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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[ She shakes her head and keeps after him - ]

'Normal' is a word that doesn't mean bloody anything, though. It's a useless word.

[Ronan is walking out of the cafe entirely. After a moment, Chainsaw joins him, landing swiftly and smoothly on his shoulder.] Maybe to you, but the rest of the world doesn't live in fucking fantasy land.

Okay - only the problem is that I don't give a damn what the rest of the world fusses about. I care about what I care about, and the rest of the world can either get on the same page as me or it can go hang.

Normal means conforming. Why would I want to do that?

Don't get all fucking philosophical about this. It's not that deep. [He keeps trudging forward, barreling down the sidewalk.] If you don't care what people think, don't throw me all your dumbass questions.

I don't care what people think. That doesn't mean I don't care what they are.

[ He's really hard to keep up with. She doesn't even have time to drink out of her cup of coffee, which is annoying. ]

Anyway, it's not even philosophical, is it. That's just what normalcy is. So when you're saying I'm a freak, what you're saying is that I'm not bowing down to what's expected of me. And I'd call that a bloody compliment.

[Ronan is now walking fast enough that he's knocking people off the sidewalk like bowling pins. ] Great! You're even more fucked up than I thought. Do you want a fucking medal?

[ Puffing along after him: ]

There's nothing fucked up about being self-reliant. About being what I want to be. What's fucked up is listening to other people and letting them define you. Can you slow down?

[The problem is, Ronan wants people to define him. It's so, so much eaiser if they do. They look at him and see wild chaos and unmitigated cruelty, and they leave him alone. The burden is gone, and all Ronan has to do is be that, do that, and the world is at peace.]

[But fuck saying any of that out loud. It all turns to ash if he makes a statement of it. Instead, anger rises, and finally, Ronan realizes he has to do something about this. In one jerkingly sudden motion, Ronan turns, now speeding toward Kitty. His hands are ready. He's going to grab her.]

[Chainsaw gives a despairing squawk and leaves Ronan's shoulder for a spectator's view.]

[ Oh - She's taken by surprise by his sudden movement. She's still moving forward, and even though she tries to move backwards to avoid him she's still got that inertia and so she's clumsy and she fumbles and drops her coffee drink down his front. Fortunately, it's a frozen drink, so it spills down his shirt in an icy slide rather than in a boiling torrent. And she gives a little squeak of surprise, nearly falling to the side, grabbing onto his arm with her free hand to steady herself. ]

[Ronan is, in fact, decisive enough to ignore a thing like ice cold latte all over his shirt when it comes to accomplishing his goal. It's just that he likes to swear, so he does.] Fuck! Watch that shit! [And then he grabs onto her and picks her up. He's careful this time not to hold her head anywhere near his, for fear of another ear-biting incident. Instead, he holds her so she's technically taller than him, holding her lower torso to his front. Sort of how you hold a toddler.]

[And he sets off in the direction of the dumpster around the corner.]

Hey - hey - hey! You fucker, let me go - What the fuck is wrong with you -

[ And there is nothing remotely quiet or restrained about the way she reacts. She fights him with all the energy she has - which is really quite a lot. She struggles to work a hand free from his grip, drumming her feet against his shins - and this time, they attract the attention of some bystanders, including a man who shouts at him, "Hey, what are you doing?" ]

Shut the fuck up! [Ronan yells, either at Kitty or the asshole heckling their totally normal exchange on the street. His footsteps are fast and he's got much better balance than before-- this is really a much better hold, huh-- as he strides toward his target.]

You kick like a little bitch. [He says, ever poetic, as he makes the final few steps toward the thankfully open dumpster.]

You're not -

[ Her struggling turns desperate. Losing a fight - okay. But being dumped like trash? No. No, no, she's not going to take that. She's not -

Her head comes back. She slams her face hard into his. Her chin hits his nose, hard, and stars explode through her vision - but as long as she's inflicted damage, that's what matters. As long as he drops her. ]

Oh, fuck! [Unluckily for Kitty, Ronan expected something like this after the last time she tried to take a bite out of his head. So it staggers him a little-- he doesn't see stars, but the foreshocks of what promises to be a truly heinous headache-- but he keeps going.]

[His teeth are chattering when he drops hefts her over the side of the dumpster.]

[ She tumbles into the trash. The smell is fucking foul, and the slime of it on her, but it's nothing in comparison to the sheer humiliation. She's still stunned, and so she lays there a moment - two - three - but then her head twitches to the side, and with her addled wits her nasty temper surges to the fore and so in her moment of confusion and rage she pushes herself up and comes back up out of the dumpster with a gun leveled at his face.

And then there's a flicker of horror as she realizes the position she's put herself in. ]

[She's pointing a gun at him.]

[What is she, trash-phobic? Is she insane? She's probably insane. Or stupid. Or both. Which is, roughly, a pretty good description of what Ronan does next. Acting entirely on instinct and anger and spite, he punches her. It's not that Ronan knows no fear, it's that fear makes him angrier, makes him angry at himself, makes him move forward to obscure more and feel less.]

[So, one moment totally still, the next, a whirl of movement as he punches Kitty's wrist with all his strength behind it.]

[ It hurts. Her wrist goes numb under that blow; her fingers lose their grip, and her gun falls into the trash. She clutches at her hand, and for just a moment, a single moment, the sting of humiliation, of actually being made into literal trash, and the pain in her face and hand combine into a toxic sort of emotional cocktail. And so, for just a moment, tears come to her eyes, and her breath catches, and she just stands there, disgusting and stinking and miserable and so humiliated, and she fights not to cry.

It's a fight she wins. The tears rise up; they then get blinked back. And she takes a deep breath, and she squares her shoulders. And stiffly, without another word, she goes for her gun again - not a rash gesture of aggression like before, but just a simple act of retrieval. Her gestures are controlled. Businesslike. Her face is immobile. ]

[Ronan is very assured in his ability to read people. This is usually to his detriment; if he thought she'd really have shot him, he wouldn't have struck. Now that he's struck, he feels some lingering emotion, almost like regret. Kitty, whoever she is, is a good person, who means well and never asked for any of this. Ronan hurt her out of spite and pride.]

[Good. That's the way it needs to be.]

[He speaks with petulant vehemence:] Don't point a fucking gun at me, freak.

[ She doesn't respond to that. She just continues on as before: returning her gun to its holster inside her satchel, picking the trash off of herself. She doesn't look at him, not once, not even when he talks. And, still without meeting his eyes, she climbs stiffly out of the dumpster. ]

[She hates him. She's angry enough not to provoke anymore, not to pry, and maybe she'll avoid him forever. Her movements are slow and ashamed, and Ronan commits them to memory. She's disgusted by him. Good, this is good, this is how it should be. This is what he does to nice things and good people. This is fine.]

[Cruel as Ronan is, he's never been interested in victories past the point of pain. He's succeeded, and that's enough. Chainsaw joins him on his shoulder once again as he turns to leave.]

[ And Kitty, still silent, still doesn't look at him. But she is cognizant of him, and the direction that he's going in. And she makes sure she's going the other way. ]

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The power is in your hands

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