He snorts in answer, idly musing over the possibility that Steve just gave him shit for getting himself caught like a goddamn idiot. That's fair though, he's not so easily offended and he accepts the ribbing with an amused and world-weary grace. Look who else is in prison, pal, and keep talking, he wants to say, but they're not quite on that level yet. He doesn't know Steve's temperament well enough to fire back, and his dry attitude's gotten him into more than one fight since his stay began.
Steve's fear of his SS tendencies can be assuaged when Bucky leads him into the rec room, pretty well-populated with card tables and a t.v. at the back end. They actually enter this one, because it's not a landmark like the Library so much as entire social environment that warrants being broken down.
He gestures vaguely to the various groups dispersed about the place, obviously broken up into factions over interests. It's not a maximum or even medium security joint though, so there's no real tension and many people intersperse with one another like you might expect from a half-decent reasonable community.
"Television's got one remote and one person's in charge of it a day on a rotating schedule. When it's your turn and it turns four, don't try and switch off Ellen or Pumba will stab you in your sleep," He gestures to the back of a bald man with more rolls on his neck than any human ought to have. Pumba raises a hand in an OK gesture to acknowledge them but doesn't peel his eyes away from Mrs. Degeneres even for a second. He moves on briskly, "Our group gets the card table on Tuesdays for poker, we play for smokes even though they're contraband, but the guards don't care unless you piss 'em off, so don't piss 'em off. If you don't smoke, well, nobody's asking you to start, but it's a two-stick minimum to play either way."
And then a point over to the corner of the room, where the actual nazis are.
"Those are the skin-heads, and unless you plan on adopting a swastika tattoo above your eyebrow you'd better just leave the crazy bastards alone. They usually keep to themselves." He leans in a couple inches from Steve's ear to conspiratorially mutter, "They're not actually all that devout, they're mostly just rednecks in for meth charges, not actual Klan-type effigy shit. They get real defensive, though, if you call them out on it. One time they tried to fight a black guy in the hall and I think six teeth fell out."
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Steve's fear of his SS tendencies can be assuaged when Bucky leads him into the rec room, pretty well-populated with card tables and a t.v. at the back end. They actually enter this one, because it's not a landmark like the Library so much as entire social environment that warrants being broken down.
He gestures vaguely to the various groups dispersed about the place, obviously broken up into factions over interests. It's not a maximum or even medium security joint though, so there's no real tension and many people intersperse with one another like you might expect from a half-decent reasonable community.
"Television's got one remote and one person's in charge of it a day on a rotating schedule. When it's your turn and it turns four, don't try and switch off Ellen or Pumba will stab you in your sleep," He gestures to the back of a bald man with more rolls on his neck than any human ought to have. Pumba raises a hand in an OK gesture to acknowledge them but doesn't peel his eyes away from Mrs. Degeneres even for a second. He moves on briskly, "Our group gets the card table on Tuesdays for poker, we play for smokes even though they're contraband, but the guards don't care unless you piss 'em off, so don't piss 'em off. If you don't smoke, well, nobody's asking you to start, but it's a two-stick minimum to play either way."
And then a point over to the corner of the room, where the actual nazis are.
"Those are the skin-heads, and unless you plan on adopting a swastika tattoo above your eyebrow you'd better just leave the crazy bastards alone. They usually keep to themselves." He leans in a couple inches from Steve's ear to conspiratorially mutter, "They're not actually all that devout, they're mostly just rednecks in for meth charges, not actual Klan-type effigy shit. They get real defensive, though, if you call them out on it. One time they tried to fight a black guy in the hall and I think six teeth fell out."