A cold floor is not one step anywhere near cryogenesis. Does Zemo even know anything about cryo? God.
"I don't know." Maybe Zemo made a weird bet while he was drunk and staggering around in Vegas. Maybe there was something in the Swiss cheese that he insisted is better than the American plastic stuff he can get. Well, you know what's good about American plastic stuff masquerading as cheese? It doesn't castrate you and grow you a pair of tits overnight.
"How should I know? I only woke up with a metal arm once that weighed like a suitcase of bricks and that was eighty years ago. I was drugged to all hell. He didn't-- cut anything off or stick anything on." Well, beyond amputating the rest of his left arm. Because those are just glued on hair extensions, clearly. Bucky would have taken it much more poorly than Zemo's taking it, that's for sure. But would he be even more miserable than he is now? That's probably not possible.
Bucky crosses his arms defensively, unconsciously mirroring Zemo's posture, tearing his gaze away from that questioning look. It's true, this house is all sausage and beans, but honestly, he's used to that. Who knew that the easy way to get some tenderness out of the soldier was to simply wake up as a woman one day?
"I don't know what you're talking about. You're being weird." Stealing a side-eye at Zemo, his eyes go straight for the tits again before lifting to meet Zemo's gaze, and then Bucky resumes staring as the scowl starts to fall from his face.
"I'll bring you up breakfast, unless you want to explain this to Oeznik. The bed's probably still warm, if you want to sit down."
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"I don't know." Maybe Zemo made a weird bet while he was drunk and staggering around in Vegas. Maybe there was something in the Swiss cheese that he insisted is better than the American plastic stuff he can get. Well, you know what's good about American plastic stuff masquerading as cheese? It doesn't castrate you and grow you a pair of tits overnight.
"How should I know? I only woke up with a metal arm once that weighed like a suitcase of bricks and that was eighty years ago. I was drugged to all hell. He didn't-- cut anything off or stick anything on." Well, beyond amputating the rest of his left arm. Because those are just glued on hair extensions, clearly. Bucky would have taken it much more poorly than Zemo's taking it, that's for sure. But would he be even more miserable than he is now? That's probably not possible.
Bucky crosses his arms defensively, unconsciously mirroring Zemo's posture, tearing his gaze away from that questioning look. It's true, this house is all sausage and beans, but honestly, he's used to that. Who knew that the easy way to get some tenderness out of the soldier was to simply wake up as a woman one day?
"I don't know what you're talking about. You're being weird." Stealing a side-eye at Zemo, his eyes go straight for the tits again before lifting to meet Zemo's gaze, and then Bucky resumes staring as the scowl starts to fall from his face.
"I'll bring you up breakfast, unless you want to explain this to Oeznik. The bed's probably still warm, if you want to sit down."