hand, though for a brief moment--as though he couldn't help but remembering--there's the alley and the trash can lid sitting at their feet like a discarded shield. Steve's nose is bleeding, he's got a black eye. But there's a yell and a holler from the alley entrance.
"Hey, punk! What'd I tell ya about hanging out back here?" There's worry in the man's voice, and as soon as he trots over he gives Harrow a once over. "You're bringin' tourists home now Stevie?" He extents a hand immediately. "James Barnes. You can call me Bucky."
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Date: 2016-01-31 02:40 am (UTC)"Hey, punk! What'd I tell ya about hanging out back here?" There's worry in the man's voice, and as soon as he trots over he gives Harrow a once over. "You're bringin' tourists home now Stevie?" He extents a hand immediately. "James Barnes. You can call me Bucky."
"Or Jerk."
"Stuff it, Rogers."