InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "TIKI TIKI BOB TIKI BOB BOB"

Captain Sam Wilson (captcommunist) wrote in snapthread,
@ 2019-05-20 22:50:00

Entry tags:

harley quinn (dceu), sam wilson (616)

Who: Sam Wilson and Harley Quinn
When: After Harley's post
Where: Through the dooooors
What: A hero and a villain walk into a bar...
Rating: Open. Language at a minimum.

There were really two things Sam's close encounter with the cosmic cube had given him: psychic bird powers, and a really good grasp on the state of his own sanity. The latter was hard won, built up over time through experience and a fifteen year fight against an alter ego that floated frustratingly between real and imagined so that for years at a time he'd be absolutely certain that he was gone only for something to happen that completely fucked up the balance of things and suddenly, woah, hey, wouldn't it be a good idea to shoot a Naval admiral in the middle of a newsroom in front of a bunch of military cops, rob a drug cartel, blackmail a senator, hold a guy hostage in his own home, break two people out of jail (one from Gitmo), and hook up with a SHIELD agent in the middle of a high stakes mission?

That had been one hell of a week.

The point was, Sam had a little bit of experience with losing it. And right now? Look, he wasn't going to pretend like he was completely okay here. That would be a straight up lie. But this wasn't Snap, this was just blowing off steam because all his friends were wrapped up in dealing with their own problems and if he didn't find a way to distract himself he was pretty sure he was going to end up resenting them for having other priorities. That was just selfish, and unfair - Natasha had died, for fuck's sake, and Steve hadn't again which was almost worse - and even if they never even found out that he felt like that he was damn well going to do what he could to avoid it being an issue in the first place, especially if all he had to do was take a bit of a break from being responsible all the time. No one needed him to be Cap here. There was never gonna be a better time to just let go and have a bit of fun without having to worry about the consequences.

Obviously he was gonna put the breaks on if Harley's 'crime and violence' tolerance turned out to be too much higher than his, and he'd dismissed the idea of asking Bucky or Natasha if he could borrow a knife or gun before even really considering it, but Sam Wilson was fully capable of tearing it up when he wanted to. He was also an extrovert who'd never met a stranger in his life, so when he found himself arriving at the rendezvous spot first he was relaxed enough to practice some casual parkour while he waited, jumping from standing up onto a nearby fence and balancing on top of it as Redwing found himself a perch safely out of the way.

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captcommunist
2019-05-21 12:47 pm UTC (link)

Even before becoming an actualfax superhero Sam hadn't exactly been shy about his body; these days he was fully aware that he'd never been in better shape - and that it showed. All he needed was a decently fitted t-shirt to outline his arm muscles (that shield was heavy, dammit) and he was pretty much good to go. It was something he just didn't need to think about much, heavily aided by the fact that he'd never been the kind of person who demanded an hour long routine and a shelf full of products before they'd show their face in public. He was no Thor or Luke Cage, sure, but then in his experience no one was unless they had some kind of super-status. Muscles like that did not happen to a human naturally. At least he could pass as normal.

He hopped down smoothly as she approached, unfazed by the bird quip - he'd built up an immunity to them long before Redwing came along thanks to his teenage interest in pigeons - and rolled his shoulders while he could, knowing that the falcon was bound to land on one sooner or later. Two or three pounds didn't sound like much until it became accustomed to putting all its weight right on your trapezius in the form of wicked looking talons.

"Don't worry, most people go for the easy jokes anyway. Nice bat." Harley was small and blonde, which wasn't exactly a shock from the demographic make up of the group that he'd seen so far, though she was at least trying to personalise it a bit with the hair dye. He wasn't sure if it was faded deliberately or if had happened since being here, and wondered idly if she was going to have to find some other way of distinguishing herself. Or maybe she didn't care.

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love_my_puddin
2019-05-22 01:37 am UTC (link)

She cocked her head to the side, clearly checking him out as he came down and grinning devilishly. Sure, he wasn't exactly the body-type she usually went for, but Harley could appreciate it. She waggled her eyebrows and her grin broadened. "I like 'em easy." There was definitely a flirtatious tone.

Harley had been sizing him up quietly. Broad shoulders, cool demeanor, but there was something about how he carried himself. He was confident, but not quite brash. Definitely a do-gooder. Probably a hero like Bats. But he had a little bit of a rebel. Or so she assumed, seeing as he was agreeing to come with her.

Probably to try to keep her out of trouble. Fat chance.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Figure it's my staple 'round here...seein' as most people ain't too happy when I carry a gun around." Most people around here were no fun, Harley found. She'd been keeping her nose relatively clean, mostly cause there was no Mr. J to stir the pot. The truth was that Harley was kind of quiet without her Joker. Sure, she got the most thrill out of chaos, but she wasn't much of a go-getter, so to speak. No, she was definitely a team player.

"So, what's your deal, Birdy?" She'd noticed the hawk, eyeing it before smirking. She was tempted to try to hit it but thought better of it for now.

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captcommunist
2019-05-22 11:44 am UTC (link)

His grin at her line was just as easy, an expression that came about as naturally to him as glares and withering looks, but her complaint about the gun surprised him enough not to comment on it. Not a huge number of the super community carried guns, really, but that was largely because most of them had built in powers that were just as good or better. Most of the time it seemed kind of churlish to insist that those that didn't disarm themselves when someone like Vision, Cyclops or Wolverine (either of them) could wipe a person out in half a second flat without even thinking about it. "Guess they figure there's no need in town. Not sure I trust this place that much personally though." And it wasn't like he was actively monitoring things, but... he did have quiet feelers out in the hopes it would help him notice if any of the birds picked up anything too strange. Maybe he just had more experience with some of the more dangerous dimensions that people had found access to back home. Maybe he was just paranoid. It was hard to gauge, really.

Still, at least his humour rebounded quickly at her question. He wasn't unaware of exactly how ridiculous his life story could sound, and judging from the reactions he'd gotten from a few people here already it was even moreso if you weren't familiar with where he came from. "Oh, you know, the usual. Psychic bird powers, vampire sidekick--" he jerked a thumb at Redwing, who twisted his head curiously at recognising they were talking about him in a way that made his red eyes glint, "--contentious relationship with the government. All the downtime's killing me a bit, I'm used to things being a lot more intense than this. I think the last time I had this little to do I was literally marooned on a deserted island, and I still managed to get into a fight there."

Though really that was more Steve's fault than his. Whatever, he was gonna claim it anyway.

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love_my_puddin
2019-05-23 12:14 am UTC (link)

His backstory wasn't as surprising as the casual manner he approached her. Harley was used to guys looking at her in two ways. With lust or with fear. She couldn't really read either on this guy's face, and for some reason she kinda liked it.

"Town full of supers with trust issues. What's new?" She shrugged and stepped closer, watching the door then spinning around to grin at him. "Psychic bird powers? You can talk to birds? Really?" That wasn't the strangest thing she'd heard. "Like, just that bird or any bird?"

Maybe he was some other universe's version of the Penguin. Even if he didn't look or act like the criminal at all. It would at least explain why he wasn't as surprised about her actions as some o the others had seemed.

"Ya got stories. I like that. Last time I was left alone this long was when I was locked up- but 'course Georgie kept me company. Right Georgie?" She paused and smiled widely. "Georgie says I'm right- he gets tired of talkin' too much, though, and then I'm just left to my own devices. That's never any good!"

So. The door! She started towards it. "You ready, Birdy?"

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captcommunist
2019-05-23 11:06 am UTC (link)

"All birds," he confirmed. "It's just strongest with Redwing coz I've had him so long." Well, close enough. He was rarely very precise when explaining his powers, partly because it was just easier not to be and partly to avoid the possibility of people picking up on the potential implications - firstly how incredibly Big Brother-ish the whole thing could be to start with, secondly the fact that if it had started as just Redwing and grown to encompass others, there was no real evidence to suggest it wasn't going to just keep going. It was one of the things he very deliberately didn't think about - the cosmic cube had been fifteen years ago and if he didn't manage to get himself killed playing hero he could easily live another forty, forty five years, statistically speaking. One of the most peaceful outcomes he could imagine was spending his days sitting non-responsive in a rest home, completely forgetting that he'd once had a human body.

Apparently, though, she could either give him a serious run for his money in the crazy stakes or she just had such a weird sense of humour that it might as well have been the same thing. That was... just awesome. Then again, crazy girls with baseball bats was far from the only thing that probably should have scared him a hell of a lot more than it did, along with things like 'super powered Nazis' and 'jumping off buildings' and 'telling cosmic beings to go fuck themselves'. Fuck it, he was here now, he might as well go along for the ride.

"Loads of stories," he agreed, because this was exactly how he got them, and one day his luck was gonna run out but it wasn't going to be today. "Here's hoping it doesn't just dump us in an empty field somewhere. I'm holding out for a sleazy bar of some kind."

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love_my_puddin
2019-05-25 02:47 am UTC (link)

"Huh." She cocked her head and studied him. "Guess it's always somethin' with the cute ones, isn't it?" She shrugged it off. Harley was clearly a flirt. Anyone who knew her for more than a few seconds could probably pick up on that. It was her way of wrapping people around her little finger and catching them off guard at just the right moment. Problem was, she really wasn't sure what she was caching off guard for or when. Maybe she was just looking for an easy opportunity to have a little fun. But what that meant was anyone's guess.

Sleazy bar sounded good. She winked and kicked the door open. The last time she did this, there had been a cavern. This time? It...was an actual sleazy bar. And Harley's smile grew more genuine as she went in first, and their sudden appearance in the crowded biker bar didn't seem to draw much attention- probably something to do with how the doors worked.

It was like Pancho's, and not. Definitely more put together- a real bar. With a real group of ~~targets~~ men. All of whom were almost immediately leering at the new girl as she winked and made her way to the bar, slamming the baseball bat on the counter as she set it down and getting the bartender's attention right away.

"You can't have that in here." The man said and Harley just leaned up on the bar and pouted.

"Pwease? It's my emotional support weapon."

The man looked even angrier as Harley tried to fuck with him, reaching for the bat. As he did, Harley brought out a knife she'd had hidden somewhere (this was Harley Quinn, you never really asked where), and stabbed the bartop hard, narrowly missing the man's hand on the bar. Harley didn't flinch, but she did smile.

"Pwease?"

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captcommunist
2019-05-25 03:18 am UTC (link)

Under normal circumstances Sam was a flirt too, and it was easy to go through the motions, to summon up a particular kind of look and a particular kind of smile. Sometimes he didn't even realise he was doing it, really, just another way he'd been changing how he presented himself to suit the environment his whole life. Code-switching body language.

The first few seconds through the door he was too surprised they'd actually gotten what they were looking for to realise what Harley was doing. The knife in the hand was a little hard to ignore, though, and he had a bit of an internal groan to himself - oh Jesus fucking Christ, it's like THAT - before he noticed the rest of the room start to react. Well. Looked like he didn't have to figure out what side he was on just yet, because everyone else pretty clearly clocked him as being with her. He could have been an innocent bystander who just happened to be walking in at the same time, it was kind of plausible, but noooo.

Whatever. He smoothly side-stepped the first guy coming at him, grabbing the nearest bottle of-- cola syrup? - from over the top of the bar so he'd have some kind of weapon. Redwing screeched angrily somewhere above him.

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love_my_puddin
2019-05-25 03:27 am UTC (link)

The bartender had frozen, the blade touching his hand even if it hadn't cut him. And then, behind Harley, a man went straight at Sam as her new friend grabbed a bottle from behind the bar to defend himself. Rolling her eyes, Harley punched the bartender hard in the face before grabbing the bat and taking a swing at another man coming for Sam, knocking him in the head. And she was laughing as he fell and it clearly made the others think twice about coming closer.

The bartender was holding his bloody nose, reaching around for a pistol under the bar. Just as he pulled it out to take aim, Harley grabbed Sam by the collar and yanked him away, a bullet moving past him and embedding itself into the bar's wall.

Harley was still grinning. This was the third time this month she'd been in a shoot out. Not bad.

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captcommunist
2019-05-25 09:55 am UTC (link)

Fuck it. There wasn't time to worry about what he'd gotten himself into, especially not now there were guns involved. In some ways it was actually almost a relief to let himself sink into the familar feeling of a really good fight, even if the sheer lunacy of his companion was apparently unnerving a few of the patrons more than the prospect of getting punched in the face might. He didn't entirely blame them, even as it gave him a real good opportunity to punch a guy in the face while he apparently was busy having second thoughts about whether he really wanted to get involved or not. Very Captain America of him.

He didn't want to be Captain America. Right now, or maybe at all, he wasn't sure, hadn't had a chance to really think about it, largely because he had a sneaking suspicion that if he did he'd realise that he did want to quit... and the only thing worse than the number of people who hated him with the shield was the number of people he'd be failing if he let it go. Misty had been more than clear enough about that.

This, at least, was uncomplicated. Even if the people here probably didn't actually deserve it, and he was probably going to be mad at himself later, it was easy to coordinate with Redwing and take advantage of the distraction caused by having a bird with a nearly-four-foot wingspan flying at one's face to twist a guy's arm up behind his back and push him towards Harley and her bat. (He'd spent enough time as the third wheel to either Steve and Sharon or Bucky and Natasha to underestimate a woman in a fight. Especially when armed.)

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love_my_puddin
2019-05-25 11:08 pm UTC (link)

Oh yes, Harley was having fun. She was happy to take aim as the bird actually rounded up a few more victims and she was cackling a little before jumping behind the bar and grabbing the knife. The poor bartender was a terrible shot and Harley stabbed him in the arm before headbutting him. That took the man down and gave her time to grab a bottle of vodka as she took a seat behind the bar, away from the mayhem, long enough to get a long drink.

"Meh..." She looked at it and scrunched her nose. "Needs somethin'" She was now crouching under the bar and looking for a glass as the fight went on above her. At some point, she would reach to grab the gun that had fallen to the floor and casually stood up and shot a man who was about to go after Sam.

"You're doin' great, Sweets! Just keep it up! What's your poinon, by the way?"

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