sam wilson. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
falcony) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2022-01-25 09:46 am
falcony) wrote in abraxaslogs2022-01-25 09:46 am
[ closed ] time to go to work.
WHO: sam wilson and close cr
WHAT: after his "talk" with goro, sam's reaching out to his people to talk politics and next moves. AS WELL AS various threads in february
WHERE: horizon + cadens
WHEN: mid-late january through february
WARNINGS: talks/mentions of violence, ptsd, war, etc.
starters will be below!
if you'd like to plan something,
catch me on plurk/disco/pm
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disarmingly || dai#3757
WHAT: after his "talk" with goro, sam's reaching out to his people to talk politics and next moves. AS WELL AS various threads in february
WHERE: horizon + cadens
WHEN: mid-late january through february
WARNINGS: talks/mentions of violence, ptsd, war, etc.
if you'd like to plan something,
catch me on plurk/disco/pm
tony.
except that sam knows it's not that simple. or, perhaps, it's not that it's not simple. but rather he knows that - whether or not tony stark wants to involve himself in it - he's not going to be able to remove himself either. sam has contacts in solvunn, people he knows he can depend on, and he counts tony as one of them. the only different is that sam's not sure tony wants this. or if he just...wants to live out his afterlife in his farm-to-table dream. sam wrestles with this for a little bit, but not all that long, before he decides that iron man, no matter where that might have ended him up, gets to make that decision for himself.
so - sometime in the middle of one afternoon - tony's going to get a smattering of easy script across his eyes. sam's script, if he even knows what that looks like. ]
covers the date on this tag.
however, the next day, at lunchtime, tony indeed shows up at sam's horizon, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, looking mildly curious. better, than he had been the last time they chatted. more well-rested, at the very least. ]
They have other people who do the farming in Solvunn, you know.
[ with a roll of his eyes as he takes a step proper into the house. a casual glance around, to memorize the layout. ]
I just reap the rewards -- anyway, what do you want, wings?
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instead, he kind of snorts. gestures for one of the bar seats, if tony wants to sit down. ]
You? Giving up control like that? Wasn't sure it was possible.
[ he lets tony look around, let's tony take as much time as he wants to be nosy. he'll find photos of people and places that look almost like home, and then some distinctly made-up ones of people sam's met here. either way, sam's gonna talk loud enough that where ever tony is snooping he'll hear. ]
I want to talk. About how things are in Solvunn. About some shit going on in the Free Cities. [ whatever it is sam's cooking, it's involved chopping or. ] Whether or not you want to get involved, you should know what's happening, and some shit is going to start happening.
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[ blithely, though he does settle into a seat, when offered one. he does take a cursory look around, but doesn't linger too heavily, on the details. he loathes people wandering into his own horizon and looking at same details, so he resists the urge to be nosy. for now, anyway.
he does, however, take notice of a photo that looks from home. sam, and a woman around his age. a sister, maybe? faintly, tony realizes he knows next to nothing about sam and his personal life. and he's about to ask when sam says what he does. ]
It's a town full of farmers and sheep; not much happens. They leave me alone, and I leave them alone. I have permission to do what I want, and I haven't seen the need to break whatever rule they have in place yet. Not that there are much.
[ with a shrug, resting his chin in a hand, though he does seem at least casually interested in what sam has to say. ]
But I'm guessing you know something I don't, hence this whole secret meeting about things that are happening, or whatever.
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but with tony here - thankfully - the tv stays quiet. no need to bring up that conversation.
sam keeps cooking, keeps making whatever it is he's making. when tony takes a seat, if he wants one, there will be a bottle of beer or a cup of water or even a drink. thanks magic horizon space. he nods along with tony's description, though. ] Have you heard much about the whole religious side of it all? [ sam doesn't know much beyond the fact they worship the old gods and little else. but this is about opening lines of communication. about trying to check in. he sits back from the counter, finding a towel to wipe his hands.
secret meeting. sam almost bristles at the idea of that, but you know, tony's not wrong. sam is, specifically, having this talk in the horizon. away from any locals, in a place where he knows they can't be overheard. so, rather than correcting tony, sam just sighs. ]
Not sure how much of the welcome speech you got, about the history lessons and how the factions are one step away from all-out war, or what happened last Halloween. [ sam knows the free cities tends to skimp a bit on the actual history lesson, so he can only imagine what solvunn goes over. ] But yeah, I think we may have some potential trouble coming your way soon. Have you met a Summoned named Goro yet?
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[ a bit blithely, letting his eyes land on whatever sam is making. idly, tony considers that he misses cooking. it's a weird kind of science, in a way. making dinner for his family had been soothing and a way to be creative without causing too much chaos. until morgan got involved, anyway.
the thought causes an odd twist in his chest, and tony exhales through his nose, refocusing on the conversation at hand, focused back in the moment. ]
As for Goro, haven't met him yet. Heard of him. Hard not to, when the population of the kidnapped isn't exactly newsworthy. What's his deal?
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tony moves on and sam lets out a bit of a blithe chuckle of his own - something a little tired, a little lacking in any real humor. ] Big guy, lotta arms, kind of half snake? [ what is his life. sam just keeps going. ] He's warmongering, to cut to the chase. Pushing up on tensions from the Free Cities and their distrust of magic and directing it all on Solvunn. I'd be surprised if he didn't force either the government's hand and send them on some kind of 'diplomatic' trip, or if he just. Started walking with his mob.
[ sam looks at tony at that point, his expression...not grave, necessarily. but heavy. worried. ]
stephen.
( but let's be honest - sam is quite thankful for it. he doesn't know if he has the vocab to be able to explain that they do know each other but don't really know each other and he's pretty sure they're from the same place but he guesses it's possible they're not but also- yeah. no thanks. he might have gotten a masterclass on the multiverse by a very different peter parker, but he's not. there yet. )
the thing is - they've got a great coworker situation going on. and sam didn't even have to tread water to get there. they've been passing information back and forth - about the dimming, about the free cities, about what they're hearing with their ear to the ground. stephen strange has been a help, and whether or not sam feels like he knows the guy, he can't help but what...trust him? need to depend on him?
either way, he's one of the first people sam reaches out to, when everything is said and done. it's early, but sam's got a feeling stephen isn't necessarily a late sleeper (god he hopes not), when the script will appear across stephen's vision. ]
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And while he doesn’t really know Sam, he’s won a substantial level of trust just by default. Someone from his world earns interest and investment, of course; but a hero from his world, one who aided in the fight to bring back half of the life in the known universe, earns his respect. It’s always there, if distant — courtesy of a literal separation between them and Stephen’s own arms-length personality.
Regardless, when the message shines in his vision, the response is without delay. Sam’s guessed right; if one looked up the phrase “burning the candle at both ends”, Stephen’s picture would be plastered right next to it.]
[And he does, arriving tomorrow at the previously discussed time. Stephen takes in the view of Sam’s fashioned home on the Horizon, attention briefly distracted by the sun glinting off the water just beyond the docks at a distance. It’s calm here, quiet — homey, in a way that Stephen isn’t used to after years of living in NYC. The Sanctum could be tranquil, cozy in its own eccentricities, but it could also be imposing, surreal, curious.
This house is safe and grounded. The porch is open, its wood creaking beneath his steps, happily worn with time. His purposeful gait slows to something less hurried, if even for a second.
He knocks on the door and waits.]
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plus - there is something comforting in having someone who, whether or not they knew each other back home, are coming from a similar enough place. who know where they both are coming from. tony stark is a situation all his own, but sam's thankful for both of them. for a feeling of normalcy from home, if nothing else. the response is reassuring, and sam focuses on it with a sense of authority. with a feeling of being back to work. in a lot of ways, it's nice. in a lot of others, it feels a little like he's sliding back into a coat that's too big for him.
he reminds himself stephen didn't know steve all that well, if at all, either. that there aren't shoes he's trying to fill. that he's just. he's just doing what he needs to. here. in abraxas.
and sam is back in the kitchen, when stephen knocks. putting on the finishing touches of whatever he's making - maybe a casserole, maybe something else. but he leans over and yells down the hall - enough to be heard through the door ]
It's open!
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He shoves his hands in his pockets—sorcerer’s garb traded out for something utterly casual, something few people see Stephen wearing these days: a t-shirt and jeans (subconsciously, he’s matched the casual atmosphere of the house)—and hikes up a brow.]
Smells good. What’s on the menu?
[Surely Sam didn’t call him here for a Horizon luncheon, but not drawing attention to it seems like some kind of sin.]
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Seafood gumbo. Though knowing this place, you can make it out to be whatever you want.
[ he serves up a bowl of it all the same, setting it on the counter and pushing it over to where stephen has either sat or stood, before serving himself a bowl too. there was something about talking over food that made this easier, something about it that both sets a mood and softens the tone of it.
but sam doesn't waste too much time, just long enough to take a bite, to make sure stephen says what he wants to say, before he sighs. with that sigh, something almost shifts in the room. like, subconsciously, the horizon feels a bit more professional. a bit colder. ]
I know we don't actually know each other. [ strong start, way to go sam. ] And I know you haven't been here all that long, either, but I needed to ask if you if you're willing to work with me on building a kind of inner-faction group while we're all here. [ sam settles into his own barstool, situating before he turns back to stephen. it's another subtle shift, probably, but sam looks suddenly much older. much more tired. ]
I've got reason to believe things are about to start escalating much faster than they have been. Dangerously so. And we - the Summoneds - aren't going to be able to avoid getting involved if we don't start working together.
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Wouldn't dare.
[He wonders if the choice is courtesy of the docks out back; wonders if this is the kind of thing Sam's had a lot back home. But ultimately, they're not here for small talk, and the man's start makes that clear. They don't know each other -- likely, this is strictly business, as he expected.
He listens, the line of his shoulders becoming a little straighter as each word passes Sam's lips. Nothing adds flavor to a meal like the promise of war hanging over their heads, a sharpened sword about to drop.]
How very Avengers of you. [Mr. Captain America. Wry as Stephen's tone is, he doesn't mean it as a bad thing. He agrees on principle.] But yeah, of course. We're sorely lacking a group like that, and anything that perpetuates an exchange of clear information from all territories would be helpful. Especially if a war is bound to spark.
[Which Sam is making it sound like it is, sooner rather than later. There's rhetoric there that Stephen wants to pick at (aren't going to be able to avoid getting involved) but the primary question gets priority first:]
So what's the reason for escalation? Is someone out there stirring the pot?
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geralt + amos.
but it's fine. it has to be fine. he doesn't really have the time to start getting annoyed at what this place does and doesn't have - not after eight months. nine months? who knows.
all the same - he talks to geralt. and upon realizing they're pretty much on the same page (pretty much only in the sense that they agree on everything that matters. the details they didn't get into, and sam doesn't feel like he needs to), they talk next steps. one of the first being amos - to get him on the same page, to update him on what might be headed to solvunn, and anything and everything that could come up. he shoots amos the message later that night - ][ and that's about it.
the next day amos will find geralt and sam in the kitchen - because of course sam is there, of course sam is cooking, going through the motions of something that matters more for there to be something to do with his hands than any actual food.
amos should probably know by now to let himself in. at least - that's what sam's assuming when he hears footsteps on the porch. ]
Back here!
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Amos will indeed find Geralt with Sam in the kitchen. Where Sam's keeping busy, Geralt's simply leaning against the counter with a drink in hand. He's made it clear to Sam from the outset that he isn't getting involved in anything for the sake of playing peacekeeper or moving on any of the territories. Truthfully, he doesn't disagree with Goro on that end: a war is inevitable. If Goro were not instigating, it'd be someone else. Something else. People are always searching for a reason, for an excuse, and if there are none provided, they will make one themselves.
So that's not why he's here, with Sam. He's here because desperate kingdoms and desperate people take desperate action. The Free Cities already derides magic as it is, and he knows too well some of that derision stems from fear. Regardless of how skilled they are at making use of it, nearly all of the Summoned can access chaos at their fingertips. Ciri is practically made of it. He has not made the decision to remain in this world only for her to be forced into running and hiding again from those who want to use her or destroy her.
He hears the footsteps before Sam does, though he makes no comment. Not until Amos is well into the kitchen does Geralt even look up. When he catches Amos' eye, he tosses a can of beer his way—and that's all the greeting he offers. ]
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Sam's message is kind of like a godsend. He didn't bother answering; when Wings tells you to meet up with him, you do. So he does.
Amos makes no qualms about slipping into the Horizon in the middle of the day in Solvunn's busiest settlement. Shit like comped rooms, he isn't really sure how he feels about. But nobody here's gonna start shit if they catch him sneaking off to some metaphysical place. Or if they do, he'll handle that. No skin off his nose.
He catches the beer, cracks it open, takes a long drink from it before doing anything else. Feeling sated, Amos leans back against a wall, looking at them: Sam bustling, Geralt standing. Hadn't necessarily been expecting that, so he can only assume something's up. ]
Hey. [ He nods at Geralt; Sam's still busy putting whatever it is together to really see him, though the greeting is directed at both of them. He's not sure what he's supposed to be smelling from this. He'll wait. ] Lunch date?
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he finishes up with whatever he's been fiddling with - some sort of pasta, with chicken and shrimp and veggies and honestly, he hadn't been paying much attention, looking up from it right as amos had been making his nod. right as he was getting settled. sam flashes a smile, a regular greeting, and shrugs at the question. ]
Only if you're hungry. [ which sam had...very obvious assumed they both would be. he starts plating all the same for all three of them - handing over the meal when the plate is piled high enough. is it because he knows they both eat a ton, or just because he's sort of over-indulging in the service of it? they may never know. ]
How're things out by you? [ he asks amos - and while there is little about the actual question that is serious, there's a kind of weighted-ness to how he asks it. like it might have something to do with why he'd brought them all here. ]
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He does trust Amos. They've always been on good terms. But he has not forgotten, either, what Amos told him the first time he came to Kaer Morhen. It isn't a detail he's shared with Sam, but it is the reason he thinks it's good Sam is here, too. Someone Amos seems to like, whose call he will answer.
Sam might be inching towards the point of this gathering with a semblance of preamble; Geralt has no such notions—and the way he follows after Sam without pause suggests he was expecting it, like he'd anticipated he'd be the one to bring the topic forth before Amos can ask, What's this about?
He takes a piece of shrimp with his fingers and pops it into his mouth. ] We've reason to believe Solvunn might be the focus of some conflict in the coming future.
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His gaze clicks from Sam to Geralt when the latter speaks up. If he didn't already know the both of them, this would feel something like an ambush. Like something's going to be demanded of him, and maybe it's something he wants nothing to do with, and maybe it's a meeting where not everybody leaves alive. Wouldn't be the first time it's happened to him.
Except he likes Wings and Hunter as much as he likes anyone in this world, and Wings' introduction feels a lot like Holden before he'd finally get to the point, so Hunter's auto-translate feature is welcomed. He takes his time chewing and swallowing before speaking up, directing his gaze at the both of them. ]
No shit, huh? [ He isn't surprised in the slightest; mildly curious, maybe. ] Yeah, I don't think they're really what they seem. I've been out in the Primary Settlement past couple of days now, only fuck if I know what I'm looking for. Just that something seems up. What do you guys know?
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geralt + steve.
yes - it’s a bit of a conspiracy board. no - sam has not accepted the fact he’s gone full crazy conspiracy mode. no - he doesn’t really want to talk about it. there are a few pieces with peter’s handwriting, some geralt’s, but most of it is sam’s tight capital script. it’s nights, and days, at this board that sam misses his tablets the most. misses a computer. even just a phone. this was so much easier when he didn’t have to wor try about quills breaking and ink bottles spilling. sam’s hands, right now, are fully smudged and dipped in dark ink. he’s just….come to accept it.
sometimes he’s alone. sometimes he’s not. tonight, geralt is standing off a bit to the side of the board looking equally in thought, and not being the only one wrapped up in all of this somehow makes sam feel a bit better. ]
So wait- you’re telling me that giant rocks are what your monsters come from?
[ it’s been a long night. it’s still just evening. ]
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Now he's got Sam. Who needs to know these things and apparently understands best when it's. Visualized, as Sam calls it. In the interest of not having to explain the same thing several times over, Geralt's agreed to contribute to this mess of a board. Merely looking at it gives him a fucking headache. He doesn't know how Sam's getting anything out of this, but he's accepted it's necessary. He can acknowledge it has its uses—namely, that he can obtain bits of information scribbled down now and again without having to actually speak to anyone.
When Sam says giant rocks, Geralt takes a breath. He's perched on the edge of a table, charcoal blackening the tips of his fingers. He folds his arms. ]
No. They're monoliths. [ There's a difference. Significant difference. Geralt's drawn said monoliths atop flat circles representing the spheres. He moves over now to add branches between them, spreading ever outward like leaves upon a tree. The tree being the Singularity. It makes a certain kind of sense in his head, if one can accept the absurdity of an infinite number of interlinked spheres in the first place, but the look on Sam's face suggests the other man feels otherwise. ]
They serve as gateways. Linking one sphere to another. A strong enough surge of power can crack these gateways open.
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In fact, he's restless this evening, and not wanting to bother Bucky with it (not wanting to bother anyone, really) he decides he'll take a walk again. It's all he can do to weather the what-ifs of home and the what-ifs of this place. He pauses in his venture only because he hears the telltale sounds of animated talking behind Sam's door - a door he's come to know as the entry to safe harbor. Well, the door as much as the man that dwells inside.
Without thinking, he taps the door with a few knuckles before letting himself in, assuming that he'd see Peter before catching Sam. ]
Sounds like you're - [ A pause, because sure, he clocks Sam in the room, but where he half expects to see Peter Parker, the kid from Queens, he instead sees a man he does not recognize. The board, however, gives him more pause than the pale haired man across from Sam. ]
I was going to say it sounds like a party, but I think I might be interrupting.
[ Another glance, first to the board with its smudged scraps of parchment, then to the ink-stained fingers of his friend, and back up to the stranger who he's sure he overheard saying something about gateways. As if time travel wasn't complicated enough. ]
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they're keeping the board. and writing things down. it's just how it has to happen, now that they've already started. and sam's already worked out the space on where he can slide it away between some of the furniture and the wall so that no one who shouldn't see it, won't.
geralt takes a breath and says no they're monoliths and sam rolls his eyes. ] Same thing. [ because they are - technically - even if geralt doesn't believe him. but seeing as that's not the important part of this conversation, he lets it slide, watching as geralt adds the branches onto the circles, representing a sphere. sam frowns a little, trying to connect the points he's being given, unsure of what it all means. ]
So they're like...permanent portals? You bring the energy and can just go...well, not wherever, but to another one of the monoliths?
[ what is his life. sam is squinting a bit at the image geralt is drawing, trying to wrap his head around these concepts. so they're like...what? kind of like elevators? but instead of going up they're going to other worlds? ] Do you know how many there are?
[ he's talking when the knocking comes, which is the only reason he doesn't immediately clock it as someone coming inside. it's not a new thing, necessarily - the way that people come in and out of sam's apartment. the way he's opened his doors here, just as he's opened them in the horizon. and for all the people's he's invited over, the ones who do let themselves inside, he knows who that list is and is fine - more than fine, in a lot of ways - with each of them.
so when the door opens, sam glances over to see who's entering without much worry - the list is somewhat limited, seeing as he knows peter is at the university, jaskier is off with hector, geralt is here and bucky was...well, bucky was somewhere, but sam wasn't really worried. steve tended to go on walks around this time and then everyone else had their own ways about them. sam did his best keeping tabs on them, knowing where and when and how as much as he could. still, the last few weeks have been anything but manageable, despite how much sam's been keeping up with. or attempting to.
seeing steve step through and his eyes go from geralt to the board has sam - almost immediately - up on his feet. ]
Steve- hey. [ it's not that sam feels guilty for what steve's walked in on, but a part of him does realize it looks (and is) a lot. that, wrapped up with the fact that even now, every time sam catches sight of steve it catches something in his chest. a bit like lying, though he knows he isn't. a conversation they haven't yet had, wrapped up in the strange almost-relief of him just being around. it's a strange combination of emotions that sam still isn't sure what to make of it himself, but here he is. days, if not more, with steve being here.
he gives the other man a smile, and glances back to geralt. sees something in the way steve looks to geralt and geralt looks back to steve and oh right. ]
Y'all haven't met, have you. [ it's not a question so much as a kind of tone, friendly introductions. he glances to geralt again if only out of habit before he gives steve a smile, gesturing to the witcher. ]
Geralt got pulled through the portal around when I did, and we came to the Cities together too. [ which is...a severe understatement when it comes to what their relationship is, and sam knows that, but he figures the details of what they've been through together aren't exactly easy conversation topics, so he just lets it end there. assumes that steve gets it - they were here from the beginning, and they're still here even now. ] He's teaching me how to use a sword. [ that additional bit of info pulls something of a friendly, joking sort of smile from sam when he gestures at geralt - like it's some kind of inside joke, when really sam's just exceptionally bad at it, before moving on. ]
Geralt- this is Steve Rogers. He um- [ and for not even the breadth of a second, sam pauses. panics, in a small way, on exactly how to describe steve rogers to anyone. his eyes are on steve, and it suddenly feels like he's seeing the entire breadth of their relationship is fast forward. from dc to sokovia, ultron to bucky, from being on the run to watching his disappear on that platform, waiting for him to come back. it reads a bit like a hesitation, a bit like uncertainty, for that single almost-moment before sam's back again.
another smile - though this one a little different from the joking one before - breaks out. ] He's a friend from home. [ another gross under-representation, but sam assumes that's a little better than coworker, which had been his next guess, so he goes with it.
and then, the elephant in the room- ]
Not really a party, but you're free to join in. Geralt and I were, uh- [ he's not entirely sure what the feeling is that follows, then. a little embarrassment? a little like he was caught doing something? sam shrugs it off. ] Talking about the Singularity.
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Then footsteps approach the door and he looks up. Sam's place being what it is, he's used to people coming in and out. There was a brief period where it was quiet, where it was only him and Sam after he crawled back from Thorne, but it's filled back up since. Geralt's returned home around the same time—Jaskier and Ciri needed him, and his personal space is no longer a priority. Besides, now that he's healed up, he's back to being in the city maybe a week or two out of the month. It's a rare moment here where he's actually in Cadens instead of days out in the desert.
This face is new, though. Not Dean or Bucky. New face but not a new name. Sam likes to chatter, Geralt likes to listen; over enough ales in the evenings, he's picked up pieces of Sam's past. The name Steve mentioned offhand now and again, usually with a sort of fond wistfulness. Geralt's always assumed they must've been comrades in the same war. Never found it relevant to ask beyond that. A friend from home.
His yellow eyes sweep over Steve, before flicking to Sam—that flash of hesitation and affection he can read all rolled into one—and then back again. It's an appraising look, though not judging.
Unlike Sam, Geralt stays where he is—but he offers a hand for Steve to take. Sam's already taken the liberty of making the introductions; not much else to add to it. ]
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He wagers they'd look like the board, if not worse.
He makes mental note to ask about portals, monoliths, things he's happened to catch when he wasn't meant to be hearing, but for now he offers a quiet, amiable smile. There's a fondness to it - Sam has made himself the hub for many here, has become everything Steve knew he could be and while he's immeasurably proud of his friend, a tiny part of him feels a little remorse, too. He knows what weight like that feels like. ]
Geralt? [ Steve steps forward, paying no mind to the hesitation in either case - he can read between the lines, and some battles and some wars are dark enough they don't need mentioning. They sit in the silent shadows wherever the soldier goes. He takes the man's hand, giving it a firm grip and shake. ] Steve Rogers. [ There's a nod to say nice to meet you, but is it really nice to meet anyone in a place like this? He's not sure.
Instead, he turns his eyes to the board, then back to Sam with his brows raised. He has questions, sure - things he'll ask Sam later - but for now: ]
Looks like you were talking about a little more than that. But if there's room at the table for one more, I wouldn't mind joining. I have some questions of my own.
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