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Wednesday: What?

Hello again, prompters! I'm nevcolleil, your guest host for this week. Today's theme is Malapropisms - words used incorrectly in place of words with a similar sound.

The rules:

♥ No more than five prompts in a row.

♥ No more than three prompts in the same fandom.

♥ No spoilers in prompts.

If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.

Prompts should be formatted as follows:

Fandom, Character+/Character, Prompt

A few examples...

+ any, any, "I could care less." "Uh... you know that means you do care a little, right?"

+ Castle/Psych, any, Shawn and Castle start a "funny malaprop" war

+ Grimm, Nick +or/ Monroe, translating German into English incorrectly with disastrous/hilarious results

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Visit the lonely prompt archive and brighten someone’s day. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.

Comments

vanillafluffy
Sep. 25th, 2014 06:48 pm (UTC)
Fill -- Linguistics
Finding the Winter Soldier is easy. Barely a week after the Battle Over the Potomac, he’s sitting on a park bench in Brooklyn, gazing across the Hudson. Though he wears an old fatigue jacket and has a heavy growth of beard, Steve knows him.

“Wait here," he tells Sam. " Two of us might spook him.” He saunters over, sitting at the far end of the bench. The Winter Solder glances over at him. Focuses. Mutters something—it isn’t English—but doesn’t challenge him. He looks unkempt and seems dazed, not at all the hyper-alert killing machine who’d caused so much destruction in D.C..

Steve tells him it’s okay, that Steve is grateful to him for the rescue, and he wants to help. He’s quietly earnest, and after a while, the Soldier asks him, “Please, some—?” The subject isn’t a word Steve knows.

“I don’t understand.” At Steve’s obvious non-comprehension, the other man pantomimes eating.

“Food?”

“Da, food.”

“Sure. I’m Steve, by the way.” Starting at Square One seems to be the way to go. “This is my friend Sam,” he adds, when they walk past and Wilson falls in.

Sam doesn’t crowd him, just offers a calm, “How you doing?”

“C’est bonne.”

They take a cab to Stark Towers. Within the hour, their guest has consumed two ham sandwiches, four cups of coffee and a huge wedge of pie. Finally, the Winter Soldier gives a satisfied belch, and says something that sounds grateful.

Sam replies and translates for Steve—apparently they’ve both know some Arabic. Steve nods and offers him a shower. Soap and water and fresh clothes must sound pretty good, because the Soldier accepts with, “Molto grazie.”

“What the hell?” Steve asks, while his former friend showers.

“I don’t know,” Sam responds. “Maybe some kind of head trauma? Might want to have a doctor look him over.”

Which is a sensible suggestion. Steve calls and explains to Banner what’s going on, and gets an okay to drop in. The Winter Soldier isn’t enthusiastic at the prospect of anything medical. When they enter Banner’s lab, he stops in his tracks.

Sam’s Arabic isn’t up to terminology like “CAT-scan” or “blood tests”. The patient isn’t following it in English. From his reaction, he’s on the verge of bolting when Banner comes to the rescue, addressing him in Hindustani. The Soldier relaxes slightly and allows a scan. It shows old, healed injuries, but nothing to explain the current problem.

Fifty-plus years and who knows how many missions, to who knows what ends of the earth. This is the result—a man on his native soil struggling and failing to speak his mother tongue. Steve won’t let himself think of this guy as Bucky, not even now that he’s shaved off the stubble and slicked back his hair, because he’s so obviously not. Still, he’s someone who needs help.

While Banner analyzes the blood samples, Steve and Sam take their guest to the gym. Natasha, doing barre work, spots the Winter Soldier, does a dive-and-roll and springs up, ready for battle.

“You fight good,” he says to her haltingly. “Not today. Maybe not—” More non-English. Natasha seems to have followed it, and a brief exchange ensues.

As the Winter Soldier demonstrates expertise on parallel bars, Steve asks her what was up.

“My Estonian’s a little rusty,” Natasha admits, “but he said he doesn’t want to fight any more. I told him we’re all friends here. Either that or I asked if his goose was wearing shoes.”

Doing a one-armed maneuver, the Winter Soldier’s right hand slips. He crashes to the mats and comes up swearing at length, in English and otherwise. Natasha snaps something about matroshka—Steve’s fairly sure it’s the Russian equivalent of “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

The Winter Soldier looks abashed. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Banner has test results for them by the time the Soldier has done a circuit of the weight machines.

“Linguistic aphasia,” Banner pronounces. “As opposed to simple aphasia. I can’t tell what, exactly, they were dosing him with, but his tests read like he’s detoxing from something. It may be interfering with his language processing center.”

“Is it permanent?”

“I wish I knew,” Banner says and translates it for the Winter Soldier who sighs and meets Steve’s eyes. He gives a little shrug, a universal “Who knows?”

Steve returns the gesture. They’re both at a loss for words.
.
tigriswolf
Sep. 26th, 2014 03:20 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill -- Linguistics

Aww, Bucky. *sniffles*

Thank you!
scribble_myname
Dec. 9th, 2014 04:23 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill -- Linguistics
Oh. I love this. :sniffs:
vanillafluffy
Dec. 9th, 2014 05:50 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill -- Linguistics
Thank you!

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