The thing about Bucky that a lot of people would never know was that at one time he had been a carefree, fun-loving young man who strove to always have a good time no matter what he was doing. He liked being around people and wasn't afraid to be silly or make others laugh at the expense of himself. But sometimes, most times these days, Bucky had a harder time reaching in and finding that person. It was a little easier around Steve. He still got to see it more than anyone else. Sam was often on the receiving end of his humor in the form of witty jabs and clever retorts. The children who lived near the hut he'd been inhabiting in Wakanda got to see a softer side of him. It was there. All of who he used to be was still in him. There was just a barrier around it, guarded by cynicism, fear, guilt, and a whole dumpster full of defense mechanisms that were known to spike around his heart at any given moment.
In other words, being at a Heroes Comic Con wasn't exactly the place where Bucky was going to open up and let himself go. Much as he was curious, he was also confused and nervous. "What?" He asked, and looked at the box of treats he'd been offered. "I've been to the Stark Expo," he said. "But that was more than seventy years ago. Bit different. A lot less skin showing. No brightly colored wigs. No one had wings." Plenty of dames grabbing onto him for attention; that was a similarity, but not one he necessarily wanted to bring up. "Thanks," he said, and took one of the sweets; Pocky, he'd called it.
"Well, that's not bad," he said after taking a bite. "Is soap an anomaly at .. cons?"