APRIL 2015

[thecanopycrew]

Uncertain if this is a game for you? Curious to see how your character would act in it? Testing the waters? Then take them on this Home Tree Test Drive! directions ❀ Don't forget to read the Introduction , our Rules and the F.A.Q ❀ Post with your character with their name and canon in the subject line. ❀ Use the prompt(s) given here or make up your own! ❀ Both prose and comment spam format are welcome. ❀ Tag around! Make friends. Don't be afraid to discuss OOCly while tagging. ❀ The Test Drive Meme can be used for your application's first person sample. ❀ This meme is is considered as OOC and not part of the game's canon. prompt Night of the Fireflies! It is late at night after you have gained your wings, and the tree is surprisingly dark. All the fireflies have gathered outside, flying around the tree in a display of glittering stars. It is almost as if they little critters are dancing with joy to see the new friends joining the Tree. On the first floor's branch, the glow worms have settled, illuminating the whole bark like a shining band of Christmas lights - and they, too, are reveling in the joy of new adventurers. Explore how your new gem works, try put your leaf clothes and join the critters in their dance - or simply watch them imitate the starts in the sky. It's a nice night to meet new friends. Just bring a squirrel fur or two, it's still cold outside.

Night Gem Wing Inspiration ❀ Day Gem Wing Inspiration

Comments

[redactions]

He makes a so-so gesture with his hand, shifting in his little corner to make space. Weird black floaty thing or not, never hurts to be polite. 'Not much of a writer,' he says. 'Less of a singer. James Barnes. Nice to meet ya. Guessin' nobody has in a while.'

Hi, hello, I want to join this game sob

[isolophobia]

Pitch Black is less of a name and more of a 'it made sense at the time'. He also hasn't stopped invading your space, in spite of the room made for him.

"You're afraid often. You have become very good at not showing the fear, but it's there isn't it? Tell me more. Oh do tell me who she is?"

hello have some tea

[redactions]

Now wariness skirts the edges of his generally affable demeanour. Bucky's no stranger to invading someone's personal space, in fact he's a capital offender where Steve and his sisters were concerned, but this is unwanted. He draws a leg up, casually, staring back at Pitch.

'"She"?' he inquires. 'Not sure what you're smokin', pal, but this ain't funny.'

/sips tea with sippy straw ;;

[isolophobia]

"No, no not she."

Hey Pitch has been wrong plenty of times before. Frankly he's glad when he's wrong. Because then it's something interesting. Something new.

"Ah, there is an old fear here, isn't there? Or at least the kind of fear that can find the cracks in every day living. The kind that seeps through and takes hold just on the edge of you knowing about it. Until one day--"

And suddenly Pitch has stepped sideways into a shadow and vanishes.When he reappears out of the shadowy alcove in the spot Bucky made for him to sit in, he's still smiling, though substantially backed off.

"--you just disappear."

[redactions]

Congratulations on being the first person besides a Nazi to make James Barnes go from zero to "what the fuck" in less than a few seconds. His expression holds its faint amusement, the rest of him is impassive and still. Waiting for the guns to start firing and the mortars to come down. Things that flit through walls and shadows are hardly new or terrifying, and if they were real, he'd imagine worse than Pitch there waiting for him.

'Uh-huh. Anybody ever told you that you're a terrible conversationalist? Throw me a bone here.'

[isolophobia]

"Rib, femur, phalanges or jawbone?"

Bucky, you are having a conversation with the anthropomorphic personification of fear. He wouldn't be much good at his job if you weren't going from zero to 'what the fuck' in a few seconds. The only thing he knows about a person is their greatest fear. Things like context are harder, so don't tell Steve that Pitch Black thought that connection must mean a wife, because mortals do pair bonding in opposing genders, right?

[redactions]

'Let's go with rib.'

He can play games, even if they're ones with teeth, on tightropes with no nets below. Always been a little for thrills - or he doubts he'd ever have followed a punk kid from Brooklyn otherwise, and he's pulled his share of damn stupid stunts in back alleys and on the battlefield.

'Who are you?'

[isolophobia]

Here, have a sun-bleached rib bone. It looks like it was just sitting on the other side of him, but there was most certainly nothing there. If you take your eyes off of it for a few seconds it will vanish.

"You know who I am, Bucky."

As if the creeper vibe wasn't bad enough, there's the nickname you never told him. There are several salty words that will work for a name, because he really doesn't have one. At least not one he remembers.

[redactions]

Is this guy reading his mind or something? If he is, Buck immediately skeers his thoughts to a small foxhole, focuses on the smell of earth and the shade of Steve's shield they used to jam into the side of the wall for cover. It's a poor defence if that's really the case, but it's what he has, and it kept him sane on the Zola's table. He eyes the bone like it might be a grenade.

If the man's the Devil himself - well he's late. Rude.

'Must've missed that dance,' he says, simply. 'Remind me.'

[isolophobia]

He's doing no such thing. Pitch Black doesn't have the first clue about Steve, Zola, or any of it beyond Bucky's fear. Even things like shortening that nickname is unknown. But he doe seem to set that bone back down on his other side with a disappointed sigh and roll of his gold eyes.

"You mortals are so hung up on names. Coco, le croque-mitaine, der schwartz mann, uncle gunnysack, Pitch Black, do you want me to continue?"

Spoil all his fun, Bucky. Fine, make it super simple. tl;dr = fear.

[redactions]

'You're the boogeyman?' He tilts his head curiously. 'Huh. Thought you'd be taller.'

It's of course, just proof of something Pitch already knows: he is very good at not showing fear. Weakness didn't get one far on Brooklyn's streets or during the War, and a little fear was healthy, too much was askin' for a babysitter or a transfer, and nobody wanted to disappoint their brothers-in-arms like that.

'So what's that about not bein' seen?'

[isolophobia]

"Being a shambling mound of eyes and limbs is only fun in asylums."

...don't ask.

"When you were very young, what were you told about nightmares? You were told they were not real weren't you. That fear of the dark wasn't necessary. That there was no such thing as the boogeyman."

Pitch gradually goes from amused to somber saying it. Sure he's said it all before but that doesn't make it suck less.

[redactions]

... okay. Not asking. Bucky gives him an odd look, something that marries curiosity and wariness. But he's ever the diplomat. Always talk first before you punch something, never start a fight but always finish it.

'Pal,' he says, neutrally. 'Anybody who tells ya they ain't scared is lying. Now - depends on whether that fear rules 'em or not.' And he knows, while his is there, it can be contained. 'You need to feed on this or somethin'? That how it works?'

[isolophobia]

"Oh, if it were only that simple."

Because you are absolutely right; everyone does feel fear. Pitch just crosses one knee over the other. Then sets his chin on a fist.

"You need food, or you'll die. You need water, or you'll die. You need air, or you'll die very much quicker.

Yes, consuming fear is a little like consuming food, but it will not ensure survival."

Actually it's nothing like food, but whatever metaphor helps.

"Adults don't often believe in the stories anymore. But think back to when you were small. Did you need a light on, or the door open? Did you ever hear frightening tales about the dark man that haunted the abandoned lot down the street, or reached out of the closet? The little ones are more likely to believe."

And we're back to leaning into your space.

"Adults don't see us without some sort of...trauma. So here I am with moth wings and someone who can hear me"

Does beg the question if the wins are responsible.

[redactions]

It's a nice little tale, the hard lines of a web nearly finished, but Natasha's taught him a few things about spiders. They're not nearly this impatient. Poor fella though, he can't imagine not being seen by anyone who wasn't terrified out of their minds. It probably did things to you.

'Soldiers die scared,' he answers simply, his eyes locked on Pitch's, steady. He doesn't look away, but he does blink, unruffled, searching the entity for some reaction. When the worst has already happened, there's very little fear left, if any at all.

WRY ON TDM WRY?! /rubs face on thread and lays in floor

[isolophobia]

More than you know, Bucky. Though Pitch...doesn't actually blink. Not like who's tougher, or more manly or something, like he actually has no reflex. Or eyelashes. But he does have a third eyelid. Like a cat. Not showing that off, though, even if it is a species holdover from Kozmotis.

"Most do. fear of the unknown is a common denominator among the elder mortals. But the little ones believe that there is more to it than withered bodies giving out. They're afaid of me."

hideous laughter

[redactions]

No visible weakness. The hunter approves. The rest of him is still on the fence. (Or tree.)

'No little ones here, so you're goin' after adults?'

[isolophobia]

"I am starting to think the wings have something to do with it. But as I said; you are capable of eating without the promise of survival."

There will come a day when Pitch Black rises again in the world, because he's never really gone.

"You know, I used to scoff at the idea that children would be the key. Look what that got me."

[redactions]

'Kids're stronger than you think,' he retorts. 'What did you do?'

[isolophobia]

"Hid in closets and under beds. But mow I've learned my lesson and I'm going after adults."