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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
It's not immediately apparent except that Ian looks at him funny, as though something is missing, or expected and not forthcoming. Whatever mild, sweet fondness was there dissipates immediately under a cloud of concern and the fingers at his neck squeeze ever so slightly.
It's worrying. The creak in his voice, the hint of urgency. ]
...um. Sure, I think our options are "utility closet" and "interrogation room."
no subject
If this weren't so serious... Tibet was a great vacation.
Heart > dick, let it be known.
Instead, he nods his head back toward the interrogation rooms, tugging Nate along with their hands still threaded. He only lets go once they're in, and it's so he can shut the door behind them. )
I can't... feel anything.
( And it occurs to him about three seconds after the earnest statement what that probably sounds like. He does a quick, jerky little shake of his head. Shaking the etch-a-sketch clear. )
I mean- that's not- I feel a lot. That's the problem. That's all I feel.
( Does that... make any sense? More tangible context, when he reaches out for Nate's hand again it's to sort of lift it up like he's making a point. )
no subject
The first statement sweeps the legs out from under him and Nate stares, uncomprehending, waiting for the follow up that requires several seconds to register. Thank God Ian does follow up, or they'd really have to have a difficult conversation.
He feels, but not- ]
...Oh.
[ The back of his hand cradled in Ian's he looks down at the contact that should be lighting him up inside, filling him with an unmistakable reflection of warmth, reminding him of the bond they've earned and (honestly) scaring him a little that it isn't there. The glowing isn't there either, and Nate's free fingers wander over his own chest for a moment, glancing down and seeing nothing. No vivid blue piece of a thing-that-wanted-to-be-a-god.
The implications hit slowly, then all at once. ]
Oh, crap.
no subject
He actually might have needed that, without even realizing it.
And it's gone.
Oh, crap. )
Yeah.
( Less a word and more an exhale, distinctly unhappy. Oh, crap is exactly right. Talk about taking things for granted.
Interestingly enough, where Nate's chest is unresponsive, Ian's is glowing subtly beneath his shirt. Probably not hard to connect the dots that he's trying, that he's activating the damn thing just like he would if he were putting up walls or something.
It's just... not doing anything. )
no subject
An empty space on the bed, next to him.
Nate works his jaw a little, hooking his finger in Ian's shirt to check and it's there, faint but there. "God" touched, a fragment left behind from another world. And what the Hell does he have? ]
Why are you glowing and I'm- I'm not? [ He looks up, searching, confusion and panic seeping into the corners. ] What's wrong with me?
no subject
Trying not to think about how much he'd like to push through the actual sensation of reassurance right now, because that's not helping. He aims instead for projecting through body language, because at least he's been able to do that for basically his whole life.
Calm, gentle, rational. Soothing, hopefully. )
Hey, hey, there's nothing wrong with you, not that I can tell. We'll figure it out, it's okay. I'll do math about it.
( Physically, mentally, emotionally, he seems the same as he did back there. )
The aliens probably figured you were badass enough without it, and took pity on me being a walking bag of posters on mitigating workplace violence.
no subject
Should have known a good thing wouldn't last, particularly since he'd finally gotten comfortable with it. He shouldn't be reacting like this - Ian is missing the power too, if it isn't simply muted for the time being. Who knows how long they were in those eggs?
All Nate can see is that faint, throbbing blue glow as it fades out again, all Nate can think about is how he doesn't have that anymore. Flying blind. ]
But I can't feel you.
[ He stresses, more anxious about the prospect of missing out on that than the other gifts it gave him. Quieter, measuring his breathing and leaning into the contact: ]
I can't feel you.
no subject
It's not the same as standing at a cliff side helplessly watching a young man ache with loss, but echoes of it are similar. The loss of the bond is nowhere near as harrowing, of course it isn't, but it still hurts, and he still feels almost as useless here.
He'll do math about it, he wasn't joking. The phrasing was meant to be light, but the grain of truth in it was very real. He'll figure something out, somehow. He just... can't do anything about it now.
Here, much like then, he erases the space between them for want of any better way to solve the problem. Forehead to forehead, nose to the side of nose, a gentle but urgent nudge. The hand still wrapped around Nate's pulls it in so he can flatten it against his own chest at the center of his ribs. )
I'll fix it.
( There's a completely unfounded confidence in his murmur, but his tendency to get obsessed with some things is inflating that stupid sense of certainty. )
Just be patient for me.
no subject
And he did.
And he can't do that anymore.
Nate's fingertips tense against the fabric of Ian's shirt and he nudges in, welcomed by the gesture but suddenly feeling far, far too raw for it. Even without the bond it's like swaying on that clifftop in Panama and he wants to scream with the frustration of it, that he can't see the way he's supposed to see, that he couldn't take one of the few good things that stupid world gave him. Fuck them. ]
Okay.
[ He doesn't believe it. He believes Ian will dedicate time and attention to it, that he'll do his best and work hard to find a solution, but the likelihood of solving the problem instead of just trying to learn to live with it is the reality that neither of them really want to face right now.
Just as swiftly as this wavering comes it fades again, old defense mechanisms clicking into place before he can help it. ]
No rush, I'm here for the foreseeable future.
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I'm right here.
You don't need to feel it to know.
We can find another way ourselves.
They're all cop-outs. They're all bullshit. He knows it's not the same, he knows the value of that feeling. He knows that he could be right here and a million miles away as far as Nate can tell, because he'd been plenty convincing in that shower but the feeling Nate picked up gave him the ability to spot and call that bluff.
And it's hard to convince himself he'll suddenly somehow change his brain patterns, his personality, to not need that clear and unquestionable reassurance to ground the fifteen different versions of reality he's trying to mentally juggle at once.
Fuck.
He can't feel the walls closing up, he can only notice the subtle tone shift. It could be him already overthinking it. He licks his lips, then chews the bottom one for a second.
Ultimately, he winds up murmuring steady, calm but rusty: )
You fucking better be.
( And he tips his chin up to press their mouths together finally, the kiss chaste but lingering.
Like that somehow even remotely communicates where his head is. Damn it. )
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But the context is different now, and where they both might have struggled on certain subjects they were permitted a sentimental shorthand to bridge the gap. Ian's panic that day in the shower after Nate carved out the thing that was off was genuine, and the likelihood that he might retreat again because it's easier without someone seeing is...an uncharitable thought, but a possibility.
He tries not to think about it overmuch, leaning into the gesture and startling from it only when that same stupid guard opens the door again and clears his throat obnoxiously loud. ]
We were- just...leaving...
[ Nate clarifies with tonal whiplash, reluctantly pulling back to give Benny a withering look. He imagines this is what being caught out under the bleachers is like, except the teacher is a security official who suddenly looks nervous that Nate might snap his neck like a toothpick. He winds one hand in Ian's, pulling him along. ]
C'mon.
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Thank you for the thematically appropriate interruption, man. Thank you. I appreciate that.
( He murmurs steadily in Benny's direction as they slip by, a level but non-confrontational drawl. Benny seems as puzzled as he is uncomfortable, and says nothing as they slip out.
He allows himself to be pulled along compliantly, frankly hoping that wasn't foreshadowing. Not exactly the reunion he'd been thinking about while sitting in an alien jail cell the last 48 hours. )
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He's good at this, knows what he's doing, even leans in to give him a quick peck goodbye. If Nate looked harder at it, he might consider it akin to one of those old photos of G.I.s heading off to their first tour, except he's dating an engineer and not a house wife, and the situation isn't even remotely as terrifying as it could be. So...maybe it's more like leaving the house to get groceries, except the groceries are scientists.
He's gone for hours, gets a little scraped up but ultimately trusts this new guy, Alex, to have his back, and they work well together. Everybody gets out relatively okay, the researcher in question might lose a toe, but it could be worse. He slogs back into base camp slick with slime and sweat, rat blood soaked into his only shirt, rifle slung over his shoulder. Turning in his weapon feels a bit uncomfortable after everything they just went through, but they've got their system.
Without following the others to the mess hall for a complimentary tot of heinous moonshine he veers in the direction of the showers, eager to look less like the inside of a meatgrinder than he currently does whenever he manages to locate familiar faces.
Which is about the time he realizes that the guy about ten feet in front of him looks like- ]
Ian?
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The next stop afterward is the allotted three minutes he has to scrub rat blood out of his hair, and he makes it there not much earlier than Nate. He's shrugging off his over shirt — sleeve a little eaten through with acid splatter, but not bad — when his braver half enters stage left. )
Hey, man.
( Thanks to drink number two it comes out calm, not quite as baseline-amused as normal, but that's easy to chalk up to the obvious relief he feels seeing Nate's okay. His coat absently hits the bench, abandoned in favor of ambling forth to clear half the distance between them.
Quick scope for injuries for the first two seconds, don't mind him. )
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[ He welcomes the not-so-subtle inspection with open arms and a bright smile, completely unfazed by his own appearance. Ian's, however, is just as grimy, wafting the unmistakable scent of tentacle rat den over Nate as the distance is closed between them. Which is weird. He shouldn't look or smell like that, and the confusion registers slowly on his face, like an engine sticking at ignition.
One palm slides under Ian's elbow, squeezing as Nate's forehead wrinkles in bemusement. ]
Why are you gross? I thought you were gonna be doing...engineering things?
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Deliberately not acknowledging the lack of an empathy bond that follows. )
Yeah, well...
( A little sway, a bob of his head. )
When I offered to do engineering things it turns out they just needed to engineer a rescue. ( Followed by a quick thought-jump, mildly affronted, thumb pointing vacantly over his shoulder at somebody not even in the room: ) Plus this French guy started talking about how scientists were the problem in the first place, so.
( Maybe he wasn't exactly cool with the insinuation he felt rolling off of that. )
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Nate can feel his expression twisting for the much-less amused, an open book as Ian continues to explain the situation. He went outside, through the acid rain, to the rat warrens, and did- what, exactly? Fight them? How? ]
...I'm sorry, you were out there? [ Wet paper bag Ian? There's no malicious deprecation in his voice, only worry. ] Are you okay? You're not hurt, right?
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He puffs out a breathy sound, half laugh and half scoff. )
I'm fine. Seriously.
( Wet paper bag Ian is still completely accurate — he'd get his ass absolutely kicked in a fight. This, what they just did, isn't fighting. Honestly, there's no real winning in a fight with a thing that has acidic tentacles that'll burn your arm off.
It's just strategy and a rifle. Not getting hit is the whole point. )
I've done runs like that more often than half the people who went.
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Nate opens his mouth, closes it again.
Why didn't he know this? He should have known this. There are certain things people who are dating each other should know about, and with the way their points of origin were it sort of seems like a necessity that never got touched on altogether too much, if at all. Ian's world was overtaken by aliens, sure, and he fled north somewhere, worked in a little community engineering conveniences for people to make life easier.
It isn't that Nate doesn't think he's incapable of doing stuff like that, it's just...what happened to them in the old New Amsterdam safe house kind of left a very specific impression that's now being challenged. ]
Uh. You have?
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No attention. Small towns surrounded by dense and spacious woods. Zero engagement when at all possible, because fighting isn't really an option. You get caught, you're screwed. Definitely not the up close and personal full-on assault of a hundred monsters in claustrophobic quarters that hit way too much like the first days after contact. )
Do me a favor. Can you just-- can you say, Ian, you're an engineer? Just humor me.
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...Ian, you're an engineer.
[ Patient, expectant, waiting to see exactly where the Hell this goes. ]
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Engineering is my job, dude, not my identity.
( Is that the worst impression of Nate's voice anyone has ever done ever in any universe?
Probably. )
I told you what my world was like before we met. It was the apocalypse, do you think we grew our own toilet paper from the safety of our magic canned food generator?
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No! No, I just- I didn't know, and you didn't-
[ He waves his hands futilely, feeling like he stepped in some kind of massive cow pie, chagrined for coming off like an insensitive idiot. ]
-tell me. You never said "oh, by the way, I made frequent life-threatening runs for supplies," all you talked about was the stuff you built. I didn't wanna push you for more.
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Yeah, well.
( He shrugs a shoulder, veering away a few inches so he can get back to stripping his shirt off over his head. )
It wasn't exactly relevant, there was never any reason to talk about it. Aside from the magic powers and that one tidal wave of eldritch horrors, it was mostly... normal.
( You know. Comparitively. )
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[ It's stupid of him to get hung up on something like this, so he adds it to the list of impractical and useless sentiments he's been experiencing ever since they showed up in this place. The more important thing is that they're fine, Ian isn't injured, and Nate has other things to worry about: finding his own niche, for example, given that his skill set is a little less helpful than that of people who can contribute to critical infrastructure.
He just wishes Ian would lean more into that than the runs, but Nate is also well aware of the hypocrisy that emotion is born from. He doesn't push.
Peeling his own sticky, sweaty shirt off he sets about undressing quickly, seeing as quality time in the shower is no longer a luxury they can afford. ]
Hold on, let me- help. You've got, uh, rat blood on your back.
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