TEST DRIVE #6

[fairyfoes]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Considering apping to EACHDRAIDH? Why not give the setting a test run here! OPTIONAL SCENARIOS 01. ARRIVING IN THE DRABWURLD. The Seelie and Unseelie courts welcome you with mirthful revelry and hearty food. After you have been briefed on your purpose here, you will find an endless feast and a night filled with entertainment to placate your concerns. Mingle with new arrivals, sneak down the castle halls and make sure your eyes are always on your glass; fairies and imps have no bias when it comes to tricks! 02. THE STATION. Looking for a little slice of home? The Station gives you all that and more. Take advantage of the wifi, have a cup of fairy-brewed coffee (the one they didn't spit in) or sit back and relax on the patio. You can even move your things into one of the available rooms! 03. WILDCARD. Your own scenario! Explore the Drabwurld or simply take advantage of your Locket!

Comments

[debts]

Where that— [ She nods to his arm. ] —functions properly?

[ That's her first guess. Neutral is better, but operating in a clandestine enviroment usually means picking a side. It means having an agenda, and it means weighing up the parts of you that align with a cause. Taking a stand is the kind of thing Natasha didn't do, before, but— well. Steve Rogers and his bad influence. Being a hero. All of that, she's still getting used to.

But that can come later. Right now: ]

I can't imagine anybody being happy with a neutral choice.

[wipedclean]

Only one where it works.

[And only in its sphere of influence. It's not a wide range, which is one reason he's hesitant to take Steve's offer. It feels a little too much like being caged to him, even if it's not the case. Still, it's better to have the arm working than not, for various reason, not the least of which being his own body's upkeep.

As for neutrality... well. He shrugs, one shoulder moving up and down and the other remaining still.]

Better than being forced.

[debts]

[ Again, a huff of laughter. This time, it sounds equal parts knowing and dry. ]

Yeah.

[ Freedom of choice is important. She needs to delve into the Unseelie library but, so far, at least they believe in that core tenet. Natasha rolls a shoulder back — a physical tic rather than readying herself for anything — and considers. ]

I'm going for a walk.

[ Her chin tips. ]

Wanna come with?

[wipedclean]

[He looks at her, tilts his head, considers her.

Well. They haven't tried to kill each other yet. No reason to. So he does his one-shoulder shrug again and nods, standing.]

Yes.

[debts]

[ It's a test, kind of. Natasha wants to see how he walks, how he carries himself without the arm; how it affects his balance, the basic stride that constructs a physicality. She doesn't actually have a direction in mind but she thinks might get a pass on exploring if she's with someone who's been here longer, even if they're not involved.

So it's along the walls first, mapping the outsides that spin out from the courtyard. That knife she stole before, it's palmed and put away, and Natasha doesn't bother to fill the silence up, just watches him from the corner of her eye. ]

[wipedclean]

[He follows, a few steps behind. He's already been over much of the castle, and though he only spent a few days here, he's got most of the layout memorized. He watches her, even as she watches him, on the off chance that she decides to pull that knife out again. He doesn't think she will, but he doesn't know her, doesn't trust her.

Given that he's had several weeks to get used to the dead arm in a sling, his balance is fine, though his stance and pace is fairly different. The weight is being carried in front now, and though it's different, he's had enough time to get used to how to move with it to prevent it from affecting him negatively.

He makes no comment on the path, nor does he say anything at all. There's nothing to say.]

[debts]

[ Good. He's making up for the deficit &madsh; his training hasn't lacked out, though sometimes these things can be deep enough for muscle memory anyway. There's nothing to say, and right now Natasha is most interested in the things he doesn't. She didn't feel like saying very much after her defection either, though that was for wholly more political reasons, and she doubts that James Barnes has a sudden interest in fairy courts. ]

So.

[ Natasha leads them on a path that she thinks might be circling back around to the feast. If not, then— it'll be fun. Or something. ]

No more missions. [ Not subtle, but that's not what she's aiming for. ]

[wipedclean]

[His gaze, which had been drifting around their surroundings, comes to rest directly on her at her comment, his brow furrowing.

He doesn't answer right away.

No more missions is one of the things he's... having a little trouble coming to terms with. On the one hand, no, he's not being used, and he gets to choose what he does next.

On the other hand, being faced with so much choice is... overwhelming. Sometimes... he almost misses it. At least with Hydra he had a purpose. Now? He's... aimless.

Not entirely, of course, trying to figure out who he is apart from Hydra is no small matter, but there was a simplicity to his existence with Hydra that...

No. He's not going to think about it that way.]

No.

[No more missions.]

[debts]

And Steve, [ Natasha continues, less because she knows Steve but knows men like him, who love too hard and never let go. ] He's around a lot, right?

[ The implication there is that he's around too much, maybe. While James looks directly at her, Natasha's gaze flits to her surroundings, making mental maps and taking note. To operate within the realm of cold warfare, you have to know the land. Even if it's completely from scratch. ]

[wipedclean]

[His gaze drops away again, and he shrugs slightly, one shoulder moving as the other remains still, dead.]

When he can.

[It's not too much. Really, he prefers Steve to be around, because it gives him... focus, of a kind. Grounding. And he remembers more when Steve is there than when he's not. But obviously he can't be around all the time, and maybe... maybe he shouldn't be.]

[debts]

[ That's not a lot to go off of, even for her. Natasha considers it, the way his gaze drops and shoulder tics, and decides to ask anyway:— ]

There are missions that don't involve kill orders.

[ She wonders if that interests him at all. ]

[wipedclean]

[That does get his attention. He looks back up at her, his brow furrowing in a silent question.

Of course missions involve kill orders. That's why he exists. There'd be no point otherwise. Maybe a mission is more along the lines of "stop this from happening" or "find out what is going on here" but there's always blood involved.

How can it be otherwise?]

[debts]

[ A silent question that she meets, eventually. But only after a beat of blinking at him, her own expression as unreadable as his silence. ]

Some are about reconnaissance or intel-gathering.

[ She points out. Not that she's an expert in doing that without bloodshed, either. ]

We're on one right now. Well— I am. [ Not a lie. But it's also something that doesn't cost her anything to give. ]

[wipedclean]

[He blinks, because, well, that doesn't make a lot of sense. To him, a mission is completed for someone. Is she working for somebody already? That's ridiculous, she only just got here. It's possible she's considering it a mission because she'll hand the intel off later, but that's still... strange to him.

He's always worked for Hydra. Everything has always been for Hydra.

So who's she working for now?]

Who for?

[debts]

Me.

[ Probably not the smoothest segue into the concept of agency, but Natasha didn't really plan for this conversation to take place in a fairy castle. Or for him to be lucid enough to have it in the first place. ]

[wipedclean]

[His steps slow to a stop as he stares at her.

It doesn't make sense. Everyone's always working for something, someone, some larger goal even. Without that, what's the purpose? There is no purpose.

But she says she's doing it for herself.

And... it seems like it should be a simple concept, but he struggles to understand it.]

...no.

[debts]

[ She stops. The mirroring of body language comes, for the most part, without much thought, and she stares back. It's not challenging, veering more on reaction rather than patience . ]

Okay.

[ Everyone always has a larger goal. She'll listen to Steve, and if the time comes, maybe she'll listen to the Unseelie. But she's her own woman, first, last and always.

Natasha ticks her eyebrow. ]

We don't have to get into it.

[wipedclean]

[He frowns and nods, his gaze shifting away. He's not sure he wants to have this conversation with her anyway, not when he's still not sure of her in general.

He glances back at her for a moment because... there was something... for a brief moment she seemed familiar in a way that didn't relate to the fight on the bridge.

But the moment passes, and his gaze shifts away once more.]

[debts]

[ The first glance is easy. The second glance is— more difficult, something she can't pick apart because she doesn't recognize it. Not shaped like that, not here.

She pushes past it. Her hand gestures idly in the air. ]

I think I'm going to go back to the feast.

[wipedclean]

[He nods. He's not sure yet if he wants to go back or not. He may have had his fill of being around people for the day. He'll probably go back to Ariadne's manor, despite the fact that there's a room in the castle for him if he wants it. He's more comfortable there, so far.

He hesitates, because this is Steve's friend, and maybe Steve's friend should know about Ariadne's place? Steve would probably tell her.

He lets out a soft sigh.]

I'm... going. Leaving.

[debts]

Okay.

[ She expected as much. Natasha rolls her shoulders back and straightens her spine — a physical tune-up, even if she doesn't intend to carry that body language all the way back inside.

She waves her hand. ]

до свидания.

[wipedclean]

[He blinks a little at the Russian, understanding it perfectly, but choosing not to respond. He nods instead, walking past her toward the main entrance. He's going back to Ariadne's. If she wants to follow, she can, and he won't care, but it's a long hike through dangerous woods. If she doesn't, that's fine too. He expects he'll be hearing from her sooner or later.]