video | un: captamerica

[mstitel]

WHO: James Rogers & You!
WHERE: Gemini
WHEN: February 5th
WHAT: James has a proposition and a question for the network!
WARNINGS: Talk of death and grieving practices and.... I mean, it's James. There's no way the robot apocalypse won't come up.

[The camera clicks on to a view of a chair in front of a desk in a slightly cluttered room in Meropide. It's clear some effort went into tidying it up, but there's still a few shirts and socks strewn over the place and the wall is a mess of overlapping posters of various scenic views and national parks. James is partially in frame, adjusting the camera angle before stepping back, seemingly satisfied, and going to take a seat.

He's in his Captain America outfit, a blue-black top with a red star stitched into it, his hair combed back nice and neat-- he's in work mode, not chaotic little cat gremlin mode.]

So... hi. For those of you who don't know, I'm James Rogers. I came here from a different world last September, so I guess I'm what people would call an... isekai? [It's so obvious he's never said that word out loud in his life.] Anyway, that's not-- ... what I'm trying to say today.

[He makes a face, takes a deep breath, squares himself up a little more in his chair, and...]

My home world is one of many that we know of. We've been dealing with alternate realities for a long, long time. With worlds that become entirely new realities based on a single decision or a won or lost battle-- the place I was before Kaisou, I was living and dealing with three completely different versions of the guy who raised me. So situations like this aren't that uncommon for me.

And at home-- we have a team. A group of people with extraordinary abilities who came together to help fight unthinkable forces and just to help the people of the cities they lived in. In my world, I'm the leader of that team, and in the place I was before this, I helped put together another branch of it. I'd really like to do that here, too, but...

[EXHALE] I guess I just really don't want to step on any toes, and you guys have been really organized here. It's nice to see.

Because of that, I just want to know if there are any other people around my age with abilities or powers either from their worlds, or from Kaisou, who want to get together to train and maybe form a response squad in times of danger. My... father believed that the most dangerous thing people with abilities can do is not know how to use them, and I know I've gotten some weird abilities since living here that I definitely didn't have in my world.

So, if anyone wants to join the Avengers-- or at least the Kaisou branch of them, let me know! I'm sure with all the spirit realms and places constantly showing up around the city, we can find a place or two to get together and figure things out.

[This is, by far, the most anyone has ever heard James speak at once. Seems the boy can channel his father when he needs to! But as he leans forward to turn the camera off, he pauses, and sheepishly adds a little aside--]

Oh, and... for anyone who isn't interested, maybe I can just ask you a question. What... do people typically do to honor those who have died, here?

Comments

[jackdawvision]

[That sounds very, very similar to the Assassins.]

It ain't, but with how often something happens around here, it'd be safer to have more teams around than the Black Order's and POKEGO's Kaisou branches, with different specialties and purposes. The Aides have the right idea, but they're more of a proper guild for professionals. You're proposing a group meant primarily for training those just coming into their powers. You're not stepping on any toes, James, you've identified a true need.

[Good kid. His father and his guardian would be proud of him. Edward's proud of him, though he's not sure if he has the right to be.

He chuckles.]

Fair point. All right. It's an old song even by my time, about parting from friends for the last time. There's...hang on, there's covers of it on YouTube. Here's one. [And he picks his phone up again to send a link to James.] A friend of mine, Anne Bonny—she sang it once, before I left my days as a pirate behind. I thought of it as something of a funeral dirge, for those we knew once.

[mstitel]

The Aides are kind of what inspired this, actually. [He shifts, his hand automatically moving to the shield projector on his other arm, a little bit of awkwardness coming back in as he thinks.] I'm a part of the Aides, too, but... I dunno. It just never feels right to me to live in a world without the Avengers in some form.

[But James does take a moment to listen to that song, sitting with his eyes closed as he soaks in the words. Until finally, softly...]

... she'd probably hate that. [Weird, how fondly that's said, with a smile pulling at his lips.] I'll have to learn it.

[jackdawvision]

I know that feeling. [How strange, to be the only Assassin. How off-putting and lonely. He gets it.] Like...you expect to be surrounded with them, aye? If there used to be so many of them. That never quite goes away.

[Sometimes Edward turns to the side because he catches sight of a hood in the crowd, and for a moment he thinks he's spotted another Assassin. And then he remembers where he is, the impossibility of it, and breathes out again.

Other times he catches a flash of red hair, or hears a Bristol drawl, or sees dark hair and a red bandana, and for a moment he's twenty-two again and all his friends are still alive. Then he blinks, and he remembers.

And since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you should not...]

Mm. It's a good song. I can send you the lyrics, though the melody tends to vary depending on who's singing it and the mood they're conveying. But, well—you asked what we do to honor the dead. This song is one way—it asks us to remember them when we part.

There's a bit I always liked. [He coughs, then sings the line himself:] I'll gently rise and softly call, good night and joy be with you all.

[mstitel]

[There's a sad, aching feeling clawing at James' chest, hearing Edward sing that song, remembering the echoes of the video he'd linked to him in the wake of it.

He's never really thought too much about music, there was always something else to focus on, back home. But... there really is emotion in it that he can't quite figure out.]

... do you... mind if I ask who you're singing about? [Strange-- James has never felt much like a kid, even when he was one. And yet, asking Edward this now...

He hasn't felt this small since he was a toddler, clinging to a shaking railing as his entire world was destroyed.]

[jackdawvision]

Not at all. I told you I used to be a pirate—the thing about my old line of work is, very few of us made it out alive. I've...I've honestly lost count how many of my old mates I've seen hanged, drowned, shot or stabbed dead.

[He got damned lucky to walk away with a pardon and he knows it. And this isn't going into his real line of work now—an Assassin's life is violent, and violent lives are not known to be long ones. One day they'll be singing this song about him, if he's remembered at all.

Good chance he's not.]

Tell me about them, I'll tell you about mine. No one's dead, while their name's still spoken.

Private; Video

[mstitel]

[After a moment of consideration, James is moving to pick up his phone, poking around on it a bit until he can apply a private filter-- he's starting to actually recognize when things are typically supposed to be kept close to the chest, only trusted with certain people and not the network as a whole.]

I know that pirates and superheroes are almost complete opposites, but... that sounds a lot like what Tony went through.

[James sighs, crossing his arms on the edge of his desk as he just sort of stares into the middle distance, thinking.]

... my dad's name was Steve Rogers and my mom's name was Natasha Romanoff. [His parents might as well be the first ones he brings up, if they're going to be doing this.] They were... Earth's Mightiest Heroes, but... I don't know. [He looks... tired, even though the corner of his mouth is lifting in a wry little smile.] My dad was from the 1940s. He fought in the US Army and got frozen in ice before waking up in the modern world. My mom was an assassin before she joined the Avengers, but I don't think Tony wanted me to remember that. He just kept calling her a spy.

permaprivate

[jackdawvision]

[He's vaguely aware of the concept of superheroes. Hard not to, after a few years spent in 2020s America. He finds them a little unrealistic, because in his experience, someone's reputation as a hero depends on where you're standing. Still...he's not surprised his own experience comes across as familiar.

So he shakes his head, a small and tired smile of his own tugging up the corners of his mouth.]

Mm. Well. No matter what you are, it ain't easy being one of the last ones left. [A breath.] You probably know some of them well already, it ain't hard to find their names on the Internet. But I knew Edward Teach, Mary Read, Stede Bonnet—hell, even Jack Rackham, mutinous fool that he was, and Ben Hornigold, though he turned on us long before the rest of them fell.

It's. Well. It's been years. Some days I don't even think about them much. The same for you, I'd guess, and though I never met him, I imagine it's the same for your Tony. But the grief doesn't completely leave you, I think—it's always there, waiting to catch you off-guard: their hairstyle, or their favored color, or a word they used, or a tune they hummed once.

[James mentions that his mother was an assassin, and almost unconsciously, Edward sits up straighter. Intellectually, he knows: she likely wasn't an Assassin, with the blade and the hood and the Creed to guide her. Still. Still.]

—ah, you know, I sympathize with your father greatly. I didn't wake up in ice, but I did wake up in a time that wasn't my own. [And the 1940s is much less of a jump than the Age of Sail.] It's likely Tony was a little wary of informing a child that his mother killed people. I know I certainly kept a few details about my old life from my children.

—Earth's Mightiest Heroes, though. Truly?

[mstitel]

[Amazingly, there is a spark of recognition, as Edward lists off the names. It's not uncommon, there are a few pirate names that are pervasive across media and history. But for someone so narrowly educated, someone where the entire world fell apart when he was still a toddler... it's no doubt a little surprising.]

I think I've heard Teach, maybe Read? And the name you said before is... familiar-- Bonny? [He's pretty sure that was it.] Older history wasn't all that important, when I was growing up, but Tony tried to make sure we at least learned a little of it.

[But he can't help but think a little more about what Edward is saying, about all the ways that memories can come back to haunt you.

He remembers that spaceship-- remembers the way that the sight of feathers cut through the noise clouding his mind, the way Dr. Ratio's wings reminded him of a dimpled smile and a boisterous laugh--]

It... wasn't something they came up with. I think the papers liked calling them that more than anything else. [... but] Tony... raised us. Raised me. The children of all his dead best friends and teammates. I never... really thought about how that must have been, for him.

[There's a contemplative distance in James's expression, as he says that, as he frowns down at the table in front of him.]

At least I don't look like my dad.

[jackdawvision]

You might've also heard him called Blackbeard. [said mildly, as if he's just talking about an old drinking buddy and not the most famous pirate in history. Which...he is, actually.] He always did like that name, said it made him sound like a fearsome devil. Mary was a friend of mine—one of the best people I ever knew, and sly as a fox to boot, to have hidden her true identity for years. Anne became my quartermaster—sharp as a knife, that woman, and she could keep up with the rest of us easy as breathing.

I'm not surprised Tony would've taught you about Blackbeard, at least. He was the one who knew how to best cultivate a reputation, how to use it to his advantage. I think he knew people would be talking about him for years to come, in a way most of us just...didn't care too much about.

[Although Edward figures even old Blackbeard didn't realize just how long his name would linger after his death.]

It sounds like he loved them, and dearly. He must've wanted to honor them, as best as he could. I won't say it was an easy choice to make, but I think...if Tony's the sort of person I believe he is, from what you're telling me, he might've decided it was worth any cost he might incur to himself.

[A hum.]

Suppose not. I don't know much about your father, but if he's the man you got the mantle from, I imagine he'd be proud.

[mstitel]

[There's a bit of silence from James' end, after Edward finishes speaking. A silence that is eventually broken by a sigh as James leans forward onto his crossed arms, chin propped up on his wrists as he stares at a space just over the camera on his phone.]

Maybe. Maybe not. I've met a different version of him before. A Steve Rogers who was from a different world. My mom, too. They... barely wanted to look at me, so... there's a real chance that he wouldn't be.

[But... James sighs and rubs at his head for a moment, trying to keep his thoughts from wandering too far.]

If it makes you feel any better, Edward, I'll tell people about you. Whenever I end up back in my world again, I'll make sure your name is written in history books.

[After all, if James knows the names of most of the other pirates Edward's talking about, he has to be one of the ones lost to time, right?]

[jackdawvision]

[Ah. He's made a misstep, and it's obvious in his response that he regrets being so sure of his imagined scenario. He shakes his head now, and says:]

Then—don't mind them. Don't worry what your parents, in your world and in others, might think of you. [What parent would look on someone like James and not be proud of him? Jesus, if a different Jenny showed up (a real possibility given how many of Edward's friends are reincarnated), he'd call her his daughter with his whole heart, be proud of her.] You've forged a path that's all your own, with the name you made your own. Isn't that something worthy of being in the history books?

[That...catches him off-guard. He smiles, small and a little sad.]

...ah, James, lad, don't you worry about an old captain such as me. I don't mind being forgotten. I'd rather just raise my children in peace. [And he's an Assassin. It'd defeat the point of working in the shadows, if his name were to be written in the history books.] The only way my friends' names became so well-known was through their short lives and their violent ends. I'd rather live quietly and fade into obscurity, than to blaze my name in a flash of glory and leave my loved ones alone in the world.

[mstitel]

A name I've made on my own, huh? [He pauses, before sitting back up, looking down at the star etched in red on his chest. At the gauntlet on his wrist, the shield he knows can be projected with the push of a button.] ... I... don't really know about that.

[After all, Captain America is the mantle he was raised to take on. The name, the look, and everything that comes with it has been hammered into his head every day since he was a toddler. It's all he was ever supposed to be.

He's never even stopped to think about how life could have been if Ultron didn't happen. What he might have wanted to do, if he wasn't raised to be the next Captain America.

In the end, it's easier to respond to Edward's woes than think more about his own.]

I didn't really mean as a pirate. [He glances back towards the camera, a strangely calm resolve in his expression.] My world's been almost completely destroyed. America is pretty much a wasteland with just a few safe zones. Even if we had history books, so much of that has been lost. But my siblings and I -- the Avengers -- we're the kinds of things that humanity is going to write about. The sons and daughter of the world's dead heroes defeating Ultron and rebuilding the world is something they're going to make a record of.

And if they're going to make a record of me, no matter what I say or do about it, I want them to know the names of the people who mean something to me.