[Before Arthur came to Massachusetts, he was in England. He has experienced earthquakes before, but nothing to this extent, but - well, reflex has always been faster for him than common sense. And running through a rumbling building dead blind is perfectly familiar to him.

To his credit, he actually makes it outside, and even does so before the tremor actually stops. But then he's just- on his lawn, in his pyjamas, struggling - and quickly failing to stay upright.

Luckily he didn't get turned around, but when the silence settles - and it's fucking eerie, the pervasive calm before a fucked up storm - he stumbles slightly as he manages to get back to his feet.]

What the fuck was that?

[The aftershock does nothing to settle his mind later on, but at least nothing else breaks during it, and it does give him a few things he wants to look up later.

He doesn't think anything of it when he leaves his house around lunchtime, to go and grab something to eat before he goes by the library - and then something with claws slams into his shoulder and he staggers hard.]

Fuck- what--?

[Not that he gets to say much more before another one slams into him and he trips and hits the ground, and immediately something tangles in his hair, yanking his half-styled curls and almost ripping skin clear off him - and when he tries to stand another one gets his face and at that point he gives up and hunkers down because where the fuck can he go, he doesn't even know if he's still on the footpath and the only reason he has his cane is because it's strapped to him, and he grabs it in one hand and tries to cover as much of his head as he can as he tries to literally beat back the sound of flurrying feathers with a fucking stick.]

Jesus- fuck off! Get off me!!

[Around the 6th of March, Arthur and Bucky are taking a road trip: more prompts when info becomes available!]