we begin with an airing of grievances

[maskormods]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Considering apping into MASK OR MENACE? Want to dip your toes into the setting and get a feel of whether your character will fit into it? Or maybe you're just cruising and want to play around? Then you've come to the right place!

Pick any of the following scenarios below or feel free to make up your own, but don't be afraid to throw yourself at anyone's thread, either!

And remember to have fun!

01. Your memory is hazy and you might feel increasingly frustrated or anxious, or maybe you're excited as soldiers march past, barely glimpsing you. One second you're somewhere underground, the next you're enveloped in blue light, and suddenly you find yourself directly under Flordia sun's bright and burning glare. A female soldier steps toward you with a wide smile on her face and directs you to a car, ready to debrief you. You realize you are not the only one, surrounded by equally confused or eager faces... and you're all sporting a digital tattoo on your wrist.

02. Welcome to Cape Canaveral, where the smell of the ocean is in the air and locals are more than pleased to see new imPorts roaming their streets. They wave, they cheer, they ask for pictures as politely as they can. The more inhuman you look, or if you're wearing a costume, the more likely locals are to approach. Hey, enjoy the moment! The popular malt shop is offering you a free drink if you need it.

03. The technology in this world is certainly something. The cars are clearly modeled after popular 50s cars, but they hover several feet above the ground as they drive down the street. There are digital jukeboxes in restaurants, motorcycles also hover through traffic, advertisements can be seen on a digital projector on the taller buildings. Even kids on skateboards appear to drift a safe ten feet off the ground while playing!

04. Wherever you are, you can hear the loud revving of an engine, distance at first before you finally see it: a hovercar bursting around the corner, going beyond the maximum speed limit and just barely making its sharp turn. It doesn't appear to be slowing down any time soon, not with two police cars trailing it... and uh oh. Those skateboarding kids don't have much time to get out of the way as the car comes speeding down the road. You've been brought here for a reason Hero — so you better act fast.

Comments

Asami Sato | The Legend of Korra

[standardization]

2

I—well—all right!

[By time the third small group of people approaches Asami, it's apparent to her that she won't be making it to the malt shop anytime soon. She sees it just beyond her, but the idea of walking away from these people seems ... well ... a little rude. Their enthusiasm is catching, and it reminds her of some of the happier travels she's had with Korra. Sure, Korra hadn't always been greeted with wide eyes and smiles, but there were some times where that was the case.

After all, not all people were caught up in politics. That seems to be the case here, too, as everyone around her appeared worry free.

Her arrival hinted that things were much different. What they told her, what they spelled out, made it clear that while she wasn't back in Republic City, it wasn't as if she had arrived to a place without its troubles.

She scribbles her name for one citizen before another extends a pad of paper and asks if she can fly.

To which she answers:]

In a biplane. Though I've heard they've very advanced here. [And, from what she's learned in her very short time since she's arrived, they aren't called biplanes, either.

The boy shakes his head and explains that it's a power. Asami's mind wanders, if ever so briefly, to Zaheer. But not long enough for anyone to notice.]

Maybe one of the other heroes here can. [She glances toward one that's passing her by now, and though she doesn't say it, or actively draw the said hero toward her, the look on her face, complete with a strained smile, seems to be beckoning them over.

She hopes they can fly.]

3

[With a little bit of convincing, Asami finally finds herself one of the automobiles so she can take a look at it. She buys it on a small loan, with the man agreeing to let her make up the rest of the money through the stipends and money she'll have from her place of employment. It'll take time, but her curiosity is too strong. And more importantly, she feels like these advanced Satomobiles may be the ticket to ingratiating herself in this world. They were what got her father started back home, after all.

She gets the car on the third day after she arrives, and she doesn't waste much time after she gets it home in opening it up to take a good look inside.

The look on her face says a lot. While some of it is obvious to her even without being familiar with all the components, other aspects are ... decidedly not. Her lips twist downward.]

I've got my work cut out for me. Who knew that the Satomobiles had so many changes ahead of them?

[After all, it might be ... very different inside that hood, but it's familiar enough that she can see the road to this.

Sort of.

She leans in to take a closer look.]

wildcard

[Anything else you might like!]

quiet screaming

[proavatar]

[Well, this hero can fly. And more importantly, she knows when a rescue is needed. She flies down and lands, spinning her glider closed. She glances over at Asami, smiles, and grabs her hand before turning to the adoring public.] Sorry everyone, important hero business. We've gotta go. [She sends a blast of air through the crowd to encourage them to move aside. Hopefully, they'll be too impressed at the superhero display to be offended. Then she glances back at Asami and tugs her forward.]

Come on, if we run, we can probably make it to the malt shop before they start asking for more demonstrations.

Kangmo Yang | White Christmas

[excitababble]

2

[ Kangmo's a pretty normal looking guy, and blends into the crowd easily. It means he's not getting a whole lot of waving or cheering, though a few people that notice how lost and confused he looks have stopped him to say a few kind, grateful words, and a free drink was put into his hand alongside an encouraging pat on the shoulder. This is such a jarring difference from what he just came from, that he's not sure how to handle it.

Kangmo smiles and nods for a good twenty minutes, before the crowds get to be overwhelming given the circumstances, and he's forced to find a nice spot in the shadows of a storefront. Making sure he's not in anyone's way, he slides down against the wall and sits on the ground, pulling his sleeve down so he can get a better look at the tattoo on his wrist. He's forced to put down his drink and cover it with his other hand to get enough shade for it to show up well enough for him to see.

He's gotten the rundown. He has his file and everything, but this hasn't started making any more sense to him than when he first woke up in this world. ]

3

[ As alarming as this world is, he will admit he's impressed by the technology. He's been watching kids drift by him in awe for several minutes, and the cars? They're just something else.

At one point when one is stopped at a red light, Kangmo gets daring enough to edge into the road, and wave one hand under the floating vehicle, just to make sure that it's really not touching the ground. ]

Wow... incredible.

[ The light turns green and several car horns start blaring at him. Kangmo gets the idea pretty quickly and stumbles backwards onto the sidewalks, hands up in front of him with his palms out in a defensive stance. A few drivers even roll down their window to offer him some less than friendly comments as they zoom by.

Well... it's nice to know that some things don't change, no matter what world you're on. ]

3

[quinque]

[ Suzuya's been watching. It's hard to watch when you stand out as much as he does, but he does and has been. He did the same thing the second he saw those cars, only the irritated civilians who tried to zoom by found their cars cleaved clean in half before they could get a dozen feet.

Kangmo obviously doesn't have the skill he has though, and it's kind of fun to see someone doing exactly what he did. ]

Whoaoa, did you die? Did you, did you? You almost got your head knocked off.

Thor / Marvel 616

[ofmyth]

03:
[There's the sound of thunder despite a clear sky.

Thor drops out of the sky onto the middle of the road. It's clear of traffic, and he makes his way to the sidewalk before any cars appear. He looks around to take his bearings, and heads for a small grocers.

About ten minutes later he comes out with a brown paper bag, out the top of which sticks some celery. Apparently even the gods need to buy groceries.]

[standardization]

The weather out here is very strange.

[Asami has been staring at the sky since that thunder occurred, and she continued doing that. After all, she expected more to follow, only it didn't. When the large man leaves the store, it's when she speaks the words to herself.

Only she also realizes less than a beat later that it sounds like she was speaking to him.]

—Ah, sorry. You caught me talking to myself.

felicity smoak . arrow

[reabled]

( 3 )

[ It's ... It's like stepping into Tomorrow Land. Except backwards- or forwards. And not the Disney kind, either. The whizzing hovercars, hoverboards, hoverbikes-- and not just hovering a few inches off the ground, but really up there, too. It's the bright lights that aren't liquid crystal or anything else she can really think of- nothing that actually exists yet. Holographic images, maybe, they weren't so out of the blue, but that scale and that quantity?

Oh this little blonde looks like she just stepped into Christmas. Land. The one from the movie, where everything is bright and merry and oh god. Nevermind that she's just wandered out into a city that is absolutely not Starling. Who cares that she's got nothing on her person beyond her cellphone, a pair of stiletto heels and a -- wait, wait. They said something about a network here, hadn't they?

Because if she can find a little coffee shop with outdoor seating, she's going to plunk herself down and try to take this entire little communication device apart, if at all possible. Bits and pieces of the device lay strewn about table she's at, circle formed around an iced coffee and should anyone ask; ]

No, it's fine- I've switched the SIM into my own phone. Or the equivalent of the SIM card, here. It's not really a SIM card. More of a hyped up SanDisk with some sort of booster.

[ She should probably look up from what she's doing, shouldn't she? ]

SUP ELY it's fey

[grinninggrifter]

And that's all very interesting, I'm sure.

[If she hopes to look up, then she will see one Thomas Evans, looking down at the mess on the table with a faintly bemused expression. He looks as if he would prefer being thought of as terribly intelligent and in possession of all his wits, but he has utterly no idea what just came out of her mouth.]

But, Miss, your technology is really none of my business. I'm a little more concerned with the mob of cameras being sent our way.

[He grins at her briefly, little more than a flash of white teeth, and nods over to where the imPort-hungry paparazzi is making their way through the crowd.]

If you don't feel like being accosted, you may want to pack up your things sooner rather than later.

illumi zoldyck | hunter x hunter

[clickhum]

02
[Unlike other newcomers who might actually be experiencing an emotion right about now, Illumi is decidedly not. He's the one with a look of icy indifference on, and can clearly not be bothered with any of the proceedings beyond half-listening. He doesn't care for debriefing, he doesn't care for the crowds, he sort of cares for the free malt but not really—

The tattoo, on the other hand, seems to baffle him - inasmuch as he stares at his wrist for a solid minute or so when he notices it, blankly. Why... put this on him... He's already not a big fan.

So, what better to do than cover it up? Out of a pocket or somewhere he produces a needle topped with a tiny gold ball and, without any pretense, sticks it into his wrist. He holds it there a moment, then slides it in up to the gold end, on a slant down his arm so that the whole length can get in. The tattoo, for the observant, clouds over as if something is covering it—and it's "gone." For however long that will last, with its unique makeup.]

... Better. [he says to himself, flexing his fingers briefly. Then, without looking up, to anyone who's chosen to watch this... display,] Do you always stare?


03
[To be quite frank, Illumi stole this hovercar. He saw a thing he wanted and took it, and if the actual owner futilely trying to chase him on foot down the street behind him is not attention-grabbing enough, well—

He is a fantastically reckless driver. So much that after definitely nearly clipping a pedestrian, he makes a sudden turn into a shopping mall parking lot with enough speed to send the car spinning almost 90 degrees as he slams it to a stop. At least he can't leave tire tracks with a hovercar... right.

And then he gets out, like this is perfectly normal, and maybe now he'll do some shopping.]


wildcard
[idk would you like something weirder]

3 obviously

[gonstop]

[Usually Killua didn't pay much attention to traffic. He was on his hoverboard now, floating along with his hands in his pockets, listening to music on his brand new mp3 player. Just a little errand running before he headed back home, since he's been ditching class lately, but all of a sudden, he feels a presence coming in from the side, and--]

Whoa!!

[Has to perform a pretty rad trick on his hoverboard to jump up, grab it under an arm and kick off the wall to land a few feet away. Sweet, right?? He might have stopped to admire it himself if he weren't now frozen in spot staring at the figure coming out of that car.

That hair, and then those eyes--]

B-big brother?!

[YOU ALMOST RAN HIM OVER... WITH A FLOATING CAR?]

Bartimaeus | The Bartimaeus Series

[footnoting]

2

[If there's one thing Bartimaeus likes better than the freedom that comes with entering a world with no charge hanging over his head, it's the fact that - by simply walking down the street - he can earn himself compliments.

So it is that the malt shop seems to be gathering quite the crowd around one of its tables. Because sitting regally on top of the table is a sleek, regal cat with pure white and glistening wings stretching from its back. It's paws are ringed in gold, a necklace with glistening jewels sits around its neck, and its eyes even seem to glow a faint white.

Said winged cat also seems to be telling people their fortunes. Kind of.]

Yes, yes, you er-- will have a long and fruitful life filled with many well endowed beauties so long as- hold on, there. So long as you remain generous to those who- well, yes. I'll take a coin but I was actually thinking more along the line of verbal recogni-- yes I'm sure of the endowment of your future prospects who's next?

3

[Technology and djinni don't get along. They never had and they never would. Which is why, after a day of flying about and finding his essence recoiling in discomfort from all the technology zipping about this world, Bartimaeus has found himself falling back on a tried and true coping mechanism.

Vandalism.

So those shining, bright advertisements pasted boldly up on the sides of buildings? Well, there's a particular block in Heropa that seems to have become a bit of a target. The entire line of advertisements have some astonishingly well-drawn¹ ah- well.

Let's just say the works of art now covering up most of the street's posters aren't entirely family friendly and leave it at that.

At the end of the block, however, there is what appears to be an oversized hummingbird hovering in front of a poster, a bucket of paint clutched in one talon and a dripping paintbrush in the other.]





¹ Anatomically correct, of course. Can't have developing minds come away with any misconceptions of what's actually out there.

3

[deadtective]

[Hazel honestly doesn't even really register the x-rated additions to the posters she's passing by as she walks down the street. she'd had to dive deep into so many seedy locations back at home that it would take someone else pointing it out for her to realize they were even there. the dicks all tend to blend together after a certain point.

what she does notice immediately is the gigantic hummingbird attempting to be the next Monet at the corner. her mind immediately jumps to the worst assumption (that this must be supernatural because why wouldn't it be) and reacts in the most rational and level-headed manner possible.

she swings her bag at the damn thing with as much force as a girl of her size can muster.]

Lorne Malvo // Fargo

[outcomer]

[Odd fellow, this one. Overdressed for the Florida weather in several layers of black wool and fur, he somehow manages to appear lanky despite the bulk of his clothes. His haircut is downright dorky, an almost-bowlcut that looks better suited to a seven-year-old than to this fifty-something old man. It's the little things about him that set him apart. There's nothing obviously otherworldly about him, yet he doesn't belong in this picture.

The dark and peculiar stranger happens to be seated at the bar of the malt shop, enjoying a piece of apple pie and pointedly ignoring the looks he's getting from the locals. They are, thus far, entirely uninteresting to him. As he raises a forkful of glazed apple to his mouth, his eyes scan the crowd for someone who might prove more entertaining. Someone more like him, maybe: an outsider.]

[friendshiprocks]

[ yeah, you're not getting an outsider, you're getting a teenage girl. a teenage girl who's noticed that he has apple pie and what the heck, she wants some herself. the desire of sweets is outweighing stranger danger as Hime walks straight up to him, eyes on the pie. ]

Hey, where'd you get that? Do they have any more?

Hazel Lockwood | OC

[deadtective]

two;

[Hazel is in an awkward in-between spot with the locals - she looks unobtrusive enough...except for the angry black stitches covering most of her visible skin. she keeps insisting that she isn't an imPort, she was just recently in an accident, but the fidgety way she delivers the excuse isn't exactly convincing. what a time to be a poor liar.

at some point she grows tired of being repeatedly hounded while trying to figure out just what the hell she should be doing with herself right now. with a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, she points randomly - right at your character.]

Hey, why don't you ask them? I'm sure an actual hero could give you a better answer.

[did you want that attention? too bad, you're getting it. if you want to chew Hazel out you better move quickly, because as soon as the people turn their backs she's trying to slink away.]

four;

[oh no. oh, no. Hazel doesn't want anything to do with this, but a quick glance around confirms that no one else seems inclined to do much more than watch with horror. no matter how little she wants to be involved, there's no way that she can allow someone else to die.

and so she darts out into the street, small figure a comical contrast to the oncoming hovercar. she shoves the children out of the way, but there's no time to get herself to safety as well. the car rams into her with an unpleasantly organic thud, throwing her back and into a lamppost.

her body ragdolls and lays still for a few moments...and then she's making to get up again, apparently no worse for wear from the fatal impact. the only concern she seems to have is if anyone saw and understood what just happened, from the way she's frantically scanning to see how much attention has been pushed onto her.]


[or throw something else at me, I'm up for everything]

four;

[functionoverfeels]

[LMN-001—no, Quake Woman—does happen to see that accident, and she is now rushing towards the lamppost. halfway into her run, she sees the victim get up, but does not slow her approach. once she gets there, she speaks with a very clinical sort of concern.]

Are you damaged?

[she is currently outside of her human disguise, which would likely belie her true nature when coupled with the fact that she does not seem out of breath. what, then, is the true nature of this person?]

Calvin Zabo // Agents of SHIELD

[destabilized]

No, but - There must be some mistake!

[He looks harmless enough, this old man who's wringing his hands and pleading with the officials who're trying to usher him away from the arrival area and over to the car that awaits him, like so many other freshly-summoned imPorts. He's heard what they've said - what they keep saying - but he doesn't care. He can't be in another world. Not now, not without his daughter. He can't abandon her there, in some entirely different universe.]

Please... You've got to send me back. There's something I have to - I can't just leave, do you understand? She needs me!

[He's asking so nicely. Why don't they listen? A sheen of sweat coats his face as he talks, stumbling over the words now as he struggles to make them understand. Finally, he lashes out at one of them, his hand shooting up to seize the nearest officer by the throat.]

[hackitude]

[Meanwhile, Skye's exiting the government building today for an entirely different reason-- coming in to lend her technical expertise on a military-related case, the answer ended up being really very simple. So she's walking out feeling like a job well done when she spots the situation. Ah, is it that time already again?

She approaches with caution, one hand out, one hand behind her. (Spoilers: it's on her gun, but she keeps that side of her body turned away and out of view.)]

Hey. Hey, it's gonna be all right. You're new here, right? What's your name?

[She keeps her voice calm and level, asking questions to get his attention elsewhere like she was taught.

She looks different to how Cal might remember her. Hair longer, no bangs. More like in the photo that Raina showed him. Most importantly, though, is that there's no flash of recognition in her eyes.]

Auron | Final Fantasy X

[sinfulpast]

two;

[sitting at an outside table of a cafe with an ocean view is a man who very clearly does not belong here; he seems more suited to a samurai film, what with his crimson robes and arm tucked up in its sleeve like a sling. there's no order on the table before him, as it seems that Auron is far more interested in watching the people who pass by than refreshments.

he stares at the passersby with an acuteness that seems out of place with his apathetic posture. should someone catch on to the scrutiny, he holds their gaze steadily and without shame. it's difficult to tell if he's searching for someone or simply sizing up the population.

either way, his conspicuous appearance draws more than a few locals over to question him. Auron completely ignores them all, uncaring of how rude that is or how upset some of them become. the only exception is children, to whom he gives a brief (but not unkind) answer to their implication that he's a hero.]

You should be more discerning in who you choose to believe are heroes.

three;

[this world reminds him of Zanarkand in the most frustrating way possible - too many people and too much technology that he can't work. Auron doesn't have the religious terror that had haunted his first few months in the dream city to contend with here, but it's a pathetic consolation prize. he'd been, perhaps stupidly given his luck, hoping that his return to Spira would mark the end of his machina troubles.

currently he's struggling with taking money out of an ATM - it's a rather comical sight, watching this stoic man repeatedly press the wrong buttons and enter the wrong passcodes. as if he didn't stand out enough already.

during his valiant battle a teenager pulls up to the empty machine next to his on a hoverboard. in the span of five minutes he's deposited his paycheck from work, withdrawn some spending money, and transferred some cash to a different account to avoid being hit with fees, all while the music from his headphones blast out into the open air. Auron watches as he glides away, popping a wheelie on his board as he goes.

he can't help but let out a low chuckle. ah, this truly was like being back in Zanarkand.]

wildcard;

[OR HIT ME WITH ANYTHING I'M NOT PICKY]

2

[ahappyending]

[And the slim young woman next to him rolls her eyes.] Oh, come on, be more dour.

Heroes are who people make them.

Nepeta Leijon | Homestuck

[shipper]

one;

[Nepeta's arrival immediately begins on the wrong foot - not only does she stumble out with the head wound that had been inflicted on her immediately before being lifted into another universe, but the memories of the last time this had happen come flooding back and start jumbling to the point where she's not really certain she could tell anyone which death this injury must have caused.

thankfully no one is asking her much of anything right now. medics latch onto her almost immediately and she finds herself sitting and watching the other non-incapacitated arrivals passing by her with an expression that is somehow dull from pain and desperately sharp all at once. the chatter of the people attending to her register only vaguely - the Porter has mitigated her wound to the point it only requires proper bandaging and pain medication, apparently, but she doesn't care much about that.]

Did anyone else come with me? I need to find them right away.

[it's impossible to tell if she's asking the government officials or the imPorts passing by her, but either way it's difficult to miss Nepeta - her appearance is obviously alien, and the blood they're sponging off her scalp is green.]

two;

[she's feeling a little better now, a bit less depressed and her head neatly bandaged up and not aching for the moment. the city and its excessive sun stings her nocturnal eyes a little, but she's content enough to shade them with a hand and wander through the city. she'll try the communicator and the government housing soon, but first she wants to see if she can locate any of her friends on her own.

her mission is temporarily sidetracked as she passes the malt shop. the lure of free sweet anything is too much to resist, even now (perhaps especially now), and so Nepeta finds herself slurping down a malt and kicking her dangling legs off a stool in record time. yeah, this was helping a lot.

she's very obviously not of this world, and that attracts its fair share of stares. after draining half the glass in a single gulp, she turns to meet the gaze of one of the culprits (or what she thinks is one, anyway) head on. a little of her usual playful spark jumps back into her expression and words.]

What's the matter, haven't you efur seen an alien befur?

wildcard;

[come at me with your own scenario! I'm down for it.]

two.

[glowsferatu]

[ a bright flash comes from near the door no sooner than the words leave nepeta's lips, preceded by a thump.

it's the voice that caught kanaya's attention, that sunk a dread so quickly into the pit of her stomach that she feels like her legs will collapse underneath her. she thought she would never hear that voice again, and in some selfish, scared part of her mind, perhaps hoped she wouldn't.

she can't hold it in, the gasp she lets out when she hears it, the feeling of panic. she comes here every now and then at the beginning of the month to give newcomers the basics, but now she wishes she were anywhere else. not that she can move, her legs frozen in place. she loses grip on her purse, a thump as it hits the ground. but that isn't all she loses grip on, as the flood of emotion and memory wells in her chest, and her human form becomes too much for her to maintain.

it's with the flash that she changes, as she always does, but pulling her glow back in is beyond her capacity now. so she just blazes brightly in the doorway, tears welling in her eyes as she looks at nepeta like she's seen the proverbial ghost. ]

EDI || Mass Effect

[mobilityassistance]

2

[The attention is strange, and had she been human she might have been confused. As it is, it's odd enough and disentangling herself has so far proven to be somewhat close to impossible and doesn't look like it will get any easier. She's even signed a few things--more for her own amusement than anything. Some of the confused looks she receives from admirers reading "Enhanced Defense Intelligence" are similar to the looks the Normandy crew would give her when she tried to make a joke.

She isn't making many jokes at the moment, though. This is one of those times when she's supposed to be polite, and at least she recognizes that perhaps her particular quirks of humor likely wouldn't be appreciated. At least she isn't scaring the townsfolk.

Still, she isn't making much progress toward where she needs to be due to the throngs of people, and, this being polite company, she's a little strapped for options to escape the crowd, when she spots a potential rescuer and tries to make eye contact. Hopefully they'd notice.]

[justimom]

[ The attention was something that Samara had begun to grow accustomed to in this place. A minute sense of annoyance replaced the minor sense of unease that had once accompanied the stares and whispers she received as she moved through crowds. Perhaps that was why she met the eyes of the individual that had found herself trapped in a crowd. She could relate to that and she could also recall her own entry into this place and how she had searched for some sort of escape without resorting to more forceful measures.

The Justicar moved closer to the group of people, still maintaining eye contact with the metal woman. ]

It would be a wise choice for you all to begin dispersing now. [ Her voice was calm and but held a degree of firmness that suggested it was more than just a suggestion. ] It would be a shame for any to lose patience with being cornered in such a way.

Kinna Nananea | OC

[xenophiliac]

2

[Oh, she loves it here. How could she not? The heat, the wonderful, omnipresent heat that pressed down on her shoulders like a lead weight every time she stepped out onto the street. The scent of salt, of a vast ocean just beyond the street she meandered down.

And above all, the humans. Oh, yes, she loves the humans, their curious gazes, their inevitable questions. She stands just outside a shop for what feels like an hour, explaining her species and status and intentions to a handful of interested civilians.

She's easy to spot, really. All six foot seven of her, red skin and pink hair, four hands gesticulating wildly as she rambles on to whoever would listen to her. Though talking to only humans is becoming a bit dull, she's starting to realize. One of her two pairs of eyes are busy scanning the sidewalk just past the interested crowd around her, on the look out for anyone who might appear out of the ordinary. Just like her.]


Wildcard
[She's a weird-ass alien wandering around human cities and probably making a scene wherever she goes. Take that whereever you want it to go.]

[showtunes]

[ hal doesn't appear out of the ordinary at all. white, middling in height, brown hair and eyes, his clothing simple and black in a way that speaks to preferring plainness rather than any attempt to be "cool". he's practically the epitome of an ordinary member of homo sapiens sapiens. ]

[ except for how, as she passes behind him, he snaps around to look at her. there's no doubt in his mind that this strange creature is the source of the scent that seemed to grab him by the nostrils. it's not the stink of a werewolf, but it's not the succulent call of living people, either. it doesn't rouse his hunger, just his curiosity. ]

[ however in addition to being ordinary, hal is excruciatingly british, and he approaches nananea with a stilted politeness worthy of that great fictional befriender of aliens, arthur dent. ]

Excuse me,

[ he says, to get her attention, and then stalls. what does he even say? did you know you look completely different to every other person here? it seems a bit impolite. ]

John | John Dies at the End

[nakedandvulnerable]

(two)

[On the scale of Weird Shit this doesn't even rate past a 3. It's another dimension, sure, but nobody's riding giant spiders and not a single cult member has tried to kill him yet. And it's already ten in the morning! With the added bonus of a free drink this is turning into a great goddamn day.

So as he leans lazily against the side of the malt shop, John raises his glass to no one in particular.] Oh, I'm gonna milk this hero thing for all it's worth.

[And then he smiles, terribly proud of his terrible pun.]

(wildcard)

[OR WHATEVER]

[bitemythumb]

[The pun doesn't seem to land with this particular audience. The teenager who bursts out of the malt shop cursing and gasping for air ignores it altogether and leans on the wall under the awning beside John.

He doubles up and breathes hard, trying to get some oxygen into his lungs. He'd look nearly as though he belonged there in his brightly colored shirt and flopping shoes from a shop down the street, if it weren't for the breeches that have clearly come from another time and the startled, confused expression on his face.

Eventually he notices the man with the milk, however. It's a bit of a luxury at home, so it's strange to think that they're giving it away in this place for free. Eren stares for a moment, quietly taking it in, the gasping already calmed down to panting.]

They think you're a hero, too?

The Last Dragonborn (technically an OC...?)| TES V: Skyrim

[everydayimdovahkiin]

{ooc; this journal is still a hot mess in progress lol, plz forgive}

2. NORD AT THE BEACH this wont go well

[Among all the crowds is someone who is definitely either an imPort or a LARPer- and if he's a LARPer, than he's definitely gone completely overboard on getting in character. His hair is long, blonde, and mostly unwashed, with the stubble from a couple days speckled all over his jaw. A bright red gash of war-paint streaks over his left eye, slightly obscuring the ragged, aged scars from what looks like some sort of animal attack.

Also, he's dressed entirely in furs and plate mail- A dark steel, with several wolf-styled embellishments along the edge, and black furs hanging down about his thighs in what almost appears to be a kilt or skirt. Add in the battle-axe strapped to his back and the red cloak and, well-

Asvaldr definitely isn't from around here. And if you get close enough? Sorry, but he smells fairly strongly of wet dog and dirt and horse and sweat and god-knows-what else. Someone here is fresh off the porter.

Which means it's a great time to stare at the frozen shake offered to him at one of the shops, as though the sheer marvel of appearing in this new plane hasn't worn off.] -And it stays cold? By some sort of... magicks, then?

[HE DOESN'T SOUND SURE, but he accepts the malt anyway, disregards the straw sticking out of it, and starts attempting to slurp down the thick milkshake.]

4. GOTTA SAVE THEM KIDS

[One of those massive automatons is careening towards civilians, and Asvaldr certainly won't just let it happen. Within the steel-and-fur gauntlets, his hands clench, and his whole body braces. He has to act now. A deep inhale, and then:]

Fus- RoDAH!!

[A massive force slams into the car (and the police cars) and sends them rolling onto their sides and skidding across the asphalt a considerable distance, having been shouted away before hitting either of the skateboarding children. In every direction, car alarms are going off due to the sheer force and volume of the Nord's shout-- and in the other lane of traffic, another car couldn't stop in time before crashing right into the now-upside-down vehicle.

The pile-up is just getting larger. Children are crying. The car alarms won't stop going off. And standing in the middle of it all, looking absolutely perplexed, is a rather tall man wearing goddamned armor with a massive battle-axe strapped to his back, looking like he has no idea what to do now- and wincing slightly at each crunch of metal.

someone halp.]

[ANYTHING ELSE]

[srsly anything else is coo'. hit me up.]

4

[valr]

[Oh for Odin's sake.

Normally Kara would ignore this sort of commotion, but the armour and axe and embellishments are familiar enough that she feels like she... needs to do something, out of a sense of solidarity. She can't imagine being dragged into the future if she hadn't had time to grow alongside the world. It would leave her as lost and floundering as this man is, and if he's as Norse as he looks, then she needs to help as much as she can.

So all five foot four of Kara, with her heavy boots, leather short-shorts and a too-big t-shirt, strides up to the man.]

Walk with me, vinr.

[It's a shot in the dark; the familiarity of the man's clothing and weapons could mean nothing, but maybe, just maybe, he'll know the word for friend.]

Marceline Abadeer | Adventure Time

[bassriff]

2

[Well, she definitely wasn't in Ooo anymore. This city was interesting, but not much like what little she remembered from before the war. A lot of the architecture looked like the abandoned or wrecked buildings from after the fact, though. Different Earths...man, that was gonna take some getting used to.

All she'd wanted was to get to the malt shop and grab something red. It'd been a long day even before she got here, after that biz with the Door Lord. The thirst was starting to rise, as if the heat wasn't bad enough. The sunhat and long gloves she was wearing on arrival offered more than enough protection, but it still hurt to be out on a day like this.

So, of course, she found herself slowed down almost constantly. After the third or fourth group of locals accosted her, she was close to snapping. Can't a girl go about her business?]

Yeah, I can fly - what kind of question is that, dude, I'm doing it right now! No, I'm not gonna take off the hat, I need it to - ugh. Look, sorry, I gotta keep moving. You've been great, ok? [She hands her signature - stylized and marked with a two-headed ax - back to one of the people who'd approached her. From there, she ignores any protest or disappointment they throw at her, floating up a little further and flying further on to the shop. Marceline touches down, finally, stepping inside.

She tries to ignore any curious looks she might get from locals, adjusting the strap on her bass and heading for a bend of the bar that looks like it has less direct sunlight on it.]

Something red, I don't care what. A raspberry malt'd be ok. [The person behind the counter nods. Finally, something's going right. She glances to a person sitting next to her, noticing they don't strike as being from around here. Blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face - ]

Are the locals always doing the groupie routine? 'Cause, man, that's gonna get old pretty fast.

3

[Marcy's always been good with computers. A lot of tech made it through the centuries, and Ooo's made a lot of advancements of its own - it wouldn't do to fall behind. Still, the technology here isn't quite like anything she's used to. A lot of it's recognizable, sure, but the details were the real surprise. Once the sun's down, she feels a lot better about heading to check out Canaveral.]

Man, this is cool. [Yeah, there's a floating girl with grey skin chilling near a crossing, watching a holographic ad flash across a nearby skyscraper. She seems pretty enthralled.]

wildcard

[HIT ME]

2

[functionoverfeels]

[LMN-001, as her serial number is the only thing that seems familiar right now, is taking the time to cope with some of her own problems. she has seen people enter malt shops before in archival footage, but she has never felt a need to patronize one. but this, among other things, is something she will have to reconcile on her own time. a woman has begun speaking to her.]

You were hovering outside. That may have contributed to it.

[she responds with almost mechanical detachment. LMN-001 appears to be a human at this point, but given Doc—her mother had not yet made time to code additional plainclothes forms, her green bathrobe tied with a purple bow may betray her own attempts at blending in. she has additionally not ordered anything.]

Josuka Higashikata | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure | 3

[unbreaker]

[Here's a question.

You find yourself transported to another world (presumably) where you're told upon your arrival that you're expected to pull off some crazy ass heroics for the sake of helping perfect strangers. No big deal, right? That's the kind of thing you did back home all the time, and you did it out of the goodness of your heart, too. Unless...you were doing it because somebody was stupid enough to insult your hair. You get handed a folder that's got a load of information on you inside (how they learned about the fever you got when you were four years old, the stranger who helped your mom get her car out of the snowbank, your Stand, or your complicated-as-all-get-out family tree is anyone's guess) and you're sent on your way, turned loose after being tagged like some kinda puppy about to get a really vigorous run in a huge dog park.

What do you do?

1. Park your ass down like a good little soldier boy and prepare to read your file and get to work?

Or...

2. Hop on the chance to milk your new found fame for all it's worth, collect freebies, and try your hand (or feet) at ACTUAL HOVEROARDING?

The answer's obvious, of course.

Now...if only figuring out how to maneuver a hoverboard was just as simple!]

hello bro

[goldenlegacy]

[Well, really, who wants to sit down and read their file? Admittedly, Giorno did it, because he's that sort of person. And admittedly he'd probably look oddly at anyone who didn't... which is why he's looking oddly at Josuke now.]

[It's the exuberance with which the fellow (about his age but, annoyingly, much taller) makes his attempts with that hoverboard that give him away. No native looks that enthralled by what is, to them, an absolutely routine piece of technology. And, given that Giorno has never seen this person around, either in person or on the network, it's not hard to discern that he must be Very New.]

[So, the question is... how new?]

If you try it that way, it's going to turn over.

[His voice is a bit bland, and so is his expression.]

You're new, I assume?

Satsuki Kiryuin ✨ Kill la Kill

[disrobes]

04.

How reckless.

[The click of Satsuki's heel from the sidewalk onto the asphalt of the street is somehow resounding, and she steps between the children and the oncoming vehicle, tugging at the sleeve of her uniform. The white fabric slips free of its stitches and spirals into the form of a blade with the snap of her wrist as she takes a single step forward.

The next motion is a swift downward slice with the makeshift blade accompanied by a sharp exhale of breath, and for a split second there's silence, then-

CRASH.

Straightening, Satsuki sets the fabric onto her arm once more, where it reshapes into her sleeve, and she stares at the section of road she'd cracked into the path of the oncoming vehicle, a particularly large, jagged portion holding it above the ground and in place, wheels still spinning. She turns then, ignoring most of the awed stares, and stares down at the children she'd saved with a severe expression on her face.]

Take more care where you play.

[Cowed and awed in equal measure, they nod mutely, and Satsuki nods, striding past, pushing some of her hair carefully from her face.

Fighting with such short hair would take some getting used to, still.]



Wildcard.

[Hit me with anything!]

[ahanalyzing]

[Powers were such a strange concept. She's curious on a scientific level about the whole thing, but she hadn't seen anything like that back home, least of all that a human (seemingly? Another topic of note, things aren't always human here, despite appearances) would be capable of. Her plans for omnicidal planetary destruction aside, Courtney just starts walking alongside Satsuki as if they're completely familiar with one another, hands behind her back. More mundane curiosities would be better pursued for now.]

You. ...interesting. You did the thing... ...clothes. Very strong. Aha. ♪ How?

tauriel | the hobbit

[avorn]

( 02 )

[ It's one thing to wake up somewhere unfamiliar, but it's something else entirely when it's a completely different world. A whole other universe that you've never heard of, even in the tales of fancy you heard growing up. It was strange and alien, and while one could consider themselves adaptable... There came a point where things could turn overwhelming.

As if stepping through the blue light hadn't been enough, worrying her that perhaps she'd passed on to the Distant Shores. The vehicle had been unsettling enough (though highly interesting, if she were honest), and then to be suddenly thrust into a world of Man? Where they wore strange clothes in even stranger colors, had no sense of manners, formality or personal space- Asked for her image again and again and though she never quite refused them, she never really agreed, either.

Even the buildings worried her, made of stone and metal and glass of likes she'd never seen, brighter lights that shone without flame and machines as she'd heard, that flew through the air like spirits, loud and incredible and though she'd not admit, a bit frightening.

She thought briefly of undoing her hair, hiding her pointed ears from sight as they seemed to be her most drawing aspect-- a thought quashed almost as soon as it came; she would not hide herself unless absolutely necessary. At least escaping the growing crowds was simple, skirting into the shadows and back streets of the city, occasionally running into another group of people- but the city was laid out like no other one she'd seen, and getting lost was more of a possibility than she was willing to outwardly admit.

So whether you find the elven woman surrounded by flocks of 'fans', looking as uncomfortable as one could- not just by the situation, but wholly unable to understand half of what was being said--

or you find her on her lonesome, occasionally stopped to stare into the windows of a shop, trying in silent vain to understand whatever it was she looked upon.

Perhaps you find her seeking green, woods or trees of any kind; a park, to where she might escape the heavy heat- though she looked rather unbothered for someone dressed to the throat in suede and leather. ]

[somethingheroic]

[ While Peter may be enjoying his new popularity, he's fully capable of recognizing that some people aren't. He catches sight of the elven woman clearly not having a great time at the center of a bunch of imPort groupies and makes his way over, politely but firmly moving through the group until he's close enough to Tauriel to grab the attention of her adoring fans. ]

Hey guys! Thanks, really, for the welcome. You're all great, but we've got hero stuff to do— [ He winks at the elf and gestures out and away from all the fans. ] And we've really gotta get going.

[ And with a grin to the crowd he heads out, gesturing for Tauriel to follow until they've made their way to a (relatively) deserted and quiet spot. ]

These locals are pretty intense, huh.

Traci Thirteen | DC Comics

[booyahh]

[ 02 ]

[ Traci was not happy. Not at all. This was not going to work for her. Alternate dimensions never worked out well, that lesson had been hammered home recently. She let out a really exasperated sigh as she looked around for somewhere less crowded to try some sort of spell. Teleportation was still kind of new for her, but she could do this. She had this.

Totally.

It started with a simple wiggling of her fingers and then pink energy spiked around her hands. ]

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe home I really want to go!

[ And…well, she succeeded in teleporting, just not very far and definitely not home. The spell sent her directly to the front of the crowded malt shop with its offer of free drinks. ]

Haha very funny. Third best cosmic joke I've encountered all year.

[ And now to make matters worse she was talking to herself. She sighed again and then nodded when the attended offered her a drink, completely ignoring the stares and gasps that her sudden teleportation had caused to locals around. Might as well take the freebie she was offered while she worked on figuring out how to get home. Right? ]

[khajidont]

[If Jaime's used to anything by now, it's the crowds. Traci may not see him moving through the mass of people, because he's gotten very, very good at being a small, unobtrusive figure, just another kid milling around the downtown area, trying to do god knows what. He keeps his head down and his hands firmly shoved in his pockets - specifically to hide that pesky imPort tattoo - and shoulders his way through...

...up until he hears a very familiar, very welcome voice. His head shoots up, and he immediately shoves his way through anyone between them ("'scuse me, pardon me, coming through, whoa, sorry, in a hurry here!") and says, voice bright,] Traci?

[Oh please, please be from his universe, please don't look at him like some sort of stranger, or else he'll --

Well, he'll deal with it, but he'll be pretty choked.]

hiccup horrendous haddock iii ☁ how to train your dragon

[flightsuit]

02;

[Hiccup knows the ocean far too well, the memories of living on a small isolated island hard to forget, especially after years of soaring right above those glistening waves for years. But this isn't the ocean he knows, that salty scent a thousand times more overwhelming than he remembers. He's never even been this warm, not so naturally anyway, wondering how he could be sweating this much in his flight suit when he wasn't even near a forge.

But the smell and temperature's the last thing he could be thinking about when he's running from a swarm of people following behind him shouting: Is that a dragon!? The large, black Night Fury rushes beside him as they race through the streets, doing their best not to get run over (are those carriages floating???). Normally, they'd just fly off, but with the speed of their pursuers and the crowded environment they've become surrounded with, there's barely even enough time to adjust his prosthetic leg to the proper saddle hook settings.

So instead they simply run as fast they can, hoping to somehow escape their stampede of fans (still odd in Hiccup's eyes when their entrance usually casuses folks to run the other way) and avoid crashing into anything along their path.]

03;

[He was always a kid far ahead of his time, stepping outside the box way too often as far as Vikings were concerned, but even an innovative guy like Hiccup would be out of place in a world that's about a thousand years ahead of his actual lifestyle.

He never makes it anywhere indoors, not for now while he has a giant dragon trailing close behind him, but he peeks through windows and gazes out to the streets as he ventures through the city, already astounded with just how tall all these buildings are. What really captures his eyes are those strange carriages that seem to glide on their own along the roads. Using dragons to fly was insane enough for his time, and he was even curious enough to try making a flight suit to glide on his own through the air, but actual contraptions that fly completely on their own? Impossible.

Still, while his curious dragon friend sniffs through trash bins in pursuit at the smell of food, Hiccup tries to get a closer peek at one of the cars, hoping to get some sort of idea as to how they work.]

wildcard;

[A one-legged Viking and his dragon are wandering through the city, lost and confused. Have at it.]

obligatory viking oc; and going for a wildcard

[valr]

[It's been an incredibly long time since Kara has seen dragons in the air; most of them are dead, slain by "heroes" with too much time on their hands, before humans forgot that things like dragons existed.

But there's one in the air over Florida.

Kara watches it for a moment, curious, since it doesn't seem inclined towards burning anyone to death, which means it must be intelligent enough to know better. So it - probably won't eat her, which is why she spreads her wings and heads up, slipping silently through the crowds until she can approach from behind, not wanting to face a dragon straight up in case it decide she's dinner.

And then she sees the rider, which explains a lot.]

Hey!

[She's only shouting to be heard above the wind, her white wings keeping her in the air as she angles herself closer.]

This ain't a good idea.

[Air traffic control is a thing, and while the government tends not to fuss too much about people flying, dragons are a lot bigger.]

aphrodite / hercxena

[halfdressed]

03.

[ Modern technology certainly is a wonderful thing, unless it happens to be one o'clock in the morning and an impromptu street party appears to have taken root for several blocks, which it really might have tonight in one of the cities you live in, oops. It's not a normal shindig, evidently, because everything is a bit more heated with people making out to within an inch of their life both on the fringes of establishments bursting with party-goers and amid the churning mass of bodies that passes for a dance-floor as far as the eye can see. The air is a little too warm, pleasantly so, yet dense at the same time if one is accustomed to the presence of gods dropping in. The whole area being affected smells like the roses which have started springing up here and there in bowers, and at the epicentre of the whole hub is the reason for all of it.

There definitely wasn't a Greek column in the middle of the street earlier today and nor was there a Goddess of Love (as everyone seems to be unassumingly accustomed to answering if asked who she is) dancing atop it in gauzy pink chiffon, all curves and rich golden hair and rosy lips stretched wide over a gleeful smile. Her effect is potent, yet not overbearing ... until someone annoys her, now and then, at which point she does come off trigger-happy with pink shots of magic sending those who complain either A) smooching the nearest lamppost, B) desperately chasing after a friend while besotted, or C) stripping off and praising her name.

This is what happens when Ancient Greece meets Schnapps and dubstep with no filter. At the very least, this new imPort is a bubbly sort of mess on default and very, very welcoming. ]

[everydayimdovahkiin]

[By the Gods, he'd found a cult of Sanguine.

His own experience with the Prince of Hedonism and Debauchery had been innocuous enough, certainly. A night drinking followed by waking up in the temple of Dibella, being kicked out after fondling the breasts of the Goddess's statue- But the sheer heavy scent of sex and lust and alcohol leads the Dragonborn to believe that this could be nothing else.

And how sad is it, that a Daedric cult would be the most familiar thing to him in this strange land?

So he'll take a bottle of beer freely offered by a reveler, smashing the neck of it off on a low garden wall, as opposed to learning how to use a bottle opener or twisting off the top. Weaving between the drunk dancers or those in the throes of passion, it's easy to simply relax in the knowledge that for once, he thinks he understands what's happening here. (Out of all the Daedric princes to worship, he can understand Sanguine the most. Not agree, of course, he holds true to the nine divines. But Sanguine does know how to throw a party.)

Eventually he approaches the massive column, taking another heavy pull of the beer (watered down swill, but beer nonetheless) and calls up to the dancing woman.]

Are you the Priestess here? This gathering is impressive!

[And it is, really. The largest gathering of daedra worshippers he'd seen hadn't been nearly so big.]

katniss everdeen | the hunger games.

[ex_striking429]

o2.

[ there is a crowd of excited people cheering when they are tumbled unceremoniously from the government cars, relieved to see a new wave of imports. but while some people might mug for the camera or wave, offer cheery handshakes and autographs, katniss' face looks carved from stone. ]

[ the hubbub and the noise and the attention are as disorienting as they were the first time she was plunged into the capitol's excitement, but she's long since grown used to it. while she was never an innately dishonest person about her feelings, overexposure to celebrity means she's become used to ignoring or playing to a crowd depending on what's useful. and here and now? she has no interest in being a hero to these people, not when she was plucked from her family, her friends, her own revolution back home. she's furious, and unwilling, and she's not hesitant to show it. ]

[ so she ignores the shouts for her to smile for the camera, establishes that they're free to go, and walks quickly away from the others. avoiding crowds, putting distance between herself and other people, scanning the environment for food and a weapon: there are certain things that come naturally to katniss when she feels threatened. this isn't the hunger games — she learnt that quickly back at the base — but that doesn't mean there aren't rules and dangers. that's been true everywhere she's ever lived. and katniss isn't letting her guard down until she knows exactly what they are. ]

o4.

[ katniss is watching the children when it happens, because the little girl looks a lot like rue, which caught her attention. and it's sweet, watching the older sister help what must be her little brother onto the board, steadying it as he wobbles, and the fact of the hovering toy is interesting in and of itself, so she keeps watching for a couple of moments before looking away — ]

[ directly at the car barrelling towards them. ]

[ for a moment, she's frozen. then katniss throws herself bodily into the road. the scene slows down as adrenaline floods her system, everything gaining that familiar clarity as she strains her leg muscles to take her from zero to sixty. throwing one arm wide to gather up the children and shove them towards the side of the road. tires screech, and there's a sick smell of burning rubber in the air as the driver tries to slow or swerve, but too late. her other arm flings up, loose, palm splayed, like she can force the car to stop with her own willpower— ]

[ the car hits her body with a sickening crunch. ]

[ when she comes back to herself, she's in a pool of her own blood. her blurred vision resolves itself into the stopped car, turned halfway across the road, police surrounding it. there are other people around her, talking, shouting instructions from what sounds like far away. slowly, carefully, katniss pushes herself up onto one hand. the other comes up to swipe hair out of her face where it had come free of her braid. ]

I'm fine.

[ she sounds distant, still not really processing the fact, even as she can feel her broken bones finishing knitting themselves back together, the pool of blood around her shrinking rapidly as it puts itself back where it belongs. she waves away a helping hand. and when she pushes to her feet, people start to clap. ]

open.

[ open to any misc starters — housemate shenanigans, old event premises, new powers chats, day in the life stuff, etc. ]

04!!

[gritted]

That didn't look fine.

[ Only she can see the way the girl's body is putting itself back together, and Clarke backs away half a step, giving her space to stand. She thinks she hears a bone popping — back into place, hopefully — and casts a distracted glance around them as the crowds lining the sidewalks begin to clap.

Her gaze slides down toward the aftermath a moment later. The pavement's covered in blood. The girl isn't much better, and Clarke's eyes trace the streaks of red up her body to where it's made a mess of her hair. ]

You've lost a lot of blood. Come on, you should sit down.

[ As much as it sounds like a suggestion, she seems to think it'll be taken as an order. Clarke rests a hand on Katniss's arm, grip just firm enough to make it clear this isn't open for debate. ]

jack frost ❄ rise of the guardians

[icy]

01.

[ Commotion stirs when a blast of ice rockets up the side of a building, sweeping across the ground to enable a swift skater — on bare feet, no less — to slip through the cars and soldiers with a determined scowl. Having only just screwed up Easter, Jack is in no mood to play nice when the whole situation rattles him, and so after being told repeatedly to Drop the staff, he slams it into the ground and sends up a wave of frost to mask the way he bolts for it, half-parkouring and half-flying his way through the crowd.

Which is when he collides with someone. ]

04.

[ There's a dull boom as the car somersaults over the heads of the kids playing in the road, a blue streak ripping past them in full-flight to slow the vehicle down with a wealth of ice rising up in a frozen wave. Jack alights on the top of the car, inside which the joy-riders are yelping and complaining. He turns a glance on the children to make sure they're okay, spares a smile, and then startles as police start to turn up. Pitch, as it turns out, was right; You make a mess wherever you go.

He can be found, fifteen minutes later, idly pacing down a street a few blocks away, hood up and staff slung over his shoulder. Ignoring sirens. ]

4

[unbreaker]

[Josuke isn't entirely sure what to make of the scene as it unfolds. Nobody got hurt, not really, and that in itself is impressive, but the one responsible for the saving of those children didn't stick around, either. Not even for a "Thanks, mister!" from the kids themselves. The guy, in all his icy glory, just up and...left.

So Josuke follows.

He waits until they're both clear of the area before closing the distance, looking down at the smaller framed individual as he gently reaches out to tap a shoulder that looks almost alive with cold veins of frost. Strange, but...he's seen stranger.]

Hey, I saw what you did back there.

Max Briest | Original

[thephix]

01

[When Max got dressed this evening, she was hardly expecting to turn up at a military base in Florida, which might explain why she's currently wearing a floor length Rami Kadi gown, black Louboutins, and a few grand worth of jewellery. She looks somewhat startled by the sudden shift in location, but the shock is replaced by suspicion as she glances around, reaching for a gun that isn't there.

God, but this is why she hates parties. No one ever allows her to bring a gun inside.

When the soldier approaches, Max looks down her nose at her, snatches the file out of the poor woman's hands, then stalks off, as if she's above all this nonsense.

Which honestly, she is.]

02

[Max may not look anything special, having traded the gown for something a little more appropriate, but it seems that the mood is one of expectation, and anyone that the locals don't recognize is asked of their imPort status. She's happy to answer with a yes, and just as happy to pose for photos, answering their politeness with charming smiles. A few people are a little shy of the dog by her side, a grey pitbull with a few scars on his face, but Max is quick to assure them he's friendly. It's true, too; Maurice might just be the friendliest dog in the world, and the luckiest, since the attention Max is getting goes to him as well. Having her only real friend with her makes this so much easier.

Later, she stops by the malt shop to acquire a strawberry milkshake, sipping delicately from the straw as she wanders the streets, Maurice by her side, observing as much as she can.

She might be playing nice for now, but this is a new world with new threats, and she needs to be ready.]

Wildcard

[The sound of heels clicking down an alleyway is usually something that might signify someone is making a terrible decision, considering what alleys usually house.

The guess might not entirely be wrong, but the terrible decision isn't on the part of the owner of the heels, it's the terrible decision of the people stalking after her. The Sphinx smirks to herself as she picks up the heavier footfalls, shifting her ears to improve her hearing, since she can't risk turning around, not until they're further away from the light of the street.

And then they are, and the next sound to be heard is four gunshots, enough for all but one of the men following her.

The fifth man is left staring at the barrel of her gun, as the Sphinx watches him with a cold predatory gaze. Apologies spill from his lips so fast that she wonders if he might choke on them.]

Be quiet, please.

[Her voice is soft and polite, as if she's asking for a simple favour, as if she hasn't just murdered four men.

The remaining man shuts his mouth, and the Sphinx advances, hoping that she won't be interrupted. This will be important.]

wildcard (B what a good prompt

[heavyhitter]

[ She thought she'd caught sight of four guys tailing one lady. She'd slipped in after the lot, half out of interest and half with the vague idea of saving the day and scoring some kind of thank you cash, something like that. That's totally what heroes do, right?

Except then come four gunshots, and Ramir hates herself for being just around the corner and missing all the action. Shit, is the lady already dead? Because that would be a hilariously bad start to her heroing career, or whatever.

She skids around the corner at a dash, and her eyes go wide to see all of them dead. Well. Almost all of them. Apparently Ramir should have given the lady a little more credit. A lot more credit. A grin slips over her face, and she can't help a lone, appreciative mumble: ] Shit.