( tdm 12 )

[hownkai]

T E S T D R I V E

leavin’ on a jet plane "Don’t know when I’ll be back again." ABOARD THE MOIRA The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay. Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. Any questions you might have would be answered in a straightforward manner as well as an explanation about how the Ingress, the thing that has pulled you onto the Moira, is broken and bringing people here unintentionally. This process also consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand or wrist with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters. Whether adjusting to space travel has been difficult or not, there is always something to be done. From working to leisure, the Moira offers a multitude of opportunities to get to know your crewmates a bit better. Exploration of the ship is highly encouraged. You may notice a slight change in the artificial gravity every once in awhile; however, more noticeable changes can be found in overall morale of those of the crew. ☄ on your own There are plenty of other communal areas on the ship to explore! Pick a place, and see where it takes you. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) The day begins normally. Or almost. The Moira has accidentally fallen along the trajectory of an asteroid barreling its way through space. While most things like this are not uncommon, and the ship is far from any potential danger of collision or risk of debris damaging the exterior, there is something particularly odd about this specific occurrence. The rock itself appears to give off a strange light that is both eerie and alive. Often, if looked at in just the right manner, it will shift colors; so, while one person sees one side of the spectrum, someone else could see something entirely different. At first, things continue on as they usually do aside from the glowing asteroid alongside the Moira, but as the hours go on, that does not seem to be the case. ☄ the hours are breathing resignedly beneath the sky the melancholy waters lie With a rather open view of stars and space, thanks to the skylight above, the pool in the rec area suddenly comes alive beneath the light of the asteroid filtering in. Perhaps it’s some natural response to the chemical composition of the water, or perhaps it’s magic. Yet, regardless of the explanation, those who happen to take a dip suddenly find themselves plagued by despair. The depression and melancholy are not subtle changes either; it slams into you with great force, like a punch to the gut. The longer you remain in the pool, the deeper it grows, like an all-consuming paranoia that settles into the back of your mind and causes your heart to grow heavy. These strong feelings will eventually fade if you choose to leave the pool and dry off, but as long as you remain damp from the pool, those emotions will continue to linger. Even after you’re completely dry, there will be no mistaking just how intensely you felt or why. There is no explanation and might not be. Would you dare a second swim to test whether or not it was a fluke? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) ☄ those who have crossed the eyes are not here, there are no eyes here The walls are shrinking in. Every room you step into feels much too small, like there isn’t enough room to even breathe. A crowded place becomes startlingly empty, and no matter how much you run, how much you explore, there is no one there to comfort you or answer your calls for help. Hallucinations run strong between the lulls of obscene loneliness or claustrophobia, and exposure to the glow of the asteroid is really the only thing to thank for that. You’re desperate to claw your way out of the ship—open the emergency hatch in the Cargo Bay, bust the glass of the Observation Deck. What’s worse is that it’s not just you. It’s catching, and the fear of being next is very real. It feels like you’re being watched, that everyone around you is looking and seeing everything you are. Or are not. The only way to make it stop is to admit that you’re afraid of being seen, but who, in the deep madness of the self, has the courage to ever admit the truth? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) ☄ the sun in flight rage, rage against the dying of the light Something has drifted its way onto the Moira from the outside. Unlike the faint luminosity they give off, they suck up all the light around them, making them the only source to see by. From far away, they are just flitting balls of light, but if you get close enough to inspect them, they are mean. And have sharp, sharp teeth. Go poking, and they will bite you before trying to fly away while taking that only light source with them. The option to avoid them is quite easy if you’re not the curious sort, but without them around, it will be impossibly dark. As the asteroid moves on in the opposite direction of the Moira, these light creatures begin to dissolve and fade away with it. However, a word of caution: their bites glow. If you don’t manage to find the one that bit you and capture it between your hands, the bite will become a permanent glowing fixture of your body. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) OUT OF CHARACTER INFO FAQ | LOCATIONS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS | NAVIGATION For mature or graphic content, please label. For questions, please direct them to the FAQ. As always, be kind and have fun!

Comments

[abide]

[ It's not often he gets to talk about the shield or the War. Most people already know his story, or what they want to know about it, and there's a strange sort of nostalgia that settles in with Andyr's interest. He doesn't know if it's genuine or if he's just curious, but either way, there's that undeniable connection he can't seem to resist the more time he spends with him. Steve shifts, reaching over to graze one of the scuffs in the shield's surface with the tip of his thumb like he's trying to touch some reminder of a different time, and when he looks at Andyr, with just the slightest tilt of his head, there's a quiet sort of smile that doesn't exactly reach his eyes. It's the same expression belonging to someone who's carried too much and far too long, who would consider passing it on if only it would not weigh the other person down just as much as it had broken him.

At least there's what he says to fall back on, and Steve shakes his head. ]

It might not be the same place. [ It usually isn't, he's learned. Not with the difference in times between the people who knows who are from the same place, and then, of course, there are all those who come from alternate universes. ] What happens in your world doesn't necessarily mean it'll happen or has happened in mine. [ A breath, and he leans back, dragging his finger through his hair. Still damp, he notes idly. ] Being here is... I don't know. It's different.

[ And he really thinks they should talk about something else, which is why he sort of turns his focus onto learning more about Andyr. ] Where were you from?

[deconstruct]

Hope so. [ For your sake, Steve. What happens in his world isn't that great, and it has little to do with the wars. He'd prefer that, maybe, to what humanity's turned into. Andyr's fingers trace over the circular lines stylistically embedded in the shield, running into the jagged scratches the bisect it, looking like claw marks. he wants to ask, what those were from, what's strong enough to scratch up something that's the strongest metal his world has. another time, maybe. for now, it gives his hands something to do, his mind something to be distracted with. ]

New Orleans. In Louisiana? [ he blinks up, looking to steve. it's been a while since high school history for him, and even then, he hadn't graduated. andyr's assuming the same city was still there, 300 years ago when the USA was still united, and of enough note to be familiar. though, Louisiana's more a province now than a state. ] It's the capital of The South now. DC's The East Coast, Chicago's Midwest, Portland's West Coast. South's got the biggest military, though, because Hapsburg's right there in the capital. They supply the government, basically run the country.

[ And that's where Andyr lives. Right at the center of their literal Fortress, in the capital of the more formidable nation left of the once most militaristically terrifying country on the globe. Owned by the psycho running it. And that's right where he'd going back to, once the Ingress decides it's tired of him. He's trying not to get too attached to this place. To the freedom, to the food, to the stars. To people who play at kind a little better, like Steve. Maybe actually are a genuine as they put on, but he's not throwing his unreserved faith into that yet. ] It's been about 300 years since then, but I don't remember the USA having anything about a Captain America. If that helps you feel better.

[abide]

I know those cities.

[ Which probably doesn't help to comfort Andyr any—or if he's even looking for that, especially from him. The world must be different if the future's changed so much for Andyr and not so much for Steve, though the fighting appears to still be the same. Inevitably, he's waiting for someone to say something about the way they've handled things, about the destruction and deaths that had spread because of Ultron and because of Loki, and there's that same sort of frown again, pulling his mouth thin as he watches him trace the curves of the shield. (He had done that too much once before, tucked in a foxhole or waiting for the order to go, and somehow, it's the nostalgia of the moment that makes him think of Bucky, reminds him of that moment on Zola's train when his best friend had picked up the shield and-- ) Steve stands, leaving Andyr with the shield as he picks up their wet things and wraps them easily in the extra towel he'd left atop the dresser. Idle sitting and idle talking: two things he'd never been very good at. ]

Maybe you wouldn't have if it's been that long, but it's okay. [ The thought of living even further beyond his time is more upsetting than what he might live to see. ] You ever hear of a city called New York? That's where I'm from. Brooklyn. [ Because it's all about specifics, and there's no way in hell he'd ever want someone to get it mixed up with Queens or all the other boroughs. It's kind of laughable considering he doesn't even know if he'd ever want to go back since all those he's ever cared for are right here with him now, alive and well. And because he can't help it: ] Those other places-- are all of 'em like the one you're from?

[deconstruct]

New York City, yeah. Brooklyn, I dunno. [ Andyr frowns, shaking his head for a second, trying to think back to stuff he learned six years ago, between the haze of everything that happened in Hapsburg and all he did in trying to take that part of himself apart and put it somewhere cold, somewhere safe. somewhere forgettable. eventually, he gives up, shrugging, and sets the shield aside on the spot steve was sitting in a moment ago, pulling his feet up on the edge of the bed instead, and leaning his chin on his knees. ] I've never been to East Coast. I hear they're stuck up.

[ Well, when all you get for your world view is stuff people in the South, particularly the less educated poor of the South, say about northerns, that happens. But Steve doesn't seem stuck up. Then again, Steve's not from his world, or at least his time, it seems. Maybe things are different. On the subject of what those cities are like, though, Andyr doesn't need to have been there to know. Not that. ]

Yeah. Whole world's like that. [ it's just what it is now. his eyes cast down, looking at the hem of the pants he'd borrowed from steve, and the outline of his toes underneath it. ] Except for Alaska and Gaza. I hear, at least. Never been. [ and he tries not to think about them much, now. he knows alva's family is in alaska, and they sent miray and avis there. it must be alright. mikal's plan is to retreat to gaza, after the hits on the new orleans houses. but that's if they get that far. if andyr leaves through it. if he doesn't just get himself killed in the raids pulling off a bombing or something for the sake of not being a big target on mikal's back. hope is a painful thing, for people like him. ]

[abide]

[ He doesn't have to be able to read people well to read Andyr enough to know this isn't the best topic to cross. It seems their conversations, since that very first moment, always weigh sort of heavy, and Steve doesn't want to push a reminder on him of just how bad the place is he's left if he can help it. So, he's careful about what he says this time, leaving the wet clothes in that towel atop his dresser so he can turn and lean with his back against it. Arms crossed, and this is an easier position to watch Andyr from, pick out his mannerisms, the differences and the sometimes uncanny similarities that make him feel as if he's watching a ghost.

But no. That's not fair, and that isn't what this is about. This isn't why he'd saved him or why he'd brought him here. There's a reason to the fact they met, no matter how strained their introductions have been, and Steve fights for that conviction against the lingering sadness that still threatens to overwhelm him at the edges. His curiosity is piqued regardless of circumstance, and it could never be irony that places Andyr beside his shield, a thing he would use to protect him. Just as he tries to protect all those aboard the ship. ]

I'll take you some time. [ Just as casual as you please, like they're not on a spaceship in the middle of a universe no one really knows anything about. Could he even bring someone to his world from another? If he asked, maybe Thor would know something. ] If not that, I'd at least help get you to Alaska. Or Gaza. Wherever you wanna go. [ Which is a promise he shouldn't make, even if he truly believes he could make a difference in some way if he did. Fight for something real, a cause that would help so many people and lift the chains of oppression. If he could do this one small thing for him, this would be it. ] I might not know a lot about where it is you come from, but from what you've told me, that isn't freedom. Or even living. No one should make that choice for someone else.

[ Even now, he wants to fix it, wants to help. Steve only wishes he knew how, and just like that, he shakes his head, breathing out an apology. Sorry. ]

[deconstruct]

To New York. [ The flattest look Andyr can muster is settled on him, because what Steve just said may as well have been "i'm going to make unicorns fly out of my ass and then disappear in a puff of neon green smoke to the tune of the harry potter soundtrack" for all the likelihood that's associated with it. ] You'll take me... to New York City.

[ and to alaska, and to gaza, apparently. they'll just go skipping right the fuck out into outer space, or out hapsburg's front door while all the guards that've tased him over the last six years and all the doctors that've cut into his body and rearranged his insides for fun wave him bye bye and throw flowers. and yet, there's a part of andyr that wants to believe it. maybe if he was still seventeen. if he still thought all he had to do was hide well enough, he could have a normal life. but the world proved him wrong in that in the worst ways possible, and the kind of promises steve's making are the kinds people break. instead, he snorts, looking down to the hem of his pants again, as he picks at the threading. ]

No, it's not. Not freedom, not living. It's not even being cattle or lab rats, because at least they get animal cruelty laws. [ it's still fucked up to kick a puppy. not to kick a Mouse. another long moment has andyr silent, looking past his hands, through the floor, the level under it, the space outside the ship, unfocused, before he speaks up again, quiet. ]

I don't wanna go to Alaska or Gaza. [ for the entirety of what he tells him, andyr's voice is soft and even, but hollowed. there's anger there, somewhere, but it comes out cold and detached. like this is something that's gone through his head a million times in a million different ways already. ] I want to burn the entire fucking city to the ground. I want to listen to them scream. All the shitstains that put us there, all the assholes that didn't lift a fucking finger to stop it, all the peaceful protesters that thought holding up fucking signs and printing off clever slogans on t-shirts did me any fucking favors. I want them to look at me like I'm the monster under the goddamn bed, and I want them to die.

[ what he wants right now, at least. what he'd wanted when he was on that lab table, when he had chains on his wrists and legs, when he was being stripped down and twisted one way and the other and had needles and blades and fingers and tubes shoved into him wherever anyone pleased. what he'll want if he does get out, he doesn't know. he's done a lot of fucked up things to people in the houses, and while saying it feels like something soothing, he's not sure he really could. maybe. but he doubts he'd have the chance to figure out. leaning to the side, he turns away from steve, crawling further into the weirdly shaped bed, towards the back of it. ]

And I wanna take a nap.