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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
[ He'll have a hat trick if there's an android around. Victory never tasted so ashen. ]
That mean you can't know what happens? Timeline gonna sneeze you into atoms if I tell you?
[ Maybe he should have questioned that time-heist a little more... or pay attention to Dr. Wizard With No Hat.
And what would telling him even get anyone. ]
no subject
Do I look like I know?
( Drawled out flatly. He's not the encyclopedia on time travel, he did all his the old fashioned way: in a freezer.
...And yet, he can't stop himself from asking. )
We at least get her?
no subject
She's dead.
[ And it's a failure, not a victory by any means. Not something that needed to happen. Despite everything, Sam does believe that she deserved... something else than that. Something other than a bullet and a lonely death in Sam's arms. ]
no subject
Her dying wasn't part of the plan. More killing isn't what he wanted. The plan was to stop her.
A second or two of letting Sam stand alone, and Bucky finally pushes up off the wall to follow him. He curls a hand around Sam's shoulder. )
I'm sorry.
( He doesn't know what happened, but whatever it was obviously hit him hard. So. Yeah, he means it. )
no subject
He tries not to think of Steve and Natasha and Riley. Tries not to think that Bucky's just one more partner he's lost to circumstances greater than him. ]
Thank you.
[ And he means that. Sam glances over his shoulder, finds Bucky's eyes, then gives him a small nod. ]
Lot of stuff happens. Listen, where you're at? You and I ain't good. But we will be.
[ He shrugs the shoulder that Bucky's not holding onto. ]
I got a headstart here. I know your crap, you don't know mine. You want me to tell you, I will.
no subject
Bucky doesn't have anybody. He doesn't have a single goddamn person on the planet. The closest thing he feels to family, to significance, to anything, is a goddamn shield. It's not Steve, but it feels like Steve sometimes.
And then, and you won't catch him saying this, Sam. It's pathetic, he knows. Feeling attachment to a friend of a friend just because of the guy they had in common. That shield feels like Steve, but it's not a person, and he really... needs... someone. He knows it's grasping at straws, it's latching onto someone two degrees of separation away, and it's embarrassing as hell. Especially when that guy practically hates you. Strong feelings and strong anger and nowhere to direct it aside from Sam makes it really easy to pretend like he hates Sam, too. Even to himself.
But we will be.
There's a quietness in him, the kind of contemplative searching gaze that has no contempt written in it. No stubbornness, no heat. His hand falls away as Sam shrugs, and he chews the inside of his cheek.
He's still upset about the decision. He's still angry.
But.
He'd rather have it than not have it. Just not here. )
Maybe when we're on the other side of the bars.
( A statement, and a question. That okay? )
no subject
That he stopped hating Bucky a long time ago, and threw his life away not because Steve asked him to, but because it's who Sam is. He will lay himself down so that others may live, and it had been the right thing to do for Bucky.
It's an understanding he thinks they've reached. A friendship and partnership they might deny out loud, but implicitly understand to be there in Sam's presence. Here, on this strange world, hatched from a goddamn egg and not remember the extent of their journey, Bucky's just one more partner Sam's lost. Riley, Natasha, Steve, Bucky.
What a legacy. ]
Yeah.
[ He can carry this. What else is there to do? ]
You still feeling weak as a newborn kitten, too, or you doing better than me on the upswing?
no subject
He's moody for weeks, he recedes into seclusion, he has a major outburst and then he's good again. Sargent Barnes, scoring dates, easy-going and maybe even charismatic.
He's not there yet.
Now that they're here, though, a lot of his built-up resentment will aim toward a more appropriate target. Take a little of the heat off of him — not in the healthy and productive way Sam might be hoping, but maybe enough for them to start getting somewhere all over again.
If he still wants to, that is.
In the meantime, he latches onto the distraction immediately. Pushes himself up from the seat and heads towards the bars, wrapping a metal hand around one. He pulls, and the metal groans, flexes, but doesn't properly bend.
Sigh. )
Newborn kitten.
( Even has a little ache where metal meets flesh, the typical underlying pain you'd expect from having a prosthetic limb without a top-notch healing factor consistently brushing away muscle fatigue. )
no subject
[ Heh.
He's keeping that one.
There's a lot to unpack here, but the agreement is to table it for later, and Sam's good with that. Gives him time to recategorize Bucky in his mind a little, and not project unfairly onto him.
He might even tell Bucky the extent of how things go between them - soon as he can figure out how much he wants to share with a version of Buck that hasn't quite reached where Sam's at. Then again, feels unfair to blame the guy, and Sam's nothing if not unflinchingly loyal.
Even to people who are massive pains in his ass like Bucky. ]
How we playing this? Let you regather your strength but keep playing nice until we figure this place out, or are you itching for a prison break? And Buck, do not say the words 'let me walk you through a hypothetical'.
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How many nicknames can one person think up? Christ.
He releases the bars and settles heavily back down on the bench again, looking for all the world like he's making himself comfortable for the long haul. )
No, no hypotheticals. Smart play's to wait. We got no idea what we're dealing with out there, no resources. We need them, at least until we get our bearings. I think we gotta play nice.
feel free to timeskip this forwards a bit
[ A tease with no heat behind it, truth be told. Sam settles in on his end of the cell as well, trying to get as comfortable as possible for the time being.
Bucky can play nice plenty. Or at least, he will be able to.
This is gonna give Sam a headache.
There's gonna be some complicated discussions in their future. ]
So. Watch any good sci movies lately?
imma do
Really.
Processing comes eventually. Sam's taken out for questioning. Bucky's taken later. One by one the new arrivals are released into the general population. Given the world's worst food. Conscripted into fighting acidic alien tentacle rats. You know, the usual.
It's sometime shortly after the rescue mission succeeds and ends that Bucky reconnects with Sam, absently tearing off the remains of his burnt left sleeve. )
You good?
( Didn't see him out there, but it had been chaos. People everywhere, acid rain, winding tunnels — Bucky spent most of his time in the deep bowels of them, shepherding around a chick that apparently just glows stuff to death, so. You know. That's cool. )
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[ Sam's got the goggles on. He's going through some readouts from the suit - still learning to familiarize himself with the new systems, he's perhaps overly thorough in checking and re-checking for damages to the suit integrity, the wings, the drones. He glances up though.
He's been avoiding Bucky, truth be told, for more reason than one. The shield, the suit, the entire everything, for one. That would have been an awkward reveal before, to a Bucky who doesn't get it yet.
Everything's a little more messy than that now, though, isn't it. ]
You good, too?
[ Met Steve and Natasha yet? ]
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( A practically instant response, knee-jerk. He's always good. Totally fine. Nothing wrong here. Redirect: )
Nice outfit.
( His eyes track over Sam's suit, a little divot forming in his brow. It's pretty clear he's biting his tongue about something, that he's got something troubling running through his head — but when doesn't he lately?
Rather than saying it, he practically reads Sam's mind. Steers them toward that very subject. )
Steve's here.
( And Natasha, but he doesn't know her nearly as well. Met her two or three times (with his brain unscrambled, a couple more if you count the murder attempts).
It's a statement, but also a question.
They need to get aligned on how much they're gonna tell him. How much is need-to-know. It's not that he's happy about keeping secrets from Steve, so much as he's worried about the potential consequences. He doesn't want to jeopardize timeline and screw up their success, but he also doesn't want to jeopardize Steve's happiness. )
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[ The kind you might call 'best'. Family.
Sam swallows, then pushes the diagnostics aside and turns to face Bucky fully. 'cause this Bucky's still got the wrong ideas, and they got more important things to discuss than the way Sam's world has tilted off its axis. ]
Yeah. Natasha, too.
[ He's been grieving them for 6 months, in different ways. At least Steve got to be happy. Gotta cling to that. ]
You and I are both kinda shitty liars.
[ Mostly Sam. Plus, he doesn't want to lie. Not to people who were his closest friends before they all lost one another. ]
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( Bucky responds with a kind of one-shouldered shrug, voice pitching high, clearly saying-without-saying he thinks Sam is a shitty liar. Probably because Sam is a good person. Himself, not so much.
Lies by omission are more his forte. )
I'm not saying we lie, I'm just saying we don't tell him the truth.
( Is that comforting? It's probably not comforting. )
He knew something was up, wouldn't drop it, so... he knows he retired. Went back to the past. I didn't tell him about Natasha, I figure he'd try and... do a him.
( You know. Change it. From what he caught after the chaos from the fight started to settle, only one version of events would work. Besides, she's alive now, isn't she?
What Natasha decides to tell him or not tell him is her business. Her death belongs to her. What they need to figure out is -- )
What do you wanna tell him about Walker?
( Read: look, he's coming to you first, he hasn't said shit about it, this is like an olive branch right? )
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Right, Sergeant Semantics, how about we don't completely bullshit our friends - we good with that?
[ He crosses his arms, trying to contain the nervous energy buzzing along his nerves that tries to propel him into movement. Instead, Sam chooses to keep his body still, eyes on Bucky. ]
Don't think that's how the whole time travel stuff works. He had to put those stones back, right, but that didn't affect our time line one way or the other. Can't change what already happened. But sure, yeah. Retirement. Was gonna leave it at that anyway - you probably know more about that than I do.
[ The era, the people, the reasons even, perhaps.
Sam swallows, thinks of Bucky's confession about the shield, about family.
Wishes there was an easy way to speed Bucky along, to tell him 'you have a family'. But that's not a fair shortcut to take. Can't force someone to feel something that just ain't there yet.
Shoulders slumping, Sam leans forwards, fatigue creeping into his expression. ]
You don't even know about Walker.
[ Voice soft. That's not a reproach. It's just what it is. ]
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But then they'd be getting into an argument about semantics, which would prove that nickname accurate, and he's not about that life.
Still adds a little fuel to his agitation, which manifests in the form of muted but undeniably grumpy attitude. )
Okay, let me rephrase the question. What do you want to tell him about how you threw away his shield and the government gave it to some random blonde guy with the right jawline?
( Because it doesn't occur to him that Walker's a problem they might have actually solved. That would involve Sam taking the shield back, and as far as he's seen Sam's got exactly 0 interest in even trying. )
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The worst part is that it's a blow he should have been prepared for, should have seen coming from a mile away. And it still hits him where it hurts, perhaps now more so than ever.
So it's a sharp intake of breath and dark eyes going hard and distant. Walls drawing up that Sam has lowered, didn't think were necessary anymore. Forgot to rebuild for a Bucky who's just a couple days younger, and yet worlds away.
The shield's sitting next to Sam, propped against the side of the table facing away from Bucky - where he can't see it right now. Sam's fingers itch, but he doesn't reach to pull it up and place it between them - not yet, at least. ]
I laid his shield to rest. Don't put Walker on me.
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Again. Different.
Bucky's problem with Sam is between the two of them. Causing issues between Sam and Steve is not something he wants to do, accidentally or on purpose. That's all.
And yet, just like every single other time the shield comes up, something hot and angry and unfair licks at his chest. Starts filling it with a mounting pressure, an ache. )
His-
( Incredulous, uncomprehending. )
Am I out of my mind? Is there a second red, white, and blue vibranium shield floating around somewhere you've been keeping a secret? Because as far as I know, his shield's the only one, and it's the one Walker's putting his hands all over.
( Which just feels... wrong, viscerally wrong. There's exactly one person on the planet -- at least, the planet they're from -- that should be touching it, and it ain't Walker. )
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Sam reaches beside the table, and pulls the shield up smoothly, lets it smack onto the table between them none too gently with a loud and satisfying bang. ]
Yeah. This one.
[ They never give it back to him, officially - he's never gonna be the one they slap on posters and celebrate and try to sell as a symbol to the rest of the world, and that's fine. He's picked it up knowing what kinda fight was gonna weight on the other end of that choice.
Sam folds his arms on the table in front of him, searches Bucky's face, but keeps his own closed off as he can. ]
You've told me what it means to you.
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It's like he doesn't fully comprehend what he's seeing for a second.
A beat later his expression closes off too, and they're left trying to see through one another's masks as Bucky studies Sam's deliberately blank expression for answers to questions he hasn't even thought of yet.
You've told me what it means to you.
Yeah, he's just gonna... sidestep that for a minute, because that's Something. )
You take it back from him?
( Seems like the answer might be obvious, but he needs to check. Needs to make sure, because it could very well be he just happened upon it hatching out of a goddamn egg or something. Bucky's convinced he's not gonna find the contentment he's looking for until that thing is truly and officially Sam's.
You know, as far as Sam's concerned. He couldn't care less who the government thinks it belongs to. )
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[ Sam watches him carefully. Keeps his voice calm and steady, but trying to impress something into that thick skull sitting opposite him. Because damnit, but it matters. He will never ever want Bucky to be less than Steve's friend - but he doesn't want to go back to being 'a guy with a mutual friend' outside of their dumb jokes, either. And if all Bucky sees here on the table is Steve's shield, that conversation's just a non-starter.
His voice softens, eyebrows arching up into something almost wry. Firm, but not unkind: ]
So yeah. Right now, you're out of context. And out of line. But I get it.
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Good.
( He says after an awkward pause, and though he means it to sound like he's proven something, it doesn't stick the landing. It's faltering even to his own ears, he's thrown off balance and still trying to recover.
It's not that he's transposing Steve over Sam, or trying to somehow replace one with the other. It's not that he expects Sam to live up to someone else's legacy. It's not even that he's seeing something that belongs to Steve, which Sam now owns when he looks at the shield. It's that he sees...
His self-worth. He's seeing the possibility of feeling family again ever, anywhere. Deserving to. He sees hope that he needs but isn't capable of producing. He doesn't see Steve in it, he sees all the promise Steve saw in him, all of it in that stupid shield, because that's the only thing that's left of him anymore. He left Bucky behind, and he left it behind, and he sure as hell doesn't believe in himself the way Steve did, but he still needs to feel that coming from somewhere. That shield is the only somewhere left for him on the planet.
The thing on that table has been the cornerstone of Bucky's shaky, rickety foundation.
Sam's supposed to have it, because Steve saw something in him. The fact that it didn't feel like Sam valued or needed that as much as Bucky does means it isn't the infallible truth he wants it to be. It kicks out support beams one after the other, because he doesn't yet know how to rebuild himself by himself.
He's glad Sam has it. He truly believes Sam's the right person for it, he truly can't think of anyone more worthy or more good than Sam Wilson.
But standing here looking at it, knowing it goes where Bucky thinks it's supposed to, technically making all things right in the world as he understands it...
It doesn't feel like he thought it would. He doesn't feel any more solid, more secure, more anchored to Sam, more satisfied.
It just doesn't feel like he thought, and Sam's met with contemplative quiet as he works through that. )
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Tough love is a conversation they had under specific circumstances. But Sam's not about to leave Bucky out in the cold, even if they're out of sync in ways that hurt to think about. It's still Bucky, in the end. And that matters. ]
My nephews adore you.
[ Sam taps his fingers on the table in thought for a moment. ]
Cass ain't shutting up about you or to you. AJ mostly runs after you like a duckling that imprinted. I think I've also seen like three kids just dangling off your arm like it was a hanging bar while you were talking to my sister. You messed up the cake, though. Seriously, I give you one job, Buck. Take my truck, drive your ass to the store, buy a cake, bring it back. And what do you do? You mess the cake up 'cause you gotta playfight with my nephews.
[ It was a good time, honestly, and Sam aches for them. The boys, Sarah. Home. He hopes this isn't like the blip - that they're not at home, and he's gone without a trace.
Best not think about that. It makes his fingertips tingle, like he can feel himself turning to dust again any second now.
A measured breath. He puts his hand on the shield, fingertips absentmindedly tracing along the star. ]
You want some tough love to go with the anecdotes?
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