( 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

[deconstruct]

Enduring's the same as dying, when they don't let you go. Try fighting someday. [ Andyr snorts, memories of talks with Miray and all the other Mice that thought they were doing something noble in accepting their station clouding up his head. he'd registered what bucky said - something in the water - and while he's slow in crawling himself up, he's at least doing it, and pushing at the soaked pants from hapsburg, sliding them off his hips to get the water off his body as he goes. andyr knows, in a far away sense, what he needs to do, and he's pushing his body to do it despite his mind's unwillingness to follow through. something he's always done.

at the same time, he knows, in that distant sense, that this is steve's friend, not one of his naive minded clones, but that part he's less concerned about keeping his mind present with. either way, he isn't worried about stripping down in front of him, not that he'd be that worried about most. how many strangers had he been completely bare in front of by now? it at least gets the majority of the water off his person, enough that some of that defiant anger filters back to him, having him grind out an answer - ] I made me.

[ hapsburg would probably like to say they'd made him into the savage wraith of a person he is now, and andyr's sure they let that belief circulate, for the sake of growing their repute. but at least, if nothing else, andyr knows he can claim he ruined himself to hurt them, not the other way around. ] I'm the one they bleed out, to make things like you.

[ not you, because this is 'bucky barnes', not a KN2, not one of his clones. he likely won't understand andyr's meaning by it, but he's too out of it to be more clear than that, at the moment, dragging himself over to the pile of still dray, clean thermals off to the side to pull on, with the towel wrapped around his hips. ]

[dislocked]

[ He's fought much harder and for much longer than this kid's been alive, he thinks -- he's what, twenty? Younger? A lesser man would have retorted, but Bucky keeps a tight lid on his reaction to the assumption that he'd simply rolled over and taken what had been dealt out. As if he'd had his own agency and will left to him to choose either way; as if he'd had enough of himself left when they carved everything out and put something else in its place. Something that rages under his skin, a monster that demands its due, living and breathing inside of him and biding its time.

He says nothing; arguing about something as petty as this seems like a waste of time, and he stares back at him, flat and fearless; one monster to another. ] No, you're not.

[ What they copied, what they wanted to bleed out was a man with blond hair and blue, blue eyes, fierce and loyal with the heart of a lion -- the one person who mattered the most. Bucky was the prototype of another serum, the one thing they'd based all the others on. The first Winter Soldier, and certainly not the last. They had all been stronger, faster; but they did not take to the serum as well as Bucky did -- he's not sure which of them got off easier, in this case. He fishes for another towel, handing it over to the smaller man all the same. He must be extraordinarily damaged to be in this state and to carry this kind of anger, and he wonders what he fights against, what it is that's molded him to this.

What would make him want to die? ]

What's your name?

he's so angry, im sorry. angyr.

[deconstruct]

[ oh. that was the wrong thing to say. if there was one thing bucky could've said to give andyr the punch he needed to get out of morose melancholy and back into Fuck You And Everyone Else In This Universe, it that. denying what'd been done to him. the boiling core of his hatred for everyone outside of the Houses in his world. ]

The fuck do you know about what I'm not? [ it comes seethed out, in something low and hostile, venomous, and the towel tossed to him is snatched out of the air and tossed behind him, towards the pile of clothes he'd been headed for, stalking back towards Bucky instead, hands reaching up to give an aggressive shove to his shoulders, packing a lot more in the way of strength than a person his age or size ever should. ] I said like you.

You saw these, right? [ a hand reaching up to tap the ports at the back of his neck, as he continues to walk forward into Bucky's space. ] You thought those were for what, decoration? They're drilled down directly into the bone of my spine, and every other day, some asshole in a lab coat with a needle the size of a toddler's arm sticks it into my back, while I'm strapped down trying to scream, and sucks up some spinal fluid to stick in a petri dish. Mix it up with some other shit, splice here and there. Make another me, with some tweaks. Maybe taller. Maybe with green eyes or blond hair. Maybe missing an arm. Fuck, maybe even with snake skin or flippers. Always a little more docile, because who wants a toy soldier that talks as goddamn much as I do, right?

Stick the genetic cocktail in a tube and bake for a while, then out pops your perfect little DIY weaponized human being. Suit up and send out. [ A hand snatches forward, grabbing the guy's metal wrist and pulling it up just enough to indicate. This isn't a prosthetic. This is a weapon. Andyr knows a fucking weapon when he sees one, thanks. He'd seen more than enough soldered onto his own clones and many others. Steve had said 'trauma', and refused to put more than that onto it, but it's not hard to guess. Whether it was willing or not, he'd been altered to be something more lethal, and that's what Andyr meant by like you. ] Stop me if I'm getting off course.

[ This guy isn't one of his, he knows that because he's already tested Steve and found nothing having to do with the KN gene in him, and there's no sign of discoloration in Bucky's eyes. He isn't one of his clones, but like fuck Andyr's going to quietly take the denial of what he is and what he's used for by some fucking stranger who feels like he has anything right to comment on it just because they're sharing a face and he hauled him out of an attempted suicide. Snorting, Andyr turns away again, back towards that pile of clothes he'd meant to get to. ]

Legally, my name's ANPR-BT-V-00. [ the string of code, a serial number, put on all his medical files. ] But I like to go by Andyr.

And you're Bucky Barnes. Steve told me.

[dislocked]

[ Bucky doesn't budge when he's shoved, although he registers the additional force behind the push -- but he knocks Andyr's hand away from his metal wrist none too gently, repelled by another's touch. He doesn't care for the additional commentary or the rage that he feels removed from; he doesn't need to know his life story.

Hell, Bucky's got enough to deal with on his own without someone else shoving their story into his face. He knows what it's like to be experimented on and used, to be a thing and a set of numbers instead of a person -- he doesn't require narration or a sordid blow by blow of what happens to lab rats who become soldiers; he just hates the idea of Hydra creating more like him, put out there in the world to hurt people. He doesn't want to discuss this, he doesn't even want it out there -- what good can it do now?

He turns away midway through the diatribe, the image of the ports on the back of his neck a haunting image of just what some people can do to another, the hell someone can put another through just because they can. He's no stranger to screaming and neither is Andyr, but while the other man seems perfectly happy to be a loose cannon, Bucky's more accustomed to keeping it tightly under wraps, buried where no one can see. ]

Don't ever touch me again.

[ He says in turn, a warning and a threat; disliking the liberties the man takes with personal space, only just keeping his own violent reaction in check. He's never been touched without being hurt, especially not from strangers wearing his own face, and old instincts, ingrained reactions to agonising stimuli die hard. Still, he remembers Andyr's code, just because he can.

But Andyr says Steve's name, and Bucky regards him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. ] How do you know him? [ Despite the man's violence, he's half-sure he wouldn't hurt Steve. And clearly, Steve trusted him to some degree. ]

[deconstruct]

[ shaking his head as he'd been turning away from his doppleganger, andyr snorts. like he hadn't said that same thing a million times to a million people, and how much did it ever stop anything? how many more times will he say it, when the Ingress pops him back home? when he goes back, for Mikal and Posie and Alva's kids? it's not over for him. he still doubts it ever will be. this is a pitstop. ]

Be nice if it was that easy, huh?

[ he will be keeping his distance, more because he doesn't want much to do with this guy, less because he told him to (and because andyr's sometimes a petty twelve year old on the inside), but he does usually have a very bad habit of doing exactly the opposite of what he's told. part of the life mission of "be as annoying to my captors as I possibly can be" thing. for the moment, he's less concerned with that and more so with getting himself dry, stripping his soaked pants off in short order, with the kind of lack of shame that says he's been naked in front of strangers often enough not to care anymore, before he reaches for the towel he'd tossed aside. ]

He was there when I came through the Ingress to the lab. [ 'lab', not 'medbay', because it still freaks him the fuck out to be anywhere near there. still has the same chemical smells that automatically make his stomach turn, still the same machine beeping and tubes and needles and lightly clanging metal tools that make his limbs twitch the want to reach for the first person in a lab coat and start taking them apart. it hadn't been an easy meeting, not only for atmosphere, but -- ] Looked like someone else I know. Someone who wasn't supposed to have clones.

[ and he'd been so close to trying to rip his throat out for it, for what that meant for Alvary. in reality, he'd take seeing his own clone here easier, considering how freaking many of them there were back home, but if it had been an actual clone, here, rather than back home, it'd mean a lot of things about what this place is to him. mostly that steve was lying. while andyr still wants to have bucky tested for an active KN gene, he's keeping that to himself for the moment. maybe he'll snag a hair strand off his shoulder later or something. right now, he needs to get his damn head on straight, while he tugs on the dry thermals he'd been issued, leaving the soaked pants from hapsburg aside to dry. ] Warned me about you. So I wouldn't try to kill you on sight.

[ if he hadn't known, he probably would've snapped, and Alva knew that, hence them coming together to warn him. if it came from just steve, he wouldn't have trusted him. ]