pathemaooc | Test Drive #2

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Test Drive #2

ARRIVAL: Your character wakes up in a temple completely naked except for the collar around their neck. Near the spot they wake up is a pile of clothing that is NOT what your character was wearing before they woke up. When they unfold the clothing they will find it's a toga and that there's a pair of sandals under it. Too bad, that's all there is. The sound of bells soon fills the temple, drowning out the noise of chatter and panic, drawing your attention to the statue in the center of the temple before a loud, booming voice fills your head:

Welcome, Honored Guests. I trust you’ve found everything easily enough. You may consider your Toga a token of my generosity and I trust the footwear will be more than sufficient;

Now I’m certain that you all have many questions, so perhaps you’ll permit me to explain.

I, Eros, Son of Ares and Aphrodite, God of Love and Sexual Desire, have brought you to Pathema for a very simple purpose. I offer you sanctuary from the trials and tribulations of your all too dreary existences and in return, I ask only one thing of you.

Your devotion.

I have seen how reluctant you creatures can be when it comes to matters of the flesh, and so I have ensured that all of you shall have the proper encouragement.

Surely you must be aware by now that each of you have been fitted with a collar. I wouldn’t try and remove them if I were you. Your petty magics, or force, will do little more than cause them to tighten I’m afraid.

Over a period of fourteen days, your collars will tighten. I’m told it’s a terribly uncomfortable experience and I wouldn’t suggest you push your limits but you mortals are rather a stubborn lot. Still, never let it be said that I didn’t try to warn you.

Now if at the end of those fourteen days, you have still refused to show your devotion to your God? You will simply cease to exist.

Oh, come now. I am not a cruel and capricious God. You’ll be permitted to return to your previous state of existence, for the mere price of something that you hold dear. A memory of those trivial times from before you were brought to your new home

Ah, yes. I do believe I have your attention now, don’t I?

But of course, how can you, mere peasants, show your God how much you adore him? I should think the answer is very simple, don’t you? I am the God of Sexual Desire after all.

SPRING FESTIVAL: Flowers are in bloom, birds are singing their love songs, and the residents of Pathéma are celebrating the arrival of Spring! Stalls of flowers can be found in the market place, fresh pressed juices and berries are sold and everyone feels more friendly than usual.

At night, bondfires are lit on the beach, and tables of food from your world are displayed alongside food from foreign places. Music is played all night long, and dancers pull strangers to join them, while the fire breathers put on a show for all to see. At midnight, fireworks light up the night skies before the party rages on until the sun comes up.

Blankets are available all over the beach, some giving more privacy than others...

NETWORK: Everyone is provided with a communication device that gives them access to an island-wide network. These can be used for so many things! Send pictures of the drunk guy at the bar, your boobs or whatever you want!!

WILDCARD: There are forests, mountains, marketplaces, all sorts of places to go and explore on the island. Ideas for settings can be found on the locations pages!

**TDM threads can be used as your sample in your application! It can also be considered in game canon if it is agreed on by all characters involved in said threads.

//LINKS// Game FAQ // Rules // Taken // Reserves // Application // Full Navigation // Network // Logs // Info // OOC

CODED BY TESSISAMESS

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Peggy's still fidgeting with the device, but when she looks up to ask him where, she's caught off guard by Steve kissing her. She sways back before she catches herself, refusing to let any body language imply she doesn't want this, absolutely. With her free hand, she slides her splayed fingers up his chest to use his shirt as leverage to bring herself in for a kiss that's more desperate than she wants it to be, but she cannot help it.

She's had one kiss with him that had been too brief and rushed and if he really is here and alive, she refuses to let him get away from her. She stops herself when she's on her tiptoes, pursuing the kiss into something deeper, but only because they're still in public and the strap of her toga is falling again.

"Steve," she gets out, dazed and trying to get her wits about her. "Careful what you start," she murmurs, with the implication in her words that she's not going to let him stop.

He was slow to pull back when Peggy speaks, and he's still a little dazed himself. Steve blinks, his eyes dark blue, then he smiles, a slow curving of his lips.

"And what if I was starting something?" He fiddles with her strap again, then his hands slip down to her hips before he steps back.

"But not out here. Come on, I know where your house is." The implication is clear, that at the very least he was going to continue what he started.

The man she loves has come back from the dead to torture her, it seems. Flustered when he replies with much more charm than she's used to from him, she steps forward only to pull back when he does. It's likely for the best to allow some space between them, but those lovely hands of his are so tempting. They had been before the serum, so lithe and long, expertly wielding a pencil.

"Yes, that's a prudent idea," she agrees, clearing her throat to clear out the pesky arousal that's weighting it down at least an octave. "Then you can explain to me how any of this is possible."

He never died. Tried his damned best, though. But he's learned a little charm.

Steve nodded, hearing that sharp note of command in her voice. "I shall endeavor to give a full report, ma'am." He sketches a salute, then points in the direction they needed to go.

"That way, Peggy."

Once Peggy turns, she'll find that Steve rests a warm hand over her lower back.

The touch is so wanted and foreign. They couldn't dare do this during the war, both because there were more important things, but also Peggy didn't dare invite the comments from the men. Still, she'd always found herself dreaming about it in New York, especially when she found herself in Brooklyn, wanting to feel Steve's hand just like that as he told her more about the alleyways he'd become so aware of.

She leans back into the touch, feeling rather awkward with her hands as she folds them in front of her, holding tightly to the device as she stares at the instructions, following them and Steve's direction until they reach a little house. "It's not as bad as I expected," she confesses, but perhaps she has a habit of being pessimistic (or realistic, as she'd say).

"Better than a tent, at least. And not that bad in the heat," Steve says, enjoying the fact that he could actually touch Peggy like he hoped and dreamed about. And she didn't forget him.

"Water comes from a well, fire is the only way to cook, or heat water. But there's some furniture. And your clothes." He jerked his chin at the door.

"May I?"

If that's the worst of it, then she'll be fine. "It's hardly like I'm a wonderful cook," she confesses. "You're just lucky it was never my turn to cook something up with the Howling Commandos, I might have benched the whole squad from food poisoning," she says, self-deprecating, but only slightly exaggerating. Cooking was not a lesson Peggy ever took to heart. She allows him entrance with a faintly amused nod of her head, not sure why Steve thinks she's daring to let him out of her sight until she has more answers.

She opens the door, feeling silly for how delighted she is to see clothes, and hers, at that. She turns to press onto the tips of her toes so she can kiss Steve on the cheek before heading to fetch them, using a finger to tell Steve to turn around.

Peggy might not mind him seeing, but she does also like the concept of a little showmanship. "Do you mind if I change, quickly?"

"I wondered why it seemed your name never came up in the rotation." Steve teases as he takes a seat, his back properly turned around.

"I would mind if it was slow and where I couldn't see. Sadly, I don't have paper and pencil or I could draw you."

"If I did, I'd quickly be taken off. The last time I did, Morita accused me of trying to poison him with charcoal," she says, unfolding the clothes to search for something suitable. She knows that it's silly to want to dress up and look good when Steve has already seen her, but she still wants to as a point of pride.

It does take her longer than she'd like to, but she manages to slide on her brassiere, underwear, the garters and stockings, affixing her red skirt and silk cream blouse atop. She's missing her lipstick and an actual style to her hair, but given a moment's notice after being kidnapped, it's not so bad.

She inches closer, sliding her palms slowly up Steve's back from behind, like she's in the middle of one of her fantasies. "You can draw me later," she says, rounding him to perch and give him a pointed look. "How did you survive? How long have you been here?" she demands. "When was the last time you saw me?"

Steve shivered at the touch of her hands on his back, turning his head to look at Peggy as she came around him.

The last time I saw you, you were in the nursing home forgetting me., Steve thought at that question, managing to not spill that yet.

"I was frozen. Suspended animation, I suppose would be the name for it. I woke up in New York. April 17, 2012. They found me in the Valkyrie, and by they I mean Russian engineers looking for oil in Greenland." He pauses, licking his lips in anxiety.

"I saw you a few days before I came here." That's close enough?

She takes in the information and tries her best to remain steady, but the trouble is that hearing that Steve had been in the ice for nearly seventy years is almost too much for her heart to bear. "What year was it, when you last saw me?" She swallows back the guilt of not looking harder for Steve, wishing that she hadn't given up on him, that she hadn't convinced Howard he was dead.

If only they had found him earlier, she never would have needed to grieve for the man she loved. She bows her head down when she feels a sharp pang of grief so overwhelming that she knows it's clouding her eyes instantly. "You must have had a life, then," is what she says, her words heavy. "You woke up, in the future, alone." He might have gone dancing at clubs with others, made new friends, new connections, new purposes.

They were supposed to do that together. She stands, suddenly, turning her back in the guise of rifling through her clothes, attempting to smooth them out, because she can feel the heartache growing worse, threatening to consume her whole.

He sucked in a shuddering breath. "2014. You lived your life while I was in the ice."

He sat back, thumping his head against the wall. "Not much of one. Woke up, got back in no more than two weeks later. Went to look for the Tesseract of all things, to get it back, and also fight aliens invading New York. Then it was SHIELD training, and I was in DC. HYDRA got into SHIELD sometime after it was founded. You were one of the founders by the way. Bucky. Bucky made it through the fall. He was alive, and none of us went back for him. Hydra made him into a weapon. And I took down SHIELD. Too infested with Hydra. I was on my way to start looking for Bucky and woke up here."

Well, Steve certainly knows how to kill the mood, doesn't he? The trouble with all of this is that it's barely 1947 for her, she's still been hampered and barely able to move on, and the only life she's led is one with Steve's large, looming shadow casting itself over her. Now, to hear that he's alive and Barnes is, too?

The guilt is certainly enough to cripple even the strongest of people. Peggy has to press a hand to the wall, still facing mostly away from Steve, trying to absorb all this. "I don't know what SHIELD is," she finally says, after she's mustered the strength to face Steve. "It was 1947, moments ago, I was in Los Angeles with Howard and the SSR, trying to shut down zero matter."

She apparently founded an agency, but it was riddled with HYDRA the whole time, which means her life's work, her entire life, had been for nothing. Truthfully, Peggy feels a touch ill at the moment, as if a whole life had been for nothing. Not to mention, 2014, meaning that she would have been ninety-three, far too old, far too much time wasted. Feeling exhausted and empty, Peggy returns to the bed because she needs to sit down before she slumps over, not sure what else there is to say.

Yes, he does. He's very gifted at killing the mood. But Steve could never lie all that well, and better she knows now, than later. But he's never going to breathe a word that she would forget him.

Steve shifts over as Peggy collapses next to him, and he puts an arm around her, tucking her into his side.

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division is the full name. It came after the SSR. Col. Phillips and Howard helped you with it. They let Zola in. That's how." He sighs and continues.

"Everything you worked for. Everything we believed in, twisted. There wasn't saving it. I wanted to because it was your life's work. But. Too infested. And there was Bucky too. I think I got to him a little. At the end, and I was going to look for him, but ended up here. Then he showed up here, too."

She's not entirely sure what to think about the fact that Armin Zola is working with them. That sick feeling in her stomach isn't going away, but the warmth of Steve's arm around her makes her feel oddly comforted, even if she still doesn't understand so much about this place. "Steve," she murmurs, reaching for his hand to take it in hers, threading their fingers together. "How could we make such a mess of things?"

"I still have dreams, you know, that you landed the Valkyrie and made it back to me," she says. "Right now, I can feel your warmth, your breathing, your presence, and it's like one of those dreams," she says, quietly. "As if I'll close my eyes and you'll be gone, but the truth is, from what you're telling me, it's more a nightmare in some respects. My professional life, down the drain," she sighs.

"I. Was less than happy to find out what happened. And didn't know who I could trust. All because someone thought it was a great idea to let Zola into something that fought against his idealogy."

Steve squeezes Peggy's hand, before he pulled it up to brush a kiss over her knuckles. "They tried to have me think it was 1945 when I woke up. Special set dressing and everything. When I was told it was 2012, my first thought was you. And that I didn't show up to our date."

She's a little dizzy with the easy affection and the ease with which he gives it. That annoying little voice in her head (her own, not Eros) is telling her that her Steve had never been this smooth and he'd had to learn it from somewhere, which is just another reminder of the gap in their lives; hers from losing him to now. His, from crashing into the ice and then waking up.

"They were bloody idiots," she announces with firm annoyance. "If you had awoken in 1945, the doctors would have had to fight me tooth and nail to stop me from being at your bedside when you woke."

[ ooc: moved here ]

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Test Drive #2

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