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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
The rain continues to make it too hard to keep up a conversation without shouting, and the slippery, overrun terrain keeps them too busy to have that talk for most of the trek back to base camp. It's only when they reach the aid station and see the wounded handed over to the medics that they peel away from the rest of the group, walking around the inner perimeter of the Leviathan's massive rib cage.
Steve's been looking over at Sam from time to time, a familiar and fond kind of smile faintly tugging at his mouth. Like he's gotta keep looking, just to make sure he's still there each time.
A month might've well been five years for how long it's felt since he last saw him. ]
Bucky mentioned you've been getting into some trouble... [ he starts, giving him that same look as before. ]
Looks good on you, Sam.
[ The suit. The shield.
Bucky hadn't mentioned that part. You could fill a dragon's corpse with all the things Bucky's left out about the past five years. ]
no subject
And what's Sam willing to share?
So for a while there, they sneak glances. Sam's missed Steve for a mere 6 months, and those already feel like a lifetime. They were good before, but then they spent two entire years living in each other's back pockets alongside Natasha, on the run and in hiding. And then... well, then Sam lost 5 years. Remembers falling to ash and dust, and then coming to in the same spot, only somehow 5 years had passed.
And now it's been 6 months since Steve's retirement.
At the compliment, Sam can't help but huff a soft laugh, glancing down and shaking his head a little in amusement. ]
Buck's been running his mouth, hm?
[ Fond, though. Where Sam's from, they're friends, and he stands as firmly in Bucky's corner as he knows Bucky to be in his. Still not done giving the old man shit, of course. ]
Wanna catch me up on where you at?
no subject
His hands go into his pockets as he walks, chin dipping slightly as he breaks from looking at Sam to staring at the ground ahead of him. ]
Five years behind everyone else, by the sound of it. [ Tips his head to one side, still grinning faintly but with distance now. It's a slight pause, and from there his wry humor fades to something more somber. ]
Been a few weeks since we lost. Tony made it back in rough shape with the help of a couple of friends. Managed to track Thanos down, but...
[ Doesn't need to tell you the rest, huh? A beat, then, glancing over with an odd look, eyebrows raised as he scrutinizing Sam's features. ]
Buck won't tell me much else, but I hear we get almost everyone back.
jfc this got away from me - please forgive the slow
Yeah.
That's just a whole mess.
It's so unbelievably good to see Steve again. Makes Sam ache, too. Something dull and heavy, like an all new kind of grief. ]
Yeah... gotta level with you man, I don't even know where to begin unpacking all this. Or if I should. Ain't that a time travel thing? Don't tell people the future?
[ At the same time, there's things here he can't just... not say. His own grief sits too hard on his shoulders for that, and the evidence in the same of the shield...
Does he give that back, now? To a Steve who never passed it on to begin with? How does he unpack that? ]
it's all good, I am also a snail these past 2 weeks
Unless you remember me getting locked up on an alien planet, not sure that it matters.
[ It's the same discussion (argument) he's been having with Bucky. Who's to say things go exactly the same way they remember it, now that he's here. And he's as hellbent as the rest of them to get home and set things right, but beyond that there's no guarantees.
A moment passes, and he nods at the shield on Sam's arm. ]
How's it been treating you?
[ The elephant in the room. Seeing Sam holding it doesn't drum up any kind of possessiveness on his end. Twice now he's given that shield up. It's his muscle memory that aches sometimes, misses the weight of on his own arm, his shoulders. It's habit.
He's got no actual inclination to ask for it back now that it's been passed to his friend. ]
no subject
[ It's meant to come out more lighthearted than he ends up sounding. Sam looks away and up for a moment, then down at the ground. Swallows, hard.
It's not easy, grieving the loss of both people he'd lived with for two years, the people he considered his closest friends and allies. And now this planet's made him lose Bucky in the most roundabout way. Not-family and not-partner turned as bitter and distant as they'd both been at the start of their little reunion tour.
Sam's not proud to admit that he's been avoiding the guy a bit. Hasn't exactly wanted to show up with the suit Bucky doesn't remember getting for Sam, and the shield Bucky doesn't remember reclaiming together with Sam. An apology Sam had desperately needed, scattered to dust like Sam remembers turning into. Fixing the boat. It's the stuff that mattered and is now gone, and he's not sure if he can say the things he knows Bucky deserves to hear when the guy's in no place to meet Sam where he needed to be met.
Goddamn mess. And a gnawing pit in his stomach.
Sam looks at Steve like he's about to beg. ]
Before we play 20 questions on how this happened, I'm gonna need you to tell me you never heard the name Isaiah Bradley.
no subject
Eyebrows knit together, and if it had gone tight just a moment ago his chest is twisting up now to see Sam giving him that look. ]
Doesn't ring a bell. [ he shakes his head, his voice low and steady, a slip of wariness now after his conversation with Bucky. Walking blind. Not sure if he's gonna step on a landmine or if he is the landmine here.
Got a damn near perfect memory though, so he can be more sure of his answer than most people. ]
Why?
Sam "conceal don't feel" Wilson
For a moment, Sam thinks of fixing fishing nets, of an impossible number of small strands woven together to a large whole.
Sam mirrors Steve's position, halting, and after a moment crosses his arm. Closed off body language, but truth be told in Sam's it's less defensive and more a way to ground himself and pull his thoughts together.
The relief in his eyes is thick, though, the way he breathes out slow and even. Not anger - just a flicker of tension, braced for the off chance of catching a blow he really didn't wanna feel. But there's no reason to doubt the truth of Steve's statement. And Sam didn't really believe Steve knew, not really, but the confirmation out loud settles something in his chest Sam wasn't quite aware had still been ill at ease. ]
Peace of mind, I guess.
[ Isaiah happened after Steve's time, but Sam's not sure what might have trickled down the information line through one source or another anyway.
Sam looks away again, shakes his head a little before meeting Steve's eyes again, a little more settled. They're still way out of step here, but... Sam's soldiered on through worse. And he's nothing if not stubborn about building connective tissue with his people. This Steve's out of context, but he's still Steve. And for Sam, it wasn't like 5 years went by in which to move on - for him, his two years of living with Natasha and Steve ended just 6 months ago, and then he came back to lose them both. The wound's still damn raw, and it occupies the same scar tissue on his heart that Riley holds domain over. ]
So... they call it the Blip. Which is your first sign that someone screwed up, because I mean... if that ain't a stupid word for half the population rubberbanding back into existence after 5 years, I don't know what is. That's real bad for your credit score, if you're curious.
[ That sure is one way to steer into the conversation. The humour, at least, is genuine, if not entirely unburdened. ]
killing me softly in the best way
Three weeks after the battle and it still hadn't sunk in, everything they lost. Mourning meant taking time he wouldn't allow himself, not alone and not surrounded by a room full of those left behind, hellbent on finding Thanos and undoing what he'd done.
Somehow, hatching out of a goddamn egg on an alien planet felt less like a strange dream than finding Sam and Bucky back again, just like that. And that's not even accounting for the missing time. Five years lost.
Still trying to process that they fixed it.
You got no idea how bad I need to believe that, is what he first told Bucky. Still feeling it.
(he doesn't have time to deal with his guilt about their loss either, not gonna put it on them now)
Can't seem to figure out what to do with his own arms now. They don't cross over his chest, his hands don't rest akimbo at his hips. He just stands there, all of time seeming to stop with that incongruous mix of tension and relief humming between them. In four years it's never been like this between them. Two years on the run together leaves little secrets between two people. They've always been in step. Always on the same page, or it felt that way.
(kept seeing him in the corner of his eye that first week, kept swearing he heard him in the next room)
This is time he tries for that light huff, head tilting in a conceding motion. ]
I bet. [ This part he got from Bucky, at least. But his mouth twists at one side, a furrow at his brow for the unanswered part of his last question. ]
So who's Isaiah Bradley, and what's he got to do with it?
[ Because the name was important enough for you to ask him about, and then try to push off to the side again. ]
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Except...
Sam swallows the doubt down. Not the place, and not the thing to clear up right now.
He should have known better than to hope Steve would drop it, because they're cut from the same stubborn cloth. And he was angry this was kept from him, from the world. He doesn't want to get into all of this right now, but then again, he brought the man up, needed that little lift to the weight on his shoulders. Just right that Steve would want the context. ]
Yeah, I wouldn't let myself off that hook either.
[ He deflates a little, but meets Steve's eyes. This is something he knows Steve can't understand, same as Bucky couldn't begin to for a while. Generational trauma like this sits deep. ]
Your successor. He and his squad were used for super soldier serum tests in the 50s, without their knowledge. It worked with him. Man, he was just like you. Still is, actually. Rickety old bastard with a shitty sense of humour. [ And this gets a genuine little quirk of the lips. It's a tease. ] Served loyally though. Fought the Winter Soldier one time. Went behind enemy lines without permission to save his squad before they could bombard the prison camps to hide evidence of the experiments. The evidence being the people they experimented on.
[ Sam swallows. There's a momentary clench in his jaw, an anger he smoothes away with practiced ease. 'Cause some people do not get to be as angry as they should be, and it becomes habit to keep a leash on that feeling. Even in the most trusted company. ]
But they weren't gonna let a black man be Captain America, right. So they locked him up. Experimented on him for 30 years to replicate that shit. They never sent out the letters he wrote his wife, and they erased him from existence. He's only out 'cause a nurse took pity and helped him fake his death.
[ His posture's still relaxed, but he's white-knuckling his grip on his own arm. ]
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None of should warrant surprise out of him. When he signed back up with SHIELD after the ice it was because he was drifting. He needed an anchor. He joined because it was Peggy's legacy, because Fury gave him a good pitch. Because if he couldn't keep himself moving it felt like he was going to fall straight through the floor, down a pit he couldn't afford to get caught in. Took him two whole years to find out who they'd really been working for all this time.
Sam doesn't say HYDRA when he explains. Doesn't say SHIELD. Doesn't matter when they all fall under the same umbrella, just shifting blame. Someone up top gave an order, and everyone down the chain followed. It's the same story. It's the same betrayal.
When Sam finishes his closes his eyes for a second, swallowing as his jaw goes tight. ]
I'm sorry, Sam. [ He shakes his head, gaze fixing on Sam's tightened grip for a few seconds before lifting to meet his eyes again, narrowed and imploring. ] I swear, I didn't know. I should've...
[ Should've guess that they'd keep trying after him, after Bucky. Howard never stopped trying to recreate it.
(two sides, same coin — it's a blood stained thread connecting Howard, Peggy, himself)
He pulls him a breath. Doesn't matter that he should've, or what he would've done if he'd known. A man still suffered, thirty years of his life stolen.
There's another pause, his mouth forming a thin line. Fought the Winter Soldier one time. ]
Bucky told you.
[ Not really a question. ]
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He'd been angry back then, and rightfully so, if ill-directed at the time. Regardless, that's not mutually exclusive with what is also true: ]
And he was right to keep it until then. Not his story to tell.
[ Sam's brows pull together, and he shifts forwards, a little into Steve's space deliberately, reaching that hand he briefly gestured with out to lightly knock the back of it against Steve's shoulder. The unease is unfurling. This is still several degrees of awkward, but he's levelled with Steve's choices, mourned his losses and made his peace with as much of it as he could. Steve doesn't owe him reparations for the damages suffered. Not like that. ]
Not my apology to accept, either. Or yours to give. This one ain't on you to fix. We got that covered. Just... I needed to hear you say it, is all.
[ A moment of hesitation, then he nods to himself more so than to Steve, and shifts his hand up to curls around the man's shoulder firmly. ]
I'm sorry. It's good to see you. Should've led with that.
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It's one more thing they gotta talk about.
But this isn't about him and Bucky right now. Not about his own guilt and anger either. He can push it down with Sam's hand on his shoulder. There's more he needs to know. More questions. We got that covered. A lot happens in those six months.
He's missed a lot.
He's missed Sam.
A little bit of the tension eases from his expression, lingering at the edges of his eyes and mouth when he smiles at him, lopsided and tight. He's not naturally tactile. Wasn't part of his upbringing, wasn't something he was even that conscious of until later. His hand lifts to grip Sam's forearm. ]
That makes two of us. [ He gives his arm a squeeze, brow furrowing through his smile. Nothing for Sam to apologize for either. ]
Just... glad to have you back.
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This Steve, here in front of him, has endured for weeks. There's a version of him that endures for 5 years, that fights himself bloody and broken all over again to fix everything. It traumatizes the whole world a second time. It pushes Steve to a breaking point, or so Sam thinks quietly. To a point where fleeing into a happiness away from all he gained must have seemed easier. It would be easy to resent that - Sam's been returned to find his life in shambles and trembling on the tightrope without a safety net, the world's been left a mess. He's chosen to fight to make it better. But at the end of the day he can't resent Steve for not holding out for that fight himself. How do you reconcile 5 years and trillions of lives throughout the galaxy for a man who's already shouldered too much?
Sam doesn't know. And perhaps it's a mercy that the Steve he finds himself reunited with is not one who felt that weight for more than a few no doubt horrifically painful weeks. ]
How are you, man? I mean, really.
[ Sam's eyes soften in response to the squeeze on his arm. He's mourned for half a year, but the truth is that the Steve who left into his own form of retirement and passed the shield along was barely the Steve Sam remembers. Five years are a long time. ]
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I'm good — [ his brow scrunches again, like he knows how believable that must sound ] — I'm better. Just so long as I don't wake up.
[ Half joke, half humming with the same tension that's been running through their conversation. Doesn't entirely feel real.
His eyebrows raise. ]
What about you? Your sister...
[ He'd checked on her early on when they were compiling the list of those missing and confirmed.
Two years on the run Sam had barely got to see her or his nephews. Then to lose five years...
You can accuse him of deflecting, but it's just as equally if not more just earnest concern. ]
here, I think that wraps this thread up neatly <3
Just so lang as I don't wake up.
How long did Sam dream about still flying missions and test run with Riley, every night? How long until he stopped seeing Riley out of hte corner of his eyes, until he stopped reaching for his phone to text a man who was no longer even there? ]
Sarah's... no longer technically my little sister, I guess. AJ and Cass jumped from vaguely person shaped worms to little men, and that... that's wild.
[ 7 years. And who knows how much he's missing now.
There's a lot he wants to say.
My nephews adore Bucky. He's good with them.
I failed you more than you failed me.
I need us to be good, but I feel like Walker right now - Just a dude in a costume, when the real Cap's right there.
He doesn't say any of it.
Instead... instead he smiles. Small at first, and then a grin. ]
She punched me. Can you believe that? Hard, too, not just a little. Right on the arm. Bet you, even you'd have felt it. I'm telling you, you got the wrong Wilson sibling...
[ And as they walk, he presses further for that. For easy. For talking about his sister, and his nephews. About how Delacroix changed and how it didn't.
Because they need a new baseline. Sam needs to connect them back together again, beyond mutual grief and the awkwardness of the legacy that sits on him no longer like a second skin and now like an imposter's costume. He pushes that away for now. And focuses on just... hanging out with Steve, like they've always done. Not as the Falcon and Captain America, not as two Captain Americas, just... Sam and Steve. 'cause they're good like that. And maybe once they've found their base line, maybe then it'll be easier to talk about the things they're both deflecting right now. ]