Sept/Oct Test Drive Meme

[computerized]

Alpha Complex Test Drive Meme

Please feel free to take a Test Drive to see if the environment would suit your character! All potential players are welcome.

It may be your first day in Alpha Complex or your hundredth, either way, you are in serious trouble.

Scenario One
Your character has been accused of treason!

Whether the accusation is true or not, you are a wanted citizen!  Do you turn yourself over to IntSec (Internal Security) for questioning?  Do you make a run for it and go AWOL?  Will you fight for your right to exist or hole up somewhere safe until the chaos passes?  Do you become The Fugitive and try to prove your innocence?  Or are you guilty as hell and seeking help from friends or other parties who would be willing to assist you for a price? 

Beware of the security cameras everywhere - some of which actually work - and being spotted by citizens who might be willing to turn you in to gain points with The Computer or to prove their own loyalty.

Scenario Two
Your character has been given the mission to hunt down a traitor!

It is your job to hunt down and apprehend the traitor by any means necessary.  If you fail or refuse, you might be accused of being a traitor yourself.  It doesn't matter if the person you are hunting is innocent or had good reasons for their treason.  It doesn't matter if their crime was major or some minor form of treason, Friend Computer wants their head.  You have twenty four hours to complete your mission.

Please post your character name and fandom in the subject line.
Work Together. Turn On Each Other. Survive.

Premise | Setting Information | New Arrival Introduction

Comments

[kholodnyy]

Bucky gives her a flat look, then retaliates with something slightly cruder this time, but the insult lacks any real heat to it. In fact, the tone isn't that far from one he would have adopted with Steve when they were younger. Less broken by war and life. Nor does he pull away when she touches him. Oh, there's a flinch, but Bucky stuffs it down and seems to accept that help isn't going to be seen as a weakness. Not this time, anyway, although he doesn't trust her not to bring it up in the future.

If they get away far enough to have one of those.

Determined now not to fuck up, he keeps pace with her, ignoring the uncomfortable situation of following anyone's orders but his own, and simply concentrates on staying as quiet as possible. Serum or no, the people who trained him in assassination went on to train people like her, and that kind of physical condition doesn't go away as easily.

When they're finally somewhere she deems safe enough, he makes a quick perimeter sweep before finding a space along the wall that gives him good line-of-sight, and just leans there for a moment or two. Trying to assess any damage. Trying to figure out why she helped him. Why ... a lot of things.

"You hope they won't find us here." Bucky finally looks up, peering at her through an untidy curtain of dark hair. "Yeah. I'm okay. Nothing broken." In case she's worried about having to drag his ass around. "What kinda question is that? My face is just fine, lady. And no, I'm not looking to kill you." Right at this moment.

Then, quiet but clear:

"Thank you."

[missromanova]

Natasha shoots a look in Bucky's direction, a glare with a sharp edge to it, because she doesn't need to be reminded that there's nothing truly safe in this place. "That's all you can do here is hope, Barnes," she responds flatly, holding the look for a lingering moment before she lets it fade away in favor of closing her eyes again. "Really?" She sounds genuinely annoyed now, eyes still shut but brow pinching in frustration. "You still can't remember my damn name? Still?" Perhaps he doesn't remember anything, but he's got some semblance of logic to him. He's not mindless. He's not the same creature that she still has nightmares about with cold metal fingers wrapped around her throat, closing her windpipe...

"Natasha." She finally corrects, sounding both exasperated and defeated. "It's Natasha. It's not that hard to remember. Natasha." Her rigid look fades a little at the muttered show of gratitude though, and Nat slumps against the wall a bit more before giving an audible sigh and opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling through a veil of floating dust. "You're welcome."

He's afraid. He won't say it, but he is and Natasha knows it. It's not that crippling sort of fear that makes you crumble to the ground, gasping for air. People like them don't experience that fear anymore, it's been erased along with the little piece of humanity that it was attached to. It's the kind of fear that you feel in your shoulders. The kind that keeps you up at night with pulsing adrenaline and a racing heart despite how exhausted you are, the kind that makes you realize you may have to put your life into the hands of someone you don't trust. It's the worst kind of fear there is. Sometimes Natasha wishes she knew how to crumble instead.

Knowing that fear herself also means that Natasha knows how hard this is for him. She's sitting right there and yet she's not foolish enough to think that James feels anything but completely alone in that moment. She looks at him again, this time with a softer gaze that Bucky would have no way of knowing is remarkably rare from her. She wants to ask him what he remembers but that's not going to help. The last thing he needs right now is to be interrogated. He'll ask questions if he has them. She doesn't know whats going on in his head, but she does know that she's got more answers now than he does.

"Sit down, James." She says it almost kindly, voice serene now. It's not a demand. "We don't know how much downtime we're going to get, we need to rest as much as we can while we can do it. You haven't had to run like that without a performance enhancement in a long time, your body needs time to bounce back. You can't push yourself too hard."

[kholodnyy]

It takes about three minutes of utterly silent indecision, but eventually he slides down to the ground in a jumble of limbs just inches from Natasha. Very definitely within striking distance, if he decides trust isn't on the table any more. But, what may be less apparent, at least to the Russian at his side, is that he's also close enough to block a few bullets with his arm. You know, in case her little hideout is suddenly overrun with problem solvers shooting at them. Troubleshooters. Whatever.

He remains quiet, allowing his head to tilt back and rest against the wall doing an admirable job of holding him up. Bucky doesn't close his eyes, that damn trust issue popping up again, but he otherwise seems content to just exist in the same space with her. Listening to the sounds of breathing, and faint noises outside the building. It's the first time since arrival that he's had to contend with the knowledge of his own helplessness. Or, rather, the absence of serum-based abilities. As for the fear that he's not ready to own up about, only the tense set of his shoulders gives any clue that this man didn't just decide to choose the weirdest vacation spot in history.

"I'm sorry." His voice is still a little rough, but level. "For trying to kill you. It was three times, right? I can only remember three." A hint of annoyance creeps in, self-turned, like he's personally at fault for the scrambled state of his brain. Bucky falls silent again, staring down at his metal hand. All five fingers flex and curl into a brief fist, before he drops it down to rest against his thigh. The flesh and blood one lifts into the air, held out towards her in what should be an unmistakable gesture of greeting. (Shake the hand, Nat.)

"Natasha. I know my birth certificate says James, but I kind of prefer Bucky."

Not in the least because Steve used that particular nickname to give him identity and personhood back.

[missromanova]

He doesn't listen to her immediately and Natasha doesn't bring it up again, because she knows doing so will only make him feel the need to be defiant. She is, however, silently relieved when he slides down to sit next to her, despite the way her body tenses for a few moments due to his close proximity. She forces herself to relax; he's not looking to hurt her, not this time. She just has to remember that.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound between them steady breathing and her own pulse pounding in her ears, until he breaks it with an apology that she doesn't expect. For a split second her surprise is evident on her face with wide eyes and parted lips before she regains composure, gaze moving down to his hand before she reaches for it to give it a firm shake. "You have nothing to apologize for." She manages, her voice still quiet as her hand falls away to return to her side. Her head leans back against the wall again, gaze moving to the ceiling. "You remember it now. But at the time it wasn't you, conditioning doesn't work like that." Natasha couldn't help but scoff at herself before he could disagree aloud, her eyes closing. "Not that it matters. I can't count how many times someone has said that to me and I know it doesn't matter. But it's true, for what it's worth." All Natasha can do is tell him what might matter, and she does when her eyes open once more. "I don't blame you. I know that you didn't know who you were. I don't blame you."

Natasha lets that hang in the air before she looks at him again, this time with the shadow of a one sided smile. "Shame. I like James." She gave an audible sigh as she finally looked away from him to eye the door they came in. "This part of the Complex is abandoned, which is what we want, but we're going to need somewhere to find food. Sleep. There are underground systems we can use, ones that the Computer isn't aware of but..." Natasha's fingers move to run through her hair in frustration. "We need to lay as low as we can right now until they stop looking for you. Us. We're not going to be able to establish anything solid until then, so I hope you comfortable sleeping on a floor for a night or two."

[kholodnyy]

No, he's not looking to hurt her. Not this time. It's enough that she's sticking her neck out for him - that moment of indecision, that hesitation back in the corridor. Natasha had ample time to corner him for the police, but she chose to help him instead. It's not something he plans to forget. Or leave unrepaid.

"I have everything to apologize for," he mutters almost under his breath, but the tone of voice is tinged with something close to resignation. Yes, he's heard that before. Recently, in fact, from a guy with a heart that's still too big for his body. If he has a problem believing it from Captain Fucking America, stands to reason that the Widow trying to tell him the same thing isn't going to have miraculous consequences. But at least he's listening. "James was my father. It feels -- weird, I guess, having someone outside the family use it."

His mother, his sisters, even Steve on occasion. But he's been Bucky for so long - and no one at all for even longer - that being addressed in such a manner is fairly unsettling. He shifts, allowing his shoulders to slump down further against the wall, and tilts his head. A part of him is primed and ready to move, but most of Bucky's attention is now focused on Natasha.

"I've slept on worse things than the ground." Corner of his mouth lifts briefly. "It's your call, Widow. Having a weapon or two would make the sleeping a little easier, though."

[missromanova]

"Stop thinking about it like that." Natasha replies with a surprising amount of firmness in her voice paired with a vague shake of her head. "Believe me, apologies won't get you anywhere. The people that you feel like you need to apologize to aren't going to listen. The ones who understand why it happened aren't going to need you to apologize in the first place." Natasha glanced over at Bucky for a lingering moment, as if trying to read him before she continued with sincerity. "The only thing we can do is try to make up for it. Some of us are better at that than others, but it's all we have. All you can do is try to wipe the red out of your ledger. You might never get there. I haven't." She gave a single shouldered shrug, and there's effort put into keeping her tone even and dismissive. "But you keep trying. It's all we've got."

Natasha manages to give another crooked half smile before she reassures him. "Don't worry, I'll stick with Bucky. I was never sentimental when it came to names." Probably because she's had so many over the course of her short life. It's when she sees the corners of his mouth twitch that Natasha huffs a quiet laugh of amusement. "Was that almost a smile? I'm doing better than I thought. We're going to need to find our way Free Enterprise for that, it's the black market here." She runs her fingers through her hair with a sigh. "I left my blaster on that building we jumped onto, they can track it. I have enough credits to get both of us a decent gun, clothes. Food. After that we can figure out what to do, I have some connections, favors owed. We'll be alright. It'll be rocky but it'll be alright. Hey."

Natasha shifts her foot a little to tap the side of his boot and get his attention until he looks at her. "I'm not going to let them find you. I'd rather live in a warehouse and dismantle them from the inside out than do that, alright? We're going to be fine. They don't know what we're capable of, and that's our advantage. A valuable one."

[kholodnyy]

A dark brow lifts in response. Who is she to tell him what to think? Excuse you, lady, he can do whatever the hell he wants right now. Just because.

Actually, no. That's not fair. He can choose to do anything right now, and revel in the choice, but there will be consequence for each and every action he takes. And she's just trying to help, hence the advice. Now, granted, it's something he already more or less knows, and just hasn't completely accepted in his heart yet. His brain knows that no amount of 'sorry' will ever make up for the things he's done. And that's okay, he'll live with it. But his heart still holds that traitorous little sliver of hope. It has since he found Steve in his safe house.

"Yeah. You keep moving forward, because if you stop --" He frowns, expression kept deliberately neutral, except for the moment of levity. He reaches up, rubs at one eye with his flesh hand as if wiping away weariness, and then turns his head to look at her again. "Why are you helping me? I'm Steve's ..." Friend. "Problem, not ... not yours."

Bucky's voice is quiet, a thread of softness running through it that he's too tired to mask. She ran with him. For him. By all rights, Natasha should hate him, and should have trapped him in Berlin. He still doesn't know why she choose otherwise, even if he is grateful to have gotten a chance to stop monsters worse than him.

"I just don't understand."

[missromanova]

Bucky doesn’t finish his thought and Natasha doesn’t ask him to, because she knows exactly what he’s going to say. Perhaps not word for word, but she knows what he’s thinking. She knows what happens when someone stops moving forward. When he moves to rub his face Natasha catches it in the corner of her eye, but she only glances over at him when he starts to speak again, her legs bending so she can rest her elbows on her knees and let her arms hang loosely before her. Despite his question and how serious she knows he is, Natasha gives an airy sound through her nose that resembles a quiet laugh paired with a crooked and weary smile rooted somewhere that wasn’t humor. She looks away again, her head falling back against the wall, but her smile stays as she stares off. “Because.” She gives a tired shrug and a shake of her head, but when she looks back at him and sees his face her expression softens. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Natasha holds Bucky’s gaze for a lingering second in silence before she gives a weak shake of her head, as if not knowing why he wants to hear it aloud. As if not wanting o share her true reasons because she wishes that they were just unspoken and understood. “Because I know what it’s like to not who you are when you wake up in the morning.” Her voice drifts a little into something that’s dangerously close to honest vulnerability before she pulls it back, instead adopting a calm but certain tone. “ Because I know how it feels when the whole world is against you. And what it’s like to watch yourself do something through your own eyes and not…” she trails off quietly, and Natasha’s eyes flicker with something raw, and regretful, before she wets her lips and looks away from him again with another shrug. “And not know who’s really doing it. I know what it’s like when you wake up and realize the person that you are. And how different they are from the person you want to be. What you’ve done versus what you’ve always wanted to do.”

Her throat moves when she swallows hard and Natasha looks down, picking at her nails from where her hands hung off of her knees. She can’t look at him in that moment, but there’s a frown on her face that she doesn’t seem to be aware of. “Because I know what it’s like to wish that someone had gotten you out sooner and I won’t let anyone stay like any longer than they already have. I won’t let anyone get punished for it, because they don’t understand.” Her jaw flexes with tension. “They don’t get that whatever punishment they deem appropriate doesn’t even come close to what you’re already doing to yourself in your own head.” Natasha pulls air in through her nose in a slow, deep breath, and she releases it in a sigh before she manages to compose herself enough to look back at him and meet his eye. Her smile is back. No longer crooked. Sad.

”Because it’s the right thing to do. And all we can do now is try to do the right thing whenever we can. You’re not the only one who has to keep moving forward.”