Sam Wilson (
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote in
driftfleet2018-04-15 01:57 pm
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Who: Sam Wilson (AU) and you!
Broadcast: n/a
Action: on the SS Bishop, around the Iskaulit
When: now and throughout the week
The SS Bishop
[ Sam'd barely woken up on the Marsiva before he'd found himself whisked away again, and honestly, he's not even surprised. Figures that he wouldn't have enough time to start to get his bearings before he's inexplicably brought somewhere completely new again; that's kind of par for the course of his life the last few years.
He can't even bring himself to be mad about the implant that he can feel just behind his left ear, the one he's guessing is responsible for the sudden influx of knowledge twisting around in his head. It's not like it's the first time that's happened, and at least it's a hell of a lot less invasive than what the Capitol'd done. There's a part of him that's aware that he's probably just deflecting, trying to focus on anything else to keep himself from going down that path, but he doesn't really care right now.
It's hard to keep himself from panicking, more because he's alone and he struggles with self regulation these days than anything else, but he's doing his best.
Mostly that means he's turned all his attention to exploring the ship he's ended up on. He can be found in the armory poking at weapons he doesn't fully understand, as well as helping himself to the sidearm he can make sense of; in the kitchen rooting around in the pantry and fiddling with the machines he's pretty sure make more sense than they should; or roaming the hallways, eyes flashing red and pupils dilating as he scans the walls like they've got secrets he can discover if he only looks long enough. ]
around Iskaulit
[ Most of him doesn't really believe this is the Capitol, not after the way the war'd gone, but there's always the chance that Snow or someone else had some kind of messed up last resort plan, and this is it.
It's enough to make him paranoid about, well, just about everything. He's not sure he really expects to find any more answers on board the Iskaulit than he did on the Bishop. But at least it's bigger, and eases some of the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped in addition to giving him more places to explore.
The garden... honestly just makes things worse, at the moment, and Sam isn't there very long before his wings start to itch under his skin. He'd wanted soothing, but instead he finds himself getting a little more agitated, and he takes off to the gym to get some of the violence out of his system. Sam turns his attention to one of the punching bags built for enhanced strength, going not quite full out against it, but pretty close. He'll slow down at the arrival of anyone else, clearly wary and uncertain though he musters up something like a smile and a casual "hey" in greeting.
Eventually he makes his way to both Malum and the Space Bar, less out of a desire to drink and more out of falling back on the habits he'd had while in the Capitol. It's a little different when there's not a crowd of Capitolites to disappear into, but he slides into a seat anyway with a nod in greeting for anyone who makes eye contact. ]
Broadcast: n/a
Action: on the SS Bishop, around the Iskaulit
When: now and throughout the week
The SS Bishop
[ Sam'd barely woken up on the Marsiva before he'd found himself whisked away again, and honestly, he's not even surprised. Figures that he wouldn't have enough time to start to get his bearings before he's inexplicably brought somewhere completely new again; that's kind of par for the course of his life the last few years.
He can't even bring himself to be mad about the implant that he can feel just behind his left ear, the one he's guessing is responsible for the sudden influx of knowledge twisting around in his head. It's not like it's the first time that's happened, and at least it's a hell of a lot less invasive than what the Capitol'd done. There's a part of him that's aware that he's probably just deflecting, trying to focus on anything else to keep himself from going down that path, but he doesn't really care right now.
It's hard to keep himself from panicking, more because he's alone and he struggles with self regulation these days than anything else, but he's doing his best.
Mostly that means he's turned all his attention to exploring the ship he's ended up on. He can be found in the armory poking at weapons he doesn't fully understand, as well as helping himself to the sidearm he can make sense of; in the kitchen rooting around in the pantry and fiddling with the machines he's pretty sure make more sense than they should; or roaming the hallways, eyes flashing red and pupils dilating as he scans the walls like they've got secrets he can discover if he only looks long enough. ]
around Iskaulit
[ Most of him doesn't really believe this is the Capitol, not after the way the war'd gone, but there's always the chance that Snow or someone else had some kind of messed up last resort plan, and this is it.
It's enough to make him paranoid about, well, just about everything. He's not sure he really expects to find any more answers on board the Iskaulit than he did on the Bishop. But at least it's bigger, and eases some of the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped in addition to giving him more places to explore.
The garden... honestly just makes things worse, at the moment, and Sam isn't there very long before his wings start to itch under his skin. He'd wanted soothing, but instead he finds himself getting a little more agitated, and he takes off to the gym to get some of the violence out of his system. Sam turns his attention to one of the punching bags built for enhanced strength, going not quite full out against it, but pretty close. He'll slow down at the arrival of anyone else, clearly wary and uncertain though he musters up something like a smile and a casual "hey" in greeting.
Eventually he makes his way to both Malum and the Space Bar, less out of a desire to drink and more out of falling back on the habits he'd had while in the Capitol. It's a little different when there's not a crowd of Capitolites to disappear into, but he slides into a seat anyway with a nod in greeting for anyone who makes eye contact. ]
Iskaulit: Gym
Hey, Sam. [She hasn't seen him around in awhile, but she remembers him. Or she remembers a Sam anyway.]
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It takes a few moments before he remembers that he can just ask her, that she's - hopefully - not about to kill him on first sight. ]
Really hope I'm not about to look like a huge jackass here, but if we've met, I can't remember it.
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Oh, no, that's okay. It was awhile ago and just on the network. [Maybe it was even voice, but she doesn't think so.] Plus, I met you twice and you'd only remember me from the last time. [Not that he does remember her, but that's okay.] Which I assume someone filled you in on another version of you being here briefly before you, right?
Anyway, I'm Kitty.
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Space Bar - let me know if Natasha's getting too much of a read on Sam and I'll revise
There's a different feeling to his posture. Not overt, but certainly there.
The question remains if it's a glitch or something more.]
Interested in some company?
[She asks, but she doesn't wait to take a seat with him, across from him in a booth or next to him at the bar, watching him sideways.]
looks good to me!!
Wariness is something he's comfortable with these days, but it never was with her. The dissonance makes him suddenly aware of it. Still, it's obvious by the way he orients himself towards her that her presence is more than welcome. ]
If it's yours? Hell yeah. [ There's a million things he wants to ask her - if this is really her. He honestly doesn't know that he can trust that it is, but he wants it to be so bad. ] How long you been here?
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It's complicated. She can leave it at that.]
North of a year and a half now. It's been a while. Not as long as some of us, though. Steve and Barnes were here before me. Tony and Vision, too, but they've been gone for a while now.
[She watches his reactions to each name.]
A lot of familiar faces come and go around here.
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Space Bar
Hi, we've met, haven't we?
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It's been a while since he had that kind of reaction from someone he doesn't know, but not so long that he doesn't immediately fall back into the habits he'd had back in the Capitol. ]
If we haven't, I'm kind of glad we are now. [ It's absently flirtatious, if distant, before he catches himself and grimaces a little. ] Sorry. I don't think so, I haven't been here long.
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You must remind me of someone, then. I'm Kara.
[ she holds out her hand to shake ]
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space bar.
He doesn't bother with his armor around the ships, which means he walks into the bar in just jeans and a t-shirt. When Thor catches sight of Sam in one of the booths he gives the other man a wave.]
Hey, Sam.
[Sorry though, business first. He keeps going to the bar and orders a beer, tapping his fingers on the counter while he waits.]
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Honestly, the changes in appearance are more than enough to make Sam doubt this is the version of Thor that he'd known back in Panem, but he can't help being cautious. It wouldn't be the first time the Capitol'd messed with them like that.
Still, he pushes himself out of the booth to approach the bar. ]
I'm taking it as a good sign that you recognize me. [ Which probably isn't going to make any sense if this is another version of Thor, but still. ] The hell happened, man?
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Why wouldn't I? We spoke only a couple of weeks ago.
[Sure, Thor's not that familiar with Sam, but he's not likely to forget the guy that quickly. The follow up question is even stranger.]
What do you mean?
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iskaulit; gym
He looks up, studies the guy surreptitiously, then more openly, stretching forgotten entirely now. And while someone who's been around the Fleet longer might take this sort of thing in stride, Sam most assuredly does not.]
What the fuck?
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But his head snaps up at that exclamation, and when he sees Sam there it's like he's right back in the Capitol. They're the only ones who've been able to get into his head like this, make him see things that weren't there and fight against his friends and himself. He taps automatically into the radio frequency he shares with Albert and Jet, looking for support or back up or something to help him ground himself. But there's nothing but static, and it just reminds him that he's alone.
The back of his shirt ripples and stretches, and he gives a full body shudder as he struggles to keep his wings folded in under his skin. He takes a few steps back, kind of looking like he's either on the verge of a panic attack or going after a threat that isn't actually there. ]
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Guessin' this is as weird for you as it is for me, huh?
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Space Bar
If it even was a show. That justice-guy had said the person he'd talked to before hadn't heard any cameras. But there wasn't much more he could do with that information until he figured out how to get through these ship's firewalls and maybe access whatever feed there was.
Really, sitting in the bar of all places, in a booth in sight of the door and, consequently, in sight of that Capitol-esque Malum bar, wasn't the best choice for his nerves or the panic that still settled in his gut. But he knew all too-well that people talked more freely with more drink and, so far, no one seemed to be trying to hide their conversations, so the best place to listen in and gather intel would be here.
He sat alone in one of the booths, one of the pads of paper Kara gave him under his hand as he jotted notes and thoughts as they came to him, all in short hand so they couldn't be read over his shoulder by just anyone. Occasionally, one of the people working the bar would come by to ask if he wanted anything more than the water he clung to like a life raft, but he turned them down each time.
Movement by the door drew his eye as it did every time, the infiltrator part of him needing to know who was in the room at all times. Unlike the last times, however, he didn't immediately go back to his work. His gaze stuck, his stomach fluttering as his heart ached and dread overwhelmed him.
He knew there was a Sam Wilson around, one of the first things he did was figure out how to see who was and wasn't here. A quick brush through previous transmissions told him all he needed to know that the one here was Sam. His Sam, but not his Sam. He looked and sounded as Sam had back when he'd first met his partner, before the Capitol had tried to break him. It made his heart ache horribly, but he hadn't bothered reaching out. He wanted his Sam. The Sam who calmed at his touch and held him close and knew Bucky better than almost anyone else and had his back like they were one unit instead of two parts to a whole.
And yet, unmistakably, Sam Wilson walked through the Space Bar's door and Bucky wished he had a way to dash from the room unnoticed or simply turn invisible. There were so many things now, in person, that ached with familiarity in how the other man moved and held himself, the way he looked as he walked in the room, but Bucky had to tell himself it was in his head. He couldn't do now what he'd done with the Other Peggy and lose himself in useless hope.
No, any moment now, they'd see each other and Sam would come talk to him because he looked like Winter and knew his face and Bucky would have to look at him the whole time knowing his heart was wanting a man not in front of him.
He wished he could look away.]
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But he's fraying around the edges, trying to keep up something like calm, trying to steady himself every time something sends him tipping over or his mind slips. Trying to do this alone. It's made him almost as paranoid as he was back during his first days back from the Capitol. More, maybe, because he doesn't have Bucky and the others, but at least it's less when it comes to the Capitol's fingers being in his mind.
So he notices the feeling of someone watching him almost as soon as he makes his way inside the bar, and when he turns to see who it is, he stops in mid-step. Sam knows, he'd been prepared for a Bucky who looked like his best friend, but - he hadn't been ready for one who looked identical to the man he loves, the one whose absence has meant there's more than a part of Sam that wants to fight everything he sees until he can find him.
Somehow he finds himself moving towards the booth he's sitting in, drawn by Bucky's presence despite that he doesn't want this.
He doesn't want to look down, but he does anyway. There's no point in drawing this out, in letting himself hope. And then he sees the ring on Bucky's hand, and the fact that he's very definitely letting himself hope is probably obvious in the way his expression lights up. ]
Goddamn, farm boy, I better not be hallucinating right now.
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the garden;
he is busy tending to small, purple tomatoes when sam comes in. he smiles. ]
didn't know you were on your way here. come to steal off my plants again?
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It's Steve, and he's clearly expecting the Sam who's been here a while. And yeah, of course he is, that should have been obvious, but obvious feels very different when Steve's smiling at him and Sam suddenly has no idea how to explain that he isn't the man Steve thinks he is.
It doesn't help the feeling of his wings itching under his skin. ]
That the kind of thing I do here?
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bishop
...Which is...interesting.
Sayid stops a good distance away, taking Sam in. He's not frightened or even cautious. Just...curious.]
Hello. You've just arrived?
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Than he's telling himself he should be, anyway, because he's really trying to convince himself this isn't another Capitol game.
He blinks, clearing his eyes and trying to force himself to lose some of the tension in his body. ]
Yeah, I guess you could call it that. They do that often, just teleporting you where ever they want?
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Iskaulit: Gym
He walks in, looking over at Sam and nodding his head. It had been a long time ago, but he had spoken to him before - well, not this him. Another him. Another Sam, from another world with other experiences. Not the he could tell the difference right off. ]
It was Sam, right?
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Which means he nods back, even managing a small, quick smile before he plans on turning his attention back to his work out - until the guy knows his name.
He's used to this conversation by now, too, and he's starting to wonder if this is how Bucky'd felt back home. He pauses, turning his attention more towards the other guy. ]
Yeah, but probably not the Sam you're thinking. I just got here a little bit ago.
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garden;; arrives 70 years late to shake things up
At first, he's going to offer a greeting to Sam, though something about the posture stops him. It's not his usual body language and can't help just giving him a once over, looking for signs of agitation. Doesn't take much to find it. Sam may be many things, but in the time he's known him, wears his emotions pretty plainly. Bucky's no stranger to duplicates, even welcomes it. His best friend was still himself from another timeline.
He approaches cautiously, purposefully shifting his feet so they make noise as he approaches Sam. ]
Hey.
bucky crashing into shake things up is the one constant in sam's life
It's not - well, it's very obviously not the man he loves, and he doesn't have a whole lot of hope that it's the one who'd become his best friend, either. Out of both necessity and familiarity, Sam's gotten pretty damn good at picking up on even the small things that make them different, and he can't find any of them, and-
And now he's just staring, which. Is probably not doing him any favors, here. It sure as hell isn't doing much to keep himself steady, and he finds himself rolling back his shoulders like he can force his wings to stay where they are out of sheer will. ]
How long you been here?
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I'm still down if you're down