Test Drive Meme # 2

[hadrielmods]

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open October 25th, and apps are open November 1st.

Two quick points here as well:

1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: THE LAUGHTER OF A CHILD
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

Watch out as you explore the streets of Hadriel, because you're not alone, and there's always something on the rooftops watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to separate you from your group and tear you into pieces. This time, the Door has brought in some little friends for you to play with.

Grey Children are enemies in the video game Silent Hill. They usually move in pairs or groups of three, clinging to your legs and pulling you down so that they can laugh as they stab you to death. They're not particularly sturdy, but since they hunt in packs, they can kill you just the same. Let's hope your group is bigger - or that you can get away before they get ahold of you. But don't be too mean. They're just children, after all.]


SCENARIO TWO: FEAR ITSELF
[You turn a corner, and there it is. The one thing that terrifies you more than anything, that turns you into a frightened child, that makes you want to run or scream or fight wildly. It could be anything. That person you trusted, who betrayed you. A monster that haunts your dreams. Spiders, maybe? Whatever it is, it's exactly what you fear the most.

And then there are footsteps next to you, and someone else is there. Maybe they can help you. Maybe they can save you. But everyone's afraid of something, and the moment your savior gets close, their fear will manifest as well - and if you're really unlucky, combine with yours to make something even worse.

It's not real. It can't hurt you. Not unless you let it. But if you let it, it will destroy you.

This is a simpler version of October's Fear Event.]


H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSE
[A moment ago, you were making dinner. Not alone, but with someone you care about nearby - your beautiful spouse, or your amazing child, or your beloved sibling. Then, in an instant, you look at them and you know: this isn't real.

This perfect house, this perfect family, it's not yours. You can remember your real life now, and that person you care for? You might not even know them. A moment ago they were your world, and now you know this isn't actually your life. Your life is something else, somewhere else.

Above the fireplace sits a painting of you and your happy family. You know that if you destroy it, you'll return to your life. But do you really want to, when you've never felt this contentment, this happiness before? You could have it all, if you wanted. And what about your companion? This is a decision you should make together - if you want to.]

Comments

[vdova]

That's when she sees them, the men lined up in front of a chair that makes her stomach turn when she looks at it. Natasha moves to step up next to him, lips pressed into a thin line because she recognizes him now, and she's skimmed his file. What was done to him shouldn't have been done to anyone.

"No." She says it firmly, eyes flicking back and forth between him and them. Madame is still standing there, but Natasha ignores her, for now. She's not dangerous, not yet; the people who are are the Hydra agents attempting to circle the two of them.

"I know who you are, and I know that none of this was your fault." She's speaking directly to him, even if her eyes are on the Hydra agents that she's still aren't sure are real or not. Madame isn't. Madame is long dead. "I'll cover you."

[onlytheremains]

Everything is coming into focus again, the area registering, the woman who he had not noticed before appearing in the corner of his vision. He sees it all and knows something is off even though eh can't pinpoint what.

Fear is still the main thing raging in his brain and as more people seem to spill from the shadows (from the shadows? How is that even happening?) it becomes loud again, rising up like a wave to crash into his head.

But she's talking at him, the red headed woman who rings just shy of familiar, saying words that don't entirely stick with him except for the end.

I'll cover you.

And that's all he needs to know.

He's wearing obvious fear on his face until he's just not. He slides into the state of mind that lets him move and fight and wound without even thinking. The circle of people is broken and he's fighting them off with an almost bland expression. It's like he's hardly there at all, nothing in him anymore but the steps and strategies he needs to survive.

[vdova]

The Winter Soldier has always been brutal. She's seen it first hand twice, now, heard stories growing up about his ruthlessness in battle. It still amazes her that he can go from being very obviously frightened to doing what he needs to do to survive. It's admirable, in fact, not least because she was taught to do it herself when she was young.

She doesn't have forever to watch him work, though. The men are descending on her, too, and Natasha turns to defend herself and keep them away from him, opting to use her staves instead of her guns. A bullet ricocheting in this tight space would be bad for both of them.

She tries to ignore the voice that rings out overhead. "Sloppy. Disappointing. You are letting your emotions get in the way of your work, Natalia." It booms, ringing in her ears, even as she pretends not to hear it. She wonders, as she kicks one of the Hydra agents away from the Winter Soldier's back, if he can hear it, too. What he thinks.

[onlytheremains]

He clears out a number of the bodies with ease (because that's all they are to him) before he sets his sights on those who are working against her. For a moment he considers just clearing out, getting away as fast and as far as he can and leaving her to her own troubles.

But something keeps him there, something in the way she moves, something in his own head, something in the words of the woman who has not raised a hand but rather, seems to try and be cutting with language alone.

He turns and lets himself fall back into the fray long enough to get a few of the agents off her back and make a path for her to go and for him to follow.

"Move," he says in Russian. "Go now."

[vdova]

There's the slight odor of burnt hair as she takes out another goon with her sticks. She's faltering, just a tad, Madame's voice still echoing off the walls. Coupled with the fact that Natasha's so certain he's going to leave when he has the chance, she doesn't register that he's speaking to her, not at first. The realization that Madame is speaking English, and he is speaking Russian, though, momentarily stuns her out of her reverie, and she stops point blank to stare at him.

It'd be insane to argue, and she knows that, and that's the only reason she heeds him at all, retracting her batons into her gauntlets and taking off down the path before him.

"Don't do anything foolish," she snaps over her shoulder in Russian as she runs, glancing over her shoulder.

[onlytheremains]

For a fraction of a second, he lets himself grin, wolfish and wild. It's the only response she gets before he lets himself fall into the fight again, tearing down anything that gets in his way as he moves.

As he does so, little things start to be retained. The way metal hits flesh, the blood spatter, the crack of bone. It's not right, not reacting the way he knows things should. It makes him falter for a moment but he bounces back, moving further and further away until he finds people stop spilling from the walls, voices turning to echoes.

Something was wrong, that's obvious, but even as he can think on it properly, without the fighting clearing his mind, he can't quite pinpoint what it is.

[vdova]

"Shit," she says, still in Russian, skidding to a stop and turning around. She leaps into the fray, knees and elbows flying, stealing a knife from one of the corpses and using it as her weapon.

"I know someone who will be very upset," she continues, still in her native language, "if something happens to you. He looks like a kicked puppy."

She punctuates it with a punch to the face of one of the men, and as he falls she realizes that they're not coming anymore. She drops the knife to the ground, the clatter echoing across the walls and she turns to look at him, blowing hair out of her face.

"It doesn't surprise me that you two were friends."

[onlytheremains]

He doesn't respond, only surveys the corpses around then, then proceeding to move and collect a few of the knives and hide them on his person. He has no idea if he'll need them or not but all things considered, he's not willing to take chances.

"Who are you?" He says after that, still keeping up with the language of choice and not quite looking at her.

[vdova]

She watches him but only moves from her spot to cross her arms, hips canted to the side.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova, but Black Widow is probably more familiar to you, Winter Soldier."

Or is it James Barnes? She keeps the question to herself, even as she wonders it. He's certainly not the killing machine he made himself out to be the last two times they confronted one another. Who is he, now?

"I'm a friend of Steve Rogers."

[onlytheremains]

The name rings bells but nothing vibrant stands out. He knows of her though, remembers files and orders a little bit. Even that though, isn't clear cut and easy to hold onto.

"Rogers," he states when she brings up the Captain's name. He frowns, shaking his head. "He's a fool hunting for ghosts."

It's said simply with little emotion to it. Whatever he is now, whoever he is, it's not the person Rogers is looking for, of that he's sure.

[vdova]

"He's a fool for a lot of reasons," she says dryly, leaning against the wall at her back.

"But believing in people isn't one of them." There's a pause, and Natasha tilts her head to the side.

"Who are you? Have you decided?"

[onlytheremains]

He eyes her up an down, taking stock of her properly now that they have the chance to properly have a look at one another. There's a good part of him that wants to shoot a rebuttal but he keeps quiet, instincts kicking in and making him silent.

The question gives him pause though, a small frown settling onto his features as he considers it. Of course he knows; there's little in there he claims as 'his' and to say he knows hat, or even who he is, would be a stretch on the best of days.

"Learning," he mutters eventually, not meeting her eyes. "Can't say I've come to many conclusions."

[vdova]

She's in full gear, Tron-like catsuit and all, hair plastered to her forehead from the sweat of exerting herself in the fight mere moments before. Natasha's at least managed to catch her breath, for whatever that's worth.

"Ah," she says, softening just a little. "I know what that's like."

She considers him, briefly, reaching up to brush her hair out of her eyes.

"They told stories, you know. When I was growing up. About a ghost who could get in and out, who changed history to fit the calling of our superiors." Another pause.

"You look like someone I used to know." As if these two thoughts were related, somehow.

[onlytheremains]

He feels like he should say something, contribute somehow, but the words fail him. Instead he just shrugs at her, eyes going between their surroundings to her and back again.

"You're not the first person who seems to think that." It's almost a joke. Almost.

Whether they knew each other or not seems irrelevant. He not quite the Soldier any longer and he's certainly not the person Rogers seems to think he is.

He's something new, or maybe just the remains of the others. Whatever he is, she hardly knows him now.

[vdova]

She hums at that, her turn to give him a once over, expression carefully neutral. She's quiet for a long moment, and then nods to herself, satisfied.

"I suppose that's true. It was a long time ago, anyway."

She stays quiet for another moment, and then pushes off the wall, checking the bracers on her forearms. When she speaks again, it's in English.

"We should go before those things come back. Or something worse."

[onlytheremains]

He nods, starting to move in the opposite direction from where they had come. No need to retrace their steps and see what's waiting for them. He could do without that whole mess again.

Words don't come easily to him, they feel clumsy and odd in his mouth. It doesn't matter the language or even the situation most of the time. He can easily order those he's working with for a mission and answer the direct questions that used to be posed to him but there's been no missions for a while now and no one is demanding status reports and debriefings.

The common ways of interacting with language, wielding it with nothing but ease and a casual manner, just don't apply to him.

[vdova]

If either of them were anyone else, the silence would probably be uncomfortable. As it stands, she understands where he's coming from, why it might be easier for him to just not speak. She was like that too, a long time ago. So they walk in silence, for a while, Natasha keeping one eye out behind them. Just in case.

There's no exit in sight after minutes, and she breaks the silence with a huff, halting in her tracks.

"I think," she says, annoyed. "We're going in circles."

[onlytheremains]

He nods, silent still but very much in agreement with her. He's not entirely sure what to do about this, so he winds up looking to her, head tilted just slightly, arms spreading out as if to welcome any suggestion she might have on where they should go.