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Entry tags:
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.
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:
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.
☆ 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:
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.
☆ 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:
"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!
☆ 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:
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.
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.
no subject
is this what it felt like for steve? eggs instead of ice. she'll have to ask. ） ）
No.
（ she makes it a challenge, almost. she meets his gaze unwaveringly, and lifts that little cup in a gesture of 'cheers'. za tvajo zdarovje, barnes. there was a time when he might have frightened her, but even that old instinct has gone quiescent. fear seems far away, even though by rights she should feel it down to her fingertips. ）
How'd he take it? Rogers, I mean.
（ how many people think that the winter soldier was just a dog to heel? he's tinker, tailor, soldier and spy all wrapped up in one. the strong — well, left hand, she supposes, of hydra. he's as good at this game as she is, and he's been at it before she was born. it's why she asks — direct path, shortest distance. because she can already tell he's trying to ferret her out, and phrasing it that way could be taken either of three ways: she means either rogers seeing him like this, or how he's responded to being here, or barnes telling rogers she's dead. because he'd know, if what she suspects is correct. steve would have told him the cost, or someone else would have, and he'd know he survived to get that terrible haircut because she didn't.
and if that's the case, he'd know just as well that she doesn't want his pity. ）
no subject
If you squint.
He maintains that's different than pity. )
He doesn't know yet.
( Stick this down on the list of common misconceptions people seem to have come to about their dynamic: contrary to popular belief, Bucky does not tell Steve everything. He's not Captain America's plucky sidekick, bound by all the laws of comic book honor to be a direct conduit of any and all info that may be relevant to the man with the shield.
Some things, he thinks, Steve is better off not knowing. At the very least, he's better off not knowing until the right time. Seeing as Natasha's death belongs to her, it's up to her to determine what that time is.
By way of further explanation, he adds tiredly: )
Time travel.
( H.G. Wells made it sound way cooler on paper. )
no subject
You know, I think I would have preferred a DeLorean.
（ but it worked. that's the thing about sacrifice — you don't stick around for the final act. it worked. her little family (she'd quoted lilo and stitch at rogers once) did the impossible. it won't be easy. she lacks the naivety to think that the world will just spin on, that people will be reunited, that countries will welcome these new refugees with open arms.
do you know, the global average temperature dropped by nearly a full degree, because the dust of the dead hung out in a hazy mist in the upper atmosphere? whales in the hudson. not the only thing that changed.
she isn't hungry anymore, but she eats because the body needs it, one determined forkful at a time.
the thing is — she isn't going to ask. her death is her business but whatever barnes decides to tell rogers is his, and she isn't going to look at him coyly, up from her plate, bat her lashes and say, i need a favor. she's just going to take it on faith, that he knows she'd rather it not be known.
i don't want a funeral, she'd told steve once. they were watching a sunset together, and for once the world hadn't been ending around them. it was some time after peggy's service, where she sat in a pew and thought about all the things that life could have given him. could have given them both. do me a favor — next time someone finds a new species of spider, name it after me?
barnes might know if he ever made good on his promise, but steve, it seems, will not.
she chews a particularly rubbery piece of protein with the stoic tolerance of someone to whom flavor is a luxury, and then: ）
What about you?
（ how're you taking it? being here. being back. she doesn't really mean her death, though at least it's a safe topic for gallow's humour. he can take his pick of what he wants to discuss — she is no stranger to empathy. it's a stone's throw from pity, but from him, she decides it's tolerable. it's not any more weight to carry than the rest. ）
no subject
( He answers in casual deadpan; toneless, dry, irreverent. )
Thought about putting it over bagpipes, but I figured we weren't personal enough for Danny Boy.
( He knows she doesn't mean how'd you take my death. In terms of interactions, he thinks he can count the number they've had on one hand. Bullet through the hip, unpleasant interaction on an overpass, choking her out on a table. She saved his ass in Leipzig, and they got a little time in Wakanda pre-battle. Aside from that, not a damn thing that would have them grieving one another in any concrete facet.
He's just dodging the how are you doing, because she left enough obscurity to the question that he can get away with it. )
Got a real touching interpretive dance choreography for you, though. Think it's a winner.
( You could take that to mean 'I'm fine' or 'I'm terrible' and probably be a little bit right either way. )
no subject
（ down came the rain and washed the spider out. her smile is still something done to lure in prey — she has no web, no spider-silk to gauge vibrations, but she has other ways of springing traps — yet there's something to it that's less wintry now. ）
So, what do you make of this place so far? （ she bites into the broccoli stalk, which squishes rather than snaps. ） One of my stranger kidnappings, and I once woke up in handcuffs and latex in a corn maze in Vermont.
（ truth? fiction? who can say with her. ）
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( He says, lifting up his cup of coffee and letting it hover near his mouth as he thinks. )
They're running down to the end of their rations and they just got a bunch of new mouths to feed. We're living in a giant skeleton. I woke up in an egg, and so did my gun. This is the worst coffee I've ever had, and that's saying something. Plus, some of these locals are practically salivating over new blood, so... Could be better.
( It means they're either gonna have to start pulling their weight immediately to look great but consequently draw a ton of attention to themselves, or fly under the radar but take up resources and ultimately breed resentment. Neither option sounds great, and he's not sure they're equipped to survive on their own until they understand more about the plant and animal life around here. Hell, they don't even have the first clue what's even edible.
He raises his cup, pauses before he actually tilts it, and lowers it a few centimeters again to skeptically ask: )
Vermont?
( Like that's the part he's having a hard time buying. )
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（ salivating, but not the wrong kind of salivating. fighting off cannibals, oddly, never made her bucket list. these people seem friendly enough in that way she's come to associate with basic human decency — they're wary, but they're looking after them. were willing to take them in. give them clothing, share their food. sure, they higher ups are being brusque, but they could have killed them, especially in that first day that felt like the worst post-chloroform headache she'd ever had. they wouldn't have even needed to do it themselves — they could have staked them all outside and let the rain do its work.
right. vermont.
she sucks her teeth momentarily in something almost like apology. ）
Sorry, Barnes. Saving that story for the tell-all book about my glorious resurrection. You'll have to wait. （ a beat. then: ） I'll sign your copy, though. If you ask nicely.
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[ It'll have been difficult for either of them to miss as he approached their table with his plastic plate of uneaten, but he'd gotten lucky just a moment earlier, out of both their lines of sight. Got to watch them for a minute unnoticed.
If he had to pick two people to be stranded on an alien planet with...
So there's a tired, lopsided smile as he takes a seat next to Natasha without needing to wait for an answer-- and a bit of a sidelong glance at Bucky, the same one he's been giving him for the past couple of days. ]
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( He drawls conversationally, steadfastly ignoring that look that he's been ignoring for days and will continue to ignore for even more days.
Come on, Rogers. )
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（ （ rogers (exhibit a) is not, in fact, too delicate for this or any other sort of talk, but she does love to tease. she lets him sit beside her, even nudges her shoulder in against his. it's almost alarming how young he seems, after everything. ）
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Vermont?
[ Like that's the weirdest part of that sentence. ]
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（ she takes a rather obnoxious bite of her slop, and mirrors steve's skeptical scrutiny, one eyebrow faintly raised. ）
I meant to ask. How would you say this compares? It's not a dame on a plywood set and a vintage baseball game, but I feel like you're old hat at waking up in futures unknown by now.
（ it might sound callous to anyone that knew steve's story, and didn't know natasha's. but it's what they've fallen into — this i know you can take it camaraderie that serves them so well. ）
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His amusement fades by a degree at the question though. Pulls in a long breath and glances at Bucky again. ]
Can't complain with the company this time around. [ That much is true, adds the familiar warmth back to his expression. He jerks his head to the side, nudging her with his shoulder and nodding with a sober look. ]
Still feeling a bit left out, though. Everyone went and got new haircuts.
[ He'll know how he feels when he gets the full story. ]
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He spends a few seconds shaking his head like he's disapproving or disappointed, and shoveling down too-big spoonfuls of goop-casserole. Mouth half full, he offers: )
I could buzz it if you want. Probably do a star if you hold still long enough.
( In other words: message received and promptly ignored. )
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(and he's got no reason in the moment to think too hard about how Natasha might be from any time period other than five and a half-ish years from now, same as Bucky)
He rolls his eyes, glancing at Natasha. ]
He went to school for accounting.
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So that's how it's gonna be, huh?
( The long, slow drawl of a man scorned. )
Fresh out of the egg and then straight under the bus. Nine hundred years of friendship and this is what I get to show for it. That's great. Thank you. Really. I mean it.
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（ she leans back in her seat, raises her arms and arranges her fingers in mimicry of a picture frame, squinting at barnes through the space as if it were a magic portal capable of rendering him into such an outfit. then she leans over into steve's space, hands still aloft, for him to 'see' the same.
with an exaggerated nudge to his shoulder: ）
I bet he can do complex equations in his head. What a nerd.
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They drop back down to his food a second later where he smirks a little, exasperated but amused. )
Yeah, well... the Winter Tax Accountant just didn't have the same ring to it.
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Been a rough three weeks.
Not sure he can call this situation a win, but it's something.
Gives it a minute before he puts a pin in it. Turns his glance to Natasha, still with a lopsided grin that's only just sobering as he asks with another nod toward her. ]
So how's the future been treating you?
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she likes this one best. when he's just steve.
she gives him a smile, warmth suffusing her chest, and then she lies without missing a beat: ）
Oh, you know. A few new scars. Chipped my nailpolish more than I'd like. （ a sideways glance as she picks up her cup again. ） We beat Thanos, did Barnes tell you? I think the laws of time travel mean we aren't actually allowed to tell you anything about how it went down — a little birdie told me once it might change the future — but we did it, Steve.
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Whose laws?
[ But he nods again, yeah, he told me. ]
Sounds like the fallout's gonna be complicated. [ Is complicated. Five years in a blink for half the world. But there's relief in his voice, the softening of his expression again. They did it. That's what matters. ]
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（ she reaches over to steal a forkful of food slop off his plate. she doesn't need to — she's got her own, and it's all the same. but it's the principle of the thing. that subtle invasion of space. the ease and familiarity of it. those five years were long and terrible and steve's company was all she had some days, to make it easier. she got used to inviting herself over to his apartment, stealing his shirts and watching bad romcoms with her legs across his lap.
he doesn't have those memories, but he's generally been pretty easy going about her inserting herself into whatever it is he's doing, taking her in stride. flaws and all. some people think he's naïve, but that's not it. you can hope for the best in people and still brace for the worst. steve cares for her and she's made peace with that — and she's also pretty sure he accepts the fact she'd still kill him if she had to.
(would she? still, after all this time? maybe that's giving herself too much credit. or too little.)
it's a rare man that trusts her to save his life.
she looks at him askance, and then: ）
The fallout's always complicated. All we can do is go forward.
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( He speaks up again, tone carefully level but still distinctly unhappy. The fork comes down and he shifts backward, settling against the seat in a way that might almost look lazy.
Tired, more than anything. )
Some people aren't happy about things going back to normal. There's been some push-back, starting to get messy.
( Which is something Natasha won't know, so if Steve asks... well, she could lie her ass off, but it's easier to lie when you know the truth in the first place. If he can draw questions about the state of the world toward himself instead, that's the better alternative. )
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