The power is in your hands

[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 someone else's thread, either!

And remember to have fun!

01. Your memory might be a haze still and you might even feel frustrated or anxious by the sudden news that you are no longer in your own world and that the Porter scientists and military cannot send you back. You don't get a chance to linger long in the underground Porter lab, but something is clearly amiss; light patches on the floor indicate something else used to sit in that spot in the room. Parts of the wall, floor and the tables look as if they have been refurbished in the past few months -- something happened in here some time ago. Something big.

You're ushered out quickly and then suddenly, you're enveloped in a faint blue blue light before you find yourself under the bright Floridian sun. Another soldier steps toward you with a smile, directing your attention to a car near a large gate. She mentions she'll be debriefing you soon, handing out a brown folder and a pamphlet. You don't see the digital tattoo on your wrist, but it's quickly explained on your way over to the car as you realize there are other confused faces nearby, all holding files of their own.

02. The city of Heropa is what one might expect from a small, bright and cheery place. The locals are friendly enough and local shop owners might offer a free drink to help cool you down in this awfully nauseating heat. Some of the locals might thank you for always lending your service to the nation and others might not say anything. In fact, some people might back away from any imPort who quite obviously looks like they aren't from around the neighborhood. Once in a while there's a look of disdain on someone's face and hushed voices. Something about "the outbreak" and "the government's gotta crack down on their medical files". "Some of them can't be right in the head" says another.

03. De Chima, Virginia, is a large city with a healthy economy, and though it's quieter, there are just as many citizens awed at your presence. Heavy winds have people grasping at their newspapers and constantly brushing hair out of their faces, but that doesn't distract them from crowding you in excitement if you're obviously from a different time or world, or just let it slip that you're a newcomer. Children and young teenagers are especially likely to ask for an autograph and a photo.

Some locals seem less enthused to see you. They never make an approach, but they can be overheard scoffing and muttering something about cameras. "Who do they think they are?" or "I don't like it... it reminds me of the government corruption back in the eighties." What could they be talking about?

04. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania, is normally known for being a little more on the apathetic side, but there's been tension in the atmosphere lately. Nobody will outright state what it is that's rustled their jimmies, though you might find a newsstand with articles on recent and aggressive vigilante behavior within the city. "ImPorts: loyal to the cause of their own?" reads one newspaper article.

People are not as friendly in this city and go out of their way to avoid walking down the same sidewalk as the more obvious looking imPorts pass through. Local cops say nothing, but they scowl at those imPorts and utter something about "no badges" and "acting like authority figures".

05. Nonah, North Carolina, is the liveliest of all cities. It's loud, busy and there's some kind of energy in the air that gets everyone buzzing with excitement. Anyone who they come to determine an imPort is bombarded with all sorts of offers; job offers, advertising gigs, spokesperson for advocating children stay in school, etc. Anything and everything! You name it. Shops offer discounts for food and clothing, whatever they need. People flock in droves with questions, but they all say the same thing. Thank you for your service to this country, Hero. You saved a lot of lives. Wow, feels great to be a hero, doesn't it?

Comments

Lopez | Red vs. Blue

[lapesado]

(01)

[There's a frantic scream at the edge of the crowd. Two security officers have a tight grip on the arms of a flailing dark haired man of short stature. He's clearly trying to lash out at the men with his feet, but his movements seem clunky and awkward, like he's not quite sure what to do with his own limbs.]

OH GOD, PUT ME BACK! [His words come out awkwardly too, somewhat robotic but not quite. Normal inflections are trying to work their way in, but it doesn't seem like he knows what to do with those either.]

I CAN FEEL MY SQUISHY, DISGUSTING INSIDES. AND OUTSIDES. What if I don't breathe enough air? What if I breathe too much air? Oh god... please don't make me eat. PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME EAT.

Just kill me!

(05)

[Hero? Where had they gotten the idea that he was-- No, damn right he's a hero! Finally he's getting the respect he's been denied for so long, so why turn it away?

Never mind that he hasn't actually done anything for this country yet. Who even cares about that? He's probably saved galaxies or something. Maybe. At least one, maybe two people. As long as he discounts anything the red team has done as a whole to counter this. Which is a lot, but he'll definitely discount it.

Lopez stops before a crowd of kids, flexing his... okay there's not really much to his arms, but he'll flex them anyway. A moment later, those same kids are running away laughing while he throws an empty soda can in their direction.]

Don't you laugh at Lopez the Heavy, you little punks! I'll give you all a second asshole!

[lookingfordaddies]

[1]

[ Simmons is looking over his folder and the papers in, when he hears a familiar (kind of) voice. He feels like he should recognize this guy who's about to get his ass kicked... ]

Huh, weird day. Guess it's nothin' to worry about.

[ And then he just passively gets in the car. ]

Lourdes Hidalgo | Star Shards Chronicles

[vacationer]

04

[Mauria Falls is Lourdes's favorite city. She doesn't care about the distrusting stares or nervous whispers. In fact, she vastly prefers them to being called a hero (though it's not the awe and near-worship she dislikes - it's the lie).

So when she's glared at, she just sneers right back. If she hears someone make a comment, she tosses her hair over her shoulder and ignores them. They are meaningless, and she's not going to let them affect her.]

05

[Lourdes looks neither surprised nor overwhelmed by any of the people who approach her, but she doesn't look particularly happy about it, either. When one woman tries to shake her hand and pay her a compliment (You're saving lives; we're all so grateful), she jerks away.]

Go tell that to them.

[She points to the nearest imPort.]

They're an imPort, too.

[Or so she's guessing, anyway. She's never met them before, but she's seen them around imPort housing, or at one of the swear-ins. Or maybe they were even in her group of new arrivals when she'd first gotten here. It doesn't really matter where she recognizes them from - all that matters is that this woman finds someone else to give her compliments to, and leaves Lourdes alone.]

anywhere

[Lourdes likes to people-watch, but her motives are far from innocent. She'll head to a crowded place and find somewhere to sit - a cafe, a bar stool, a low wall, a park bench. And then she'll test her powers.

Whether or not someone is affected by them seems to be completely random, which is infuriating. But they do work on some people, so she keeps trying. She'll pick somebody out and focus on them, starting small at first. If they're unaffected, they may just notice a teenage girl staring intently at them. But if they are affected, something strange will start to happen - their body will start to move of its own accord. They might lift a hand and start waving it around. Maybe they'll suddenly turn around and start walking in the opposite direction. If Lourdes is in a particularly bad mood, they might even do something to someone else - stick out a foot and trip another passer-by, or shove their elbow into someone's ribs. No matter what they do, though, they'll retain all control of their thoughts and mental faculties. They'll know exactly what they're doing - they just won't know why they're doing it, and they'll be powerless to stop themselves.]

[OOC: Lourdes has canonical body control powers, and it's completely up to each individual player whether or not they want their character to be susceptible (if a character is, she's extremely likely to abuse that fact; I'm completely up for retaliation, though). Feel free to let me know in an OOC note or in your tag narration; if you don't tell me either way, I'll default to assuming your character is unaffected by her powers.]

Unaffected, let's say it's in Nonah.

[bindsthedead]

Can I help you? [Sabriel's an imPort who's been in the public eye often enough to be used to stares. Her expression is controlled, but not unfriendly as she walks forward, but she stays standing, instead of sitting down next to the other girl.]

jinseok jin | original

[dicktate]

05: [ Excessive attention has never been something that bothered Jinseok. There's no discomfort in the way he eats up the praise of every person who reaches out to touch his hands and thank him, and he must stop at least a dozen times to take excessive amounts of photos with anyone who asks. Everyone who hands him a flier or gives him an offer or even shoves half-eaten food into his hands is rewarded with his attention, and good god does it ever look like he's absolutely loving this.

For all the attention he gets, he gives it in return, shaking hands, stroking thumbs, autographing the skin of whoever shoves whatever into his face--he devours it mercilessly, every single second.

Which is why it's so strange to him when someone isn't paying him the same kind of attention? Who in their right mind wouldn't be thanking him for... whatever it was he did? The second he spots someone not fawning all over him, he steps away from his current groupies, waving them off when they try to follow; they've suddenly lost all his interest, and he's far more preoccupied with the person not currently tripping over themselves to get close to him? ]

You want my autograph too?

[ It's fine, he can make the first move for someone who's clearly too shy to throw themselves at him. ]

*

00: [ Best thing after being thrown into a universe that isn't yours against your will, given a life you didn't want, and crammed full of powers you aren't sure how to use? Food. It isn't long after his initial arrival time that Jinseok beelines straight for the nearest street stall that smells sickly sweet and vanilla-y. A waffle place, of course; he looks the type.

But where one person would be satisfied with just one waffle, or maybe two if they were feeling it, Jinseok has one arm lain across the counter, one arm propping his face up, and whatever he's saying to the homely man working the stall is working, because the longer he stands there and talks, the more and more waffles the man piles up in front of him?

Man, sure is convenient when your already incredible negotiating skills breed into powers of forced persuasion. Except if you want a waffle, and the guy in front of you doesn't look like he's going to leave without taking home 500 of them. ]

*

your choice: [ Go for it. ]

05

[vacationer]

No.

[She snaps her answer, giving him a disdainful look.]

I don't even know who you are.

Illya Kuryakin | The Man From UNCLE (2015) | 02

[priyome]

[If the KGB taught him anything, it's how to adjust to a hostile situation with proficiency. Illya has been captured in the line of duty more than once, and ensnared in bloody escalations more than that. He deals with chaos the way he deals with everything else: decisively.

He cannot say he knows what to do with this.

The prospect of traveling time and universes is difficult enough. When Illya arrived and the dynamics of his situation had been explained, he could do nothing but stare blankly. He couldn't even find it within himself to get angry. How could he, there is apparently no entity to blame for this madness. Then he got his little pamphlet. Then he understood that he is enemy.

In his quietest moments, the few times he knew he was safe to dream, Illya had thought about life beyond the KGB. He thought of small homes, of games of chess that lasted for hours. In recent days a woman made her way into this scenario. Because there would have to be a day when the fighting stopped. Yet that did not seem to be. 2015 and things are bad as ever. Worse, actually. Now he is stranded. Now civilians glare at him with the same vitriol as enemy agents. He can only imagine how the situation would escalate if he were to open his mouth. Never could hide is Russian accent, it is beyond taming.

So Illya walks through crowds silently. He doesn't know where he is going. He has a vague desire for food, an even vaguer one for sleep. He nods curtly if he is trying to pleasant. Mostly he glares. If these Americans think they are being frightening, he can dish out so much worse. He strides through, his expression unyielding. Yet all the while, his fingers rapidly tap the side of his leg.]

[bindsthedead]

[Sabriel had been leaving RISE headquarters when she spotted the man with the pamphlet, and she quickens her steps, until she's walking side by side with him.

The only thing that might suggest there's something odd about her is her unnatural pallor, and the faint symbol on her forehead.]

Hello. New here? [Her smile is bright and friendly- despite the fact that while some of the people around her are happy to see her- others seem, if not openly hostile, then rather suspicious.]

Rocket Raccoon | MCU/Guardians of the Galaxy

[kicksomegrass]

[ 2 ]

[ So, this is it, huh? Earth. Terra. Birthplace of one Peter Jason Quill, asshole extraordinaire.

What a shithole.

Granted, Rocket would hold that opinion of anyplace where he found himself kidnapped, branded, and kept against his will. And since he's currently on Earth, he's decided Earth is the worst. Also? Their tech is a joke. (Seriously, was this hover technology invented by a two year old?) The heat is unbearable and the humidity makes his fur all heavy. And the welcoming committee in this place leaves a lot to be desired.

In fact, Rocket is currently engaged in a staring contest with a rather sour-looking older fellow who had glared at the Halfworlder as he'd passed. ]

The hell are you lookin' at?



[ 5 ]

[ Y'know, Rocket almost prefers the other places where people cross the street when they see him coming. He's decided (on top of deciding that Earth is the Worst Place Ever) that he does not like crowds of people. He especially does not like crowds of people cooing over him and calling him "cute" and "fluffy", while the miniature people try to pet him and pull his tail. More than once he's whirled on a crowd, snarling and shouting obscenities and threats.

This time is no different. He's been mobbed again, and he's heard "what a cute little raccoon" about twelve times too many, and he's finally friggin' snapped. He brings his laser rifle to bear, the weapon letting off a high-pitched whine as it powers up. ]

Call me that one more time, jackoff! I dare you!

5

[stealwithit]

[ The latest offender with the "cute little raccoon" line holds up his hands and starts backing away with a "whoa, whoa, sorry! Sorry!" until he turns non-existent tail and runs off.

But sorry, Rocket, if you'd meant to do that as a very obvious sign for people to leave you alone, because as soon as the man's gone, there's an impressed whistle from behind. ]

Nice gun you've got there, fella.

Locus | RvB

[followorders]

i. Arrival

[Locus walks purposely to the car without creating a scene. There's no need to when the soldiers have already given him a folder and pamphlet with information. He moves at his own pace and gets inside. He knows this process, it echoes a time long past when he first joined the UNSC. Yet, it isn't the same, nor he the same soldier. Silently, he turns over the pamphlet and reads through the information while pointedly ignoring the other recruits. For now, it's in his best interest to cooperate, so he does - for the time being.]


ii. Heropa

[He ignores their pointed stares, the hushed whispers that easily filter through his radio. He's used to it. Some stare, others glance, and the so-called brave even manage to throw a glare his way. Pathetic. Locus ignores them of course, there's no point in addressing such useless locals, so he moves on, the stares moving with him. However, he gets no more than five feet before two children stop him in his tracks when they suddenly to run up to him, staring up at him with stars in their eyes.]

..................

[Locus turns his attention to the two, his movements slow, as if he's unsure what to make of them, and before he can tell them to leave the two boys start talking in excited tones.]

Wow. Where'd you get that armor?

Can I touch it?

Yeah! Can we touch it?!

[Locus just stares.] ........................ [He stands quiet for a moment, his mind taking longer than usual to process their absurd request before his eyes fall to their sticky fingers.]

No.

Awwhh. Why not?! We won't get it dirty, promise!

Yeah! Pinky promise!

[As if to back up their claim, the two boys instantly raise their pinkies up at him, and one noticing that there is indeed dirt on his hand quickly wipes it on his jeans before raising it back up for him to take while giving him the biggest lopsided grin.]

.....................

[Locus does not take it, and instead turns around and walks away with a muttered: ]

Ridiculous.

[As the two children chase after him.]


Wildcard

[Hit me! OTA]

WILDCARD; network so none of the poor kids have to see wash and locus try to kill each other!

[worstever]

[The moment Wash knows Locus has been imported, he has to start making plans. Felix is rogue -- he could do anything, at any time. Not much good to prepare for him. But Locus is dangerous in a different way.

Wash knows Locus will find out that he's here. He knows he'll be readying himself for their inevitable confrontations, too.

It's better to get it over with.

Which is why Locus receives a private voice message in his communicator inbox, simply:]

Hello, Locus.

Teddie | Persona 4

[kingofthetvworld]

[5]

[You know, it's pretty scary getting sent to another world all by your lonesome, against your will. Having to adjust to everything, let alone by yourself, can get pretty intimidating pretty fast. If that was all this world had to offer, certain bear-like creatures may have thrown giant bear-like tantrums...

However, nothing calms an animal down faster than having their ego stuffed beyond its limits. If anyone's enjoying all the sudden attention they're getting, it's the weird guy in the mascot suit who gracefully takes just about everything everyone hands him. It isn't long before he's gathered a miniature hoard in those plush arms of his, which really is hard to miss at this point. ...You know, if the colorful bear suit was hard to miss in the first place.]

Now now, no need to rush~ There's enough Teddie to go around for everyone~

[Truth be told, Teddie was absolutely traumatized by what just happened, being away from his friends for even just this long was incredibly nerve wrecking. In a weird way, he was strangely thankful for the people lavishing him with attention, at least more than he normally would've been if this somehow happened in, say, Inaba. It's a distraction, plain and simple, and he'd happily eat it up and live in a few moments of bliss before it dawns on him how utterly miserable he's going to be. You know, when he remembers that this is actually happening, he's really all on his own.

Until then, where's a candy shop or ice cream stall when you need one?!]

If everyone bearhaves, I might even let you pet me~

[That's a good deal. Really.]

[bindsthedead]

Why don't all of you give him some space?

[Sabriel's tall enough that she makes her way through the crowd easily enough.]

Are you new here? People can be enthusiastic, but they don't mean any harm.

[And while Sabriel doesn't have any of the over the top enthusiasm of Nonah's locals, she certainly isn't unfriendly.]

I imagine you have a lot of questions.

the twelfth doctor | doctor who

[helpline]

one
[ That sure is a grumpy older Scottish man pretty much yelling at whatever poor soldier was supposed to give him his file. The Doctor didn't like soldiers to begin with. He especially didn't like soldiers who dropped him here, away from home, without his TARDIS and didn't even give him something that passed for an explanation. Of course there was this mysterious Porter that brought them here with seemingly no explanation. Pull the other one. ]

If you really understand that this is a stressful ordeal, like your little paper sheet says, then why don't you let other people take a look at this Porter? Let me pop in, take a look, I'm sure I'll be able to figure out what your little pudding brains can't comprehend, I'll fiddle around a bit, and whoopsie daisy, we'll all be on our way and you won't need me anymore.

[ "But sir, you're brought here to help fight the Communists and save-" ]

Oh you're long overdue, you should have stopped caring about the Communists what, thirty years ago? It might be more, I tend to overshoot these things. It all ends up fine, you end up bringing the glories of capitalism and McDonalds to the good ol'USSR. Spoilers, I suppose, but I don't really care, this timeline's messed up enough as is. So again, let me look at Porter and let me go home.

[ Said poor soldier looks like she wants to be anywhere but here—alternatively, she's thinking that she's not paid enough to deal with shouty Scottish men. Somebody please save her. ]

five
[ Yeah, they didn't let him look at the Porter. As such, the Doctor's in Nonah and he's borderline sulking about the fact that they didn't let him look. What was it with humans and not accepting the fact that sometimes they weren't the smartest species in the room? Egotistical, that's what it was. He's still convinced that if they just gave him five minutes with the Porter, he'd manage to figure out whatever was wrong with it and send everybody on their merry way.

The fact that everyone keeps calling him a 'hero' only makes things worse. He's not a hero. He knows he's not a hero. He's not a hero, he's not a villain, he's not a good man, he's just an idiot in a box who travels around and makes things right. Although, now he's an idiot sans box. Which makes him an idiot. For the first time, the Doctor seriously considers changing what he identifies as.

Anyway, he's an idiot, he's sulking, and someone is attempting to convince him to advocate for children to stay in school. ] What, d'you want a soundbyte? If you drop out, you're stupid, the end. [ People skills, what people skills. As he's pressured to give a better soundbyte, the Doctor just rolls his eyes. ] I don't know what about this, [ gesturing to his outfit which kind of screams 'magician' ] would be convincing to stay in school. Why don't you ask them instead?

[ With that...the Doctor just straight up randomly points to a random imPort. Congratulations, he's trying to pass the buck. ]

five

[kicksomegrass]

[ Said random imPort happens to be a bipedal raccoon with a rifle slung across his back ]

Don't look at me. I never been to school a day in my life.

Scott Lang | MCU (Ant-Man)

[mentee]

1
[Scott is currently preoccupied by the pamphlet. He keeps reading and rereading and then rereading again to make sure this is real. It doesn't seem real. It seems like a joke. Thinks the who guy who talks to ants. There are just limits on these sorts of things okay. Not to mention, he's been working his ass off not to abandon his daughter and now he's being pulled into godknowswhat.

It's not until he nearly stumbles into someone that he looks up from the pamphlet. Finally, he just decides to raise his hand and try to get the attention of the nearest soldier. He may be an ex-con but he's got manners.]

Um. Excuse me. Yes, I'm looking for the "opt-out and never call me again" line. Can you please direct me that way?

5

[It's weird being in North Carolina. Scott's always been a West Coast kind of guy. Grew up in Washington, lived in the Bay Area. The east coast and much less the south have never really been his thing. But hey, at least he's not getting nasty looks like he got in Heropa. None of this is is fault and he is not going to take that. No thank you sir.

Plus, the attention is kind of nice. He's currently wandering through the crowd with an armful of job applications. At least there's something that's finally going his way.]

You know, there's something to be said for the state of our economy when you have to go to the an alternate universe to get a good engineering job.

[Someone is waving to him "thank you for your service, hero". Well that's nice! Back home he's still kind of unknown. No one is really into shrinking heroes. Not when Iron Man is around. Or Captain America. But he seems like a real nice guy.]

And now I know what it's like to be an Avenger. Living the dream.

[Hahaha. Ant-Man in the Avengers. He wishes. Still, he'll take the job application they're handing out thankyouverymuch.]

5!

[helpline]

Well you don't look like Emma Peel. [ someone's idea of the Avengers is pretty different from Scott's idea of the Avengers. That's what happens when you live in Britain on Earth in the 1960s and only pop in occasionally to Earth in the 2010s: you get BBC Avengers aside from MCU Avengers. And besides, the Doctor's pop culture references are all over the place. He's standing next to Scott, sizing him up, with a frown on his face.

Sorry buddy: that frown's pretty much a permanent fixture on the Doctor's face. ] I can see John Steed if I squint. You'd need to do something about the face, though.

Ruvik | The Evil Within

[medullaoblongata]

(02)

[Can't be right in the head.

The sentiment doesn't quite draw a chuckle, but it does make him snort. If only they knew who - what - was in their midst, they might watch their words a touch more carefully. Of course, no one knows; how could they? In this place, they couldn't know that the frail, bedheaded creature was anyone OTHER than Leslie Withers...couldn't know that the mind now in control of the young body wasn't the one that belongs there.

Speaking of frail bodies - he's still getting used to this one, and the heat is particularly unkind today. The slow stroll down the street becomes a buckling of knees, a fluttering of eyelids. Pretense is missing from the scenario. The true identity of the man who has stolen the body is lost for the moment, obscured, unknown.

Outside looking in, it's just a pale young man, dangerously close to passing out on his way down the sidewalk.]


(05)

[If there's one thing Ruvik has never experienced before, it's being called a hero. Being liked, for that matter, is peculiar enough...but this? The outpouring of kindness, the enthusiasm for the presence of a man who they have never even met?

It's enough to churn his stomach.

For the time being, though, he has to bite back his disgust. A small throng of people have him surrounded, assaulting him with a flurry of questions. What's his name? Why is his hair like that? What kind of powers does he have?

His smile is little more than the slight upturn at the corners of his lips. His voice is even, but his eyes remain cold.]

...Hey, slow down. I can't answer everything at once.

My name is Leslie. And if you don't mind, I really must be-

[But the crowd won't let him go. He looks uncomfortable - growling a little in the back of his throat in frustration, just barely audible.]

05

[vacationer]

[Lourdes could easily help. She could effortlessly make the people move back and give him some air. She could even make them leave entirely, if she chose to.

But she doesn't. Instead, she makes them press even closer. At her silent direction, one of them reaches up to tug at Ruvik's hair.]

Richard Campbell Gansey III | The Raven Cycle

[quaerit]

A. COMPOUND GATES - FLORIDA

[ You've probably had a quick and confusing morning, wherein you were rushed from one official to the next soldier, de-briefed, handed things, and told where to go. No doubt it's daunting.

One boy seems to think otherwise. Dressed in cargo shorts, Top-Siders, and an alarmingly bright yellow polo shirt, he has tucked his file under his arm and is trying to engage one particular soldier in conversation - much to the soldier's evident dismay. ]

--yes, I understand all of that perfectly. However, if this Porter is capable of all you say, then surely it must draw energy from somewhere. Have you heard of something called a ley line?

[ Unperturbed by the soldier's blank face, Richard Campbell Gansey III presses on regardless, warming to his theme and giving every indication that he's here for the long haul. ]

You may call it something different - a Ghost Road, perhaps? [ No response. Gansey's polite, winning smile doesn't waver. ] Well then, if you wouldn't mind leading me to your scientific department? I'm sure we'll have a lot to discuss. No, wait! I'm not finished!

[ But he very clearly is, because the soldier is walking very firmly away from him. His attempt to give chase sees him ushered towards the rest of the imports (imports! That's what they're calling them) for transport. Far from looking upset at the situation, he seems keen and determined, and after a moment, he takes out a large, thick, leather-bound journal. He flips to a new page and starts writing, furiously. This is a very unexpected turn for him, but he doesn't imagine for a second that it's unconnected. There's no such thing as coincidence, in Gansey's world. Today's little tangent is no exception at all. ]

B. DE CHIMA

[ De Chima, Virginia.

It's a place that shouldn't exist, and yet it does. Gansey hadn't come here for the sights; it's the closest location to Henrietta, West Virginia, that the porters had been able to send him. The file they'd given him has been tucked under his arm, though he has at least read the whole thing by now. He'd like to be focusing on that, but now that he's actually out in the cities, he can't help but notice the people. The third one of the afternoon is currently shaking his hand, and while he's trying to be cordial about this, it's another matter entirely when the man's daughter speaks up. Gansey blinks, stares at her, and quickly laughs off the question. ]

You don't want my autograph, believe me. My father might oblige you, if he ever comes to town. Really, I should be going -

Please sir! I'm collecting all of 'em!

[ It's a bridge too far. With multiple apologies, and several assurances of yes, I'm sure we'll do everything in our power to stop such people, he's able to escape. More pensive, Gansey pulls a mint leaf from his pocket and sets it on his tongue. Despite wanting to be polite, he does his best to avoid the natives after that, and when strangers approach, he tries to pre-empt their enthusiasm. ]

I'm very sorry - I won't be signing anything today. I hope you won't be too disappointed.

B!

[rathercommon]

Oh -

[ The new kid's mistaken her for a local. And she can tell that the kid is new: the awkwardness with which he treats the autograph requests is proof enough of that, as is his loud and rather unstylish outfit. The file under his arm (disappointingly angled so that she can't lift his name off of the label) is another clue.

Kitty is certainly not put out by his mistake: she dresses to blend in, her style all but identical to that of the greaser girls who congregate by the movie theaters and record stores. A local, after all, gets to hear things that an imPort doesn't. A local gets to avoid these fans asking for autographs. Being mistaken for a normal girl means that she's been successful. So, far from disappointed, his refusal is answered by a grin. ]

I suppose I'll have to cope, won't I.

[ What does mark her as a bit different from the real natives is her accent: English - London, specifically, and lower-class London. But she's continuing swiftly on to the reason that she approached him, not allowing any time for commentary or questions. ]

There's a park a few blocks that way that's quite abandoned this time of the day. You can get a bit of quiet there. [ Wryly, she editorializes that - ] You look as though you could use a bit of quiet.

Agent Carolina | RvB

[akimbo]

０１

[ Carolina doesn't see the tattoo because she's wearing her goddamn armor and she's not pleased at anything, at all. Ever. Which is clearly illustrated in her lifting some poor sod by the cuffs of his jacket and pinning him to the wall, much to the dismay of any military personnel on the vicinity. These damn space soldier types... ]

Now listen. I'm going to ask a question, and you're going to answer.

[ Her voice is poison, thick and sharp as a knife, but steady and composed as someone who has done this more than once. Which she has, obviously. ]

And then I'm going to ask another question, and you're going to also answer. Stop answering and I'll start breaking you from the fingers all the way up, and there's a lot of you to cover.

０２

[ Carolina gives no fucks at the stares, although she does feel a bit out of place surrounded by so many civilians because damn, it's been a while. She'll totally push anyone that gets in her way though, and you don't need to see her face to know she's positively glowering. ]

０３，　０４，　０５

[ She's doing recon, everywhere and all day long. Carolina is hard to miss, what with her being a six foot tall bright cyan armored walking tank.

Approach at your own discretion. ]

01

[vacationer]

[Lourdes watches the scene impassively, making no move to speak up in either side's favor. When the confrontation is over - no matter how it ends - she approaches Carolina and says dryly:]

Having fun?

Shiro | Kimi no Kakera.

[spotofsunlight]

---01.

[ Shiro is confused, sure, but that's a preexisting condition and not actually due to Porter disorientation.

What he's gathered so far is this: He's not in his 'wer-ld' (what's that?) anymore, and the 'sigh-en-teets' (what are those?) can't help him get back there. Here is bright (why is it so bright?), and there's no snow anywhere (there are places without snow?). He holds the folder and file given to him more out of reflex than out of understanding their importance, and then something something 'powers', 'nanites', and 'tattoos' (can he eat tattoos?).

'Tattoos'… there's one on his hand? He turns his wrist back and forth, looking for the 'tattoo', but he's wearing thick winter gloves and heavy manacles connected by chain link*. Visibility is zero percent. ]

Hey.

[ He pokes the person next to him. ]

What are these things on my hands? Are these 'tattoos'?


[ * ] please do not remove manacles, that's dangerous, k.

---02.

[ So there's a kid dressed like an Eskimo, sitting on a park bench in Heropa in the middle of a heat wave. He's surrounded by now-empty and half-chewed paper cups, because the resident shopkeepers are pretty worried that he's going to pass out any second, considering how unseasonably he's dressed. Shiro barely seems to notice the weather though. He's more focused on all these awesome drinks people keep giving him—there are even little prizes at the bottom! Little chunks of cold snow things! But the best way to get to them is to chew through the icky white stuff first; if he tilts his head far back while drinking to get them, they'll just slide into his nose. Hence.

Om nom nom.

Another shopkeeper approaches with yet another filled cup and murmurs something like, 'Hey, shouldn't you… get out of the sun?' ]

What's a 'sun'? Also, are you 'friend' or 'foe'?*

[ The shopkeeper laughs an 'ImPorts say the darnedest things'-laugh and ruffles Shiro's rabbit-like hood before walking off, heading back to his shop. Shiro calls after him: ]

Hey, wait! What's a 'sun'? Can I eat that?

[ * ] please avoid answering 'foe' if you can help it, that could be dangerous in the long run, k.

[glowsferatu]

[ Kanaya can hardly fault his choice of wardrobe, Earth is a relentlessly cold planet to her, even in the summer. If the heat doesn't seem to bother him, then who is she to say that it should? It's more his question that catches her attention, since it seems such a silly thing not to know. ]

Probably not. It's rather large, and too distant to easily reach. [ She points up in the sky, to the source of all the light, the same orb she takes half of her diet from. ] Up there.

adam parrish ; the raven cycle ; ota

[aberth]

❚❚❚❚❚ a. florida

[ Adam Parrish is terrified.

Of course he does his best not to show it, taking the folder they give him carefully as if trying to avoid transferring some kind of dirt on to the cardboard. His mind spins with questions: where is he? How did he get here? Why can't he remember? Do the others know? With each one it gets worse. He feels grubby, sweaty with terror and small inside. Cabeswater is gone. He can't feel it. And if it's gone then he doesn't know what to do. There's nothing to protect him. Avoiding the gaze of anyone with a gun, shoulders hunched in on himself, Adam only opens his mouth when when the woman addresses him. ] Listen, I don't know what I'm doing here. I know, I know, it's explained in the file. But I shouldn't be here. [ She tries ushering him to the car as she talks but he feels a sudden rush of defence, planting his feet into the ground. ] No, wait. You can't do this. I have rights.

[ Adam is a boy of eighteen, fair, freckled and delicate featured, dressed in faded jeans and a red coca-cola t-shirt. He looks like a normal boy. But he's fierce and prickly and afraid and that's not a good combination. ] I don't want to read the damn thing, I want to go home. [ Anger is explosive. It's a gift he got from his DNA and he throws an arm out, the papers rustling in his grip. The woman doesn't look worried, only looking to two other soldiers who take a step forward. She tells him he has no choice. She tells him he has to stay. Adam's gaze drifts from her to the fingers of one man lightly resting on the butt of what looks to be a tazer. She continues. Adam has choices. He has a name he can choose but doesn't. A job. A school. A home. She rattles them off but he feels dead inside. Florida, North Carolina, Vigini --. ]

Yes, yeah. I'll go there. [ He doesn't know where De Chima is and he can't remember Gansey's number but maybe he can look up his parents on the directory and they can call their son and send him or Ronan to come fetch him. That's a better idea. Better than being here waiting to be hurt anyway. They tell him to wait a minute and he finally looks around him, sees the same expression from his face on other people's. He doesn't feel bad about shouting. He doesn't have it in him. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ b. virginia.

[ Somehow this is worse. It feels the same but isn't and every one he speaks to asking about Henrietta looks at him blankly. One man had clutched him by the shoulder and said son, you're not home any more and he'd fled feeling ill and uncertain. The cell phone the soldiers had given him feels heavy in his pocket with wasted potential. He'd tried to call Fox Way and all he'd gotten was a dial tone. He'd tried the mechanics he worked at. The Factory. The school. All the same.

And then there are the people. The ones who stop him in the street and grin at him like he's something. It feels like a trick. The recognition he'd wanted for nothing he'd done. Has all his wishing and hoping brought this on?

Adam is thoroughly miserable. And cold. The wind cuts through him and he slumps into a bench, pulling change out of his pockets to rifle through it. He's probably got enough for a cup of coffee. He has keys to a room he doesn't know. There's probably rent to pay. His head hurts.

And then someone sits beside him and he jostles a little, apologising under his breath for no reason. ]

❚❚❚❚❚ c. wildcard.

Anything goes! If you need to plot something out with me pm me on this account or pp me at athosing !

[rathercommon]

Oh - sorry.

[ Kitty flashes the boy a puzzled, apologetic smile - one that turns a little bit gentler when she takes in his appearance. You can tell imPorts, especially new ones, by their clothes: this boy's fashions are just out of step with the times, his shoes a little clunkier than what's popular, his hair just a bit off. You can tell them by their misery, too, this time of the month, right after they've arrived, and this one seems miserable.

Poor thing. She wonders what sort of world he comes from. Is he so unhappy because he's thinking of some horror he's escaped, or is he miserable because he wants to go home?

He seems to be having a bit of trouble with the money in his pockets. So she leans over a bit, and asks as delicately as she can: ]

Do you need any help with figuring out how much those coins are worth?

Exile | Road Rovers

[lambs_jiffy]

01

[Exile couldn't help but frown a little, only half paying attention to the words being spoken to him as he read the pamphlet. The more he learned, the more confused he seemed to be.]

This is...not making much sense. Are you sure this is doki-okie?

[His words were thick with his Russian accent, no doubt surprising some of the soldiers around. There were, after all, tensions between the US and the Soviet Union going on.

He didn't mind helping out; despite the work they did all over the world, the Road Rovers were considered United States agents. But would he be able to work for the government here, with the growing strain between here and what was technically his home country?]

02

[He was used to getting strange looks from time to time. Despite how often the Rovers were on the news, people didn't always get a chance to meet them. Those that did were always initially surprised by the talking dog-people they were, and he couldn't really blame them for feeling a little weird around them.

But this was the first time he was really self-conscious about it. He could feel people's eyes on him as he passed by, getting a look around the city, and it was starting to make him feel a bit out of place. At least back home, there was the rest of the team, and having the other Rovers to fall back on made it easier.

Here though...trying to not bring attention to yourself was hard when you stood out just by existing. He just hoped that people would realize he only wanted to help soon enough.

Normally he loved being a Road Rover. But as he tried to ignore some of the curious whispers as he passed by, he found himself, for the first time ever, feeling a bit uncomfortable being in his Cano-sapien form.]

2

[brushoff]

[ In contrast, Dorian loved being stared at. And, as he sipped his coffee and watched the big giant dog...thing, it started to occur to him that he needed to get while the getting was good, and find a way to talk to the big giant dog thing. At the least it would certainly be a conversation point.

So, he walked right up to Exile, grinning at him in the process. They make a bizarre pair: Dorian's a scrawny little beanpole of a man, someone from a time where signs of hard labor were frowned upon. ] Let me guess: new here?

Daniel Holden // Rectify // 5 - Nonah

[asphyxiator]

[It's not that Daniel Holden looks bothered by the attention. That would require something a bit harder in his expression, something a little more forceful. Something that might push back. But it's Daniel who's clearly the one being pushed here, by a crowd of people who recognize him as something far different from the monster he's known as back in his hometown.]

Hero...

[He's muttering it to himself, more a movement of his lips than a sound. What a strange word for a man like him.]

Implying an act of courage or self-sacrifice...

[That's a bit louder. He turns to the nearest person in the crowd: a young lady holding up a "cell phone" for some reason Daniel doesn't recognize, a motion which others might know as taking a picture. (The idea that someone could use a phone to take a picture is something rather new to him.) To her, his Georgia drawl is gently apologetic:]

I'm afraid you're quite mistaken, ma'am.

[vacationer]

They call everybody heroes.

[Lourdes is standing nearby, but not in, the crowd.]

It doesn't matter that they don't know anything about you.

ronan lynch | the raven cycle.

[fuckwashington]

a. FLORIDA MAN STRIKES AGAIN | cape canaveral, fl.

[Is Ronan actually reading the pamphlet- no, no, there he is, half way through and he's crumpled it up. With a look of evident disgust on his sneering face, he throws the discarded ball of paper at you.]

[Yes, you.]

[A raven sits on his shoulder, and it squawks what might be laughter.] What're you looking at?

b. SAVING THE ENVIRONMENT | de chima, va.

[Are you near any forested area in De Chima? Ronan is. There he goes, crashing through the underbrush with a look of utter disdain. Don't take it personally, he just has resting bitch face something fierce.]

[A raven flies ahead of him, occasionally stopping on a branch to wait for her sluggish human companion. Why doesn't everyone have wings? Really, it's ridiculous. When she crows, Ronan looks up and speaks as though he expects a response.] What?

[Then he looks over and sees you. He doesn't seem pleased.] Fuck off.

c. LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE | de chima, va.

[Back in the civilized world, Ronan is walking around the town with a bird on his shoulder. His jacket hides the tattoo on his back, but he draws attention to the new tattoo on his wrist with how he keeps picking at it. He seems like he wants to claw it off, but such attempts are curtailed by the watchful eyes of De Chima residents.]

[The locals don't seem to like it, and they mutter fearful whispers under their breath.]

[Unlucky for them that Ronan has good hearing.]

[His head whips around, and he walks decisively toward a middle aged couple standing outside a Whole Foods. Their eyes widen in fear as Ronan stalks toward them, and they look even less pleased when he opens his mouth.] What'd you say? You wanna repeat that?

[Someone please stop this tragedy in the making.]

c.

[quaerit]

[ There's something that's almost comforting about seeing Ronan Lynch, temper raised, about to release it on a pair of unsuspecting citizens. Gansey reacts on instinct, rushing to close the distance between them so that he can intercede before it gets any worse. He does that, and thinks about that, before the wonderful fact that Ronan is actually here properly settles in his brain, and then his sense of relief is overpowering.

First Adam, then Ronan. The world is righting itself again.

He still needs to help those bystanders, though. ]

I think they were inquiring about the raven on your shoulder. Not a sight they're used to seeing, I'm sure.

[ Please don't get in trouble on our first day, Ronan, that is the last thing we need. ]

Luke Castellan | Percy Jackson and the Olympians

[timeshares]

1

[All things told, Luke Castellan was having a pretty great day. He wasn't dead and in some new world, if he understood correctly. There was no all-powerful, immortal entity in control of his body. And most of all, most importantly of all, he couldn't feel any of the gods. Nervous? Anxious? Elated is more like it.

There was just one ... small... problem.

He flashes a smile at the nearest person waiting for their turn to get escorted to gods know where.]

So, this pamphlet looks really informative. I don't suppose you could give me a quick rundown.

Turns out I'm [Half a beat] terribly far-sighted and didn't pack my glasses. Any help here?


((OOC: Trolls are very welcome, of course.))


2

[Heropa was nice enough. The ancient Greek armor and empty scabbard had gotten him an uncomfortable amount of attention... The idea of being called a hero didn't set well, but a free soft drink and some directions was a fair enough trade off.

It just didn't really change the fact he had no mortal money with him and food was going to be an issue. So he might have been looking and listening a little extra carefully around for a good mark: a wallet just a little too big for a pocket, a storefront not particularly well attended. It made it much easier to pick up the baleful stares and not-so-subtle comments.

Nevermind the extra challenge of GETTING anything while he was this noticeable... what was being said was a little more concerning.]


Outbreak....


Are we talking zombie apocalypse sort of thing? Should I be looking for a chainsaw and an conveniently abandoned storehouse?

[microbrobotics]

[ When Hiro's not at work in De Chima or helping his aunt set up her new cafe in Heropa, Hiro sometimes likes to come out to this little cafe to work. Mostly because they have free wifi, and definitely because they don't mind him taking an entire table to himself to spread out his robot parts. He has a small robot skeleton with all kinds of fiddly modules around it, plus several concept sketches. And other junk, everywhere. No apparent wallet, though, and nothing of immediate value among the robot parts either.

He glances up when he sees the Greek armor. Wow, that's new. He's not sure he's ever seen someone come up wearing that style before. ]

Zombies, yeah. But we took care of it. Shoulda seen the dragon we took down.

blue sargent ( the raven cycle )

[caerulea]

o1. (heropa)

[ Blue didn't like to consider herself a skeptic. She lived in a house full of psychics. She hadn't considered herself a skeptic long before she met Richard Campbell Gansey III. And after? All that had followed had somehow seemed even easier to swallow. It just proved to her that magic existed in the world beyond her front doors.

This was maybe stretching her imagination to it's limits.

Other worlds? Heros? Recruiting her of all people? None of that really seemed real.

Yet it was. Yet here she was, staring up at a city that shouldn't exist. She should feel afraid. She should be wondering how to get back home or what her mother would do when she discovered she was gone. She wasn't any of those things. In fact she almost felt excited.

No doubt the influence of certain adventurers in her life.

Finally she flipped through her pamphlet and file as she started to walk towards the city, ignoring most else until she got to something... ]

Powers? [ What? Her eyes got wide. ]

Precognition?

Is this true? [ She asks to no one in particular. ]

o2. (de chima)

[ Days, weeks, months. It all passes by eventually. Yet Blue remains still in this world. She's not even sure for how much longer. So far no one seems to know. It could be a short stay. It could be years. Imagining years in another world seems like such a strange thing. Yet the longer Blue stays, the more realistic it starts to become. How easily she adapts to living in a different place. Hovercars becoming commonplace, the word imPort making itself at home in her vocabulary, heroes and mayhem now a part of the natural order she's come to accept. All of it feels normal after a time.

What feels even closer to normal is the little store Blue has set up.

Store is probably a loose term. It's more a business. A business based out of a place that isn't really a business place. It looks like maybe she lives her. Potentially not even alone. Yet the sign outside the building hints at tarot card readings and other services available within.

Or without if you happen to catch Blue hanging around outside. She's not one to stick to a schedule. There's still school to finish and there's always something else to do. But her business gives her more room to work when she wants. And slowly, she feels a little bit more integrated into the fabric of this world.

She sits outside today, shuffling tarot cards rhythmically. Watching the people pass her by. Some get curious. Some ask if she's an imPort ( to which the answer is always keep moving ). She doesn't care for the crowds that draw around imPorts sometimes. She feels like a fake still. A fake psychic. A fake hero. A fake.

But she tries to at least live up to one title. ]

Care for a reading?

( ooc: please pick your tarot card for your character. all 'tarot card' readings, should your character want one, will either be fake or generalized broadly for a show unless you specify you want something specific found. blue knows how to read tarot, but her city-given powers are actually more specific so she can find it if you want. )

o3. (de chima)

[ Out and about, Blue scurries around the city trying to get the shopping done. Such a simple task that sometimes gets overlooked without an adult to remind her that food is running out. Sometimes she really misses Maura. Most of the time. All of the time, when she lets herself.

Dressed in a lime green dress with black torn stockings and loose boots, the very sensible girl carries home bags filled with groceries. She should really think about getting a car. But cars cost money. And right now she's not exactly flushed with cash. A car would make things so much easier, though.

Such as when a crowd of people start gathering around another obvious imPort, blocking her path to home. She doesn't blame the imPort, but she is really tired of these gatherings. Aren't these people as tired of the fawning as she is?

She grumbles at people as she passes; a tiny, angry green frock in a sea of people. She almost makes it past the crowd when someone elbows her bag and the contents spill out all over the sidewalk without any notice to her. ]

Thanks a lot, jerk! [ She snaps at the man, who's still too distracted by the newcomer, whover they are. Blue huffs as she climbs to her knees, slowly starting to gather up her things while mumbling to herself about the rudeness of some folk. ]

o4.

( ooc: open to other scenarios as well! )

2!

[rathercommon]

Oh -

[ The offer takes Kitty a little by surprise. She hasn't heard that offer in quite some time. Naturally, there were plenty of tarot-card readers back home - commoners, mostly, trying to make themselves seem a little more respectable by making claims to magic that they didn't actually have. With her ability - blocking powers, cancelling out magic - she doubts that any accurate reading of her can be done, even if this girl is for real. But it's still a charming offer.

So: ]

How much will it cost?

Malik Al-Sayf | Assassin's Creed

[loyalrebel]

03

Normally, Malik doesn't mind crowds, in fact he often enjoys walking in them because he knows how to be invisible in them. Between a lifetime spent learning how to do it and being seen as a lack of a threat due to his missing arm (a foolish thing to ever think about him) he's enjoyed the luxury of anonymity when travelling for a great deal of his life.

Until here.

The children aren't the problem, children notice things that adults dismiss and teach them to ignore as they grow older. Malik generally doesn't mind children, it's when they point him out and their parent's aren't hushing them for pointing and gawking at an obviously unfortunate man and instead smile and gesture at him in a way that has them skipping over with papers and pens and flashing lights that blind him for a moment while they babble and ask questions that bothers him.

That there aren't enough tall buildings to climb and use to avoid them is another point of contention that has Malik slowly building a growing hatred towards this 'America' place. So it is while he is concentrating as hard as he can on finding somewhere safe to hide that the world suddenly washes over in dulled colors aside from the few vivid blazes of blues, reds and white that are both people and locations. It only lasts a moment, his concentration breaking at the shock of it but a few of the red blazed people remain.

He moves towards a wall, palm pressing in to his eye as he tries to get the strangeness to go away. Eagle Vision is not something he was prepared for to be piled on top of him today. It's when someone bumps in to his left side that he finally snaps.

"Pay attention!" he half hisses in sudden livid 12th century arabic at the poor fool who's finally broken the dam. "Damn fool, do you have salt for brains?"

04

Malik's managed to find modern clothing that doesn't irritate him that he can manage to get on or off with only one arm, and while he's got his own boots on still he blends in well enough with the general population to not be on the receiving end of too many glares. It's easy to pull the hood on his coat up and tuck his head down and move with whatever crowd has gathered, listening in on conversations and lifting an occasional wallet from a pocket. He drops back and only takes a couple of the small numbered bills or a few of the large coins, if there are any, in them before just as artfully slipping back forward and putting the wallet back in to whatever pocket or bag it came out of.

He doesn't actually understand that the bit of plastic in his own pocket has the equivalent of far more money than he's seen in one sitting, let alone that it's currency.

05

The small horde of touch-happy citizens swarming the Assassin probably don't know that they're aggravating a still healing wound every time they tug at him or tap his left shoulder for attention. Apparently being from over 900 years in the past and missing a limb had him a target for a few rather overly eager sorts, but enough had been enough.

"Which part of stop touching me are you unable to understand?!" He finally snaps, shoving at the poor citizen with some strength. "I do not even want to be here! Would you want to be harassed when you were over 6,000 miles and 900 years from anywhere looking like home by people who have no sense of personal space?!"

Someone should... probably step in before he makes more of a scene.

5 - mind an OC?

[goingnova]

Oh dear. Ari may be out of her own element, here, but so is this man - and, apparently, quite worse off than her for it.

"Ah- excuse me, excuse- please, if you don't-"

It's not that she's more comfortable in crowds; far from it, without her group of friends, she feels as adrift as a dandelion puff. But when someone's getting to the point of lashing out at others for his own discomfort?

She manages to shove her way to the front, catching a bit of attention of her own. With a coat that looks like it's straight out of some sort of renaissance fair, her own status as an 'imPort' is clear.

And honestly, she doesn't mind.

"There you are - I've been looking all over for you! Come on, we've got to catch up!"

Her voice is loud - deliberately so, to carry, and emphasize the underlying let's get out of here. The staff she promptly swings forwards - just barely avoiding hitting anyone (and is that deliberate, too? it looks more a matter of chance than anything else, but she seems to know how to use it) - assists in clearing a path,

Mr. Nobody | The Doom Patrol

[herr_niemand]

01

[Ah yes, arrivals to another world. Time for another round of angst and existential slogging, right? Afraid not.

Already there's a tension given Mr. Nobody's...unconventional appearance. But as he's ushered out, the strange man doesn't help matters by intrinsically dropping his folder to the ground.]

Ah yes. Solar radiation, it does a body good.

[Maybe some other people would 'cooperate' but Mr. Nobody would rather fashion himself a paper hat from his brochure.]

Right then. Since I'm here I might as well waste time. Take me to the nearest party store and THEN bring me to the nearest missile silo! It's time we redecorate~

[Perhaps making this kind of talk in front of military personnel was ill-advised, but such is the life of Mr. Nobody.]

05

[Mr. Nobody need only arrive to this town and he got all the attention he wanted. Oh yes people stared. More than that there were murmurs of what is it and uh.... Some people didn't bother to say anything and just let their wide-eyed looks of confusion do the talking before they went on with what they were doing. And boy did Mr. Nobody THRIVE on it.

He thrived on being an absurdity amongst this hum drum crowd of gawking yokels. So what do you do with a crowd? Well first you egg, but after that you perform.

The abstracted man takes a step on the nearest chair to give an impromptu speech. Were did this chair come from? What was it's purpose? Such are the mysteries of life.]

It was just now that I arrived and all around I see is booooring.

Well, I've fix that, break it, and then some! All you have to do is join my merry little band and say goodbye to a job, a meaningful source of income, and goodbye to those Thanksgiving dinners!

I'm starting a brotherhood, you see! For the lost and misbegotten! For all the forgotten little people whose names are never on license plates.

All I ask is that you give up your common sense! What do you say?

[Already there's just murmurs of confusion and disgruntlement. Ah, music to his ears.]

Tim Drake | DC Comics (preboot)

[nothinglikeanybody]

2. The mixed reception to those who are obviously not native to this world is... interesting. Of course, in his own reality, opinions on superheroes are mixed and vary heavily from person to person (and superhero to superhero, for that matter). Tim has plenty of time to observe, given that there's a limit to how fast he can move - or at least, should be able to move - on crutches. Not that he needs them, but the government here somehow got hold of his medical records, which stated that Timothy Drake-Wayne was shot some months ago and experienced a spinal injury that impeded his ability to walk. Given how much else they've somehow managed to find out about him, he's not quite willing to tip his hand on this one issue. You never know when it might be useful to have a built-in excuse for your secret identity like that.

At some point, he finds a bench to take a break and idly people-watch, although you can bet he's paying attention to far more details than it looks like he is.

4. Maurtia Falls, sadly, feels a lot more like home. It's here that the shield of 'poor half-crippled teenage boy' comes in much more handy. Most people, regardless of how much they dislike imPorts, aren't willing to go out of their way to be assholes to a kid walking around with leg braces and crutches.

He's also taking the opportunity to practice one of his new powers - invisibility. Every so often, when he's sure no one's looking, he'll slip out of sight and stay that way, hanging back to idly spy on observe whoever happens to be around. Invisibility is definitely going to be a useful power.

2

[orions_shadow]

There's a problem with having the instincts and mind of a predator. Crippled prey is easy prey. However, humans, to Shadow, didn't count. It still attracted his attention, and despite his best effort, prompted him into staking the boy.

Not an easy task in a city, no. He's taken to the roof tops for a few blocks, moving on all fours and tailing him. It isn't until Tim is on the bench, he drops into an alley and moves in for the kil--

Okay stop.

The hell am I doing?

Leo Valdez | Percy Jackson: heroes of olympus

[seventhwheel]

01.

[Well that had been a blast. He'd woken up to the feds a hot mess, clothes steaming and burnt and who knows what else.

Great way to start being reborn.

He took a quick glimpse at the folder he was given, then immediately closed it deciding he'll decipher this chicken scratch later, when he's got more time to try and read it. But Leo is watching the feds closely; authority and him never really get along well and these guys aren't much different otherworldly or not. But they're walking him to a car and one important thought crosses his mind:]

Hey! So are any of you jerks gonna tell me where you took my dragon?!

2, 3, 4

Hey, come on, what's a thing like this worth to ya?

[Leo needed to eat. But he also needed money to eat, which he didn't have - just a few drachmas in his toolbelt leftover from the quest in Greece. So he pulled some metal from his toolbelt and put together a little contraption to try and sell, at least to get something to eat and tide him over. He couldn't think on an empty stomach and there's a lot to try and figure out.

Like where his dragon is. What happened to Gaia. What happened to his friends. Are his friends here and do they realize what happened or does he have to explain himself (he hopes not).

He offers up the small mechanical device, the size of his palm, to someone only for them to walk away.]

Well, I think it's worth a couple burgers.

05. Nonah

[Leo takes stocks of what he has as he walks the streets. Magic toolbelt? Check. Fire powers? A little flame on the tip of his finger so he doesn't draw too much attention - check and check. Festus? Still missing in action.

He can't decide how he feels about this weird bizarro alternate world that he apparently blew himself up into. The hover cars are pretty ridiculously awesome, but everything else looks like a bust. He reaches into his toolbelt and pulls some pieces of metal out, tinkering as he walks and thinks. It helps. It's not that he thinks he should be dead, far from it. It means his plan worked, he just doesn't know how that led to this. Maybe he'd stayed dead so long, the world took a weird turn? Maybe Festus had been so damaged in the final blow that he only got so far before having to land and locals found him?

Weirder things have definitely happened, he decides.

Being dead takes a lot out of a guy and he hears his stomach rumble as he walks by a cafe, stops to look in the window for a minute.]

Man... What I could really go for right now is a pizza.

3

[orions_shadow]

[And suddenly, there is a lion like kid behind you, black fur, green eyes. He circles around with little concern for personal space to look at the contraption.]

Depends on what it is.

And if you need food I can get you some.

Erik Lehnsherr ⊗ X-Men Movies

[incogneto]

03
[ He finds something fishy about the situation; mostly this because he was, to the best of his knowledge, already lending a hand to the USA in its efforts not to escalate the cold war to a hot war. He was really just in it for personal reasons, but as long as his relationship with the CIA was a mutually beneficial transaction, there shouldn't have been a problem. Have they sold him out? Transferred him? Is this a test?

So far, the locals haven't noticed him one way or another. He's just a passerby. Although some of the reactions to others have been positive, he's not really willing to risk it. The thing is, he has more questions than he has answers, and of all the things that leave him uncomfortable, that's the one that leaves him the most ill at ease. Which is why he picks a nearly empty cafe, and with plenty of seats, he takes his coffee and paper to the one your character happens to be at. ]

Mind if I join you?

[ And yet he's already taken a seat. ]

04
[ He doesn't like this town. Ever since he got to it, he's had a sense of unease. So naturally, the first thing he can think about doing is getting out of it. Coming here was a mistake, but it is slightly closer to where he wants to be than Virginia was. This has, thus far, all been rather surreal, and so Erik needs to find something familiar, something he can piece together. There he is, at the train station, looking at a large timetable with flipping numbers. ]

Excuse me, do you know how to get to New York City?

03

[bindsthedead]

Not at all.

[Sabriel's a little bit distracted- she's reading the latest article about the disaster at the swear in, and the news that the prime suspect was being sheltered in Lucifer's church.]

Noah Czerny / Raven Cycle / OTA

[smudgedlife]

ONE; arrival (skip to the bolded, if you like)

[It's quite a thing to wake up when you haven't slept for seven years. For a moment, Noah thinks he's finally faded away into the shadows, and this is the after-afterlife. A ghost fully rotted. His eyes flicker across the strange people surrounding him. A woman begins explaining something, but Noah isn't really listening. She doesn't seem to care, though, as a man ushers him out. He takes a sharp breath as the stranger makes contact, and then it hits him. A combo attack, really.

They can see him. And he's breathing. Two things that largely haven't truly happened in a long time. Noah Czerny had been dead for seven years. And now, just like that, he's not.

Terrified, Noah hardly notices the folder shoved into his hands before they effectively pack him in with a jostling body of strangers and brown folders.

Anyone in the crowd can see a slumped, rumpled boy muttering to himself, panicked] This is wrong. It's not mine, it's too heavy, what-- [The air about him suggests he's suddenly too large for his body, as if he's struggling to rise up and burst out of it. The air grows cold and static and the brochure, folder, and perhaps everything you are holding lift themselves into the air, smacking passersby in their face. Or yours.

Noah turns to the woman who was ushering him along, his pleading face contrasting his accusing voice] What did you do?

[the soldier is immediately on edge, fingering a weapon. stop Noah or yell at him. your choice]

TWO; It's still Virginia, Toto

[Noah was never about the details, in life or death. Rather, he only notices them. Things that most don't. It's an easy thing when you're floating among everyone else, a cloud just grazing the ground.

It's a lot harder when you're suddenly tethered to the earth like every other person. Noah has been dead for seven years, and now he is alive. Just like that. And that alone is enough to freak him out. He's experiencing every physical thing faded from memory at once, now, like he's forgotten how to block out the unimportant things. People whispering behind your back. The wind hitting his face and the minty scent of a particular bark that comes with it. The warmth of the Sun. A hand on his arm as a stranger stops him.

He turns to the man as if he expects to get hit. Wait. No. It's an old man, and he's asking for Noah's autograph. It's the fourth one today; his school uniform must scream early 2000s. Noah simply gapes at him like a dead fish trying to force in air.

The man continues, please, his granddaughter who would so appreciate it!]

I don't want to. Please . . . [He backs up, shaking his head. Regardless, a crowd gathers. Noah can only stare. Excited people whip out camera phones, ready for a spectacle.

Noah collapses. A ways from the bustling crowd, his ghost blinks into existence right next to you. He whines] Not again!

THREE; Heropa

[a boy in a mussed, faded uniform is seated at a table of one of the local shops. Before him is a tottering stack of donuts and a cup of hot chocolate. He's staring at the tower reverently, hesitant to eat them all. The skittish way he rubs his hands on his pants, glances around, simply holds the cup of cocoa, one would think he were a starving seventeen-year-old orphan or something. The nasty, purple bruise under his eye may just drive it home, though his flighty fingers have forgotten it.

In the next breath, he starts shoving the donuts into his mouth. Someone stop him before he pukes]

WHATEVER;

[throw me a starter, if you like! You can reach me at NruuCake]

2

[illuminescent]

[The thing about appearing next to Lucy is really he is appearing next to her horse; she was riding into town and it is halfway between the farm and the city where they meet, the road ribboning out in both directions.

And she is a girl riding side saddle in a dress that speaks more to 1950 than 2001, so Noah has that much going for him.

She yelps when she sees him and pulls her horse tightly away from him, and looks down.]

Aslan's mane, you gave me a shock! Are you quite well?

[She's already beginning to dismount.]

It's luck that we did not hit you. I am so glad it was on our side.