driftfleet | action

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. ]

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[ His face does something complicated when she sits across from him, a sharp inhale and the beginnings of a wide smile that twists briefly into grief before settling on uncertainty.

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?

[There's a lot there. Natasha settles on responding to his recognition and the question, letting him have the rest of his feelings without being interrogated for them.

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.

[ A year and a half. He tries to do the math on the timing, to figure out how long ago the Natasha he last saw died in one of the arenas and never came back. But his last stint in the Capitol had messed up his sense of the timing of it all, and anyway, it doesn't make sense with the other names she mentions.

He's not at all surprised to hear that there's some version of Steve and Bucky here, not with how many of them he'd known of in Panem. It's Tony's name that gets the biggest reaction out of him, though. He tenses, and there's a faint flash of red to his eyes before he looks away.

If this really is Natasha - any version of her - he doubts he's going to be able to hide this for long, but he tries anyway. ]

'Course they do. It was like that where I was before here, too. [ When he feels like he's gotten himself under control, he looks back up, though he doesn't quite meet her eyes. ] When you say gone...?

[She knows exactly what he's asking. Her expression softens marginally, a shift around her eyes and the corner of her mouth. She wishes she had better news, but she's not exactly an optimist.]

The word is that when they're done here, they send us home. Or maybe somewhere else. I'd say the actual evidence is inconclusive.

[She's heard some darker theories floated, but she can't prove them either.]

Atroma, the corporation that's running the Fleet behind the scenes, seem to have mastered the ability to transport people through space, time. Even different realities.

[Which raises the question...]

[ His jaw sets briefly, but yeah, that's about what he was expecting. Same thing they said in the Capitol, when they didn't just flat out kill you. It's better, in Tony's case, but now he's wondering -

Which home are they promising they're gonna send him to, when whatever the hell this is ends? Not a question he really wants to think about right now, when he's already hip-deep in paranoia, but he knows he's gonna have to circle back to it sooner or later.

Later, a lot later, and he focuses back in on Natasha and the question he gets the feeling she's asking. ]

Sounds familiar. I, uh. I wasn't on Earth when they picked me up, but I'm gonna guess you were.

You're right about that. [And his answer speaks volumes. She can kind of imagine where he might have come from. Of course, she could be wrong. Could be there are so many of them out there in the infinite different realities that it's pointless to speculate that someone comes from any particular one.

She might believe that, if she thought it was random how they were chosen. There are too many of them from her reality to believe that, though.] So where you're from, this place that isn't Earth... I'm guessing it's not exactly safe.

[ That's... yeah, that's what he was expecting, again. It is her, but it's not, and that might throw him off more if he wasn't so used to meeting doubles of his friends from back home.

He gives a little exhale at her choice of words, quirking a tiny smile. ]

That's one way of putting it, yeah. But it was gonna be safer. We were - [ Destroying it, he almost says, but he stops himself because he doesn't know what part of him that's coming from. The part of his mind still touched by the Capitol that insisted the rebels were destroying the peace they'd maintained, the former prisoner of war who helped over throw the leadership of District 13, the man who'd meddled in a world he wasn't born in a long time before he'd decided to call it his own.

He shakes his head, like that's gonna clear it. ] Working on it.

We, hm? [She studies his face, the smile, the way he pauses over his choice of words. She doesn't know what it means, filing the details away for later, when she has more context and time to reflect.] Anyone else I know?

[ There's another little smile, bittersweet. ]

Whole crew of Avengers, at the beginning. Tony and Bruce and Thor, more than one version of Steve and Bucky. Clint. You.

[At the beginning. That sounds loaded. It also sounds like something Natasha doesn't need to pick apart just now.

She keeps the conversation lighter than that.]

Me, hm? You know, I haven't run into any other versions of myself yet. Heard about them. There was a Clint here from another world—he and his protege had something to say.

[ Honestly, Sam's grateful as hell for that. It's not something he really wants to pick apart right now, either. ]

There was another version of you before I got there, but the only one I knew was a lot like the one I met back on Earth. [ He still doesn't know, really, if she'd been the same one, but it didn't really matter. She was who she was, and he'd cared about her a whole hell of a lot. But it's not something he really wants to put on this Natasha - not yet, anyway. ] Clint had a protege? That poor kid.

Kate's good—had a good head on her shoulders. Honestly, she might have been doing more to get him straight than the other way around.

[Said fondly, with half a smile. It's been some time since Kate left, and hopefully better off for it.

Natasha prefers not to speculate too much, too specifically.]

Hopefully I'm not too much of a disappointment.

Now that I can believe. [ He misses Clint, sharp and quick - he would’ve loved to tease him about this - but he lets that go. ] We got a bird back home, named Kate. Wonder if that’s the multiverse’s way of making a joke.

[ Then he shakes his head, taking a drink from his glass of water. ]

Seeing you is never gonna be a disappointment.

The multiverse seems to like jokes. [And they're rarely funny ones. Natasha shrugs it off. It could be a lot weirder and a lot less funny than a bird named after the other Hawkeye.]

Always a flatterer. [Even with a smile.]

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looks good to me!!

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