OH MY GOD YOU GUYS

[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. The city of Heropa is what one might expect from a small, bright and cheery place, where 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. An upset voice wonders aloud: "More of them, when we already know they can't protect us? That's just painting a bigger target on the city's back!" However, they're quickly hushed with a judgmental: "They helped save the cities, and it's the Soviets you should be angry with anyway! The imPorts are here to protect us!"

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. Many people are out and about taking care of their regular business, 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 spies. "How can we trust any of them now?"

03. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania, is not as friendly and its citizens tend to 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 help in overthrowing the trespassers. They don't stop to clarify what they mean, though.

04. Nonah, North Carolina, is the liveliest of all cities; 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.

Comments

[burningbothends]

[As much as he wants to, there no way Roy can hide the fact that he's unused to his blindness. Not in these circumstances. And he really can't help the way he tenses as they start to move, though he doesn't let any uncertainty show in his gait, putting one foot in front of the other as if he knew exactly where he was going.]

Space? That's incredible, even moreso than the teleportation.

[vorbarra]

[ Gregor is too respectful (and too well-trained by Miles's pride) to offer any overt sympathy or to ask about the obviousness of his injury, or even to inquire if he should be carrying someone as he is. He merely directs him and does what he can to help him make the adjustment to living here. He's well aware he'll be looking for an information source and isn't bothered by providing it.

This response gives him one answer he was looking for-- a gauge on Mustang's level of technology. ] Suspension of disbelief is a valuable coping skill for living here, [ he says dryly, poking fun at himself a little with that. ]

We're approaching the exterior door, [ he informs him, a factual announcement. Gregor can well imagine how nerve-wracking it is to have a total stranger guiding you through a strange, unknowable world. The least he can do is keep him informed on where they are. ]

[burningbothends]

[The short answer is Roy should probably not be carrying a half-metal teenager, no. Pride didn't quite break his ribs smacking him around but his sides and his arms were basically just a very large, ugly bruise. He'll certainly be limping before too long, but right now pain is pushed aside by adrenaline.

Roy still manages a wry tone despite it--wry but grumbly.]

Wonderful. Well, it doesn't matter, I gave up disbelief long ago.

[He gives a curt nod at the warning, grateful and a little bit relieved.]

[vorbarra]

[ He navigates them through the door with a bit of awkwardness, but without comment on it either, Gregor stepping through first and then waiting for him to catch up.

This is an interesting response-- what kind of life has he led to have given up on disbelief? --but in point of fact Gregor can't quite go without comment entirely. ] Then you're a step ahead of where I was when I arrived. You seem quite calm for the situation. That is, I assume that's a friend of yours on your shoulder and not a random teenager you decided to kidnap.

[ That's obviously a sarcastic joke, Gregor subtly fishing for further answers while attempting to lighten things. ]

[burningbothends]

[Roy snorts lightly.] No, this is my trouble-making subordinate. [Roy's tone sobers a little, dropping back to a more clipped cadence as the change in topic reminds him of the anger boiling just below the surface.]

Do you happen to know a medic who can take a look at him?

[There was no telling what he was injected with; Roy hadn't recognized the name when he demanded it. And even if it was just a tranquilizer... Had they bothered to account for Fullmetal's reduced body mass?]

[vorbarra]

[ As someone responsible for a number of lives himself (okay, so three planets' worth) Gregor recognizes that frustrated sense of responsibility and is immediately sympathetic. ]

I know several, who often treat my own trouble maker. [ Actually technically his subordinate as well, not that that ends up being relevant very often. ]

You'll be pleased to learn that along with improbable everything else, there's also improbable healing available. [ A careful sidelong look, though Gregor realizes a moment later that Mustang can't actually tell he's being evaluated and instantly feels uncomfortable taking advantage of that. He returns to watching where they're going. ]

[burningbothends]

[Greg doesn't have to be looking at Roy. His carefully composed tone is probably enough of a tip off to how eager the prospect makes him. He had been so close to having his eyesight restored. He'd take whatever he could from this place, his eyesight especially.]

I'd like to hear more about that later, if you don't mind.

[vorbarra]

[ It's certainly the case that the more neutral Gregor sounds, the more is behind it, but in this instance it's not hard to guess his motivation behind it and he's nowhere near cruel enough to leave him hanging.

He says promptly, ] I'll leave you a voice message with a list of names later. You're welcome to say I referred you; they all know me, and none of them appear to charge.

[burningbothends]

Thank you, that would be remarkably helpful. It almost sounds too good to be true.

[vorbarra]

I quite know what you mean, [ he agrees dryly. ] If you've any other pressing concerns, I can try to address them.

[burningbothends]

More than I can count. But once I get my subordinate settled, I'd be grateful if you could direct me where I can get a change of clothes. I can only imagine the looks I'm drawing.

[vorbarra]

Of course. That was a first order of business for me, too. I arrived in my House uniform-- not exactly casual.

We do get substantial leeway for being imPorts, but looking out of place tends to ensure you'll just get stopped for autographs.

[burningbothends]

'House' uniform...?

[He grimaces a little at the mention of autographs.]

Really... Quite a switch in terms of the attention I'm used to from the public.

[vorbarra]

House Vorthys. I'm from an upper class military caste.

[ Or that's the short version.

That's another curious thing to say. Gregor nudges on his arm to indicate they're turning down a side street. ] Not popular at home?

[burningbothends]

Comes with being a dog of the military.

[He says it airily enough.]

Military caste, hm. Curious. Is your country stratocratic as well?

[vorbarra]

[ A dog of the military, hm? Not a flattering or pleasant phrase, that. Gregor hopes none of his servicemen say that. ]

That wouldn't be an inaccurate word, though perhaps misleading. It's more of a feudal system-- I'm titled Lord Greg, for example-- but all Vor are expected to serve in the military. We consider ourselves soldiers rather than nobility, but things still inherit along familial lines.

[burningbothends]

[Though Greg hadn't given him a military rank. Doubtless a foreign military rank meant nothing here, but the omission was curious for a presumably life-long officer talking to another officer... Perhaps he'd just been here long enough to drop the habit. It would certainly take Roy a while.

A trained and armed upper class—that likely didn't bode well for the lower class, but Roy had too many problems with his own government to be casting stones. And more pressing concerns in general.]

I wouldn't mind hearing more about it later. For now, if you have any other information you'd find useful for a newcomer in this country, I'd be grateful to hear it.

[vorbarra]

[ Indicative of someone who'd served a couple years as formality, been allowed to do precisely nothing dangerous, and escaped back to his real rank of Emperor with the formality observed. Gregor would be embarrassed to claim a rank he feels he's barely earned, which would technically be something low like Lieutenant, though no one had ever quite managed to call him Lieutenant Barra as they technically should've, rather than sire.

He's more than happy to leave that topic aside for now. ] Of course. The first thing I should brief you on is the war. You've arrived in a sort of intermission period for it; a month prior we suffered an occupation by Soviet forces, but they were driven out before your batch of arrivals.

[ Gregor sounds calm, even matter of fact about this. Barrayaran sensibilities about matters of war. ]

[burningbothends]

[Roy's expression goes grim, his mouth set in a thin, unhappy line.]

So participation in the war is less optional than we've been led to believe.

[vorbarra]

[ Gregor clarifies, ] Sort of. Participation as a combatant is still entirely voluntary. Whether you can live in a nation at war and not be touched by it is, well, impossible, despite other imPorts occasionally deluding themselves otherwise.

[ His voice goes dry by the end. Gregor's gotten a little sick of that argument. ]

[burningbothends]

No-one who's lived through a war would believe that. I take it the 'Porter' isn't always conveniently pulling soldiers.

[vorbarra]

You'd be entirely correct. It isn't age discriminatory, either-- your subordinate is far from the youngest-looking I've seen. One of the things that lends credence to the story that they aren't in control of the Porter's actions.

[burningbothends]

[Of course. Worse and worse... Roy didn't know what to believe quite yet. His own country had orchestrated centuries's worth of massacres under the direction of one man. Nothing was beyond the pale, not even a country that would willfully create child soldiers (Another thing Amestris didn't take much issue with.)

He restlessly shifts Fullmetal's weight on his shoulder, wincing as it jostles his bruises. Greg can probably feel that, and the thrumming tension running through him.]

What incredibly obnoxious timing... Let me guess. Destroying the Porter is out of the question, because it's our only way home.

[vorbarra]

[ He glances over, assessing, but answers this first. ] That, and the Porter itself doesn't take kindly to interference. It has something of a sentience behind it; I'm not sure of the details. Things have been hectic since my arrival, to say the least.

[ Gregor pauses noticeably, then says frankly, ] Should you be carrying him with your injuries?

[burningbothends]

I've been dealing with this brat for years; I'm used to the weight.

[Even if Edward was a little heavier than the last time Roy saw him. And then, more practically, he adds:]

I'm not as bad off as I look, anyway.

[Yes you are Roy.]