nonotagain | 01. Test Drive Meme

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!tdm

01. Test Drive Meme

TEST DRIVE MEME

Thinking about joining Iterum? Unsure of who to bring or if they'll even fit the setting? Posting here offers you the chance to find out how they'll do while getting the sample for done for their application.

→ Comment down below with the character you'd like to test drive in the setting. Don't forget to add their name and canon in the subject line.
→ Choose a scenario or create your own, and tag around!
→ Test drives will be posted regularly in the months of March, June, September, and December.
→ Threads in the test drive are NOT eligible to use for activity checks, however, you can make them game canon if you wish and both you and your scene partner agree.

Possible Scenarios
Please note that all characters will initially arrive in their assigned housing; they are free to explore the City to their heart's content after that!

01. Arriving: You're pretty sure you knew where you were before you closed your eyes. But somewhere between then and now, you discover that you're definitely not there. In fact, the setting is so unfamiliar to you that it's bordering on unnerving and questions start to stack. Have you been abducted? Did you get drunk and pass out somewhere and not remember? Whatever the case, you need some answers. Or maybe this is familiar and the only thing that doesn't make sense is the layer of dust on everything around you which obviously means some time has passed. How much? No one seems to know. What you do know is that sitting around and waiting for answers is likely not going to happen.

So, you set out and hope to run into someone in the City that looks like they may be in a similar situation. Or, at the very least a person that might be able to provide some explanation. Veteran Chosen, make sure you warn the new people about the Shadows and advise them to steer clear of dark alleys and things that go bump in the night.

02. Party, party!: Now that you've arrived and hopefully settled, it's time to unwind. Inside your welcome basket is an invitation from the Duchess, who has decided to celebrate the growing population of the City with a massive "Welcome to the City" party in the Tower District. Wine spills free, and drugs abound, this is the kinda party that caters to all! The wicked and debauched demons and the good and decent who, if not careful, might end up tainted and corrupted at some point, like everyone else. Even if it's only for one night, why not cut loose and forget about whatever is pressing on your mind?

Nothing to wear? Check your closet, we're sure you'll find something suitable to wear.

03. Prominence: Everyone knows that the City sometimes influences its population on a monthly basis. Unfortunately, you arrived right in the middle of a heavy Prominence. Lust, Greed, Gluttony, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, or Pride: choose your sin and get wicked. You'll find it's hard to avoid being sinful, almost as if your basic instincts are taking over.

04. Run!: A lot can go wrong in the City; demon attacks, muggings or there's even danger of being plucked from the streets and forced to partake in the Coliseum's version of Fight Club (if you know, you know). There are plenty of unsavoury types that all Chosen must be aware of. They rule the night, and once the sun goes down it becomes the Sinning Hour. Demons and monsters and humans capable of inciting just as much fear, if not more, come out to play. Mind yourself. It's hardly a tea party out there.

05. Network: Broadcast a video, voice or text message to anyone in your phone's directory. All Chosen have a device that they can use to communicate. Those that are returning will find their phone as it was, though without any contact that was previously in the City that is not currently. For the newly Chosen, a device will be supplied in your welcome basket and will match the type of telecommunications that was being used at the time of their exit.

06. Wild Card: Choose your own adventure in the game's multiple settings!

n a v i g a t i o n

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's someone here, someone not drawing attention. Someone good at disappearing and someone good at playing games. He's not in the fucking mood.]

S

[ she's not exactly the patient type herself. so she gives him a boon and fills out three of the letter slots ]

you kind of suck at this game, Clint

_ O O _ U _

[He's about to send something very short and scathing about guessing the most obvious and frequent letters is a valid way to play and vow to stop playing, except he actually stares at what's there. Of course, it stares right back at him, stares him in the face.

And he looks up.]

[ When he does, she's there, not more than ten feet away. Natasha isn't sure how he'll receive her, or if he even wants to, but that's a risk she's willing to take.

He looks different. A little more weary, a few more lines on his forehead that weren't there before. She smiles at him, tentatively, until she has a handle on how this reunion is going to go down. ]

Hey, partner.

[The rest of the room falls away.

None of it matters. The people don't matter, and neither does this place, and the music might have stopped for all he knows or cares. The moment is suspended, it must be, because he's not sure that he's breathing. It balls up tight in his chest, a well of feelings pulled taut, like a physical thing banging frantically against his ribs.

Or that could just be his heart.

His legs feel like heavy lead weights. This would be, some part of him recognizes distantly, a time when he would excuse himself and find somewhere quieter, somewhere with more air, somewhere he can fucking breathe because all the oxygen's been sucked out of the room.

Somehow he manages to put his phone back without dropping it. He must still be breathing, somehow, somehow, because when he opens his mouth, words work their way out. They might be tattered in sound, torn up by the jagged shards of glass lining his tight throat, but it's his voice, even if it sounds far away.]

Most people would've just said hi.

[ That's the reaction she expected. It's the one that she's lived with every day since arriving in the City of Sin and every day since then. It haunts her dreams. Makes her second-guess herself even for mere moments before remembering that he needed to be with his family. And she will stand firm on it being the best decision she ever made.

Let me go. It's okay.

She can only hope that he was able to eventually come to terms with why she did it and understand that because if it had been him that died that day, coping with his loss would have surely destroyed her in nothing but the worst ways.

Natasha moves forward, slowly, until she is in front of him and close enough to reach a hand out to catch his. ]

I'm not most people, now am I?

[ She gives him a brazen little grin while tightening her hold. There is no sense in hiding the emotion in her eyes so she doesn't. She wasn't sure she'd ever see him again. ]

[She moves, and he stays stock still for fear that this isn't real. This place, whatever it is, might not even be real (for a given definition), and who's to say she isn't an illusion, an LMD, a robot, someone or something wearing her face?

But she touches him.

Something breaks. It surely can't be his heart. Surely.

He surges ahead, letting her hand go so that he can wrap his arms around her, a tight bear hug. So he can bury his face against her and breathe her in. Is that something that could be replicated, something that could be illusion?

At this point, would he care?

There's a minute shake to his shoulders, a quiet hitch to his breathing. If this isn't real, if he's just holding on to a ghost, he doesn't want to know.]

[ Natasha didn't have the kind of life that most would say was worthy of a second chance. She was a liability to everyone around her and probably deserved to die for all the horrible things she'd done. All the theft and corruption; the injury and death. How does a person come back from all that and feel that they've redeemed themselves enough to deserve this? Him?

She holds onto him tightly, her face buried into his shoulder while his heart beat wildly in her chest. Natasha breaks the moment she hears a soft noise of relief and closes her eyes, not able to hold it together anymore either. ]

I'm here.

[ He was home. Always was. Always would be. ]

[Maybe there will be an argument, down the line. Maybe they'll have to find somewhere to fight it out just to get it out of their systems. Right now, right now it's more than enough that she's here, that they are both here, wherever here is, for whatever it's worth.

She was always the best of them. And she was gone too soon.

(And he had so much time with her. Time that Yelena never would, stolen out from under her.)

He's struggled to accept what happened. Knows that it's going to be a lifelong fight to learn to live with it. But here, there's a flicker of hope. That she might come home.

He pulls back just enough to press a kiss to her forehead.] Let's get out of here. [Unless this is a conversation they really want to have in the middle of a party. He's game for it, since public opinion has never exactly been something that's mattered to it, but their emotions are also their own damn business.]

[ Of that he can be certain. No matter how at odds they were (which was often enough), she could always count on him to never hold back. It was who he was and that was familiar and important to her, an anchor that she was thankful for keeping her from becoming adrift. He always had compassion and honesty, tolerance and patience for her. Sometimes soft and understanding, other times with flair only he was capable of to remind her he wasn't going to take any of her shit. He was her best friend, a mentor, a brother and the first man she implicitly trusted with her life.

One hand moves up to curl around the outside of his forearm lightly, keeping their closeness for a moment longer before nodding her assent. Natasha steps back and lets him lead them out. Only at the main entrance does she offer a suggestion: ]

I have a place a few blocks down unless you want to get some coffee somewhere closer.

[He won't let her get too far. Won't let her slip away, not again. If the grip on her hand as he leads them out in as much hurry as he allows without looking like he's running is painfully tight, well, she doesn't exactly have room to complain, does she?

He only hesitates when she makes a suggestion, and he huffs a quiet sound out his nose before letting them out to open air. It's so much cooler here, and it's a wonder it hadn't felt suffocatingly stuffy when he was inside. There's a distant but pervading ocean scent on the breeze. Reminds him they're a long way from home.

Or. He's a long way from home.

His grip eases up, still firm, but not as demanding. Somehow, it's as hard to look at her as it is to look away. Maybe if he thinks of this like a mission--

God, he's so fucking exhausted of this.]

I could use something a lot harder than coffee.

[But nothing from the party. Maybe nothing here at all, unless it's something he can trust. And he can barely trust his own senses right now. He motions for her to take over and lead the way. Anywhere but here. But somewhere safe and secure and alone with her would be best.]

[ He's struggling with everything, that much Natasha can see, even though she's been in his spot and knows how it feels. She remembers the first time she landed in the City and how long it took her to settle. Rather come to any reasonable definition of the word, especially with the constant push and pull of influences that were forced on not just her but all the Chosen.

The hardest part was watching people she knew come and go, knowing there was no place for her to go back to.

She turns to face him, taking her free hand to bring his face to look at her. Natasha's voice remains soft, but damn if she doesn't want his attention. ]

Hey, look at me. I'm not some made-up illusion here to trick you into anything. This isn't what happened to you in New York. This isn't Vormir. And it's not a dream. I'm here. Me, Clint. I need you to believe that because, by the time I do convince you, you're going to owe me BIG.

[ Her hand drops to the side of his neck, her hand framing his face as she tries to lighten things up, if even a little. ]

I know all this is hard, but I've been here before. Let's go to my place, and I'll tell you what I know. Okay?

[She grounds him. Gentle touches and firmly making him look at her, to keep him from spinning out of control, to keep the trapped bird of his heart from bursting out of his cage of a chest, to focus.

She had to take that duty up after Coulson, in a fashion. He needs something, someone, to be there to pull him back into himself. They've all seen what happens when he has nothing but himself to rely on. A weapon with no one to use it. A wildcard making up the rules as he goes. A dangerous asset with a skillset to be a one man army fallen into the wrong hands: his own.

He looks, and there is a brief but vivid moment that flashes in his eyes. Every muscle straining. The accepting look on her face. Please no.

He blinks, and he is in the City, and she is here, and they are both dressed for a party they don't actually want to be at. The sensation of warm alien waters surrounding him and the weight of a rock in his hand are just sense memory. He breathes in onetwothreefour and out onetwothreefour. Nods.]

I already owe you everything, Tasha.

The same way I owe you everything, Clint. Partners, remember?

[ There is nothing she can do about what choices were made in their world, nor is there a desire to change her mind when she gave her life so that Clint could have his back. It made sense to her then and still does. But now he's here, once again separated from Laura and the kids, but here with her. It isn't fair.

How does she try and get him back home again when she has no idea where they even are? Regardless of how long it takes, she'll find a way. That's her vow to herself.

For now, she'll enjoy having her best friend back.

With her hand still in his, she drops her other and takes a step back, gently pulling until he takes that first step forward. ]

Come on. I've got some pretty good tequila and a case of beer.

[He will follow her wherever she leads. To the ends of the earth, to hell and back, to another planet. There's so much to say. So much he's said to her already, except it was only ever to open air. So much he knows he doesn't have to say, because in their years together, they formed a method of communication that bordered on telepathic.

There's a canyon between them now. (No. There's a sheer cliff face.) But it's still her. He'll give her as many chances as it takes.]

I know someone who'll fight you for that title. She'd lose, easily, but she's not bad in a pinch.

[Easier to talk when it's something that isn't...about what happened.]

[ Once he's keeping pace, she falls in beside him, lacing her arm around his and keeping him close while directing them towards Chicory Lane.

Of course, she's going to scoff at the thought. Anyone who goes against her tends to lose badly and walk away bloody. Still, Natasha can't help the way her attention abruptly turns upwards to look up at him, her brow creasing to show she is totally unsure of who he is talking about. ]

You went and got a new partner? Who loses fights? What?!

[ She deadpans, feigning a smile even though the corners of her lips start twitching in amusement. ]

She decided we were partners; we are not partners except when we have to be.

[Kate will totally understand if this gets back to her, probably, maybe, definitely.]

She, uh. She's kind of a big fan and decided to be one of the world's best archers because turns out she saw me fighting in New York when she was a kid and saved her ass from Chitauri, and boom, modeled her life after me. Poor kid.

[ There's nothing but silence. Natasha isn't sure Clint's pulling her leg here, but even she had to admit he was a force during the invasion, so hearing that some kid grew up wanting to be just like him isn't a stretch, as far as she is concerned.

But it still makes her laugh out loud because she could picture him adamantly telling this young woman that he absolutely didn't need a partner. How could she possibly not be more endeared to him than she already was? ]

She saved your ass, didn't she?

[ It's the only way she can think of that he would feel compelled to tell her they were only partners when they had to be. Natasha tried not to let that sting, even if she knew deep down that this girl involving him probably helped him more than it didn't. ]

She--

[Hm. He could agree. He could brush it off as a joke. He could allude to the truth but not really get into it. They saved each other. They're partners. Her mess is his mess. His mess is hers. He still doesn't answer her incessant texts, knows she can make her own way. But still. Partners, right?

And then there's Yelena.

Shit, he's going to have to ease into that. But not yet. He clears his throat.]

She got caught up in the Ronin's mess. And then things got bigger from there.

[She was his responsibility. That's how it started, anyway.]

[ Natasha directs her gaze forward, brow furrowing at the information. She'd been tracking him as the Ronin through Rhodey, keeping him in her line of sight (mostly) until she hunted him down in Tokyo. She was aware of his self-destructive path and tried over and over to help give him the hope he needed to believe Laura and the kids would come back. But sooner or later, Natasha felt that by him keeping her at arm's length, she'd be spared of ever knowing if something bad happened to him. ]

What kind of mess? Bigger how?

[ She glances up at him again, eyes searching his. There's something he's not telling her. ]

Well, on the one hand, Kingpin ended up involved. On the other hand, my protege's mom sent a Black Widow after me.

[It doesn't answer how Kate got involved in his mess in the first place, but that's a slightly longer story. If Natasha's alive, if she's here, does she know what happened after? Does she know about Tony, about Steve, about the base being turned into a smoking crater and a battleground? She can probably guess that they succeeded, as he hasn't made any indication otherwise, but he also knows he hasn't said anything about the family, about anyone who came back.]

Plus, I crossed paths with the daughter of someone Ronin killed, and I didn't make a very good impression before she found out his identity. I gotta say, she's a damn good fighter. Someone we should get on our side, if she ever stops hating my guts.

[So, you know, just a normal Tuesday.]

[ If he thinks she's just going to let that second bit of information go as if it's run-of-the-mill stuff, he's wrong. Sure, the mention of Wilson Fisk is one thing that no doubt will lead to bigger things, with everything else being secondary information that is most certainly connected in one way or another but not nearly as important.

He brought up a Black Widow, and that has her stopping mid-step and turning to face him. Natasha's lips pressed together, looking down and past him. It was one of the things that crossed her mind after she got to the City, right after she sacrificed herself. She knew somehow that if they were successful in reversing the Blip, there was a possibility of the wrong person digging deep enough to find her sister and use her for the wrong reasons. Or she could only hope that the little blonde girl she tried to protect would protect herself.

Clint barely finishes before she says her name. ]

Yelena.

[He comes up short just a step ahead of her. There are still others out there. Natasha made a point of that. Other little girls who grew up to be dangerous women with no choice in their lives, all trying now to figure out how to be people again. It could've been any one of them.

But this isn't something to lie about. He still has the physical aches from the very sound beating she gave him, bruises still a mixture of sickly purples and yellows, and it's a miracle his head isn't still ringing like a bell.

He doesn't look at her.]

Yelena.

Who was the protege's mother?

[ It's instant, the over-protective big sister came out like an animal from the bushes. She needed all the information he had, even knowing that it did little to change what had already happened and what would inevitably still happen once Clint returned to his timeline. She knew eventually that Yelena would go looking for answers about how she died, and the person she would draw the line to first was Clint. Or anyone else from the Avengers group.

But someone else obviously got to her first. ]

I need to know what happened.

[And then he does look, because that's Nat in mission mode, and he needs to shut that down before she goes looking for a solution to a problem that isn't even there anymore.]

It's okay. It's done. It's resolved.

[You got so much time with her. And now here he is, getting more time with her. It will never be fair, never be even.

Their ledgers will never balance.

He sighs, lets his shoulders slacken.] She got in her licks, and we had a conversation, and she walked away. We're not friends, but we're not enemies. 'Bout as good as I can hope for, with her.

01. Test Drive Meme

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