etcelsior | The power is in your hands

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The power is in your hands

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?

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[ Name, or alias? Name, she decides after a moment. When she meets most locals on the street, she introduces herself as Alice (if she's dressed up like one of the good girls in their poodle skirts) or Clara (when she's dressed like she is now). But this charming, chatty boy is certainly going to be a presence on the network, and easier to tell the truth now than to lie later. Though...admittedly, sometimes it's a bit of a pleasure to seem like a mystery to a boy. ]

Kitty.

[ Gansey is a weird name - not one she's heard before. She wonders if that means that he's from one of the more exotic worlds. People from worlds similar to this one tend to have names similar to what she encounters; they're Billy or John or Sarah or something of the sort. Then again, he's also got London, and he seems fairly unrattled by his surroundings. ]

And I came here...Oh, eight months ago, now. Hard to believe. But - what about you? American, obviously. And from this part of the country, yeah?

[ And his comment about the best academic institutions clears up a little bit of the mystery of which social class he comes from. Most people she knows worry about whether or not their schools are good, not the best. ]

Kitty.

[ Gansey repeats it like he's memorising it, and follows that with a smile. She looks like a Kitty, he decides - all dark hair and warm eyes and pretty smile.

And she's been here eight months. Gansey hasn't decided whether he thinks she's another import, or a tourist, but his file identifies him as an import easily enough. He'll wait to find out if the same is true of her. ]

American. [ He nods, almost apologetically, because after all she's British - she probably deserves an apology for that. ] And yes, originally - though I hasten to add that there's no such thing as De Chima, where I'm from. West Virginia is my territory. This is the closest I could get to it today, though I suspect that even if I made it as far as home - Henrietta, by the way - it wouldn't look the way I remember.

[ He glances around them, until his eyes light on a passing hovercar, and he points to it. ]

We've not grown into anything like those. That's odd. Wonderful, but very odd.

[ A cute boy with a warm accent says your name like he's trying it out, and he smiles like he approves. That'd make any red-blooded girl melt a little bit, and Kitty's blood is quite red, thanks. A little blossom of warmth comes into her face; she might be blushing just a little. She's not sure. She hopes not. ]

Oh - they're a bit of a nightmare to drive, though, so don't get too impressed.

[ She reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear. ]

I've got a proper car on proper wheels, and I like it a lot better than those. You can take turns much better. Those hovercars are fine if you're going slow, but at proper speeds, they're all inertia. They don't drive, they...lumber.

[ A proper speed, as far as Kitty Jones is concerned, is upwards of about 80 miles per hour. ]

Anyway. Are you going to go back there? To your hometown. I'd worry that it might be a bit upsetting.

[ Gansey's brows lift. She appreciates classic cars. He hadn't expected that, and it delights him. He points at her, like she's just given the best answer in the room, and he nods in approval. ]

You don't need to convince me of that. Too much technology dissolves the warmth of a thing. I prefer a car that lets me feel the road I'm driving on.

[ This conversation makes him miss his camaro, even though the two of them haven't been apart for very long. In fairness, anything he rents here is likely to run a good deal better. It might not even break down every five minutes, but Gansey will miss the Pig.

Let's not think about that. Missing any element of home is not going to help his situation in the slightest, and he doesn't have time to waste on that. Speaking of which, she makes a good point. ]

I wouldn't expect it to look the same. Not after this, but...I rather think I should. Just to see, just to be sure. There was something I was looking for, and I don't think I could bear it if I didn't see how much had changed.

[ But the way she says that makes him wonder if the same is true for her. If she is an import, after all. So he cocks his head, watching her curiously. She's flushing, a bit, but he's absolutely oblivious as to why. ]

Have you done that? Gone home, found it upsetting?

[ And she, in turn, wonders what that something is. So in return, she offers a little dab of information, a little bit more honesty. Instead of lying outright to continue the charade of being a local, she confirms: ]

No. It's a bit too expensive, isn't it - and I'm afraid I'd just get bitter.

[ There. And so then she feels as though she's karmically deserving of an answer when she asks him: ]

But - what were you looking for?

[ His enthusiasm for cars, meanwhile, gets smiled at and filed away. He'll have to meet Knock Out - they'll get along famously, because while Knock Out isn't overly fond of humans he does love enthusiasts with a proper appreciation for cars. She'll have to take him out for a drive, too. He'll probably quite admire her car. ]

[ Gansey's smile in response to her answer is sympathetic. He understands that bitterness. He's not immune to that feeling, to the loss of home - for so he imagines is the reason for her emotion. He's just unwilling to let that control him. He wants to be active, to discover. That's the only way to address this problem, and get back to where he belongs. He's never gotten anywhere by standing still.

Her question, naturally, brings a light to his face. ]

Well, that's a complicated topic.

[ Not really. But he wants to know what to make of Kitty first. He turns to her, expression eager, but betraying something else beneath it - something far more personal. This quest isn't just an interest, to Gansey. It's everything. ]

Not everyone takes it seriously, I'll warn you now, and I don't know how much you know about medieval Welsh history, so bear with me. I'm looking for the long-lost Welsh King, Glendower. His final resting place has never been known, but my search has led me to believe he may be buried along the ley line, in Henrietta, West Virginia. Which, I know, is rather a long way away from Wales. But I have my reasons.

[ He leaves it there, to see how she reacts. There are two versions of this story he could tell, and he doesn't know which is appropriate yet. ]

[ That's a complicated topic usually means I'd prefer not to tell you. Kitty, who pesters a lot of people with a lot of questions, gets that particular evasion a lot. So it's a little bit surprising when he turns towards her, all enthusiasm and shining eyes - and surprising, too, when he launches into that little speech. Her eyebrows go up, and her lips part in a little half-smile, and she listens with a mixture of astonishment, bemusement, and curiosity.

It all sounds quite a bit mad. Any story that starts with I don't know how much you know about medieval Welsh history is going to be rather mad by default, and a long-lost king buried on another continent - on a ley line? that's some magical term from some tradition of magic she read about here; it's a channel of magic or something, right? - is certainly ahead of the curve on madness. But Kitty has made it a rule in this place to first accept the story and only then question. So as she leads the way into that little park, she tries to think about that, and then just decides to go with it, and prompts him further: ]

Well - what are your reasons?

[ Gansey's smile brightens, solely because they're on this topic. His eyes are very keen, watching Kitty. He's already deemed her intelligent, because she's cautious, but whether he should also deem her skeptical is still up in the air.

So, for the moment, his account stays as factual as it can be, not touching on magic. Not yet. He doesn't know if she believes in that yet, and if she's not a believer, then hearing all of that will make her think she's mad. And he's only just met her, after all. It would be terrible to leave her with a bad impression. ]

There were small details, at first. The kind that if you looked at one, in exclusion, it wouldn't mean much at all, but when you view them all together, you run across too much that seems like coincidence.

[ He says that word with a particular inflection, because there's no such thing as coincidence. Not to his mind. ]

There are place names connected to Glendower, streets and areas named after his soldiers, his family, even his wife. Then there's the fact that if you go digging in those places, you'll find fifteenth-century relics hiding in the soil. Things that shouldn't be there, that have no reason to be there, unless a party of travellers passed through. Having understood the evidence of what I was seeing, I knew there had to be a why, and that led me to evidence of landings in America long before the time of Columbus - by the Welsh, no less. Individually, you might explain each one of those instances away, but together, the story they weave is one I can't ignore. The artefacts in question are things I've found myself - things that include Glendower's symbolism, buried in Virginia's soil. That's no coincidence, to my mind.

[ Okay, he...sounds very much mad. Or at least on the spectrum of madness. The Welsh? Discovering the New World before anyone else? Obviously, Kitty dislikes the xenophobia exhibited by many of her countrymen, and certainly doesn't look down upon other nationalities under the British Empire's control, but...The Welsh? And the whole speech just sounds so...Well, it sounds like he's desperately hoping for evidence without actually having any.

But, well...He is terribly sweet. She's definitely not going to laugh at him. He'll have had a very difficult day - if he wants a sympathetic ear for mad pet theories, then she can most certainly offer it. ]

All right. And if he is buried there, what does that get you? A...new theory for how the New World was discovered, I suppose?

[ Gansey watches her. He tells almost everyone he meets about Glendower. It's never been a secret. Some people are more interested than others. Some are believers. Some are skeptics. He's seen all kinds of reactions, and nothing is a surprise anymore.

Kitty Jones, for example, strikes him as kind, but not believing. Not yet. He can work on that, maybe.

Her question draws a smile which is at once both wry, and eager. There's a light in Gansey's eyes. There's nothing that means more to him than this search. ]

The New World?

No. No, it's not about that at all. It's about him. Glendower. All of it is about him. I care about the New World because he might be lying in it.

[ Not lying, he thinks. Sleeping. ]

I've found many things that are rare, many things that should have been impossible, but Glendower. He's my Holy Grail. Do you see?

Um -

[ She fiddles a little bit with her hair, and then pushes it behind her ear. And, with a slightly self-deprecating smile, she tells him the honest truth. ]

Not really, no. I'm sorry. Why does he matter? I mean - obviously he's terribly interesting and all that. But - You know.

[ He turns to her, watching her. ]

Has there never been anything you've wanted, anything that's driven you, until you have no choice but to go where the impulse tells you?

[ Not everyone thinks like that. Not everyone is motivated like that, he thinks; Gansey's obsession is terribly personal, and all-encompassing. ]

That's what Glendower is, for me. I need to find him. [ Him. Not it. ] And I was getting close. Closer all the time, and now, inexplicably, I'm a world away. I've spent a long time looking for the impossible, but I have to say, I really never expected this.

[ If she responds a complete overthrow of a magical oligarchy, she'll probably spook him, won't she? He's such a nice-seeming boy. Strange, but really genuinely sweet. So in response to that question about what's driven her, she just offers a small, ambiguous smile, and lets that be answer enough.

And then she offers: ]

So you're very keen on history, I take it.

[ That's not an answer. It's not just not an answer, but it's not an answer, which means there's clearly more to it and she's not going to spout off a lie for the sake of it. Gansey, who prizes honesty very highly, appreciates that.

And now, something changes in his face. It's subtle, but it's there in the fire that shrinks back from his eyes, or the way his smile turns less personal and more polished. Like a little part of himself has been shut behind a door, and the door has Glendower's name on it. ]

World history. It's one of my favourite topics. Which is interesting, now you mention it, since I'm not even sure how relevant it's going to be here. My version is mismatched, it's clear.

And my Henrietta is missing, but there's De Chima, instead. I won't pretend it isn't jarring.

I can certainly imagine so.

[ She tucks her hair behind her ear as she studies him. There was a shift there, definitely - in his energy, his eagerness. His honesty, maybe. He seems less open now. Because he's not talking about his research interests? This kid, in addition to seeming nice, is also quite the nerd, isn't he? ]

If it helps...In my experience, history very often tends to be similar in the broader strokes. For example, where I'm from, we've got a Julius Caesar in our history, but he's a different sort of person from the Julius Caesar of this world.

[ He is absolutely, most certainly, a nerd. He'd not even deny it.

But there's something of that in the way he looks at her now, too. Julius Caesar is a very particular name to choose. It's just one name, plucked out of history - but why that one, in particular? Why Caesar, with all that he represents? Perhaps this girl has an interest in Rome. Faintly, he wishes Ronan were beside him for this. ]

Different how?

I should ask how he's presented here, of course. I know him as a statesman, whose death meant the birth of an Empire. What's your version?

Oh -

[ And, altogether without embarrassment or hesitation, she answers him. ]

Well, where I'm from, he's remembered as one of the most powerful magicians in history. Powerful enough to build an empire. Supposedly capable of summoning one of the higher-level spirits on his own, though of course when people were writing history they'd gloss over the lesser magicians who supported him.

[ Gansey turns to her, startled, but delighted. All of a sudden, he bursts with laughter. He is by no means laughing at Kitty - he's laughing becaue this is wonerful. A world where the belief in magic is actually written into the history books. His head shakes, and his eyes hold the warmth he'd found. ]

A magician! And to think I was labelling you a skeptic. I'm really very sorry, Kitty. I was entirely wrong.

You believe in magic. Have you experience of it? Please, tell me that it's not just something that's confined to your history.

[ Oh.

Oh, well. This is - awkward. She smiles when he laughs, and looks interested when he apologizes to her, but that smile grows a little weaker as he goes on. Please tell me that it's not something in your history, he says, and she can't help the bubble of bitterness that rises up in her, nor can she help wishing so ardently that magic was nothing more than a thing of the past. And here's this boy overflowing with enthusiasm.

She tucks her hair behind her ear, and she tries to look more positive. Less miserable. ]

I've...quite a lot of experience, actually. Yeah. But the thing is that in my world...magic is something that's limited to the wealthy and powerful, and they use it to ensure that society doesn't change. That commoners like us are kept docile and obedient. And magic in our world is derived from a truly wicked source.

[ A breath. More positivity. Just coming into this world is traumatic enough without having your hopes dashed. ]

You...haven't got experience? You just want to believe?

[ Her face is a picture that tells so many stories. Gansey is not a fool. He sees her smile weakening, and just as quickly, sees her hiding it. There's something wrong with all of this, with what she's saying.

Like it's a struggle.

A wicked source. Gansey doesn't think of it that way. Magic, to him, is not wicked. People can be. The intent is what matters, the purpose. But then he thinks of Neeve, and what Blue had seen in her, and perhaps there's something of magic that is wicked. ]

Oh, no. That used to be the case, that I was waiting to see it. But I've never had trouble believing, and now, I've seen plenty.

[ Cabeswater. Ronan. Adam. ]

But I've not known it to be limited to the welathy. To people who are open to seeing it, maybe. You speak of it like it's a commodity. It's a great shame if that's the case. It shouldn't be.

No. No type of strength - whether it's magic or military or anything else - should be used to oppress the vulnerable. Under any circumstances. I do agree. And magic has been made into that sort of tool.

[ There. That's diplomatic enough. So she goes on to something a little bit more blunt: ]

If you want to find magic, and spread magic, you must be careful. In the way that...the people in this world who invented the atomic bomb were careful. It is a power that can destroy and ruin lives. Societies. I wish, truly, that magic hadn't ever been loosed in our world. That whoever it was who first thought to capture and bind a spirit had instead simply...stayed in bed that day, found something else to occupy him.

[ Gansey's expression is nothing but serious while she speaks. The easy humour and charm he'd shown at first have melted away, slowly, and there's all but no trace of them now. This is important. He refutes none of what she says.

Once, he'd been naive about the spread of magic. He'd wanted to find the ley line, and been delighted by what it uncovered. Then he'd gotten closer. He'd begun to understand the risks, and then in the end, he hadn't wanted to waken it after all.

And wouldn't have, if Adam had not, very literally, taken that into his own hands. He knows exactly what Kitty's talking about. Which is why he sighs, and gives her a far more unhappy sort of smile. ]

Sometimes, staying in bed is the problem. Not every outcome can be controlled, much as I would like to try.

[ He takes a breath. ]

Which is to say, it's rather too late for that. There is no going back for me; there's only forward. About what I told you before - all of it was true, the historical account and the evidence I've found. It's also only half the story.

I believe Glendower is in Henrietta because I was told he is connected to the ley line there. Because he is buried upon it, and the reason I could not find it is that the line was sleeping. Now that it's been woken, I'm closer to him all the time. I thought you'd think me mad if I told you that.

[ A little shrug - and, for good measure, a quick smile, not cheerful or happy but firm. A smile to prove this conversation isn't upsetting to her. (It is, of course, but...She won't have Gansey believing that it is.) ]

I've got a very firm policy of not believing someone's mad until I know them well. Particularly here. We all come from completely different worlds, and I don't know the rules of yours, and you don't know the rules of mine, and madness is all about context, anyway.

[ Anyway. She lifts her chin, considering that. ]

But...I do have to admit, I don't really understand any of that. What's a ley line, and how can it be asleep?

[ That's sensible, and rational, and altogether reasonable. This is a girl he could get along with, even if it's already clear to him that he's more fond of magic than she ever could be. ]

Ah. I've gotten ahead of myself; I'm sorry.

They're lines of energy, mystical and magical energy, which cover the earth. They're connected at various points, but each line is like a store, a suppose. And people with the, the inclination towards it can feel it, and draw energy from it. People like psychics. Or ghosts.

[ Or dreamers. ]

They're also called corpse roads, or dragon lines, or --

Actually, there are numerous names, I won't bore you with that. The point is, they're lines of energy. But they need to be touched to be truly active. Before our line was active, no one had touched it for a long time. Centuries of history had piled up on top of it, burying it. That's the same all over the world. You don't know how much is sleeping until you think to wake it.

[ She listens to that, a little bit reassured by just how different that is from her world. She's never heard of anything of the sort in all of her studies of magic. So that's something cutting off his sort of magic from her own, wicked sort. ]

Where's the energy come from?

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