sure, jan

[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

Nikita Bishop | Nikita

[janebond]

→ three

[ Colour her unsurprised. Or more accurately, colour her a healthy shade of surprised. She's been down in this neighbourhood once already, at night, pressing her fingers to the pulse of the city and waiting to tap the veins and cut where it suits her. In the daytime it's a different world. She dresses down, wearing gloves to cover the tattoo. The first thing she'd done once the tails dwindled from three to one (but they still have the file - problem can be handled later) was get a haircut and a dye job. The spy disappears: replaced by a young up-and-coming police detective, enjoying getting to know the city. Half the knives are still on her person: nothing could always turn into something. ]

[ The jukebox in here is worth looking at - digital when everything outside is incongruently from the 50s. She presses some buttons aimlessly, frowns like she's looking for something that she can't find, and then hmms curiously. ]

[ Addressing the person nearest, ] Does this have Bluetooth?

→ wildcard

[ It doesn't take long to find an arms dealer who wouldn't miss a crate. She's missing a submachine gun (or five) from her usual arsenal and at least two sniper rifles, but the variables here call for caution rather than the usual hurricane - superpowers are rampant and even an ability to manipulate UHT milk products can turn into a dangerous weapon in the right hands. She rents a car under her cover's name, and patiently stakes them out. Wherever they store their weapon specs and shipping details, it needs to be found and and put to better use. ]

[ She picks the empty roof opposite, and crouching there with a pair of binoculars, marking down who comes, security on the outside, and points of egress. In and out, nine minutes total. Now she can proceed, if it weren't for this pesky person who's just landed on the roof and seems to have the same idea. ]

Identify yourself.

→ three

[totalpacifist]

[X is starting to get used to interacting with humans again; it's been so many years that he's forgotten how similar they are to reploids. So when a woman who is probably just talking to herself -or maybe that harried waitress- asks a question that's been bothering him all afternoon, he can't help but pipe up.]

If you can figure out how to get that thing to work, could you let me know? I can't find any kind of familiar interface on it.

[janebond]

[ Familiar interface. Hurm. She gives him a wry smile. ]

Your guess is as good as mine. I found Queen but [ a helpless shrug, she gestures vaguely and keeps pressing. ] look at this thing.

[totalpacifist]

Yeah, I heard once that these things used to take money, [and X clanks right over to lean over the jukebox, practically feeling it up and messing with the display,] but where? [He gestures with both hands. WHERE THE MONEY GO?] There's no transfer option in the menu, I don't even think this thing is synced up to any networks. I can't communicate with it, anyway.

[janebond]

They're still supposed to. [ she says, with all the very real frustration of having to deal with this Fresh Hell. Digital jukeboxes had computer chips, likely, her pet nerd would want intel on this. Stepping back, she eyes the armour with Danielle's curiosity and Nikita's eye for detail. Weak points, connecting implements and ah that's interesting that he can't seem to communicate with the machine. ] Really? There's nothing familiar about it for you?

[totalpacifist]

Well, I mean. [He pokes a finger at the digital display.] At least it's not ancient. With those black discs? I don't even have records of what they were called. [he's so close]

But no, not familiar. We don't have these where I'm from. But- [And don't burst his bubble, he seems so proud as he points to the coin slot,] I think we're supposed to put twenty-five of something in there. Units? What's the currency here?

wildcards your wildcard

[thephix]

[Max doesn't like to rely on weapons; she carries a handgun and a knife because she isn't stupid, but guns run out of bullets, knives can be taken or lost, so she prefers to rely on her hands, her teeth, the poison she can brew in her blood.

But that doesn't mean she likes other people having weapons, and even if she isn't the Sphinx here, that doesn't mean she can stand by and do nothing.

So Nikita might be watching from above, but Max is walking into the thick of it below; the two men at the door are already dead from poison, and Max's heels click lightly on the concrete floor, drawing more attention to herself. Three men approach and Max draws a gun, but rather than shoot them, she aims at the lights above, shooting them out.

It goes dark, which is perfect for someone with a cat's night vision. Max knows it won't take her long to dispose of them all.]

such a rebel

[janebond]

[ She can count on one hand the women of her acquaintance who'd be so brazen, and she can't help a small, darkly amused smile. Note to self: don't piss off this blonde. It's down to six minutes in and out: if she's got time she'll check the bodies of the outside guards to see what really killed them. Either a heart attack or a fast acting poison transmitted by touch. ]

[ The front door's clear but she still takes a side entrance, heading for the storage room to ransack the crates. There's only so many ways to disguise a massacre (even of thugs) and she's not giving the blonde time to set the place on fire. ]

u love it

[thephix]

[Max has no intentions of hiding this massacre; the cops won't care enough to look too hard, not in a city full of people with strange powers, but it will send a message to anyone else in the business.

There's someone in this world who isn't going to look the other way.

The men who attack her die quickly, of poison or of blood drawn by sharp claws, and Max moves through the building to check the rest of the rooms. She plans to take a gun or two with her, just for protection's sake, but what she hasn't planned is coming upon a woman in the storage room.

Her heels don't click now, but she does politely clear her throat. She won't kill another woman unless she absolutely has to, and something tells her this woman isn't associated with the arms dealers.]

[janebond]

[ She's about done disassembling a rifle and shoving it into a duffel bag. She's always taken risks, pushed her luck, relied on her skill to get her out of a tough bind. Nikita's not afraid of other killers. Like all Known Quantities there's usually a reason and a pattern, and there's always delay, distract, and run like hell if it all goes south. ]

Just shopping, [ she says, with a wry smile, every line of her subtly tense, watching Max for sudden movements. She can kill with a touch and move silently. What else is there in her arsenal? ] Can I interest you in the fall collection?

[thephix]

Mm, I've always preferred Russian guns.

[Not cheap European shit, smuggled into America with half the pieces all mixed up.

She doesn't make any sudden moves, but she does lean against the doorway, effectively blocking one of Nikita's exits.]

They were selling, you know, I'm sure stealing wasn't necessary.

[It's a comment designed to get answers; there's a reason for stealing versus buying, and Max wants to know what it is.]

WILDCARD

[sidecars]

Gee, this is awkward.

[ Bucky stays low, but doesn't come any closer. ]

Let's see... White, brown hair, five-seven, rakishly handsome. That about do it?

[janebond]

[ Something against names? Nikita would've said, but it's Danielle talking, and she wastes no time. She makes an appropriately exasperated noise and lowers her guard just a fraction. The man hasn't attacked her (yet). ]

Who are you?

tres

[horsepiss]

I'd be thoroughly impressed if it did. A machine like that suddenly growing teeth? And painting them blue, even! Why, the world would be in an uproar.

[He's been watching her from the counter, poking and prodding about. She hasn't been the first and she won't be the last and all's for the best. There's no doubt as to what the machine does at this point and that's one less stupid question for Locke to ask.

Granting a dainty sip to his milkshake his mouth twists at the taste. Still too foreign. Still too new. Thankfully, the identity he's crafted is too. It gives him the liberty of demonstrating his overall ignorance.] You could make a fortune. Provided you market it right.

[janebond]

[ She raises her eyebrow at him, permits the corner of her mouth to quirk upward in a faint smile. There's always one who goes for the sarcastic answer. They've got a comedian on the house, better to let him talk and keep him talking. ]

What would you suggest?

[horsepiss]

Well there's a number of routes. We could keep it here, put a rope around it. Sling it as a sideshow attraction. Pass out fliers, letters-[He has to stop himself from saying criers. As if he needs even more help sounding dated.]-everything of a similar like. Get a crowd coming in. But that wouldn't pay as much and it'd be reduced to an attraction. What we'd want to do is sell it and that means spreading rumors in the right circles. Talk it up to be more than it is. Add mystery to it. Make it seem like the owner won't part with it. Eventually someone with a competitive streak will come and-[He spreads his arms, leaning back.]-there we have it. An offer no gentleman-or woman, pardon-could refuse.

[He settles back, taking another testing sip of his milkshake. It takes a moment for him to recover from it.] Child's play, really.

[janebond]

[ Danielle listens with interest, leaning over the jukebox, her attention on him, but also keeping the rest of the room in her periphery. Nikita's watching for the spaces between the words, the quiet unseen tells that everyone has. He's where he can observe the entire room without being too central and isn't sitting with his back to the door. Soldiers did that, most frequently, those in active combat. So did thieves, and spies. It's too early to tell if it's mere coincidence. She's not here looking for friends. ]

[ Wry, ] Here comes Bluetooth, changing the world. [ a beat ] What kind of business do you run, where you're from?

o3

[grinninggrifter]

[Thomas prides himself on being able to blend in no matter where he goes. That is partly due to the shapeshifting, sure enough, but there's more to it than that. It's all about attitude, about appearing to be someone familiar enough with his surroundings to be left well enough alone. He's not trying to blend in at this very moment, but his inability to do so during his first week here has him unsettled.

It's the technological gap, he thinks to himself, somewhat bitterly. It always is. He's an old man, and all of this? Is very, very new. To that point, he has no blessed clue what a Bluetooth is, or whether or not he ought to know what it is. He's being plain old Thomas Evans right now, so he doesn't have to, but his inability to understand everything is all very vexing.

Of course, none of that shows on his face as he offers the woman a wry, self-deprecating sort of smile.]

I'm afraid I wouldn't know, Miss. What would that be?

[janebond]

[ She reflects a polite smile at this gentleman (Danielle appreciates manners). To Nikita everyone here is a latent thread, she hasn't yet met enough metahumans to judge which ones are the useful assets, and which ones she'll need to keep an eye out for. For the moment, everyone brought here like her is under suspect until they can be classified. ]

It's wireless: uses a short-frequency radio to transmit data. I want to know if I came make this play my song.

[ What she really wants is a full breakdown of how this interface works and the easiest way to hack it in an emergency. Loud music was an excellent distraction in a pinch. ]

[grinninggrifter]

I see.

[He doesn't. All of this is terribly difficult, but he manages to grasp at least bits and pieces of it. She's carrying with her some sort of portable radio that she wishes to play out of the jukebox.]

You are a local here, then?

[janebond]

No. [ Carefully measured irritation. ] What about you?

3 oops

[andaway]

[Superman looks… actually pretty surprised.

He’s been asked to identify himself before, of course. Especially in here where he’s definitely not as well-known as he was back home, not by a long shot. He’s fine with that- he even likes it, in a way. Sure, being known was helpful but it also had a lot of problems so he’s fine with being fairly unknown for now.

But the way she asks him? That’s a new one. So he lets his feet land next to her, raising an eyebrow.]

Superman. [Because really, what else is he supposed to say?] You should probably identify yourself as well.

[janebond]

[ Crap. Crap crap crap it's a superhero; she's outgunned. Nikita was instinctively reaching for her weapon, slowly brings her hand back, straightens, and adjusts herself to curious, but businesslike. This man doesn't give her the impression he can be charmed the usual ways, but there's other tools. ]

[ Briskly, ] Detective Danielle Vo, Portland PD.

[ Now to see what will you do, Superman. ]

[andaway]

[What he does is offering his hand for her to shake. Even if there had been a hiccup in her heartbeat she's obviously on edge with his presence, so it'sis easy to assume he startled her (and is probably making her nervous).]

Nice to meet you, Detective. This entire situation must be really different to what you're used to.

[janebond]

[ A hesitation, then she shakes his hand firmly, noting his grip. ]

You don't say. I feel like I'm at Comic-Con.

[ She eyes the costume up and down, with the curiosity of someone unused to this kind of uniform. in reality she's looking for weak points. it's not Kevlar, but shooting at him would probably be exceptionally stupid. No one was this self assured unless they were good. ]