MOM CAN YOU DROP ME OFF? (IN RUSSIA?)

[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! If you'd like, take a look at our ATP post!

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. 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 welcome you to their fair city. 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. A snippy voice wonders aloud: "My taxes are going to their parties and other expenses? When are they going to do something for us for a change? Why if they weren't around, I bet the Soviets--" These naysayers may, however, find themselves hushed with a judgmental: "You couldn't do what they do even if you had powers. They don't have to help us, you know!"

02. 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 and an incident involving gas. "Biological warfare... we sure some of them haven't defected?"

03. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania, is normally known for being a little more on the apathetic side, but there's been tension in the atmosphere lately, contrasted by headlines broadcasting petty, unimportant local news and no worldly news.

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 mutter under their breaths resentfully about "vigilantes". However, not all locals turn the other way seeing imPorts; some of them will offer a polite enough smile and thank them for their hard work. They don't stop to clarify what they mean, though.

04. 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. Advertisements are abound for imPorts to make appearances at various, televised celebrations, luring them in with promises of free food, merchandise, and payment. ImPort action figures and merchandise are on sale now, and every corner's coffee shop is still serving festive peppermint goods of every shape and form.

Comments

[pillz]

[obviously, this is chloe's lucky day! if she's into that sort of a thing. she gets to see the rage of an angry father again. kavinsky doesn't get another word in edgewise before there's an older man in his face, a big hand descending to snatch away the notebook. the man's free arm goes around his daughter, hooked around her slender shoulders. she can't disappear faster than a cartoon performer yanked off-stage after the hail of booooos.

kavinsky winds up with a finger shaken in his face and a shout in his ear. something about being a visitor, and the conventions of good manners (or lack thereof) that people must have in kavinsky's world of origin, how to treat women, generic scolding. kavinsky isn't listening, naturally. instead, his attention is diverted to another young woman on the scene-- chloe herself. kavinsky caps the pen he's still clutching pointlessly in the air, barely has to look at the angry civilian in order to tuck it into the man's breast pocket.

for his trouble, he gets a bear-like swipe at his arms. kavinsky snaps his hand back before the blow connects very solidly, puts his palms up, surrender of a distinctly indifferent sort.]

Maybe, [he answers, pleasantly,] if it was superdad. Protip: the super is key. Who the fuck are you?

[helladoomed]

Hey man, super or not, pissing off dad's about their daughters just never ends well.

[He seemed to be in one piece though, and whatever 'power' the porter here had given him, he was clearly cocky enough to take care of himself. That was interesting. She handed the book she was holding back to the kid, sending him off with a hair-ruffle before she turned her attention back to the would-be rebel. She plucked her cigarette from her lips, blowing out some smoke and just looking him over before she shrugged.]

Chloe. Who the fuck are you?

[If he'd hoped swearing would get a reaction, well...wrong audience.]

[pillz]

[swearing is just words, and words are always designed to get a reaction. the only real question is whether the reaction is good or bad, right or wrong.

in general, reactions that kavinsky considers good are the wrong ones, per conventions of the rest of the world. but he looks at her and recalls there are certain church-going demographics who tend to object to blue hair, as well. her response doesn't surprise him. the corner of his mouth curls upward, a smile that fails to warm his eyes but nonetheless doesn't seem to lack for sincerity.]

Kavinsky. I'm new. Not to the dad thing.

I just don't give a shit about the dad thing. [he steps toward her and reaches out, and it looks like it's about to telegraph a handshake. instead, he winds up pointing to the cigarette stowed over her ear.] May I?

[helladoomed]

[She isn't dumb enough to automatically trust a boy just because they seem vaguely interesting, though Chloe's 'bad boy' sensor was digging across the board right now. It had been a while since she'd run into one, in her defense.]

You're not the only one who's new, man.

[She actually leans back some at the handshake, cause she's seen that trick before, and she just smirks as she reaches up and plucks the cigarette out, offering it to him.]

Sure, I got plenty.

[pillz]

[it's a good series of defensive maneuvers. kavinsky isn't trustworthy, and the most one can say is that he's reasonably upfront about his advertising in that department. he takes the cigarette when it's given to him, lifts it up to inhale. the end burns red, visible embers for a moment, and then he breathes out again without bothering to turn his head away.

fortunately, by now, the babies have been herded away by adults who recognize kavinsky as more than a fashionable import. or less, as the case may be. he flicks ash at the back of the head of a departing tot, and then offers the cigarette back to her. there are a few drags left on it, if she likes.] What do you think? [he asks. when he smiles, the gaunt hollows of his cheeks pull even deeper.] Good versus evil. Fifties aesthetic. Fucking celebrity. You might even have to do something about that shit in your hair.

[helladoomed]

Good versus evil is always bullshit. [Chloe shrugged, pulling her pack from her pocket and tugging another cigarette from it.] I mean, whatever they're doing, it's still one government shouting at another and who cares.

[Chloe doesn't, that's who. And she doesn't seem to care about the second-hand smoke, but then, she was a smoker so...there you go.]

Hair dye isn't new, it's been around forever. And if you think I'm going back to blonde, you're nuts.

[She honestly couldn't remember the last time she had blonde hair.]

Lemmie have that back a sec. [She two-finger waved at the cigarette he had, reaching out for it.]

[pillz]

[kavinsky relinquishes the cigarette easily. he doesn't actually expect or want it back. he has his own little box of cancer in his pocket, of course. asking for her smoke had been, in part, a casual way about intimacy, as punks and rebels do on the streets. swapping spit is cool, even when it isn't hot. it's aesthetic.

and kavinsky, being a dreadfully shallow teenager, is all about the aesthetic.]

Sanity is overrated, [kavinsky says, wiping his hand on the thigh of his jeans. it sounds like a joke.] Man. We just got shat out of some inter-dimensional fuckhole into the fifties. We got new ink— [he twists his wrist to expose the mark riding up the inside of his forearm.] Concentration camp style. And some motherfucking superpowers, if the paperwork is to be believed. [if. he's a forger; he wonders.]

What the Hell is sane about that? [but he grins, fails to appear particularly upset about it. to be fair, nor does chloe. they're new on the ground, and already signing autographs.]

[helladoomed]

[She uses the end of his cigarette to light her own, then offers it back with a little grin as she takes a drag on hers.]

I'm just glad they didn't screw up my regular one with it.

[Chloe shrugs out of the blazer she's pretending is a coat to show off her actual tattoo, opposite the new one they'd all been branded with. She rarely passed up a chance to show off her ink.]

What, you don't think you've got superpowers now? Maybe you should try them out.

[Chloe hadn't really paid much attention to hers, she didn't believe it eithe,r but she wasn't going to admit that.]

[pillz]

[the cancer stick fits between kavinsky's fingers for the moment before he flcks it to the ground. grinds it out with his shoe, not especially bothered by the waste, and not because it's only a few last puffs. he's as flagrantly wasteful-- or worse in every other aspect of his life. that only isn't on display for the girl with blue hair.

not yet, anyway.] Well shit. Look at that. [he eyes her ink-- the sleeve, that is, when it eases into view. his bony hand winds up drifting in the air over her skin, and then he curls forefinger and thumb. flicks her where flowers and skulls converge. it's a nice aesthetic; he might remember it for later.] Some hippie barfed needles all over your arm. Maybe your superpower is you aren't positive. [he grins briefly, shows teeth. his eyes rake her arm for the marking that makes her super.]

Maybe I should. Can you drive stick? [a beat.] Car, not cock.

[it'd probably be best she said no.]

[helladoomed]

[The import tattoo is on the other arm, and disappears with the sleeve when she shrugs her coat back on.]

Man, whatever my powers are doesn't make any sense.

[Stupid pamphlet. She just wasn't worrying about it now.]

Why, you already gonna rob a bank? Pretty sure they're givin' us free money right now.

[pillz]

Nah man.

[a shrug rocks through kavinsky's bony shoulders. he's smiling in a way that fails to reach his eyes, somehow manages to look both bored and indulgent at the same time, while staring steadfastly at her. he's stereotyping based on his own culture, of course, but she looks like she knows fun people.

more important than that: she looks like she has decent pain tolerance. that ink must have taken awhile.]

I think you oughtta hit me with my car.

[he jerks his head. over on the side of the ride, the white mitsubishi lancer evolution stands out immediately from the other cars. anachronistic, out of place.]