(August Catch-All) The Things We Do

[unclesam]

CHARACTERS: Sam Wilson & You (Open + Closed Starters)
LOCATION: Various aboard the station
DATE: Immediately post mission + the days after.
CONTENT: Catch-all prompts for post mission feelings
WARNINGS: Will be added to Top Levels

[ Top Levels in comments:
Infirmary: angsty hurt people after returning from the mission
Mess Hall: the evening post mission, after the food delivery, alcohol is on the table
Simulation Room: the day after the mission, sam disappears and can be found zoned out in the simulation room
Training Room: hot dude working up a sweat while training, various days post mission
Lab and Tech Storage: redwing is the best boi, fight me (and Sam)
TBA: maybe closed starters for Bucky/Natasha?

If you'd like a closed starter or have a different kind of thread idea for which none of these setups work, feel free to hit me at inkcharm, Discord inkcharm#4573 or send me a PM. ]

Comments

[scarcastically]

[ erik gives a little snort. ]

That barely constitutes as poison, Wilson. Pick somethin' harder.

[unclesam]

Ain't inviting you to my luxury billion-star bar if you gonna slander french quarter drinks, man. [ Sam flashes a quick grin, though. ] I mean, I got harder. Only thing is we'd have to carry you out on a stretcher.

[ Did someone ask for Asgardian Ale for Bucky?

Very possible. He's still astonished that it worked. ]

[scarcastically]

Yeah? What'd you spring for?

[ erik's not much of a drinker, but he needs hard liquors. he puts his body through too much to be into the weaker stuff. ]

[unclesam]

You ever hear of Asgardian Ale? I'd recommend just going for the entire absinthe bottle over messing with that stuff, though.

[ No, seriously. ]

As the name implies, stuff's made for people with different metabolisms.

[scarcastically]

Then I'll pass. I've got no interest in stuff like that.

[ he's fine being human and being grounded that way. aliens and galactic cultures don't hold much sway for him. besides, he's always preferred fantasy to sci-fi in general. ]

[unclesam]

Good choice.

[ Sam taps a glass. ]

So, what're you having, man? If you're passing on the good nola mixes, how 'bout some of that rye whiskey or bourbon. Neat?

[scarcastically]

[ erik swipes some of his dreads back. ]

Fine. Bourbon neat, it is.

[unclesam]

[ Sam grabs the right glasses, setting them down on the table and pouring them each a generous 2 ounces for starters. ]

What're we raising a glass to?

[ He sets the bottle to the side, but within reach, regarding Erik. His call. ]

[scarcastically]

[ erik dangles the glass between his fingers. ]

Mission accomplished, I guess. Though the mood's not all that cheery.

[ not that erik cares, but he's not that much of a sociopath. people deserve space to grieve. to resent. he's just overly pragmatic when it comes to life. he's taken plenty and there are new scars under his clothes. ]

[unclesam]

[ The corner of Sam's lips tugs upwards, but it's not really a smile, just a very wry expression that betrays the way his eyes harden on the middle distance for a moment or two. ]

Shoulda held off on grabbing the orb till we were actually finished down there. We did a lotta good for those people. Coulda done some more, given the girl some more time with her people, helped fix some of the shit that got wrecked on the way back. Mission accomplished - with some stumbling.

[ He taps the glass on the bar, shrugs a shoulder. Sam's not horrifically upset about the things that happened - but they pulled away too fast, and that doesn't sit quite right with him. ]

[scarcastically]

[ erik doesn't point out that this is basically the avenger's mo to a t. immediate solutions and then they're whisked off. but technically he's said that already and it'd be too much to belabour the point. especially since they had no real control over the outcome. ]

The station was never gonna do that.

[ the orb was their priority. always was. short of a coup (and that could pan out badly. he ran the numbers) the AI here aren't putting people as their priority. after all, solving regrets doesn't come for free. ]

It's a war tour. You get in, do what they expect and you're pulled out. That's not gonna change any time soon.

[unclesam]

[ Sam knows - still, it's probably for the better. Sam would have no patience to go over the talking points again. The Avengers didn't do better in the best, and therefore Sam trying to do things differently is dismissed and condemned from the start. This is the fight he agreed to take on, though - for people who look like John Walker to deem him never good enough, and for people who look like Erik to dismiss him as having failed before he started.

He bears it, and keeps fighting. ]

You serve?

[ Not surprising, all things considered - black orphan kid from oakland would have gone to schools targeted by recruiters. Those same promises had pulled Sam towards the Air Force, too.]

[scarcastically]

[ it's not the promises that mattered. erik was smart. he went to mit. he was one of the youngest graduates around. sure, he's not tony stark . . . but who wanted to be? but what erik needed was leveraging power. strength. mobility. the army had all of that.

more importantly, erik needed to be dehumanized so he could kill. and kill easily. ]

NAVY Seal.

[unclesam]

[ Sam's path had started the other way around. College wasn't in the cards until after he'd left the Air Force. At least his time there had shaped what he wanted to do with a degree. Another career in service of people in need. ' So Others May Live' never quite left Sam. He gives Erik a nod. Acknowledgment where it's due ]

Pararescue.

[ Shaped for the opposite purpose. It's what contrasts him against Walker, against Erik - even against Steve. While perfectly, highly capable, Sam was always made for the rescue more than the fight. ]

[scarcastically]

[ it is very hard not to roll his eyes. though it makes sense that wilson would say that and not assume erik already knows about his pararescue roots. the exo-falcon unit was experimental and short-lived, but well known in military-grade circles. and erik has some of the highest clearance in the world, being CIA black ops.

but he can't help a jab. ]

Never would have guessed. Though you were a bird mascot.

[unclesam]

[ An eyeroll, but not exactly an annoyed one. Always with the bird jokes - at least he knows he's decidedly the coolest bird themed superhero out there. No offense, Clint. ]

Rich, coming from Sylvester the cat.

[ Sam grins though, keeps it light. ]

[scarcastically]

Oof. You've really dated yourself there. Guess the shield's not the only old thing around.

[unclesam]

Fine wine and all that, man.

[ Skipped a couple years in there, too, but he doesn't need to get into that. ]

Besides, men outta time and thousand year old aliens kinda make all that very relative anyway. Or were you hoping I'd huff and puff, and grumble about you needing to get off my lawn?

[scarcastically]

Nah. Not interested in that wheelhouse anyway.

[ time-travel, aliens,,, they're big issues sure. but erik hates how much it eclipses everything. and lets the things that plague the world slip through the cracks.

but he knows that's not a discussion sam can handle. it's a fight not worth picking. ]

But it explains a few things.

[unclesam]

[ Erik would be surprised. But remaining out of context is his choice. Sam's offered, but doesn't see much use in providing that context against protestations when it seems obvious that for the time being, Erik's closed his mind around a perspective that's decidedly not unfounded but lacking, like a bear trap.

These days, aliens go hand in hand with what else plagues the world, the ripple effects going down right to the very people and communities that have always been left behind. Sam's living that, and Erik doesn't know about it. There's people who cling to their ideologies with zealous fervor, refusing to parse new information. He can harp about needing to see change, but Sam sees the way Erik's turning away from the view. Can't fully blame him, but won't take shit for deliberate ignorance either. ]

I'm sure you believe that.

[ He sees the bait, and has no interest in picking it. Instead he takes a sip of his drink, and keeps his tone light. ]

Would you prefer a Tom and Jerry reference over Looney Tunes?

[scarcastically]

And I'm sure I'll find out. On my terms.

[ it's not his world anymore anyway. why deepen the rift? at some point, erik knows he has to let it go. it's tough, releasing your hold inch by inch. his story is over.

at any rate, whatever context sam thinks is universal will always be tailored to him. sam's a player. context is for kings. if erik had to hear it from anyone, there's only one person he'd want to hear it from. ]

And what's this fixation with cartoons?

[unclesam]

[ Sam shrugs his shoulder, rolls back into the topic of bad quips and nicknames easily. ]

I could make a musical reference instead, but that ain't really my scene. Dr. Seuss maybe? Sports mascots? I don't know, guess cartoons were the first thing come to mind for prodding at the cat costume. Oh, how 'bout Jungle Book? We can pretend it's a literature reference instead of Disney.

[ And he's not about to make a damn Pokémon reference that reveals he's listening more than he lets on when AJ and Cass talks his ear off about virtual critters. ]

[scarcastically]

[ this is a very weird way to bond. if it can be called that. erik's still not sure if that's what happening here or sam's still trying to get under his guards and dismantle him as a potential threat. ]

Do you need to write these down so you can say them in battle?

[unclesam]

[ Man who has probably never had a genuinely friendly conversation without an edge in his life, meet man who is determined to make a pleasant conversation happen at least once between them. At least for like 30 seconds.

Bonding is go - for the time being at least. ]

Aw, don't worry. I'm sure I'm gonna come up with half a dozen more while flying circles around you. But nah - afraid I ain't quite so geriatric that I gotta worry about memory issues.

[scarcastically]

[ erik rolls his eyes. only superheroes would boast about their quips on a battlefield. ]

Buddy, I was a Navy SEAL. We're made a little harder than a fly boy.