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» Two birds of a feather, @[ELE VEN BINENBAUM]
SAM WILSON
 Posted: Mar 8 2017, 01:55 AM
Quote
HUMAN
Thirty-Two
Director of the VA
Sam is Offline




There was something to be said about being busy. Sam Wilson could definitely never complain about being bored, that was for sure. Wake up, run with Steve, go to work, work late, go to the gym, eat dinner, go home, start over. The VA had been busy lately, which was typically a blessing and a curse. After all, it meant he was doing something right to keep it running, but at the same time…It was bittersweet that so many people needed help. That men and women were put into situations that required this kind of help.

Because of being swamped at work he hadn’t really had the opportunity to take the wings out for a spin, and he was itching to get some fresh air and relaxation. He didn’t really need to play vigilante that day; now that his alias was blown, people recognized him, and he was not really in the mood to entertain people that day. He had way too much on his mind.

Sam had plenty of acquaintances but only a few that he considered good friends. Of those, Steve was probably the best. He wasn’t sure if Steve considered him the same, which was fine, Sam was an easy going kind of guy whose only expectations out of friendship were the occasional meal and the knowledge that he was there.

He was also the kind of person who worried about his friends, regardless of how close he was to them. Lately, he was working on helping Steve with recovering Ash among a few other things, and while he did what he could, he could only help so much if Steve didn’t tell him how he was needed. Sam was content knowing that Steve knew he was around to call if he needed a hand or face to beat up.

Since his schedule was clear, he knew it was just the right time to de-stress. To just find a secluded place and just fly away his stress. Work was non-stop, and technically he should be there to meet some appointments but he had to take a break.

He found himself a quiet area in a park just on the edge of town, and it was early on a weekday so most were in school or at work. He set his coffee and blanket on the ground and zipped up his jacket, knowing that the faster he flew the icier the air would be. Icy but fresh. Clean. Just what he needed. it was was a quick set up to get the wings and equipment on, and as he felt the width of the wings expand he let out a sigh.

Now this was familiar territory. Everything else was new, uncharted but this…He knew these wings, and he knew the open air, and he knew the feeling of the wind on his face. As he took off in a spiral straight toward the sky, he let out a joyful whoop.

He let himself nosedive toward the ground, his wings tucked in around his body as he got speed. At the last second he spread them out and barely grazed the grass as he took off back towards the open sky. He went about these tricks, not just for fun but for practice. He familiarized himself very closely with the old wings out in combat and he couldn’t grow stale especially with the new wings courtesy of Stark Industries.

He loved the upgrades of the wings, the aerodynamics just off the hook. But the wings he had on - Riley’s wings - were a part of him. These were the ones he took out when he was on his own, practicing, reliving. It was like Riley was with him, even though that wasn’t possible, but he felt Riley in the memory of the many times they crashed and burned as they figured out how to fly, or in their missions, especially the last one.

The new wings were incredible, perfect down to every centimeter. He used them in combat, in training, and in basic do-gooding but this moment was for the old. When he flew like this he was distracted, caught up in the feeling and the exhilaration of the moment, which is one reason why he chose a quiet spot that wasn’t frequented by others, because he was pretty vulnerable to anyone out there.





Thank you SHANTEL for the template!!

--------------------
I'm gonna need you to raise your glass. I don't care what you put in it. Here's to nights that you can't take back. We live hard but we love to laugh. We all thought that we'd get rich fast. Hop the plane out for greener grass. Found out the green is cash. Don't compare to the friends that last. See, we won't forget where we came from. The city won't change us. We beat to the same drum. No, we won't forget where we came from. The city can't change us

We beat to the same drum
PMEmail
^
ELE VEN BINENBAUM
 Posted: May 23 2017, 11:51 PM
Quote
CHIMERA
twenty
student
ele is Offline


TOMORROW WILL BE KINDER.
IT'S TRUE, I'VE SEEN IT BEFORE.
1000 words.
tag: sam wilson.
song: tomorrow will be kinder - the secret sisters
In a weird way, Ele was happy.

Her beginnings, strange. Her life, full of trauma. Her current situation... well, some saw it as unprecedented. Others still thought it was wrong. After all, J had known her when she was young, and the only reason Ele had originally fixated on the man was because he had looked an awful lot like Doctor Jake. Young, lost, and profoundly vulnerable, she had tried to attach herself to Justin because he was the closest thing she had to familiarity—but then her mother had stepped into her life, and for the first time, she had known what it was like to be home. Really home.

J had fallen from being on the level of idol-worship to, well, just a person after that. A friend. He made her laugh, and he made her heart ache when he was hurting. He never judged her. He was protective of her, but he never tried to clip her wings in the name of keeping her safe. He was everything a friend should be.

And then... something more.

She refused to be introspective about it. It made her happy, to want and be wanted. To know she could, without a doubt, rely on J to do everything in his power to see to her own well-being without stifling her. To know there'd always be those arms to fall into. To know J, who embodied childhood innocence and wisdom behind his years... who was the bravest soul she knew... would be there. To wax poetic about him was easy. Others didn't see it. But she couldn't see anything else.

Even when his brain and body rebelled against him, she still saw him.

These days, she had fallen into a rhythm. School, work, be with her family (as she defined it: her mother, Maizy, the animals), be with J. There was precious little time for her to spend with the part of herself that made her so different from everyone else... but she was weirdly okay with that. She was no longer defined by what she was, but rather who she was. How she was connected to the world. What she had done.

So she was happy.

Still, every once in awhile, the itch returned. She knew if she didn't literally stretch her wings, they would become weak and sluggish from the disuse. One of her strongest childhood memories was of the frantic escape from "the white place", barely able to stay aloft as she leapt from a cliffside and into the night. She swore to herself she'd never be that helpless again.

It had been awful. Ele had plummeted, muscles screaming, hands and feet scrabbling in the empty air, before finally gaining control of herself... and then had to spend the night exhausted—but unable to sleep—in the town not twenty miles from the facility because she could fly no further. Nothing had quite compared to that endless night of waiting and praying, praying they wouldn't discover her, eating bird seed by the handful because there was nothing else to be had in the shed she hide in.

She had survived. She had made it out. And maybe things would never get that bad again, but if they did... well, she wanted to be ready for it. So she had to make it her business to squeeze that practice in, because while she enjoyed flying, there was so much she enjoyed about life that meant more than survival these days. It can get lonely up there, when everyone and everything you love is stuck on the ground.

After a quick nip to the Gulf and back again to get her blood pumping, there wasn't much else to do but ride the thermals. They were spotty today; anything that wasn't pavement still seemed to be trying to shrug off the bizarre winter they'd had, and even if the ground wasn't frozen, it certainly wasn't emitting the necessary heat. So she rode them as high as they'd go, and then fell into a slow, soaring dive that had her wings fully outstretched. Her wingspan was more than twice as tall as she was, but with where she was, only the randoms of the boonies and the bogs would see her shadow. She'd be long gone before they could even process it.

Still, despite her speed, she usually tried to avoid people. If she saw anything remotely larger than a fat seagull, she'd often drop into the trees for cover. This made sense if you considered that she was the only one who could really be up in the air with that dexterity and autonomy—she'd be hidden by the time anything else doubled back. But these days, well, apparently she wasn't the only one who could take to the skies...

Ele had fairly decent eyesight, all things considered, but her sense of hearing and sense of smell were completely average. At first, she just thought the shape approaching her general area was just a particularly large bird; she started decreasing her altitude anyway, but since it was off to her left and far away, she wasn't rushing to get under the treeline. But then it dawned on her that, a) there was an awful lot of noise accompanying that bird, and b) that would be one funny-looking bird if it was. There were too many straight lines and geometric shapes, and glinting... metal? But not enough of any of the aforementioned to be a plane. So that left Superman. Or something. Someone.

She could be brave. Or she could be smart. They overlapped a little, but... well, there was no real merit to solving this mystery if she didn't have to. So she shifted her flight feathers to drop her quickly towards the earth, even though the arc of her descent took her directly beneath the very thing she was trying to avoid. She didn't want to land, no—just get some speed and distance.
A brighter day is coming my way. Tomorrow will be kinder.

--------------------

BLACKBIRD SINGING IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT, TAKE THESE BROKEN WINGS AND LEARN TO FLY. ALL YOUR LIFE, YOU WERE ONLY WAITING FOR THIS
MOMENT TO ARISE
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^
SAM WILSON
 Posted: Oct 9 2017, 10:51 PM
Quote
HUMAN
Thirty-Two
Director of the VA
Sam is Offline




When Sam flew just to fly, it was an opportunity to just think, reflect, and let the memories take over. It was as if being in the sky opened up a portal that brought Riley back, or at least the memories of him anyway. From the sound of the wings opening up to dirt flying up upon landing...it was a complete experience. Working in the VA, he heard all sorts of stories of soldiers reliving their time. A simple sound could take them back, and while it was generally not a happy experience to have for many, there were certain memories that Sam welcomed.

Sam's time in active duty was the time that he felt most alive. The thrill of jumping out of the planes, entrusting his life to his comrades, being part of a grand plan to help people. Ever since he left the field and moved into an office, he'd felt like something was missing. That his life was now incomplete. And it was; there was a hole in his life where Riley used to be. The kind of hole that couldn't be filled no matter what new friends or even family came into your life.

When Sam had the wings out - Riley's wings, specifically - that hole seemed slightly less empty. In the sky he had the wind and the fresh air, the birds and the clouds. Everyone had their happy place, and this was Sam's.

He used to have to be careful with the wings and try not to be seen. He didn't want his employer (i.e. the government) to think he was mishandling the equipment, and didn't want some trigger-happy citizens to think he was something worth hunting or fearing. That all changed when the newspaper caught news of his name and identity, and now he's no longer anonymous. Colonel Rhodes was able to help him keep Riley's wings from being taken from him, but he was still wary that it could happen, so he still tried to lay low.

These wings were far less advanced than his new wings that Tony had made him, but they still had some high-tech features. His goggles were infrared, so he was able to see the heat signatures of things around him. Birds, squirrels down below, people in the distance...So he was a bit surprised to see a shape soar below him briefly that he had never seen before.

It appeared to be a large bird with a large wing span, but the shape of the body of the bird...Wasn't very birdlike. He was curious-did Tony have other wings that he was taunting him with now? Was it a drone? A new bird he had never seen before? He angled himself and circled back to the general area he saw the shape, following the traces of red he could see through the goggles.

...Yeah, definitely not a bird. He had a few options here. He flew more than just for fun, he flew to protect New Orleans or to back Steve up when needed. This could be a friend or it could be a foe, and depending on what his next move was he'd find out real quick.

He sighed softly. He was going to take the "hope it's a friend" tactic and hope he wasn't wrong. He folded his wings several feet above the ground where he saw the figure and landed with a soft thud, knees bent. He pushed the goggles up, handicapping himself a bit but hoping it would be a sign of good faith that he wasn't doing anyone any harm.

He had a sense that someone was around, watching. He had heard the soft sound of something-someone?-landing in a tree not far. There was no sign of attack thus far, so he leaned his back against a large tree and whistled a tune softly. "I'm not gonna hurt you, whoever you are. I'll stay right here, hands visible." He didn't add that he hoped whoever it was didn't hurt him, but he was staying positive. He held out his hands and waited, hoping whoever it was would accept his peace offering. He was curious now.





Thank you SHANTEL for the template!!






--------------------
I'm gonna need you to raise your glass. I don't care what you put in it. Here's to nights that you can't take back. We live hard but we love to laugh. We all thought that we'd get rich fast. Hop the plane out for greener grass. Found out the green is cash. Don't compare to the friends that last. See, we won't forget where we came from. The city won't change us. We beat to the same drum. No, we won't forget where we came from. The city can't change us

We beat to the same drum
PMEmail
^
ELE VEN BINENBAUM
 Posted: Nov 27 2017, 01:32 AM
Quote
CHIMERA
twenty
student
ele is Offline


TOMORROW WILL BE KINDER.
IT'S TRUE, I'VE SEEN IT BEFORE.
812 words.
tag: sam wilson.
song: tomorrow will be kinder - the secret sisters
The trees never offered the smoothest landing, but Ele had long since gotten the hang of catching herself in the branches rather than simply crashing into them and hoping for the best. Her feet, which were adorned with well-worn ballet flats, touched the unpredictable wooden perch first; she dropped into a squat then, and dug fingers into the bark. Since such a position necessitated balance she didn’t always have, she rocked backwards and let her feet fall free—they touched the branch below and she dropped again, bear-hugging this thicker, stronger outcropping to finally secure a view that didn’t risk her landing on the roots, head-first, because of a stupid miscalculation.

The maneuver had gotten more graceful over time, but that wasn’t to say she managed it with any degree of stealth. Most of the local native winged-folk took off in a cawing mess, chittering their dissatisfaction her way as they flew off. But since the trees offered cover (and she was at least damn good at hiding, given how crucial it had been to her childhood survival), it didn’t seem like the other flyer knew where she had gone down. She liked that. He couldn’t see her from above, and tracking her from the ground would be tough in the foliage. Hopefully.

Since she wasn’t much for the whole “sitting duck” schtick (pun intended?), Ele began to shimmy down the trunk of the tree, letting herself drop the last couple feet with wings slightly extended for a cushioned landing. They folded back up neatly against her back once she was on the ground—her body had natural depressions on either side of her spine to allow so she began to pull her sweatshirt from her waist to cover them with when a faint tune interrupted her.

She froze then, eyes wide and silent… listening. Waiting. Her nerves were immediately on a hair trigger because of it. Stay calm, Ele. Stay calm.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little upset with herself for screwing up one of her more basic rules. She was all rays and sunshine around people for the most part because she was just so happy to be alive, but even at nineteen years old, that still meant more than half her life had been dominated by the white place. That was eleven years of experimentation, imprisonment, being reduced to an object in the eyes unfeeling scientists who wanted to take her apart and put her back together again just because they could. And maybe she didn’t discuss that with anyone (who else could possibly relate?), but it drove a lot of her decisions in a fashion that—even though she understood it—all centered on one thing: keeping this precious life she’d found out of the hands of those who made her.

So forgive her for being jumpy… when this very well was one of her first adult encounters with a stranger.

But, let’s also be real. Jet-powered wings (best guess that that’s what they were, though she could be wrong) are a hell of a lot faster than flesh and blood… and Ele bet they could probably do a ground take-off without hesitation, which she couldn’t. She might win on maneuverability, but that wasn’t exactly something she wanted to put to the test sight-unseen. No. And yes, sure, she could run on foot, but… seriously? Seriously?

She’d have to face this head-on, because this time “escape” didn’t mean making a break for it or hunkering down in the crawlspace until the violence passed.

A little kernel of determination and fiercely bright light grew in her belly. She had never felt brave, so she didn’t recognize the emotion even as she straightened her shoulders and marched forward towards the sound of the voice. But she didn’t dislike it. It felt pretty good, actually, even with the ten million variables she didn’t have the numbers for. Sort of like she was taking the world by storm… even though, really, all this slender wisp of a young woman was doing was facing a stranger. But in a world where the shadows had once been real monsters, she had every right to be afraid.

She didn’t charge straight into the clearing. Instead, she stopped just short of the edge of the trees, and gave the unfamiliar face a once-over…. And then a twice-over, because unfamiliarity gave way to the pseudo-familiarity of the knowledge granted by the news. She had seen this guy before, or at least she thought she had. How many flying “superheroes” (really? Superheroes? Okay, to be fair, Ele, you’re a genetically modified human being with wings… is this really impossible?) could there be? But she kept her mouth shut. At least about that.

Who are you? Where did you come from?

Straight to the point.
A brighter day is coming my way. Tomorrow will be kinder.

--------------------

BLACKBIRD SINGING IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT, TAKE THESE BROKEN WINGS AND LEARN TO FLY. ALL YOUR LIFE, YOU WERE ONLY WAITING FOR THIS
MOMENT TO ARISE
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SAM WILSON
 Posted: Dec 7 2017, 06:22 PM
Quote
HUMAN
Thirty-Two
Director of the VA
Sam is Offline




Sam didn't know if he believed in the supernatural things. Werewolves, vampires, zombies...people with wings...But then, who was he to judge? His best friend might as well have been Superman. His best friend's best friends were a bit on the magical side themselves. So it would stand to reason that anything was possible, despite the logical explanations otherwise.

Whatever or whoever it was in the trees with him could be a danger, or not. There was no way of knowing without more details, and the only way to know that was by taking a leap of faith that he'd fly back out of here. So he stayed against the tree, a casual stance and easy-going expression on his face, though he was one flick away from taking flight at a moment's notice. That was the good thing about these wings - he and they had a very tight relationship.

He did not have supernatural hearing or any aid from his suit, but he did hear the rustling of the trees nearby, and he could sense the presence of someone else nearby. His attention turned upward as his guest interrupted the flock of birds in the trees, who took flight and resettled on a row of trees not too far away. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing on the sound of the voice that resounded from behind the cover of the treeline.

Sam had experienced his fair share of tough situations. From his missions in Afghanistan to rescuing Ash, he knew what it was to willingly walk (or fly) into the face of danger. But that was when he had least had an idea what to expect. He sees something else with wings in a place such as Seattle and it could be someone or something after him, or Steve, or it could just be his imagination. He had no clue what to expect from this...

His shoulders relaxed a little at the sound of the voice that interrupted the silence. Not because it was a girl - his experience with women lately have been that they could very easily kick his ass. He was relieved because if someone was a danger, they wouldn't start out by talking or asking questions.

He spoke quietly but firm, not seeming phased at all. "My name's Sam Wilson. You can call me Sam. United States Air Force paratrooper. Just taking my old wings out for some fresh air." He gestured toward his back where his wings lay dormant. "And you?" He wouldn't ask her to come out of the safety of the trees-even the best serial killers said the weren't dangerous.




Thank you SHANTEL for the template!!

--------------------
I'm gonna need you to raise your glass. I don't care what you put in it. Here's to nights that you can't take back. We live hard but we love to laugh. We all thought that we'd get rich fast. Hop the plane out for greener grass. Found out the green is cash. Don't compare to the friends that last. See, we won't forget where we came from. The city won't change us. We beat to the same drum. No, we won't forget where we came from. The city can't change us

We beat to the same drum
PMEmail
^
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