"Yeah, probably after that president," he shrugged, had looked it up out of curiosity one night. "One of history's worst." Fucked everything up leading into the Civil War. It had been an odd choice, but it wasn't like he could ask his parents for a reason. He hoped it was at least a family name. Maybe he was somehow distantly related to the presidential failure. Maybe screwing things up was in his blood, but at least he wasn't causing a war.
Blowing absently on the steaming mug, Bucky tested the temperature again before taking another sip. The sweetness overwhelmed the more subtle flavor of the tea, but he wasn't really a connoisseur to tell much of a difference. It was good, it was warm, and the scent was relaxing.
Her question was met with silence, eyes going back to the statuettes as if they had some sort of answer. He hadn't forgotten his purpose for coming as much as he'd been trying to avoid it, glad she had at least waited until he was more settled in before bringing the obvious up. There were many things wrong with him, and he simply had no idea where to start. "Dunno," he sighed. "Friend said I should."