Wacky Alaskan Thoughts

Chapter 3

"I don't think we need all of you for this mission," the man said, standing in front of the room where the current US bound Avengers were sitting for a mission briefing. A handful of S.H.I.E.L.D agents were on one side of the table, while Rhodey, Sam, Carol, Bucky, and Peter were on the other side, flipping through the details of the mission on their Stark pads.

"If you say it's a milk run you will automatically jinx it, and I don't think I can handle another world ending scenario at the moment, thanks," Peter said.

"Not a milk run, but I think we could take The Soldier and Spiderman and be done before the week is up."

"And now he put a time frame on it," Carol said, "he's just asking for a new alien threat."

The room was laughing now, except for Generic Agent trying to lead the briefing. Sam couldn't remember his name, but he saw the man wasn't appreciating the interruptions.

"Getting back on track here, why those two?"

"Yeah," Carol asked, a shit eating grin on her face, "why the two white guys?"

The agent sobered up even more, if that was possible.

"That's...that has nothing to do with it!"

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, deciding to join in with teasing the flustered agent. "What has nothing to do with it, Agent?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't discriminate against race or gender. We don't see color here."

Rhodey looked up at the ceiling and let out a pained groan. Sam made a small gagging noise. Bucky put his head in his hands. Peter's eyes widened in bewilderment. Carol took out her phone and pulled up a contact.

"Maria will want to hear what's about to happen."

Before the agent could say anything else, Sam leaned forward in his seat.

"My team seems to be in the mood to tease today, Agent, and though they weren't trying to call any of your actions prejudiced, I think we need to clear something up. Could you never say that sentence to us again?"

Rhodey cleared his throat.

"It would be better if you never say that sentence again to anyone. "I don't see color" is one of the most harmful passive statements to come out of the 20th century. It communicates that in order to work with a person of color you have to intentionally ignore part of their identity. It hides prejudice behind a veneer of acceptance and demands that those of color conform to the same ideal."

Maria's voice came over Carol's phone, "Not seeing a part of me means that when I do something that you would consider highlighting the aspect you "don't see" then I become the one with the problem. Wilson, Rhodes, and I had enough of that in the military, and the team certainly doesn't need it here."

The agent held up a hand and took a breath. He's cheeks were red with embarrassment, but Sam saw him marshal himself. After another moment he spoke.

"After the public stance you took, Captain, I fear that I was on edge when Danvers mentioned race. The last thing I would want was for you and your team to not feel comfortable working with me. Three of my team are in medical because they stumbled upon a bunker that looks to be an A.I.M holdout. They have some sort of unidentified alien tech that shoots a form of radiation my agents weren't prepared to handle. This mission needs subtlety paired with the ability to withstand a physical attack that would lethally harm an ordinary human. Wilson is an unenhanced human. Rhodes and Danvers are not subtle. That leaves Barnes and Parker.

"My concern for my downed agents has put me in a mood to not be toyed with. I allowed my already strained patience to snap when Danvers made her comment. That doesn't excuse my using a phrase that offended you. Call it privilege or whatever but it never crossed my mind how that phrase would sound to anyone not white. I sincerely apologize for using it."

Sam walked around the table and held out a hand. The agent shook it, and Sam leaned in.

"Thank you for your apology, Agent, and I accept it, if you will accept mine. We didn't know the situation and from experience the fear of losing teammates can sober anyone. Barnes and Parker will be available for as long as you need them."

There was a calm silence before Bucky stage whispered to Peter,

Chapter 2

Sam wouldn't say he was nervous, but there was nothing like a Nick Fury pop in to assure you that your heart indeed worked. There he was, patch and all, sitting on his sofa and...

"Are you drinking my tea?"

"It's not very good. Did the soldier boy make it? Too much tea and not enough sweet."

"Well let me make a note to have better refreshments for the next time you don't tell me you are stopping in."

Nick's lip twitched, showing a brief smile before his face went back to it's more passive expression. There was a building silence until Sam cleared his throat.

"Why are you here, Fury?"

"Had an interesting thing in my inbox this morning."

Nick took his phone out and in a moment Sam was hearing his own voice give a statement to a reporter. The two men said nothing while it played. When it was over, Nick hit a button and it played the last sentence over again.

"'Be mad, be uncomfortable, and be the change.'"

It was replayed a few more times, the two men staring each other down as the words washed over them.

"I'm not taking it back, and I'm not apologizing. I stand by this and..."

"Stand down, Cap, I'm not asking you to. I came to thank you, and to show my support."

Sam stared in silence so Nick continued.

"It took me a long time to get to a position where anyone would listen to me. I had to claw and fight for every win. When I was finally where I thought I could do good, I had painted myself into a corner. You can't be an open activist and be a spy. I've done my fair share of fighting for equality and safety for the minority, for the oppressed, for the marginalized, but it was always in secret. I could never step in front of a camera and give people hope. The ones who did came from a place of privilege and their hope came with a naivety that undercut the struggles of those they didn't understand.

But you, Mr. Wilson, Captain America, you have taken your position and made it stand for something more. The shield has always protected the world. It has defended us against the Hitler's and the Thanos's of the universe. Now it not only still does that, it also gives young black people hope to stand up against the institutional racism that is rampant in our society.

There are politicians that are screaming for your censure, though they would never call it that. They think the direction the "new Captain America" is taking will show favoritism. They think you might not be willing to represent all Americans."

At this Sam took a breath to speak, but was cut off.

"Oh, I know it's bullshit born out of fear, white guilt, and more of that down home prejudice we have dealt with our entire lives. That's the point of my being here, drinking this bitter tea. I want you to keep fighting, and I want you to do it with the knowledge that I'm in the background fighting too. I'll make sure you can continue make people think long and hard about their day to day actions. We might not fix everything, but I'll go down trying, one person at a time. You with me, Sam Wilson?"

Sam chuckled.

"I can do this all day."

Nick's face lit up, and he and Sam laughed deeply for a moment.

Nick rose from Sam's couch and handed him his cup back. His phone rang as he did, and Sam's eyebrows raised as he heard his voice say,

"'...there are messed up things in our communities that I won't ignore just because it makes a group of middle class white people  uncomfortable.'"

Nick raised his eyebrows right back.

"I might be being a shit about my part of the bargain, but I do love seeing people squirm when they hear my new ringtone.

The New Captain:

Chapter 1

Sam Wilson didn't realize at first how his actions as a person would effect his persona as Captain America. Well, he had thought about it in the same way you think about how one meal might effect your diet. His actions and the press they might garner were a nebulous thing floating around, void of substance and therefore consequences. He responded to the injustices he saw around him just like Steve did, but there were marked differences that the media had a field day with.

Sam Wilson was loud against the gentrification of poor minority neighborhoods. Sam Wilson actively supported all Black Lives Matter functions. Sam Wilson publicly spoke against police brutality and profiling. But all anyone that was used to Steve saw was Captain America doing things that they felt didn't represent everyone. He avoided any questions comparing the two of them to each other for months. He refused to do that to Steve. The mantle would look different for each person and right now it was his. His deflection of these questions didn't go unnoticed to the media or his team. After a particularly grueling press conference with himself, The Winter Soldier, and Captain Marvel, Bucky pulled him to the side.

"Stevie wouldn't want you to protect him."

"I'm not trying to..."

"No, Sam, listen. He was our friend, and he was amazing, but he wasn't perfect. He focused his entire life on fighting the injustices the effected the entire world, but when it came to his own community he didn't know where to start. He was so out of place that he always felt like he was playing catch up. But you know. You were raised here. You know a fear that, though we knew existed, we never experienced for ourselves. Stop holding your tongue for Steve. Go answer that last question. I'm going to see if Carol and Maria are down for dinner after this shit show."

Sam tracked down the reporter that had last tried to compare their stances. When they asked again for Sam to explain why his actions seemed more politically and racially motivated than Steve's, he was ready.

"In the 1940's, America needed to know the story of a poor, frail man that was marked as 'failure to thrive' and cast off by those around him. They needed Captain America to look like them, and to be an underdog that came out swinging. They needed Steven Grant Rogers.

The first one word prompt is something easy. The word is, "SNUGGLE."

I wasn't able to use a lot of this for my character, but I loved the idea that soulmates aren't only romantic, and went from there.

In my land, in my tribe, we believe there is one person that you are destined to walk this world with. A trite phrase from this main land would be 'soulmate.' This could be a romantic partner, though it has never been limited to that. There are friends who have no romantic attraction to each other who are partners for life. Those mates do not feel the need or draw for physical romance, because all they need is in the other being by their side. I was lucky enough to have been born with mine. My twin, my sister, my heart. Which is fitting, because she was named Heart Song. I was named with her; Red Feet. Our names were given from ancient prophecies and omens around our birth. My sister was the Heart Song that would call to the peaceful nature of our people, and behind her were the Red Feet of blood that would call to the predatory nature we could not fully leave behind, no matter how hard we tried. Most adults from our tribe kept their distance from me, my reminder being too real to them. Heart stayed by me though, and her inclusion of me was enough to keep me going. Our bond was so strong if we entered a room together we were called Red Heart, an amalgamation that spoke to us being one soul carried in two bodies.

We weren't like our cousins who studied in the temple of the Cat Lord to be monks and clerics. We were free to explore our island and the pursuits that caught our eye at the moment. Heart was a gifted musician. Any instrument she touched gave forth lovely music, and her voice was unmatched. I, Red, absorbed the oral histories of our people, and those that came from the main land from a few nomadic members of our tribe. I learned of other races, other gods, and those that used powers to change the world around them.

The young commander stands before her horde, facing the untouched field of snow before them. In the forest ahead, a faceless enemy hides in the trees. The sounds of monstrous movement come from the darkness of the canopy. Whatever is in there must be kept from the field of snow. Their blight must not be allowed purchase.

A more eloquent leader would speak words to strengthen moral. To excite their soldiers into the frenzy of battle. She stands, a quiet pillar of strength, unafraid of what lies ahead. With her stillness she shares her peace and resolve with her fighters, encouraging them without a word.

The moment comes, the tension built to breaking. She steps forward, preparing to charge...

"E! What are doing? We need to get ready for church!"

The commander turns to see not an army, but a cabin with smoke curling from the chimney, and a woman, an older version of our warrior, stands on the porch, her boots crunching snow that collected there overnight.

"Mom, I'm about to lead a charge into the woods!"

"Your game can wait until we come back. And you are afraid of the woods."

*runs in wearing a tinfoil hat, but it's pink so you know I'm an adult who should totally be here*

Socks and gloves are mildly sentient. After living a certain length of time with their hosts, feeding off backtalk and static electricity, they leave to make their own micro civilizations. One of each sentient pair must leave to make the way for the rest of their family. The sad part is most of the socks and gloves that are left never make it to the civilization made for them because their hosts throw them away.

Some can find love again with fellow singles, creating lovely mismatched pairs and, on occasion, a sock and a glove decide to eschew social norms and make something new, but just as awesome.