Sam Wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-07-19 04:17 pm
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote in thecapitol2015-07-19 04:17 pm
so i'll keep going till we've run out of road
Who| Sam Wilson and YOU (prompts for specific characters in the comments)
What| Back from the arena and fresh from a canon update, Sam’s dragging people into blind spots and trying hard not to lose it over Steve and Jet
Where| The Speakeasy, various Capitol blindspots
When| After the end of arena 14
Warnings/Notes| Discussion of death, PTSD, will update as needed
It’s likely a surprise to no one that Sam isn’t doing so great right about now. With both Steve and Jet not coming back from the arena, Kurloz stuck as an Avox, and Albert and Bucky unreachable in District 13, the number of people left that Sam’s started to think of as part of his family is… not all that high. He’s working real damn hard at not letting himself end up the way he had when he lost Riley, but there are times when it’s a close call.
Playing along with the Capitol and getting sponsorships and ad campaigns gives him something to do with his time, gets him the money he needs to survive now, and hopefully takes some suspicion off of him, that he’s willing to follow what the Capitol says - but it doesn’t exactly do a lot to take his mind of off things. And he’s got a lot of things on his mind, especially with whatever the hell this is that’d gone down between when he died in the arena and when he woke up here with an extra year or so’s worth of memories. For the most part, when he’s not working, he sticks close to what’s left of his team, because he knows it’s a bad idea to let himself be alone right now.
Still, every once in a while he can be found alone in the Speakeasy, nursing a drink and people watching.
What| Back from the arena and fresh from a canon update, Sam’s dragging people into blind spots and trying hard not to lose it over Steve and Jet
Where| The Speakeasy, various Capitol blindspots
When| After the end of arena 14
Warnings/Notes| Discussion of death, PTSD, will update as needed
It’s likely a surprise to no one that Sam isn’t doing so great right about now. With both Steve and Jet not coming back from the arena, Kurloz stuck as an Avox, and Albert and Bucky unreachable in District 13, the number of people left that Sam’s started to think of as part of his family is… not all that high. He’s working real damn hard at not letting himself end up the way he had when he lost Riley, but there are times when it’s a close call.
Playing along with the Capitol and getting sponsorships and ad campaigns gives him something to do with his time, gets him the money he needs to survive now, and hopefully takes some suspicion off of him, that he’s willing to follow what the Capitol says - but it doesn’t exactly do a lot to take his mind of off things. And he’s got a lot of things on his mind, especially with whatever the hell this is that’d gone down between when he died in the arena and when he woke up here with an extra year or so’s worth of memories. For the most part, when he’s not working, he sticks close to what’s left of his team, because he knows it’s a bad idea to let himself be alone right now.
Still, every once in a while he can be found alone in the Speakeasy, nursing a drink and people watching.
no subject
He replies quickly, sure he's very protective of the Avengers 'brand' and everyone in it. But he knows that if there's ever going to be a chance to get home, very few people won't be going back to their own worlds especially those that feel the need to protect this horrible place, they're going to want to go back and keep their world safe again.
It's a hero thing, he guesses.
"And I'm not doing anything. You came in here snapping at me first." He stands up out of the chair, he's let himself get just enough agitated to need to not be the smallest thing in the room. Not that standing is going to make him taller than Sam, but for him the height is better.
"I dream of going home too. Probably everyone does. Not that weird."
no subject
“I didn’t sna-,” he starts, then cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, dropping down to sit on the table. It puts him looking up at Tony, but Sam doesn’t care. Whatever alpha dog bullshit Tony’s trying to do right now, Sam doesn’t have the energy to play at it.
Instead, he reaches behind him to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling it off over his head. There’s a long, thin scar over his right shoulder and down his chest, skin still lighter and a little bit shiny, about a month along in the healing process, and a dark bruise over his ribs. Neither happened in the arena, and they haven’t been out long enough to account for their level of healing.
“You wake up with a couple of new scars and a giant ass bruise from your dream, too?”