( sam wilson psls )

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[experienceandpatience]

[Sam Wilson is an intriguing man, he would say. Fundamentally, he disagrees with his methods. He sees too much of an idealist in him -- he sees it in the way he wants to believe Karli could ever be changed from a symbol of supremacy, of fear and pain and destruction she leaves in her wake.

Perhaps a part of him can understand why Steve Rogers chose him, however ill-thought out it was to put such a weight on the man's shoulders without question. Sam is a good man. If Zemo didn't disagree with putting humans on pedestals, making them near deities, he may have agreed with Rogers that Sam was what Captain America needed to be.

And on a more selfish level, Zemo both respects and detests the way the man can see through him so easily. Zemo isn't accustomed to being exposed, to being called out so bluntly. Yet, here he is anyway, seeking out the man's company because he enjoys it and because-- well, what choice does Sam truly have? He's a captive audience. He can't leave Zemo alone, just in case he pulls a disappearing act.

Not that Zemo is planning it at the moment. No, the most he's planning is refilling the glass of scotch he poured Sam and then topping off his own.]

I must admit, Sam-- [He gives an easy grin to the other.] Your company is... captivating when you are not giving me those withering looks.

[wingmans]

[ it's hard not to give in and provide zemo with a withering look. the whole mess with the sokovia accords and framing bucky doesn't win zemo any points. he gets that the system is not the most malleable in being heard. that it is overly bureaucratic, that it doesn't care about the disenfranchised.

hell, sam has plenty of those stories. but when you take other people's lives in a crusade, it no longer feels like one. it just feels like vengeance. he can feel for that. the pulse of anger and justice. but sam's always been fair.

to all, except himself, sometimes. he takes the drink surreptitiously, giving the scotch a sip. ]

Must be a high bar, considering the company you keep.

[ or a low one. ]

[experienceandpatience]

I haven't kept much company at all, in truth. Solitary confinement doesn't lend itself to it very.

[He gives a soft, teasing smile as he brings up his own glass for a deep drink from it.]

Then again, I suppose you know what that is like. [He did have a short stay on The Raft, didn't he?]

[wingmans]

Oh, I had company there. I guess you could call it a perk.

[ this is delivered in the driest of tones. ]

Besides, I wasn't speaking about your time in prison. I'm sure you've rubbed enough elbows as a baron.

[ both socially, and apparently, criminally, after the stint in madripoor. ]

[experienceandpatience]

There were social obligations, of course. Some more enjoyable than others.

[He gives a shrug of his shoulders.]

But that feels like another lifetime at this point.

[wingmans]

[ yeah. it's hard to separate things from before and after the snap. they feel like two completely different points in time. ]

I guess what matters if what you make of this lifetime.

[experienceandpatience]

Careful, Sam.

[There's a brief smile.]

That almost implies... optimism, perhaps, that I have anything to make of this lifetime.

[wingmans]

[ sam barks a short laugh. ]

What, you're not optimistic? That's a first.

[experienceandpatience]

[He lets out a short, amused huff as he brings up his glass for another drink.]

You are certainly able to be positive enough for the both of us.

[wingmans]

That's kind of my superpower.

[ holding onto the good while the rest goes to pieces. ]

[experienceandpatience]

Is that one you've had your whole life or is it one a skill you learned later?

[He's inclined to think Sam has always wanted to see the good - in others, in everything around him. He seems the type.]

[wingmans]

It's not something anyone's born with. You have to encourage it. Nurture. It's what my folks did.

[ even when their situation was bad or poor, they still looked out for people who struggled. who had less. ]

[experienceandpatience]

It's a commendable trait.

[He pauses.]

And for what it is worth, I do hope it isn't one that changes in you.

[metalarm]

[It isn't one of the local children he's being approached by -- Bucky knows that right off the bat. The footsteps are too heavy for the light tread of tiny feet and there aren't any giggles or whispers traded amongst friends as there usually is when the kids are coming around to play around.

It isn't Ayo. It isn't Shuri, or the King himself gracing him with a visit or potential call to arms. When he turns around, he spies the other... broken soldier in the village. He's heard enough about him since he came off the ice, whispers around. He's not sure if he appreciates the potential company or not, really, but it's getting late enough in the day that the animals are starting to wind down. There's not much work to keep him busy. He has no excuse to really turn away from him or send him away.

But he might be doing the staring thing, which can be just as uncomfortable.]

[scarcastically]

[ they needed erik away from the capital for the while, t'challa has said. just enough time to spin a good story to the public about the long-lost prince returning home. erik wasn't too fond of the idea of being another spun tale in wakanda's lost history of spinning stories and burying truths, but he did at least trust t'challa do it right.

but he can't help frowning a little at the arrival of barnes. he was briefed on it but it's still a little grating. he spent years trying to get in and barnes waltzes in, all sad white boy privilege. not exactly a ringing endorsement in erik's book. ]

Got a problem, Barnes?

[metalarm]

[It felt more like-- not pity, really, but maybe mercy from T'Challa to even be allowed this reprieve in Wakanda. And a good idea, with how easily Zemo had manipulated him with just the right words. It hadn't felt like a privilege, to offer to go back to sleep until he wasn't a potential living weapon to be activated and used for worse means than a mission report.

But it does feel like a privilege to be living out here in the first taste of peace he's known in more years than he cares to think about. Something he's not sure he really deserves, at the end of the day.

There's a drawn out silence before he finally gives a short shake of his head no.]

Just wasn't expecting a visitor.

[scarcastically]

[ erik can't help a little scoff at that. ]

Buddy, I'm pretty sure you're the unexpected one to land up in fucking Wakanda.

[metalarm]

[His eyes narrow briefly, thoughtfully.]

I can't argue that.

[But it doesn't sound like Erik was any more expected either, from what he understands.]

[scarcastically]

Didn't think so.

[ erik eyes him warily. ]

How'd you lose the arm?

[metalarm]

[That has him pausing again. He wonders how much T'Challa's told on him, how much Erik knows about him.]

In a fight. A while ago.

[scarcastically]

Must've been recent. I'm assuming it ain't the UN nonsense.

[ yeah, erik keeps tabs. he'd be a poor black ops operative if he wasn't in the know. ]

[metalarm]

Why are you so curious?

[There's a muscle that twitches in his jaw as he finally looks away.]

[scarcastically]

[ erik shrugs, nonchalant. if it wasn't for his gait, lithe and lean, he might have bucky fooled. ]

It's not like we have much else to do here. What, afraid of a little Q and A?

[metalarm]

There are just better conversationalists around here than me.

[He looks back at Erik.]

Maybe I don't want to bore you.

[scarcastically]

[ erik gives a little snort. ]

I dunno if this is a self-esteem thing, but we're basically the only ones here. Aren't you layin' it on a little thick?