f4lc0n

[f4lc0n]

voleur-de-coeurs​:

//

Since it was a nice day, Remy had taken the boys outside to get a bit of fresh air. He had to keep a close eye on them, though; the tempting surrounds of nature were mighty luring to a couple of rambunctious cats. But it was nice to have them play around for a bit, for sure. He had been sitting on the ground, watching Lucifer and Oliver fight over a pinecone, when someone suddenly landed a short distance away. It was Sam, dropping back in–literally. Remy might not have understood his ease with strapping wings to his back and going off into the wild blue yonder, but he definitely felt camaraderie with a fellow Louisianan.

“Committee?” Remy looked around, seeing no one but the cats. “What, you mean me an’ de boys? Pfft, we ain’t no committee. If we were, we’d be votin’ t’ have rations for more catnip treats. Well, dey would, not me.” Getting to his feet, he said, “Nice t’ have you back, Sam. How’d t'ings go?”

...

Sam smiled goodnaturedly when he saw Remy, plus the cats nearby. It was good to see something as simply joyful as someone playing with cats, after all the serious things that normally seemed to plague the Mousehole. “This is a committee if I ever saw one,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” he nodded. “Good to see you.” He got busy unbuckling his suit, letting the wings drop into his arms and then settled them onto the ground. He needed to stretch, always, after a long flight. He was just trying to get better at stretching right away. He shrugged. “Went well enough,” he answered, regarding the mission. He needed to brief with Steve before he could share everything, most likely. “How about you? You getting into any trouble?”

[f4lc0n]

kalelrising​:

…

It wasn’t hard to miss that split second look on Sam’s face once Clark had stood up, he was literally built to intimidate but Clark had tried his best for years to not come across that way but unfortunately, one or two people were caught off guard. It was fine, he could accept that was the way it’s gonna be. 

“Hm, help out around here mostly, maybe some missions. Hopefully space based.” He pointed upwards. “But I’ve got to prove my worth here first, they can’t just let me off the leash and go ‘okay clark, off you go’ I go wherever they point me. There’s still use for Superman around these parts.”

...

Space. He said it so casually, like it wasn’t something that completely set their existence apart. If Sam had his way, he wouldn’t be touching space at all. “So, what?” Sam asked, unable to stop himself. “Just putting your time in here on earth before you get to the ‘real stuff?’”

Sam thought of the way his hometown struggled, his sister raising two boys alone and his family friends still living hand-to-mouth, paycheck-to-paycheck. He thought of his vets, god, who knew how they were doing at this point. It’d been years since he resigned, turned all his cases over to another social worker. But the pain here on Earth? Shit. That’s a full-time, lifelong job if he knew it. “Look, for what it’s worth...” Sam felt his filter start to let some of his truth slide. 

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re a good guy who made a big fucking mistake. And I think you know that,” Sam said. “But if you just wanna get to space, leave all this shit to us after you get released in the wild up there again, just let us know now so we know not to depend on you when shit hits the fan again. Because it will, Kent. It may not touch you, but shit’s always hitting the fan here for someone. And I’m gonna be here for that, and I wanna know who else is gonna be with me for that.”

[f4lc0n]

oliverquino​:

​“Okay, well.” Ollie said after a good minute and a half of utter silence, “there was no way that I could see this coming. This car’s been doing me just fine since I got here, uh, nearly a year ago. And I’ve treated it with nothing but kindness.”

A claim that was easily put to the test by how junky the little car was inside; slashes along the interior roof from various arrows and equipment, questionable stains, a pervasive scent of plasticky grapes. Ollie made one more last-ditch effort at turning the engine over, but now instead of the colicky cough and sputter that refused to catch, there was a flat, unimpressed lack of anything.

He heaved a huge, dramatic sigh, and turned the ignition off properly. “So,” Ollie said to Sam, “you feel like hoofing, hitching, or hauling me through the air the rest of the way to Matchak?”

...

Sam had a lot of patience. He did, he swore he did. But even his level of patience is tested when the car Ollie’s been trying to convince him is great, cool, and workable is suddenly puttering down to the point that Sam is rapidly losing hope that he’s done anything but get them stranded.

Sam cleared his throat as Ollie laid out their choices. Truthfully, his first choice was to go back in time and slap him in the face a little bit for agreeing to jump into the dude’s car. But since that wasn’t an option, Sam tried matching his tone. “Man, if you wanted to spend some quality time with me, all you had to do was ask. I usually prefer a nice dinner, though, for future reference.”

He slapped the guy’s shoulder, keeping things friendly since they were trapped out there anyway, and got out of the car. “How much longer we got?” he asked. “We could walk, see how it goes. Sorry to tell you that your little car troubl won’t make me carry you Disney Princess-style through the air.”

“What’s been going on with you, anyway?” he asked, still feeling like he was playing catch-up with the rest of the folks around. “Besides running your car into the ground.”

[f4lc0n]

prjectx10​:

@f4lc0n​

Once again, Logan found himself pushing the covers off himself and sitting up on his bed, letting out a long breath then ran his hands through his slightly damp hair. Every single night this happened and it was always a different dream, sure as shit felt real just like the day it had happened. 

Since he wasn’t going to get back to sleep, Logan pulled his boots on, grabbed his jacket and headed out of his door to take a walk, heading for his usual spot on the roof to smoke the cigar he had in his top pocket. 

Most nights, he was on his own but tonight, there was someone already sat up there so he hesitated at the door before sighing and stepping out anyway. “Evening.” He leaned against the door frame and lit up, taking a puff from it, he was happy that it was silent at least.

...

Sam wished he could say he’d gotten a magical break from the nightmares when he was exhausted on mission or in the safety of his family’s home, but the truth was that they’d been getting worse. The guilt of being so far away on top of the incessant stress of Sokovia was getting to him more than he cared to admit. It was all he could do to wake up in tangled, sweat-damp sheets and remind himself who he was and where he was sleeping, and get himself to the roof.

He wasn’t alone that night, though, and that shouldn’t be a surprise either. Plenty of people couldn’t sleep, just like him, but the surprise of who it was hit Sam square in the chest. Logan. Last he’d seen him, he was preparing for his own mission. From the lines around his eyes, Sam was reluctant to ask how it’d gone. Or maybe that was just Logan. He was grateful for the hesitation, the sigh, the quiet greeting; it was a veteran’s greeting, one that betrayed their shared need for preparation and aversion to sudden, loud noises behind them.

Sam turned and nodded. “Cigar, huh?” He couldn’t say he blamed him; indulgences were hard to come by here, but he supported them wholesale, taking the joy where they could get it. Silence settled between them before Sam turned to properly talk to him. “What’re the chances of me getting a Logan bedtime story to stave off the nightmares, huh?” Though he figured plenty of the guy’s stories were nightmares in their own right. 

[f4lc0n]

blackcanaryrising​:

Dinah’s muscles were already warmed up and she was getting pretty tired of slamming her fist into a bag that just hung there. She was always grateful for the wave of people that came in to speak her favorite language with her so when she saw Wilson she couldn’t help the big smile she got on her face. Dinah was strong and she could go toe to toe with people like Rogers but she really wanted to rip the whole damn training room in half thinking about her Cry. Stupid Ollie and his stupid smart self calling her out for her mental health. She had done the therapy dance before back when they both needed it but it wasn’t her natural tendency. Her life and relationship had to be fully falling apart for her to admit that she was weak enough. Sure that probably wasn’t the best way to think because people who needed help weren’t weak. Only her. Ollie had called her out for that too. 

All she could really say was thank God for Shiva teaching her discipline that meant she didn’t just go buy a bunch of cocaine to strong arm her way through every tough feeling she had with constant fighting and an overactive heartbeat, and she didn’t go drown in a fifth of tequila either. Now she did it with fighting and honing her body and skills. So Sam’s request made total sense to her.

“You’re finally going to let me beat your ass?” she asked him playfully over the blaring music. Her own playlist filled with Spanish punk, Black Canary’s songs, and classic rock. It was music to get the blood pumping. She turned it down so he could actually hear her. “What’s the occasion? Did you just finally give in to the incredible temptation of getting thrown through a wall by a buff Latina?”

...

Sam burst out laughing at Dinah’s response, feeling his blood thrum in time to the adrenaline already pumping through. It was true, Dinah’s offer to completely turn him upside down had been a welcome and steady soundtrack when he had Steve or someone else usually as a sparring partner. This was just the first time he was restless enough to take her up on it. 

“It’s been a dream of mine ever since I was a little boy, truly,” he joked. “Some boys dream of the day they’ll meet their soulmate, maybe going to space, all that. Not me.” He grinned and crossed his arms. “This is the dream, Lance. Right here, right now.”

But as he stretched, knowing that once they started, it wouldn’t stop. That he’d probably be nursing soreness all week and he needed to stretch before...as he did that, he let his smile dampen just a little bit. “Just need out of my head, a little bit, you know?” He shrugged before dropping into some pushups to pump himself up a little. “Cool with you? What’re we doing?”

[f4lc0n]

kalelrising​:

...

Clark smiled when Sam laughed, lifting a shoulder in response. “Not my powers that are going unchecked.” he tossed the book onto the ground next to him and got up to his feet with ease. It was easy to see just how tall and big Superman was when you got this close to him. “They may not be able to die, yet, but they sure can age.” 

“Hm?” Clark glanced over at Sam as he brushed off the grass from his trousers then regarded the question with a tilt of his head. “Because it’s what I deserve and the sooner it happens, the sooner it’s out of the way and I can finally get down to what I need to do here.” 

...

Sam tried not to be affected when Clark rose to his full height and breadth, but it’s nearly impossible. He was huge, and not only that, but he carried himself with the immensity of his size and his power. Sam knew he was built to make humans like him think twice before challenging him. Hell, he was built for anything to think twice before doing that.

Sam didn’t turn away or shrink, though, trying to carefully compose his face to continue their conversation. He wasn’t about to falter, not now. Not ever, if he could stand it. Besides, Clark seemed to have an okay head on those huge shoulders. 

“Which is what, exactly?” Sam asked. Seemed like everyone there had their own agenda, when he really got down to it. Hadn’t been a real unified fight in ages. Even when the question was out of his mouth, he started filtering through what he had to do there. Help people, he supposed, was the obvious answer. But underneath that...fuck. Who knew what was happening under the surface. Still, he wondered what brought former Superman to the Mousehole at all. “What’s Clark Kent’s big master plan, huh?”

[f4lc0n]

falcon || canary

Sam couldn’t lay around anymore. It was good, recovering from the jet lag from coming back from the States, but he was over it. He wanted out. He wanted in, too, back in the game, back in the work. But there were doubts lingering in his mind. 

He was unprepared for them. He came back with new eyes, it seemed, opened anew to the ways he was different. Different. Read: human. So very, very human. He watched the way superspeed or strength or flight or whatever aided those around him as they worked hard to protect Sokovia and when he looked at himself critically, he found himself lacking. It wasn’t the first time he wondered why he was there, exactly, but it stung a little more after time away.

He knew it was all about riding out this current wave of shame, though, so he found himself heading to the training room to find someone to maybe build him up. Or beat him down. Either way, it was some way to get those racing thoughts to stop.

He wasn’t disappointed. “Dinah!” he called, smile spreading across his face. “You got time to put this guy through his paces?” 

@blackcanaryrising

[f4lc0n]

kalelrising​:

“Seeing as I spent the last four years feeling like shit, I would say that I did for a while.” Clark shot back at Sam, not really happy to be trying to explain himself yet again to someone, but that’s how it was now he was splitting his time between here and his farm out in the countryside. 

“Macbeth. There’s not many books around here but Macbeth is always a fun one.” He held it up then placed it back on his lap. “Well, not many of interest to me, someone else might like the Twilight book I found for example. Do you like Twilight, Sam?” It was hard to ask that with a straight face but Clark couldn’t stand having tension lingering for too long.

...

Sam frowned but nodded. He could respect, even begrudgingly, a guy who was aware of his own dumb decision. At least he knew it was dumb. Sam didn’t make it his mission to kick a guy already down, even if the guy had been Superman. So it helped that Clark was already holding himself down, holding his own feet to the fire of his decision to sign the Accords.

He let out a laugh at the revelation that he was reading Macbeth. “Little cliche there, isn’t it? All the unchecked power and guilt in that play?” He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s the one right?” When Clark brought up Twilight, though, Sam found himself surprised. The sarcasm that laced his words beckoned to Sam like a beacon, and he found himself unable to resist firing back. “Nah, I have too many pale guys who can’t die if their lives depended on it in my life. Twilight would send me over my quota.” He thought fondly of Steve and Bucky (though he wouldn’t admit that fondness to Bucky, fuck no), wondering where the hell they were, anyway.

He tilted his head. “Can I ask you something?” Sam asked. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here any chance I got, all the emotional beatings you get from us.” He had no problem including himself; it was the truth. “What makes you come back and take it?

[f4lc0n]

riseofthewitch​:

“I agree,” she said warmly. She was trying to show her best face for Sam’s arrival even if things were hard lately. The saving grace of it all was Sokovia. Have both her physical and emotional homes in the same place was grounding. It made it easier to feel like she could manage things sometimes. “And Sarah and the boys were happy to see you I’m sure.”

“I am witchy stuff,” she teased him. She wrapped her fingers around his and kept up her mischief. “Close your eyes, Sam Wilson.”

She didn’t give any other warning while her eyes turned red and she relocated them through space in a way that felt like it didn’t belong to the concept of location. They were in the new place because she told the world they were and it rushed to agree with her. It was weird to explain and she didn’t really understand it. It was what it was. In a way it made her feel intangible. She remembered Mama’s teachings about ‘I am’. They didn’t call God by a name and they didn’t even write it down fully sometimes because it just was. Now she felt like she understood that feeling but she didn’t know if she was allowed to sympathize with God. It was a long time since she looked at a Torah and it was definitely too heavy to speak aloud after hitting Sam with the world moving around him. She focused on him instead. “I have learned a lot of new tricks in your absence.”

...

Sam slowly shut his eyes, keeping one eye open just a sliver to show Wanda he was watching her closely until he shut that one, too. He and Wanda both knew that people treated her with fear, but he found himself trusting herself a long time ago and hadn’t stopped. She’d come a long way, forming relationships and trust, and he was thrilled to be apart of that, especially knowing some of what she’d gone through.

It didn’t hurt that hurtling through time and space like she did just then felt like a freefall, the most delicious of a plane jump, Sam’s favorite feeling in the world. It felt different, of course, just a little more of a squeeze, and he was tethered to a witch, not a parachute, but the adrenaline rush with the same. It hit his veins like nothing else, his favorite feeling in the world.

“Shit, apparently you did.” 

When the spinning stopped, when the world came back to them, Sam focused on Wanda. “So, that wasn’t someones,” he noted. “If that’s the prelude, transportation and all that...what’ve you got up your sleeve for the main event here?”

[f4lc0n]

Wanted Plots/Threads

(Below the Cut) 

1. Let’s Fight!: Sam feels restless after coming back from his latest mission. The best way to counteract that? Pushing himself, perhaps past his own limits. Your character is, put simply, more powerful than Sam, but agrees to push with him. Whether your character is reluctant, curious about this bird man’s reasoning for the push, eager for the chance to find an Avenger flat on his back, or something else entirely...that’s up to you and your character. Dinah

2. Broken Down: Even heroes have vehicle trouble. Let’s get Sam and your character broken down on the side of the road somehow. My selfish reasoning for this thread? Showoff Sam’s tech skills. He knows his shit. My less selfish reasoning? Maybe it was an attack, connecting to a larger game plot. Maybe your character is watching over their shoulder for something that seems connected to this. Who knows! But what I do know is that our characters can connect, whether happily or in spite of themselves or trading barbs back and forth, as they work on getting themselves where they need to go. Ollie

3. Nightmare Pals: Nightmares make for pacing around the Mousehole. Let’s meet up. (Bonus points for connecting over nightmares in general) (The most bonus points for having weird connections in the nightmares themselves--similiar trauma? Too similar to be a coincidence? We can talk it out) (The most most most bonus points for the next dreams being about kissing) (JUST KIDDING) (Haha unless....) (No, I’m serious, I’m kidding.) So many of y’all have nightmares, huh?

4. Secret Keeper: This is me offering Sam up, full stop. Does your character have something they don’t want others to know? Cool, what if Sam found out about it and then we can be friends/be forced to trust each other. 

5. Let’s Relax: Also me offering Sam up. While I’m so not okay with Sam being cast aside as the team therapist in some interpretations of his character, I do think he knows he has a lot to offer in terms of emotional regulation and crisis intervention. He wouldn’t just turn it off, plus it’s something he’s deftly trained in and feels strongly about. (Plus, helping others helps him ignore his own, I mean what? Who said that?) Your character has some emotion that’s really holding them back--anger, racing thoughts, troubling memories, whatever. Let’s talk about it. 

[f4lc0n]

riseofthewitch​:

“I’ve missed you. How was America? Your sister and her children?” He needed to see his family. No one understood that better than her. If she had a family at the time she would have asked to go see them too. She had one now though. She could hear them gurgling in their naps where she had put them in their cribs. 

He looked at her and she tried not to look as exhausted as everyone said she looked. “Are you sure?” she asked. “There’s a lot to tell you. Come with me to the fourth floor.” She couldn’t leave her sons alone very long. “I have someone I want you to meet. Two someones.” 

She held out her hand for him to take it. If he took it then she would teleport them. That was a new skill of hers he could experience.

...

Sam smiled with the question. It hadn’t been an easy decision to visit his family in the midst of madness and missions, one that was made with a generous helping of encouragement from those he trusted. But it was a decision he couldn’t regret, remembering the small sliver of peace and normalcy he’d found throughout his days there. “They’re good. It felt good being there. Little taste of home? Nothing like it.” 

When Wanda asked him about meeting two someones, Sam heard a tinge of mischief, one that made him wonder if this wasn’t just going to be two more heroes or refugees seeking shelter. That this was going to be something different. Especially since it was Wanda. “Okay...” he said slowly, reaching out his hand for hers. “Is it witchy stuff?”

It was. He could guess that much. Sam found himself holding his breath.

[f4lc0n]

kalelrising​:

…

Clark had seen that look shot at him so many time over the last few months, he had become quite used to it, some day though… he hoped that people would look up to Superman again but for now, this will do. 

He raised an eyebrow at the passive aggressive response but just let it roll off his back. “It’s a Clark Kent special and if it makes you feel any better at all, I felt like shit the second the pen touched the papers. I made a mistake and now I’m paying for it so I understand your current attitude towards me.”

...

“That’s cool,” Sam said, unwilling to be apart of whatever pity party the guy was throwing himself. “Sometimes, maybe you should feel like shit. At least for a while.” What Sam could say, and what Sam didn’t say, was that he could think of a million things that he also felt like shit about as soon as he did it. As soon as he lifted off. As soon as he landed. Being a pawn in a high-security, top-secret military programs for the great United States didn’t come without its share of major fucking moral injury. 

But the healing was part of the process. So maybe Clark could get there. Was getting there, even. In any case, Sam could appreciate someone who isn’t automatically defensive. 

He looked to the book. “What’re you reading on your self-improvement journey there?”

[f4lc0n]

riseofthewitch​:

Wanda had felt him before he touched down and it gave her enough time to secure her children up in her room safe from anyone who might harm them before she ran down the stairs, skipping steps as she went. She was there to meet Sam when he landed and her smile was huge. In the years on the run she had learned to love Sam for his deep compassion and desire to help people. He had recognized so much pain in her after her twin’s death and the loss of Sokovia. Just like Steve and Clint, he wanted to help her and he even seemed to know how.

“Sam,” she said warmly while she darted forward to wrap her arms around his waist under the Falcon’s wings. “You’re back!”

Sam felt his smile bloom easily at the sight of Wanda. Not even necessarily her, but her smile made something settle in him, some relief that she was finding joy in the midst of her life, always marked by some chaos. He figured, since it was Wanda, there was probably something sharp around the edges of that joy, but he took her smile wholesale. He also took her hug.

“Hey, Wanda,” he smiled, holding her close. “Thanks for the welcome.”

He stepped back and studied her before inwardly reminding himself that he couldn’t just check Wanda for physical signs of brokenness underneath the surface. That hers was inner, just like his, if he gets honest about it. So he just kept smiling. “Gonna catch me up on you?”

[f4lc0n]

kalelrising​:

...

“If you call one guy sitting out here with a book with welcoming committee then sue.” Clark shrugged one shoulder and eyed the wings on his back. “Ever thought about what it might be like to fly without those? Like, it came naturally?” He set his book aside, crossed one leg over the other and stayed where he was, casually lounging under a tree on the grounds. 

Clark knew that Sam knew exactly who he was, signing the accords had outed his actual name too so there was no escape, Clark Kent could no longer hide. But that’s fine, he will learn to adjust. 

[f4lc0n]

kalelrising​:

“If you call one guy sitting out here with a book with welcoming committee then sue.” Clark shrugged one shoulder and eyed the wings on his back. “Ever thought about what it might be like to fly without those? Like, it came naturally?” He set his book aside, crossed one leg over the other and stayed where he was, casually lounging under a tree on the grounds. 

Clark knew that Sam knew exactly who he was, signing the accords had outed his actual name too so there was no escape, Clark Kent could no longer hide. But that’s fine, he will learn to adjust. 

Sam lifted the goggles from his face to confirm what he’d suspected: that Clark Kent, actual Superman, was the one talking to him. There was a fine line here. A few years ago, no matter what he’d done or didn’t do for the sake of humanity, Sam would’ve been starstruck, absolutely enamored by his presence. Now, though, with all he’d seen? With all Sam had done and fought for?

Now he could barely hide his disdain.

“That depends,” he said, lifting his chin. “Would the power of flight make me sign a bunch of bullshit policy that ends up endangering people? Or is that just a Clark Kent special?”

[f4lc0n]

OPEN

It didn't hit Sam that this was all happening, that his brief respite from the goings-on in Sokovia was over, until he dropped out of the plane a few dozen miles away. His wings took him the rest of the way, dipping in and out of the cloudline as he got closer. A respite it'd been, no matter the stress of a solo mission. But now it was time to come back, face the music and the work and whatever else he'd missed.

Louisiana seemed farther and farther away as he dropped down towards the Mousehole. It'd been beautiful, to spend even a sliver of time with his family, kept secret by his cover story of a mission. He felt the familiar prickling telling him to stay, be there, but he already had a call. And it was back in Sokovia.

When his feet hit the ground, he already missed the air. But with a sigh and a lungful of that crisp air, he turned to greet whoever was waiting.

"We have a welcome back committee now?" he said.

[f4lc0n]

Sam Wilson || "The Falcon || Intro

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Sam Wilson/Falcon

FACECLAIM: Anthony Mackie

AFFILIATIONS: Nomads

AGE (physical age as well, if different): Let’s say a cool 35

SPECIES (human, metahuman, alien, etc): Human

IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC? Public

IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION? Up until a few years ago, Sam had been a counselor at a VA Medical Center. Currently, that’s behind him. 

DOES YOUR CHARACTER LIVE IN THE MOUSEHOLE? IF SO, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES? If Sam is away from his home, from his family in the states, which  he is right now–he’s going to want to know he’s making a difference. He’s got a range of skills, from speaking multiple languages to flight experience, as well as his civilian training as a counselor. In the Mousehole, he’d probably want to be alongside Steve especially in refugee outreach, but more likely sees his skills as necessary in counseling and piloting. It seems like those latter two may be his niche.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM:

Positives:

Collaborative: Sam is a wingman in the deepest sense imaginable. He looks out for people he feels he can trust and then works with them to the ends of the earth. If he finds a group he can trust, even better. He wants to hatch a plan with smart people and stick to it. He was raised in deep community, with a wide network of people he could count on and who counted on him. That’s how he likes to live, if possible: in cooperation with others, with a give-and-take of resources. 

Emotionally grounded: Your problems are your problems, not necessarily Sam Wilson’s problems. While he can listen, Sam has a rational detachment from someone else’s angst, however looming it can be.  It’s a skill he especially honed while in social work, but it’s one he already had fairly naturally. He’ll stand up for anyone who has a compelling case and needs an advocate, but in personal matters, he’s not going to get caught up in someone else’s anger or anxieties.He has plenty of his own. 

Loyal: If Sam trusts someone, he’s in with them. And that trust comes just as much from gut feeling as it does when he sees action. His loyalty has landed him in loving hands and horrific sadness  in equal measures, if he had to estimate. It’s not easy to stake loyalty until death and then enter professions in which death is almost expected. His loyalty–to his family, his wingman Riley, and now to the Nomads, particularly Steve–has taken him away from people he loves, into dangerous warzones, and plunged him into grief more times he can count. 

Negatives:

Stubborn: Sam’s smart as hell and he knows it. Moreover, he doesn’t take too kindly to people speaking over him, especially people he perceives as unworthy of respect. His respect has to be earned, and until it is, Sam will do anything but cooperate. If he doesn’t feel like a move is right, especially when it’s planned by someone he doesn’t trust, he simply won’t do it. That stretches from mission plans right down into moving his seat up. It takes some time for him.

Private: Did anyone know Sam had a sister until extremely recently? No, and he likes it that way. He’s seen the world destroy people and he loves too hard to let that destruction extend to innocent people like his civilian family and friends. He won’t be the first one offering information, but he certainly appreciates a well-intentioned effort to know him, if people ask. 

Reluctant to strike: The very act of preserving life is important to Sam, and that can be dangerous in a world where one’s life can hang in the balance of one hesitation. This can put him at odds with others in a group, who have very different ideas about how to handle something, especially when danger looms. While Sam may say about himself that this all goes back to cooperation and collaboration, one needs to wonder if it’s really a hindrance and a reluctance to call a spade a spade sometimes. 

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: I’ll go with what MCU Sam says: “I do what [Steve] does, just slower.” And even then, it’s questionable if he’s really slower. Sam has enough special training to feel confident jumping out of buildings and into helicopters. He’s good to go if he’s got his wings. 

WEAKNESSES: He’s very, very human. He gets hurt. He gets tired. He can’t heal as quickly. All that pesky, human stuff. He also has a family…while Sam wouldn’t classify that as a weakness, his enemies certainly would. He has people he wants to protect very badly, which can be exploited if he isn’t careful. 

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA?

Sam is here because Captain America asked for his help. Pure and simple. After his discharge from the Air Force, he struggled to find a place where he belonged, where he made a difference as much as he felt he was making when he was in the Falcon program. When he met Steve, when Sam saw there was something he could do…he thought about all the times that Sarah or his therapist mentioned that maybe he should look for something to do, look for some way to stay active and do something he finds meaningful. They probably didn’t mean going on the run and spending his life with a bunch of superpowered folks in a war-torn area of the world, but hey. Where Steve goes, Sam is going.

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT?

Absolutely not. Sam is rightfully distrustful of the government having control over people’s activities. Even before he met Steve, Sam was formed in a rural community of mainly people of color; his community is not one that takes kindly or trustful of the government’s control. Add in experience of working in Veterans Affairs, Sam would know firsthand the dismal funding and help that’s available to veterans, who are supposed to be the government’s first concern. That’s all personal. Then, since meeting Steve and becoming involved officially in opposing the Accords, Sam’s only doubled down. Now, it’s for his protection and others’ he knows and cares about personally. Yes, even Barnes, as annoying as he can be personally. 

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER:

Sam is very introverted, which can be a surprise to some. While it’s been in his best interest to be outgoing and social, that’s all conditioning. The truth is that he needs time to recharge, to remind himself who Sam is, apart from others. 

He is a cat person to the max. Stray cats around Sokovia? He knows about them already, no problem. If he had more time, he’d love to adopt one, but for now, he drops scraps from food when he can.

He is two years older than his sister Sarah, and he was born three years after his brother Gideon. Gideon died in an accident while Sam was deployed overseas, actively on a mission. Because of the sensitive nature of his work, he wasn’t told until the mission was completed, which meant he missed the window to go on leave and attend services. When he was able to go, Riley went with him, and he, Sam, and Sarah had a mini service for him. The way he’d like to be celebrated. Which was passing a bottle of his favorite whiskey between them and sharing stories until they cried laughing and then just plain cried. 

Speaking of Riley. Riley. Sam’s wingman, his right-hand man, his–his–his–,words tend to fail when it comes to describing what Riley was and was not to Sam. He wonders, sometimes, if he can get away with never making it totally clear. If Steve understood enough when they connected over the shared losses of Riley and Bucky. If that was enough. If Steve understands. He doesn’t know. What he does know is that sometimes, that grief is as painful still as it was in the immediate aftermath of losing him. 

CHARACTER BIO —

Sam Wilson was born to Paul and Darlene Wilson in Delacroix, Louisiana. He was three years behind his older brother Gideon and, in two years, joined by his younger sister, Sarah. The Wilsons were pretty well-known, even in the small community. Paul and Darlene ran a seafood business from their own boat, and Paul was a deacon in the local church, meaning the kids needed to mind themselves at all times–no exceptions. And Sam did. He was a good kid, rising above the middle child expectations to be noticed, always. His teachers knew him as a kid who would stick up for the little guy, even if that little guy was himself. He excelled from academics to friendships to sports to–you fucking name it, and Sam Wilson was in the yearbook photo. 

When Sam lost his dad in high school, just a few months away from going away to college, he wondered if it’d be better to stick around. It was Gideon who set him straight, who put big hands on his shoulders and said, fuck that, you’re getting out. While Sam had made a name for himself in the small community, it was time for him to make a name for himself outside of it, too, and Gideon was the one who moved back home to take care of their mom and make sure Sarah was okay, too. Sam was allowed to go off to college, to get all the language skills he needed to do what he really wanted to do. To put into motion the plan he and his dad had dreamed about together:

The Air Force. God, Sam loved it. There was the usual bullshit; the military was not the kindest place for a Black man who couldn’t keep his eyes from lingering, just sometimes, on his wingman. But he hadn’t thrived in rural Louisiana for nothing; Sam knew how to play that game well. He thrived, rising in rank and security clearance until he found himself flying with falcon wings, the EXO Falcon program. He was in the sky when Gideon died back in Louisiana. He was in the sky when his mother died, too, later, after a long illness. He was in the sky when Riley died, too. That was the only one he saw with his own two eyes. 

The immensity of grief wrapped up in the wings, taking him away from his family and his friends and Riley, was almost enough to weigh them down. To ground him, quite literally. But there was a thrill in them, too, something impossible to ignore. Something that kept him hiding the wings in his DC apartment after his honorable discharge. Something that kept him going home with them to fly around out back near the docks when he visited Sarah. Something that kept Sam going, beyond the value he found post-service as a counselor at the VA. It was certainly there, that excitement, though it felt watered down as time passed.

By the mid-2010s, he had wondered if the thrill of the wings were behind him. If perhaps he was just a guy, a civilian with routines that kept him tied down to the ground. Maybe he’d had enough adventures, enough grief, too, to last him a lifetime. Maybe he could just wake up, brew his coffee, go on his routine runs, and head back home for his post-run orange juice every day.

Then he got lapped by Steve Rogers. Then he got lapped again. Then he got–yeah, that whole thing. 

Steve Rogers reminded Sam what it felt like to have adrenaline pump through his veins instead of peace, and Sam sometimes felt drunk on it. It was more of a direct purpose than he’d felt since Riley was alive and there was nothing but them and their missions, and Sam had missed it. While he wasn’t as confident as Steve was in the success of their mission (look, Barnes was a nasty motherfucker when he was out of his mind, okay?), it was still the honor of his life to be at Steve’s side when he woke up in that hospital. And it was still the honor of his life to be trusted to track down Barnes when he fucked off to God-knew-where.

The Accords brought all those things to a head. Sam watched as Steve got more reckless and more angry, as Natasha signed them out of her fear, as his own hands were placed in handcuffs and hauled off to the Raft. While plenty has happened since then, there’s a lotta wounds still fresh. Sokovia, however, needs their help. And Sam’s always ready to put those emotions aside for a mission.

Still, he wonders. How much longer can he put those emotions to the side? When he’s, once again, taken away from his family here…how can he remain grounded in his own identity? Can he share that with anyone here? From even his childhood, Sam Wilson has been a good boy. A good man. But lately he’s been wondering who can see past that label to the real him, the one that grieves, the one that fears, the one that doesn’t heal too quickly–physically and otherwise. 

But he’ll try. Because Sam isn’t the man who hesitates. Sam is the man who opens the door wider and welcomes anyone into his house, even two avengers who tell him everyone they know is trying to kill them. Though his house isn’t his heart. That’s a much more private place.  

Relevant Personality Types:

ENFP, "The Campaigner"

Enneagram 9w1, "The Negotiator"

Libra Sun, Leo Moon, Virgo Rising