tramitem_meme | Test Drive Meme #1

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Test Drive Meme #1

✦ TEST DRIVE MEME ✦
... And when my good dream came to an end, I woke up more than ready to bend ... Game Navigation

✦ Directions A few rules for the TDM: 1. Pick a prompt 2. Comment with your thread start, with your character name and fandom in the subject line. 3. Tag into other's threads. 4. Have fun! 5. And what happens on the TDM stays on the TDM (it's not taken in game). If you have questions, ask the MODS ✦ PROMPT ONE – Déjà Vu** This may not be the first time it has happened. You really wouldn’t have any way of knowing, would you? You’ve just been living your life as a citizen of the city you live in New York, the city, they say, that never sleeps. It’s a place you always wanted to live in, hearing about it as a child, and it sounded exciting to you. Or maybe it was the place you wanted to get to in order to become something more, something interesting, something that would bring you up in the world. You wanted to be there more than anything. But anyway, right now it sure seems like the first time it’s ever happened. You experienced a sudden flash, a rending of unreality from reality, the way a person would rend a piece of cloth in two, but this is the world, and you don’t know what to think at first. Because this isn’t your life. Except it totally is. You know it is, like you’ve never known anything. This is your memory and when you come out of it you know that was your life you were witnessing. This is known as the Event, and it will change everything for you. Those around you notice one thing about you during the time you’re experiencing this memory—you’re frozen, as if you’re frozen in time. And it’s catching. ✦ PROMPT TWO – Network Life before the Event and after are a study in contrast. Before, you thought you knew who you were and what you were doing here. Now, all of that is in turmoil. Especially after your encounter with the man from the Bureau. Now, you don’t really know whether to trust the man from the organization that came to talk to you. Something about him seemed...off. Something that was enough to, perhaps, even make you feel suspicious. But now you know...you are one of the Different. You feel like it, too. Members of the Different, the man from the Bureau told you, have their own special Network to communicate on. Will you post to it? Will you relate your memories to the others among the Different—or will you come up with something completely different to say? ✦ PROMPT THREE – Support Group There’s a generic spread of food on a table off to one side of the room: donuts and muffins, coffee and lemonade. Maybe you’re hungry enough to try it—it’s free after all. Or maybe you can’t stomach anything, given the event you’re attending. The space is a local rec center, reserved for the evening. The beige-painted cinder block walls and the fluorescent lighting are a terrible combination. The meeting was interesting—who knew there were so many people like you, receiving memories of a past life? The group was led by someone from The Bureau—the Department of Medical Services. Some people are staying in their chairs and chatting—they must know each other from previous meetings. Some of them are gravitating towards the food. How do you feel about tonight? Has it helped you come to terms with the dream of memories you’re having? Maybe it’s time to talk to others, get an understanding of their experience. ✦ PROMPT FOUR – Crime wave New York City has grown increasingly more safe over the last decade or two—statistics bear that out, as well as the experiences of the people who live here. But something seems to have suddenly broken in the hearts and minds of your fellow-citizens here in the last day, ever since the sun has come up. People are being incredibly opportunistic about carrying out their wildest dreams, or at least, as long as their wildest dreams include attacking people around them to try rob them or to kill them. The longer the day goes on, the more and more people seem unable to resist giving into their bases desires. Bank robberies are happening right and left. The strangest part of it all, though, is that anyone who is defied by their victim seems to snap out of some reverie they couldn’t control. That’s right, this whole crime wave seems to be some kind of brain sickness. Maybe this means the people around you need to be cured by having someone fight back. Or maybe it means you catch the sickness yourself, before you know it. ...Maybe it’s time to hide and ride the whole crime wave out somewhere where you won’t become collateral damage. ✦ PROMPT FIVE – Zombie Universe Bleed Over - the crack option (Third person log or First person Network response are both encouraged.) One week ago you were living an average life. You were trying to make New York City work for you, a place to call home. Were you in a rough patch? Were things just starting to pick up? Or was life swimming along as you expected? Today, you are running down the street with a lumbering hoard of the Undead ambling after you. They have caught the scent of your living brain and it is a tasty snack to them. You have a weapon in hand - a pipe? a crowbar? a bat? but there are too many behind you to take them all out before they get you. You’re only option is to run, find help. (Power mode – along with your memories you’ve started getting back powers, what if you tried them out against the zombies?) When you were told that different universes bleed over into this one, did you believe it? Do you believe it now? ✦ PROMPT SIX – Wildcard What are you doing around NYC?
... What dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause ...
( return to top \| Last updated: January 23, 2020 )

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"I am, actually."

Totally not sarcastic and skating over to join Clint at the wall. "You haven't busted your ass, yet, to start with. You just need some mechanics, some physics, and some confidence. Come on, give me your hands." He held both his hands out, palm up.

He hates the wall. Getting stuck on it is a no go from him, dammit.

He doesn't comment on that 'yet'. It will happen, he knows it will, and he's at peace with risking his tailbone. He also doesn't make the obvious tease when he sets his hands in Ben's, though the joke does occur to him and his grin gives it away.

"You did competitions, didn't you?" He asks instead.

He has not the first idea what the obvious joke is, or why Clint is grinning like that, but he takes hold of Clint's hands and pulls him out into near the exact middle of the ice.

"Yeah. I kind of grew up skating. Started when I was four."

Where he lets go and skates backward about ten feet away from Clint and stops and beckons.

"Come to me."

Four? Clint is pretty sure the only thing in his life that he's stuck to that long is eating.

He was right about the acoustics, they're terrible and he can see Ben's mouth move but nothing reaches him. The gesture does fine, though, and he moves carefully forward. Careful, this time, because he doesn't want to slam into Ben like he used to do to Barney.

"Good. Now stop." He backs off some once Clint gets close, but also holds his hand up, palm out.

The acoustics in here aren't great, and he knows that. At least he hadn't put on music.

It's a good thing Ben backed off. Clint stops as soon as he sees that hand, but it takes a second of oh shit how to remember what to do with his feet. He does not fall on his face, does not break his wrists either, and he doesn't hit Ben.

"Really didn't think that would work," he admits, admiring his skates and how they almost come to a point at the toes.

He grins in delight at Clint's admission. "Skating's all physics. If your skates are pointing at each other the- You know what, never mind. Let's do it again, only faster. Then I'll teach you some fun stuff and see if I can make you fall."

He's a coach. He is required to have a sadistic streak, isn't he?

"That's what I thought you were doing with this," Clint laughs, but now that he knows he can really truly brake he follows Ben's lead. Faster. Ben has a sadistic streak and that pairs nicely with how willing Clint is to bust his own face open.

"Oh no, this is just the easy part. You're going to learn to spin next."

He's entirely unwilling to let Clint bust his face open, though. Ass, yes. Face, no.

So while he pushes Clint for speed, and keeps backing up this time he stays close enough that if Clint falls forward he can catch him.

When they've found a pretty decent clip, Clint makes the mistake of shifting his weight too far and he does fall. There's nothing graceful about this either, but he doesn't flail or panic--too many falls throughout his life for that. He will, however, be very grateful to be caught and very bloodied if he's not.

Obi-Wan is not a large man. He is, however, very, very solid on skates and even a few years out from his competitive career is damn strong and fit.

Also that his last time was in pairs means that he is pretty used to grabbing and lifting and throwing. Which is a lot harder than just catching.

He catches Clint, albeit somewhat awkwardly and rather than let his face hit the ice hauls him back up. Then drops Clint on his ass before Clint can pull him down.

"Perfect," he says, happily!

He doesn't go down as hard as one would think. Ben catching him and redirecting him provides enough of a change that he barely even oofs when he lands.

"You're supposed to do a somersault at the end?" Clint teases. He's a perfectionist--Ben will realize that later when it's too late--but he's laid back enough to enjoy the mistakes, too.

"Spin, not flip," he says, like he isn't going slightly wide-eyed in absolute horror of the idea. Does he need to put a helmet on Clint before he lets the man back on the ice? Maybe full goalie gear and padding? Because he will. "Flipping is bad. Ice is hard. Keep your head off it." Please.

"Roger that. I'm a real downer when I have a concussion anyway." Getting up to his feet sounds trickier than it ends up being, and he feels distinctly pleased with himself when he manages it. "You look nervous, teacher."

He could have probably helped make that easier with some instructions, but - nah.

"I am suddenly very concerned about my liability insurance premiums." He is joking, but - "You're a bit of a daredevil."

Clint grins. "A bit," more than a bit. "But you know how to do triple axles, you've got some dare in you, too, huh?"

"Maybe a little." But also he knows how to do the - Okay, fine, he fell down a lot, and it was worth it for the success. "I'm just impressed you know what a triple axle is." Not even specifically. Just enough to know it involved some risk.

"Olympic skating was a big thing in my house when I was a kid. All the sports I guess, but the skating was what I'd sit down for." If he's self-conscious it's not because he's a fan; it's just uncomfortable to think back to when he'd been a kid, and realize those nights around a blocky, grainy TV were some of the best. "There are some weird names for the moves, though."

That....

That is really endearing, Clint. The discomfort maybe not so much, but just the memory and willingness to share it.

"A lot of the names come from the person who invented them, rather than anything descriptive, and just as many of them the only major differences are which direction you're facing or what part of the blade you take off from. I have no idea how anyone not in skating follows it at all. Anyway, super easy spin if you want it?"

"More reason to get in it, right?" He straightens up, more than ready to try. "How do I do it?"

"Depends on how important it is for you to be able to tell an axle from a toe loop from a lutz," he said, with amusement, but -

"I'm going to give you the six year old version first. Don't be insulted.." He hoped, because this was a bit beneath Clint's current ability. "Left arm in front of you, bent at the elbow. Twist to the right and reach behind you with your right arm. Then pull it in fast and hard, bring your arms together." Just centrifugal force. "Keep your feet together."

Physics can be relied on to do certain things, and in this case it gets Clint to spin.

"I should've come to the six year old class, I could show 'em all up with this," he grins, doing it again, trying it from the other side.

"I don't know, Clint, I've seen some impressive six year olds.... You might have some competition." He watches Clint with a little grin, because seeing him have fun makes him really glad he issued the invitation.

"Great, now add your right leg to the mix. Push off, bring it in, watch your center of gravity." He demonstrates once he's finished speaking slowed down.

The first two times, Clint is careful. But after that he pushes himself, seeing how many times he can spin, figuring things like dizziness won't matter. He's wrong on that but he doesn't fall...he nearly does, but he catches himself.

"How different did my spin look from yours, be honest," he's betting it was very.

Ah, there's the perfectionist. Enough so that Ben actually goes quiet and tilts his head at Clint in....

He's not sure if he is impressed, or amused, or mildly horrified.

Maybe all of the above.

...probably all of the above.

"I've been skating for twenty-five years. It looked different. It also looked damn good for someone who couldn't do a turn fifteen minutes ago." He is not joking about that. "You've got really good balance."

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