raiamods: (Default)
raiamods ([personal profile] raiamods) wrote in [community profile] raiamemes2021-04-30 08:56 pm
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TDM 001


TEST DRIVE MEME 001 ❀
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential character nudity, violence, trypophobia (images) as well as light mentions of gore.

Please note: FOR THE FIRST 24 HOURS AFTER 'HATCHING', CHARACTERS WILL FEEL WEAK AND ANY POWERS THEY HAVE WILL NOT WORK.

Test drive meme threads can be considered game canon for players who are later accepted and wish to keep their CR. The rescue mission prompt will be a TDM-exclusive, but the other prompts that you see here will also appear on our first game log. There will, of course, be more going on that week.

Please reserve questions about consequences for altering or meaningfully investigating the setting for the first log of the game, where we will have a Mod Questions thread at the top of the log. On this test drive meme, please reserve this thread for clarification and setting questions.

On the first day of reserves (May 10th), only players who participate in the TDM will be allowed to reserve. You must link an AC-length thread from the TDM for early access. Starting on the 11th, any prospective player may submit a reserve. Our hope is that this will avoid overwhelming our reserves.

❀ HATCHING


Congrats, you've woken up in an egg. I'm sure this is exactly how you wanted to spend your Saturday, right? There's no time to get curious and check out the other egg sacs. By the time you've fought your way out of the membranous sac, spilled electric blue goop everywhere, wiped it out of your eyes and sundry other orifices to get your bearings, you have a spear (or a gun) leveled at your face, throat, or other vital organs. Even if you might be inclined to fight, you can barely lift your arms to protest being grabbed and dragged off. Before you can even get a word in edgewise, you've been thrown into a holding cell.

Characters will not have a chance to retrieve their items at the time of the first hatching, and may not even know there is anything left in the remaining eggs.

The holding cell stinks of something sour and acidic, like rotted citrus, but you are not alone. Several other detainees sit in similar squalid confusion, dressed strangely and equally gooey. Time to make nice, ask questions... figure out what the hell is going on, and maybe do something about all that slime?

Over the next few days, a few things become clear. Despite the alien greeting, your captors speak a language that you understand, and the unpleasant circumstances are revealed to be a matter of necessity, not choice. Supplies are low, but they ensure that the new arrivals' time imprisoned is as painless as can be — they offer hot communal showers of less than three minutes, some strange starchy meal-replacement, and medical treatment to those in need. You might strike up a conversation with your new best friend in the shower over a low soap dispenser or when you realize you might need to share towels.

The cost of these luxuries comes in the form of touch-and-go interrogation by the security officers keeping tabs on the cells and supervising the shower time.

A few notes:
☆ Your character may get pulled away for interrogation at some point. No torture, no drugs; just questioning.

☆ Locals will be stopping by outside the freestanding holding cells to ogle or ask questions. Are you really going to be mean to that little kid staring at you with wide eyes?

☆ Characters will be let out for bio breaks. No one has to pee in a bucket, that's just inhumane!

☆ Attempts to escape will probably get you tasered. The mods will not facilitate escape-plots/etc on test drive memes. However: if you app and are accepted you are more than welcome to chat with us about the possibility of having escaped or attempted it.

❀ EXPLORE THE BASECAMP

On the heels of a little benign interrogation, a medical inspection, and a stern talking to by Captain Childe, the survivors at Basecamp Leviathan determine one thing: you don't appear to be an active threat.

Released from the detention center after three days, you are given the run-down by the locals — you're on a planet called Ethyraia, and the people around you are survivors of the catastrophic crash of the UCSS Adamant several years prior. You, in fact, showed up on the third anniversary of the crash. Weird coincidence, huh?

You're being allowed to mingle with the others. The first order of the day is having a proper meal at the mess hall — some of the Adamant's survivors will be friendlier than others. They've been stranded here for years, remember? Some of them will be so desperate to talk to someone who has news of other places, and some will be giving you the cold shoulder.

You'll be fed the same as the rest of them. A plastic plate of crumbled protein of unidentifiable origin and gravy over rice with a single wilted stalk of broccoli and a cup of the worst coffee you've ever had. Maybe somebody bumps into you and spills said coffee, maybe you make it all the way to one of the long tables set out for communal eating.

Time to strike up a chat with your neighbor — maybe ask them to pass the salt?

(What do you mean, there's no salt!?)

After a meal — it's hard to say which one you'd call it, since the whole crew is on rotating schedules — you may decide to wander the basecamp. Folks in every department could use a hand. Those willing to help out may get friendlier reception than those who play the tourist. For more info on what else you might find, check out the LOCATIONS page.

During this time, characters will be able to return to the Central Chrysalis where they hatched. While there are no clues as to how they got there, they might find items — their own, or someone else's. Everyone is strapped for supplies, but try not to snatch up anything that isn't yours. The security officers don't look kindly on people chasing one other down the hall, trying to get back their dirty magazines.

A few notes:
☆ Feel free to help out anywhere. Every little bit of assistance you offer to the locals will raise their estimation of you. You could easily help clean dishes after the meal, help fix leaky piping or repair hammocks. You could stop by the aid station and assist with the wounded. You'll be watched closely and some of the survivors will be warier than others, but most will appreciate the opportunity to have a 'break'.

☆ If your character leaves the basecamp and wanders outside the Leviathan, they may begin to notice that what they perhaps took as a giant cave is actually an enormous dragon. Everything they see that seems 'human made' will look varying levels of worn down, patched, repaired and patched again. This is not a place of prosperity and happiness. Many people are recently injured, or have new scars or missing limbs.

☆ PCs will be warned about going beyond the shade of the dragon's wings. For the sake of the test drive mods will not be facilitating plots that deal with characters going further; we ask that players with an interest in exploring this wait until the game is fully open.

❀ RESCUE MISSION

"There's no time to waste," the woman says breathlessly as she grabs your arm. She pulls you to an augmented reality sand table and you will find yourself standing alongside some of the others you may recognize as having 'hatched' with you. There are murmurs by the Adamant's survivors as they pour over data. Maybe you remember Captain Childe from the stern interrogation she gave you a few days ago, but in any case but she's standing at the edge of the sand table looking at the distance scaled between the enormous huddle of HUD badges — the Adamant's survivors — and a tiny pocket of pulsing green some fifteen kilometers away.

"They knew better," Captain Childe says, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "They should have been back hours ago."

"Fucking scientists," says a man with a faintly French accent. He is scarred and battle-worn, and looks properly pissed off. He's also sporting several fresh injuries, one of which seems to have warranted the use of a crutch. "They'd lose their heads if they weren't attached. Let them wait out the storm."

"No," the captain says. "They're too close to the Rat Nest. We don't need a repeat of —" she trails off, as if seeing you for the first time. She looks you up and down, and then: "You've been told by now that everyone here has to pitch in. If you know how to fight, be ready in ten minutes. You're our rescue squad." She turns and walks out, and there's an awkward moment where everyone present is looking at you to make a choice.

Ten minutes really isn't a lot of time to get ready to walk into danger. Or maybe you aren't a fighter. Maybe you just don't care. But either way, there are people looking to you. To see how you'll react. To see what you'll do. To see if you belong.

What'll it be, hatchling? Fight or flight? Maybe you ought to start coming up with a plan.

FIELD WORK

There's a cadre of scientists cut off by acid rain. From their last transmission, they were driven into the Rat Warrens — and you've been tasked with rescuing them. Too many members of the Security Team are themselves injured, and none of the remaining ones have experience leading a fire team. Let's hope you do — or at least that you can fake it.

Maybe you've hand-picked your team. Maybe you're just stuck with whoever else was closest. Either way, your companions are some of the people you might recognize as fellow 'hatchlings'. If you know them already — good, you've got a head start on what they might be capable of out in the field, and you can chat about the little things. You know, like the weather. Acid rain, gotta love it.

Either way. You're given few small slabs of surprisingly lightweight alloy that has a sheet of — is that hide from the Leviathan? — stretched across them, to divide up amongst your team. "Helps with the rain," Ensign Porter says, trying to sound cheerful despite the grim set to his jaw. "Just come back in one piece. I kinda feel responsible for you guys, you know?"

Before you know it, you're outfitted for the trip. Weapons (if you didn't have your own) and maybe some medical supplies, handed over with a grimace by Doc Sunya.

So then it's just you, your tiny team and a fifteen kilometer hike. Oh, and the acid rain. Luckily, the shields seem to be keeping it off, but it's hard to hear anything over the impact of the drops. Anyone want to play I never?

Or maybe you think you should make a break for it. This is your first time being outside the Leviathan unsupervised. You've got supplies, and other people with as little to lose here as you do. Maybe you should talk.

THE RAT WARREN

You've made it to the last transmitted location of the scientists. What you find doesn't bode well — one of them seemed to have an arm torn off — at least, you think it's an arm — the way it's been disintegrated by the rain makes it hard to tell.

One thing's certain, though. There are bloodstains leading into the nearby maw of a hole in the ground. There's a putrid odor wafting from it, and the sound of frantic scrabbling.

You have an idea of what might be down there. 'Giant rats with tentacles', Porter had said. Don't let the tentacles grab you, they leave chemical burns that usually result in amputation if they can't be treated immediately. But there's a chance the scientists are still alive, and you need to make your choice.

If you and your small team venture down into the darkness, what happens next is up to you. You'll be encountering hoards of these monsters. The scientists are still alive, but will they stay that way? And more importantly, can you get them back to the Leviathan in one piece?

PCs versus the local fauna, round one, FIGHT!

A few notes:
☆ Feel free to put player characters 'in charge' of the planning/logistics phase. If another PC tags into your thread, you and that player can decide which PC will be 'leading the charge'.

☆ Your character will have: a mini-railgun, a spear (if they don't have their items/weapons from home), a first-aid kit, the acid rain shields, ration bars (that are essentially condensed protein bars — they do not taste good) and one of the smartwatches, which will have a mini holographic HUD displayable on its interface. If your character is the sort to request other things, feel free to assume they received them (within reason — please remember that resource scarcity is the name of the game — feel free to be creative here!).

☆ There are fifteen kilometers to cover. If your character has an ability like superspeed/etc, please keep in mind it will work, but you also have your allies to consider. Normal walking time over this distance, given the difficulty of the environment (steep hills, acid rain, unknown territory, etc) would translate to several hours to an average person.

☆ Feel free to use the NPC scientists however you'd like. If you want your character to find some dead, you can. If you'd prefer they be rescued, that is also acceptable. These are essentially 'your' NPCs that you are using to facilitate the story at this point — the sky is the metaphoric limit!

❀ BOOZE

A week. You've been here for a week.

By now, you might have tried to venture out of Basecamp Leviathan and experienced firsthand the acid rains that the security officers warned you about. Or you might be teaching the kids at the schoolyard how to gamble. In any event, Thorkil seems to take pity on his disoriented new friends and taps his distillery for a little help.

Invitation passes by word of mouth to meet at the memorial wall. Moonshine of questionable quality is passed around in tin cups — hope no one's afraid of germs — as Thorkil explains the great relief it is to be gaining people instead of losing them. This settlement isn't big, and they aren't overburdened with hope or supplies, but there's been a lot of loss in the past three years. Some people might be willing to look at the arrival of these newcomers as a sign that things are turning around.

Bottoms up, hatchlings, and ... Happy Birthday?

A few notes:
☆ Feel free to turn this into an impromptu party. Maybe you're celebrating getting all the scientists back alive! Maybe it's something like a wake to remember them in the sad event of their passing. Either way, many of the engineers and other NPCs may join you in this moonlight drinking session, as well as whatever PCs you tag out to or are tagged by.)

❀ OBLIGATORY NETWORK


Welcome people of all kinds to Basecamp Leviathan! I'd give you a hand moving in except...

I have no hands.
Because I'm an AI.
Get it?
It's a joke.

My name is Cartagena. But anyway, this isn't about me or the Adamant for once. This is about all of you. So if you would kindly fill out the following questionnaire to get to know each other; it would also be very helpful for my systems.

NOTE: Participation is MANDATORY.

That was another joke. It's all voluntary. You people and your free will.

1. What is your name?
2. Where are you from?
3. What's your favorite smell? Please describe it as you would to a person without a nose. Because I do not have a nose.
4. If you could be any animal in any world, what would you be?
5. How old are you?
6. Did you enjoy this questionnaire?

Thank you for your participation! Please enjoy the rest of your stay here at Basecamp Leviathan.


fossils: (pic#8212312)

[personal profile] fossils 2021-05-01 07:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ He's always, always glad to hear it.

The shield flies in a blur of light and sound. A faint, automatic part of his brain is doing silent (unnecessary) calculations in the back of his head, but his main focus remains on the mutant rat trying to take a chunk out of him and whipping tentacles every which way. It's an almost rhythmless dance of movement between them, he manages to keep one step ahead while backing up. ]


Right behind you. [ Calling over his shoulder. Which, he is not exactly right behind him yet. But two seconds later and there's another shriek from his dance partner as the blade of his spear slashes across its eyes.

Won't do much to stop a creature that lives in the dark, but it's enough of a distraction for him to turn and run full speed toward Sam and the scientist.

Just a matter of him climbing out the hole after them. ]


Can you close it up? [ Called out to Sam as he scales the hard packed dirt and rock, lifting himself clear of the entrance.

There's little chance of more survivors farther in— but he can be certain that a small army of these things is about to follow them out. If he's got anything explosive in his pack, now would be a good time. ]
restoral: ([famira]G7FXUHR)

[personal profile] restoral 2021-05-01 07:25 am (UTC)(link)
I'm fine.

[ It's not even that Bucky's unhappy to see Sam. They've come a long way, but that doesn't change the fact that Bucky feels like the rugs been yanked out from under him in a big way and it slams all of his defenses back up.

He sighs. There's more venom in the way he'd answered than he'd really meant, so he tries again, voice a little more even this time.
]

I'm as fine as I'm going to be right now, Sam.
trassel: (Default)

[personal profile] trassel 2021-05-01 07:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ The briefing had been thorough. These people want to lose so few of each other, they send strangers with their hopes. Matthias nods. ]

I aim to avoid other conflict. It will interfere with the rescue mission.

[ It could slow them down. It might cost lives. He has no desire and no impulse to prove anything, only finish this and preserve what life they can. Even here, poisonous as the rain is, life has always come from the water. Djel's embrace will not be denied them simply because they are somewhere else. ]
fossils: (pic#14157040)

[personal profile] fossils 2021-05-01 07:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ Bucky's hand falls away and his gaze follows, turned inward and not really seeing it. Lags a few seconds behind in processing, casting his half distracted gaze on the figures past the bars before being drawn back to Bucky, lips parting wordlessly as wariness gives up ground to confusion. ]

Pal, I'm gonna need you to tell me something, how you're here, because—

[ He trails off as if he's lost all of his words, features tight as his mouth twists into another pained grimace.

You're gonna have to give him something, or give him another minute. ]
unclesam: ((77))

[personal profile] unclesam 2021-05-01 07:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ Sam huffs a short laugh at that himself. Because... well, fair enough. He still can't quite believe Walker showed up in New York. Crawling up out of the sewers and pipes seems like a logical next step. ]

Thanks for covering him, by the way. Wasn't exactly itching on being in arm's reach again.
dissemblance: (pic#14842216)

natasha romanoff | mcu (does anyone still care about endgame spoilers??)

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 07:31 am (UTC)(link)
 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙

not her first alien planet. given the way her week is going, probably not her last. she hits the ground running, because the problem with having a purpose is that it doesn't go away just because you've died. thanos left vormir without his daughter, they'd all assumed dead. but she isn't. she draws breath. has a pulse. pinching herself sure didn't do anything out of the ordinary.

she has a list of priorities born of ruthless precision, but spiders are patient by their nature. something about good things and those who wait.

she minds her p's and q's. plays nice. she considers lying, when they ask her name. decides, ultimately, that she died natasha romanoff, and she deserves to belong to herself in whatever comes after.

natasha slings a leg over the bench to straddle it and takes a seat beside a stranger. she studies their plate a moment and then, in a conspiratorial whisper:


I'm pretty sure my broccoli's bigger. Wanna swap?

these are some pretty sad vegetables, honestly.


 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘

all business. there are places where a spy beats a soldier, but the battlefield? she knows which she prefers. she moves with purpose, shield slung over her shoulder not unlike a certain someone of her acquaintance, and a bag slung crosswise on her body. ammunition — what could be spared, anyway.

You know, for a murderous planet full of things that want to kill us, you have to admit there's nothing wrong with that view.

it's said lightly with a sideways look at her companion. does she mean the sky? the dragon? the weird plants? who knows.


 𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 @𝑑𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑒𝑣𝑠𝑘𝑦

Anyone want to trade 'venomous rat tail' for 'carnivorous plant spores'? I've almost got an an alien planet bingo. It'd really make my day.

irreverent? sure. but it's not every day you come back from the dead.

there's a repeating frequency embedded in her message, heavily encoded. the frequency itself sounds a little like dance of the cygnets. what lies beneath it, though, needs a cipher to crack. a day in the life of ivan denisovich, a copy helpfully provided by the smartwatch's impressive library. the combination of letters and words otherwise all but meaningless. anyone who takes the time to figure it out will find themselves looking at a message that simply says 'HELLO MCFLY — HOW WAS PROM? ;)'



wildcard me, pm for a starter, world's our oyster, etc.
Edited 2021-05-01 07:32 (UTC)
dissemblance: (pic#14842276)

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 07:36 am (UTC)(link)
Water into wine would go over killer with this crowd.
ketterdam: (pic#14848029)

[personal profile] ketterdam 2021-05-01 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
I'm listening.
freightcars: (154)

[personal profile] freightcars 2021-05-01 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
( That's a sudden reversal back into his first impulse, and while it's not enough to give him whiplash it's plenty enough to get him off his guard. Pick a lane, would you? )

How am I here? How are you here? When we talked you didn't exactly mention a pit-stop as a scrambled egg on your way back.

( Doesn't exactly look like retirement in this holding cell.

If it is, count him out, thanks. )


You're supposed to be gone. Way out of stuff like... whatever the hell this is.

( Otherwise, what was the point of you leaving? )
freightcars: (bucky-104-00086)

sup mf I do what i want

[personal profile] freightcars 2021-05-01 07:39 am (UTC)(link)
( The mess hall is full of life, particularly with the new arrivals finally joining the larger population. It's not the general chatter and buzz he minds, it's that he's sitting at a table all by himself enjoying his disgusting protein gravy (you know what, he's had worse MREs before) when a particularly chatty resident scoots up next to him and starts hitting him with a barrage of questions.

So you're human, huh?
You get here with everybody else?
Cool arm, how'd you get it?
You ever punch anybody with it?
You don't talk a lot, huh?


He stares at them for what feels like a very long series of seconds, before deliberately wrapping his hands around his tray and standing up without a word. Nary a single question answered as he walks away, instead spotting a table with a familiar and (hopefully) less grating face.

He drops down across from her without greeting or preamble, annoyance in his posture, eyes already on his fork-napkin combo and very dutiful about the business of finally getting to shovel food in his face. He speaks with his eyes on his tray, sounding distracted and maybe a little too casual. )


Seen the giant dragon yet?

( From the outside, he means.

Also hello, the last he heard you were dead and also one time he shot you through the hip but he assumes they're cool what with the fighting aliens thing so. Who knows. Polite uncertainty is for the weak, and he is tired. )
freightcars: (126)

[personal profile] freightcars 2021-05-01 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
Pretty sure he could come down on a cloud and ferment the ocean and it still wouldn't be enough wine to deal with this
fossils: (Default)

@rogers

[personal profile] fossils 2021-05-01 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
This place really makes you miss pizza rat.
freightcars: (004)

[personal profile] freightcars 2021-05-01 07:44 am (UTC)(link)
( There's a pause, and a slight squint.

Well, we say slight. Really, it's more a discerning stare.
)

Covering him?

( Last thing he remembers is maybe rattling his confidence at most, he's not exactly sure that's what he'd call it. )
dissemblance: (pic#8645201)

'scene of the slime' made me shriek

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 07:45 am (UTC)(link)
maybe she's curious. maybe she's restless. maybe she's watched alien too many times and would rather not leave facehuggers to the imagination. maybe she's here for an answer.

she doesn't find one, by the way.

but what she does find is a sword. weighted, balanced. sharp, when she slides it a few inches out and tests its edge with her thumb. when the boy asks for it, she puts on her best skeptical-yet-tolerant expression, the sort she wears around her nieces and nephews, and says:


Really? Cosplay prop?

it isn't. no one who's ever been a weapon could mistake that. but she hasn't committed to a double identity one way or another, and for now she's playing it easy.
dissemblance: (pic#14842330)

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 07:48 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, come on. That's quitter talk.
cryptoherpetology: (073)

Alex Price | InCryptid

[personal profile] cryptoherpetology 2021-05-01 07:51 am (UTC)(link)
Cracking the Egg

For someone who's bred countless animals that hatch from eggs, Alex doesn't actually connect that that's what he's doing until he's on the floor, wiping goo out of his eyes which do not have his glasses in front of them. That's a bigger problem for his vision than the goop- which, to be honest, while gross, isn't the most disgusting thing he's been covered in. Between the gun in his face being fuzzier than it should be and feeling like his body weighs about four times as much as it should, there's not a lot he can do to avoid the containment cell.

He's quiet when locked up, though clearly actively listening to what everyone around him is saying. There's no use in trying to fight something before he has any idea what it is- or where he is, for that matter.

On the third day, he's getting really tired of squinting. When someone sits down next to him, he can't help but blurt out:]


What do you think the chances of there being an optometrist here are?

Field Work

[Thank god someone had thought to look in the egg he'd broken out of for his glasses, and that he'd opted for the scratch-proof coating when he'd last gotten his prescription updated. "You might fall into a new reality and be expected to pull your weight" hadn't been on his mind at the time, but with his family and his luck, it wouldn't be too outlandish if he had.

Maybe that's why he seems to be taking all the strangeness of this world in stride. In stride doesn't mean blasé, though- he's using his smartwatch to record dictated field notes about the terrain, the rate of the acid rainfall, and thoughts on what kind of wildlife would live in an ecosystem like this. It has the benefit of keeping him aware of his surroundings while also providing him with a security blanket of sorts in the form of the life sciences. Nothing around him is familiar, he's on a different world, but the scientific method still works exactly the same way.

He does, eventually, realize that he should probably talk to the other people there instead of his future self.]


These scientific field teams clearly need better training if they're coming out here often. My grandmother always said to treat filed work like going to war; eat when you can, sleep when you can, and don't get any drunker than anyone around you.

I don't think these people have met my grandmother. [He's not ruling it out though. Alice Healy-Price's trips around the backroads of the multiverse are frequent enough to have gained her something of a reputation in the right (and wrong) circles.]

Rat Warren

[Oh thank god, something familiar. Not that he's seen creatures like this before exactly, but shooting at things that look like escaped science experiments while they try to maul and eat everything around them? He's in his element here.

He counted out his ammunition on the walk over, and is counting each shot that he squeezes off, getting better at predicting the movements of the creatures the longer he watches them, and methodically clears out a path to one of the injured scientists.]


Go [He reloads while he says it.] I'll keep them off you as much as I can, but be careful at that half-bend, I won't have a clear shot until you're past that rock there.
freightcars: (100)

[personal profile] freightcars 2021-05-01 07:51 am (UTC)(link)
Sorry Fyodor, but I could start chugging the moscato atlantic and it wouldn't do a damn thing. Kind of a biological quirk.

No point playing if you don't get to lose.
dissemblance: (pic#14842265)

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 07:53 am (UTC)(link)
let me go. she remembers that. the fall. something of the impact lingers in some distant part of her mind. neurons firing, she imagines. some people say sound is the last thing to fade, she heard —

well, it doesn't matter what she heard.

except what followed didn't last. she woke up. unexpected, but not entirely surprising. after all, the world they live in — who can even say what's normal anymore?

she wonders distantly if she should be angry at barton. if this means they failed, or worse. or if this is just some nebulous afterlife, with a long, long line of people sacrificed on that altar. too many possibilities. too many probabilities. she doesn't dwell — speculation is useless without more information, and the locals are running a pretty tight ship.

by the time she showers, digs the goo out of a few unfortunate places, she's realized that rogers and barnes are both here, and that window of diminishing returns is fogged with the uncertainty of it all. barnes is dust and rogers has never met a death he couldn't cheat — so she lets that be enough. above her paygrade. where's fury when you need him? she still avoids them. it's easy. a borrowed hoodie, a change in body language, she all but disappears into the crowd. it's not that she doesn't want to talk to them, necessarily, it's just — she wants to be alone.

that solace lasts a day or two. figures it'd be barnes to break it.

when he comes to join her, her eyes track him. the arm. the hair. he looks older. at a guess, he's lost muscle mass. everything about him seems careworn. but there's an ease to how he moves that she has no memory of. and that's — something only time could give him. time free of the conditioning, free of the words that bit into his psyche. time he never had, before they went back for the stones.

by the time he speaks, she's already decided: mission success. they reversed the snap. brought everyone back. so that's one thing off her list.

he's being careful with her. not meeting her eyes, not asking any questions when all roads might lead to, fancy meeting you here, here's a penny for the ferryman. it's not done in the way a man from his era coddles a woman. not in the way a soldier comforts someone in the trenches. guilt and knowledge — you've got a killer's cocktail of remorse. she tilts her head to one side and smiles at him, but it's the smile of pulled strings, very little warmth touches it.


I would've thought the universe ran out of things to surprise me with by now.

yes, barnes, she's seen the dragon.

I dig the hair. Very boyband.
dissemblance: (pic#14841668)

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
How very New York of you.

If we run into one named Splinter do you think he'll introduce me to Donatello?


'hello fellow kids'.
unclesam: ((41))

[personal profile] unclesam 2021-05-01 07:59 am (UTC)(link)
Doin' the staring thing again there.

[ More an observation than a jab, a hint of confusion seeping into Sam's own features. ]

When we split up following Karli. Remember?

[ Bucky and lapses in memory are not a good combination. ]

C'mon, man, it wasn't that long ago.
dissemblance: (pic#14842145)

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 08:03 am (UTC)(link)
106. I saw. I don't think I've met a centenarian who doesn't end all their texts with 'Love, Memaw'.

Let's get the obvious question out of the way: are you going to be sparkling in sunlight any time soon?
fossils: (pic#14157036)

[personal profile] fossils 2021-05-01 08:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ how else is everyone supposed to know he's from new york if he doesn't mention it AT LEAST every other day ]

So hey.

They've got movies.


[ that's a big ol' nope on that one ]
dissemblance: (pic#14842176)

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 08:07 am (UTC)(link)
Oh yeah?

Anything worth missing my daily allotment of gruel and wilted broccoli over?
freightcars: (bucky-104-00051)

[personal profile] freightcars 2021-05-01 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
First of all, it would be Bubbe. What the hell is Memaw?
Second of all
No, everything about those movies was an insult to Bram Stoker
Probably rolled around in his grave so much he had to drive a stake through his own heart
freightcars: (162)

[personal profile] freightcars 2021-05-01 08:12 am (UTC)(link)
( Steve's been trying to get it out of him. He can't put into words why he doesn't think it's a good idea, just that he doesn't — and it's more than half to do with spotting red hair beneath a hood a couple dozen yards away. Didn't say anything, gave her space, but it's a small camp. It was never gonna last.

She could be from before, like Steve. He's got no way of knowing, and if she is then he's the last god damn person on the planet — any planet — that ought to be breaking the news to her. That would be a Sam thing, if Sam were here. A Steve thing, if it weren't for... well, see above. The plan is to probe, see what answer he gets off of her, and decide from there whether or not to ask her about her postmortem secrecy preferences.

Also, they're technically aliens now, so. Priorities.

He flashes her a flat, unimpressed look that lasts all of about two seconds and lacks any real conviction. Boyband.

Thanks.

His concentration shifts back to chopping everything up and mixing it together into one sort casserole-style mixture. That's the trick. Everything makes everything else taste a little less bad. You put it together and it pretends to have flavor. )


You talk to Steve?

( Somewhere down beneath all those other significantly important things to work through comes priority four or five: figuring out how to make amends for almost choking somebody to death and leaving a permanent scar on their body. It's gonna be a hell of an awkward apology, so. He's gonna work up to it for a while. )