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etcelsior2016-04-23 05:51 pm
maskormods) wrote in etcelsior2016-04-23 05:51 pm
Entry tags:
HE TOLD ME SEVERAL TIMES THAT HE DIDN'T LIKE MY KIND
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, deeply masculine 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!"
"That's just what Ronald Chump says!" Exclaims a young woman. She raises her fist in anger at the imPort-hating individual. "We're not going to tolerate bigots here!"
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. Science and technology are the lifeblood of this city, so you're likely to come across a good many locals taking your picture with the newest of devices. Be forewarned: since FanPort happened, imPort fandom is at a new height. Don't be surprised if people start following you just to see if you'll do anything TMZ-worthy.
The trick is to stay calm, and don't wig out if someone asks what you think about imPort shipping.
03. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania, is having a rainy day. The streets seem to be running with water, the sky can't seem to stop crying. You might want to check out some consumerism-inclined shelter, be that a smoky and dart-eyed bar full of grumbling locals, or a grimy and industrial coffee shop (full of grumbling locals). Watch your step, newly minted imPort, because if you let on that you're fresh meat then you're likely to attract a posse of two or three sharp knuckled no-good-dooers. This is the criminally exciting part of town, so beware.
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. There's a baseball game going on in one of the parks amidst all those tall buildings, and you're welcome to watch! It's not an official game in the season, it's more like a friendly skirmish between local baseball teams. Midway through the game, the umpire might take note of you new imPorts -- assuming you're standing out in the crowd. He'll welcome you to throw a pitch if you'd like! Of course, the opposing team isn't too keen on the idea. Better look for more imPorts to play ball!
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Truth be told, Dean wasn't really anticipating having to put up with this, but never let it be said that their lives played by any kind of rulebook. It still wasn't altogether surprising that Lucifer was enjoying this, no matter if it was meant to be dangled above his head or a shared, despicable intimacy.
Either way, Dean took a nonchalant sip, listening but in no way disagreeing as to the facts. Leave it to Lucifer to catch up quick, not that Dean had any reason to be steamed about it. ]
Sam's made it this far, figured i'd let him keep playing.
[ No sense beating around the bush, really. ]
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[ Lucifer's dismissive noise was ever so dismissive. He folded his arms across the counter in front of him, and hung his head slightly, watching the other people in the bar. They were all potential marks. He wondered how easy it would be to set them on Dean, see the Mark in action. He wanted to. Oh, he wanted to watch those eyes flick onyx black, it would just make his millennium.
He hummed, and tipped his head sideward, looking up at Dean again slantways. ]
It's not good for him. He's a grown adult, and you're still treating him like a child, palming him fifties under the monopoly board to keep him in the game. You pity him, but you can't possibly think that's any way to live.
You'll figure it out, I'm sure.
[ And when he finds out Sam is here... Oh, this is going to become The Plan. ]
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But it was hardly an easy thing.
Strumming his fingers on the countertop, Dean all but ducked his head to assess Lucifer, trying to see the wheels turning but not quite caring enough to figure it all out. Instead he shrugged, glancing out towards the rest of the bar in equal measure. ]
It's not like I don't have enough opportunity. I've got my place on Boardwalk and everyone else is just... dead broke.
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[ Lucifer allowed himself to be watched, considered. He had to admit he wondered what Dean's motivation was. Do as the Mark compelled him to, certainly, but what else? Guidance, in his new, difficult life? From him? Surely not.
But if so then it was an opportunity, and one that he wasn't going to shirk. Dean was influenced by the Mark, which meant he needed to satisfy it--it would calm his rage, and corrupt him further, all at once. ]
You'll have to tell me how you came by it, but for now-- [ He tipped his head. ] The drinks are on me. Is there anything - anyone - else that I can get for you?
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Crowley wanted a best friend for reasons unbeknownst to Dean, and while he was providing that in some measure of a fucked up way, this was different. Lucifer wasn't looking for the same thing.
So what was he looking for. ]
You're shitting me, right? [ It was a valid question, Lucifer was wrapping him up in bullshit and Dean was thinking he'd sniffed it out, the reek of it, even if the temptation to take him up on his offer was disturbingly strong. Anyone, get him anyone, and maybe he'd be good for another hour or two. ]
Or do you just treat all your good little Knight's like this.
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[ Lucifer flicked stood, and reached up, taking down a wine glass that was suspended in the rack above his head, and pouring himself a glass of whiskey from Dean's bottle. He settled back into his seat with it, humming to himself contentedly.
This was such an advantage. He just had to get it right. ]
You're a demon now, Dean. You have certain needs. No, more than that; you're a whole other breed of monster. You are strong enough to stand shoulder to shoulder against a seraph, a dozen demons, a room full of vampires. I have to say, I feel somewhat responsible. It is my Mark that you're wearing, after all.
What do you actually know about the Mark of Cain, Dean?
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[ Dean's gaze tracked along, lifting when Lucifer stood and then falling back down with him, absently sipping at his own whiskey. And even though he listened to the words being spoken in his direction, he still wanted to know what Lucifer was going to be getting out of this. What- his violent tendencies? A henchmen? Someone to act out his brutal needs when he pointed a finger?
Because that sure as shit wasn't going to happ--
But it'd be tempting, wouldn't it. Oh, so very tempting. An excuse, not that Lucifer had even said that was his plan yet, but it wasn't as if Dean needed much of a trip wire to get going. Even so, he played by his own rules, had his own games in mind, and wasn't overly interested in doing as others chose for him. It was a fine line though, and Dean was awfully close to slipping up in either direction. ]
Cain wasn't big on elaborating.
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He wouldn't have been. That's how Cain always was; he preferred to let people work things out for themselves. It was more entertaining, and he had the time.
Just as you do. Eternity, actually--so long as you keep that Mark on your arm. That's the deal. Stay here a moment.
[ Lucifer dropped his glass, then slid off the stool, stepping across the room toward a group of men sat around a table. He bent close, whispering something into the ear of the largest, most muscular man. He shot a glance at Dean, then turned to speak to his friends as Lucifer returned to his stool. ]
That was perhaps a little unfair of me. I'm sure you don't really think that "only pussies drink real ale".
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Dean slid the glass back onto the countertop and watched as Lucifer got up. It wasn't like Dean had been planning on running off, but now he was curious as to what exactly he was waiting for.
And he got his answer within moments.
Dean quirked an eyebrow as Lucifer stood straighter and smiled around his own crude words, watching the now exceedingly angry man stand up beside him, chair squealing loudly against the floor. A grin slipped into place along Dean's features and he lifted his glass in a silent cheer before he once again settled into place. There was no rush any longer, only the steady throb of an impending fight, something he had every intention of abusing now that it had begun. Who cared that Lucifer had started it, who fucking cared why or how or that it was happening here. It was happening at all and that was a thing he could depend on.
His blood was already boiling with the near rush of what was going to happen next and Dean slowly slid off his own bar stool, brushing his hands off with interest. ]
'Course I do.
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He turned ever so slightly, watching as the big man began to come toward them, his friends rising a little less certainly behind him and joining at their leader's heals. Lucifer always picked right.
So now here it came. This was how it was going to start, and Lucifer was going to get to see everything he'd been hoping to see; everything he'd wanted from the moment. Dean wanted it, too, and he could already see that - even if it wasn't gratitude that was on the surface - there was a certain amount of relief. Dean needed this, the Mark needed this. Lucifer doubted he'd kill them, but well. It would be interesting. ]
Hey, asshole. [ That was all the warning Thug Leader #1 gave before throwing his fist at Dean's face. So much for taking this outside. ]
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The men all but stormed their way on over and by the time they arrived, Dean's head was dropped low, ready for the first first swung out in his direction.
Tipping his head gunshot fast out of the way, Dean didn't particularly care about playing dirty when his first response was to lift a boot and ram his heel directly into the man's, well, delicates. It left him buckling forward, where it became that much easier to reel back a fist and aim it squarely for the man's nose, his left hook following suit and buckling the man sideways. It all blew up in an instant, Dean suddenly a flurry of activity as the man rampaged back at him, knocking him into the countertop where Dean only retaliated further, a knee into the gut and brutal swipes anywhere he could aim them, all with the intention of rendering the big guy useless, blowing him back incrementally until he was left a dizzying mess.
Dropping a hit into the back of his skull only knocked the man down further and Dean lost sight of holding back his punches, lifting the man by the collar and tossing him into a table of patrons that scattered desperately.
Really, this good.
Keep 'em comin. ]
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And what of his time in Hell? That must have corrupted him. Dean Winchester wasn't Heaven's Righteous Man, and he'd never been; he was Hell's. This just proved it.
Lucifer smiled, and reached across to draw the bottle of Johnny Walker closer to himself. It wouldn't do if the thing got smashed in the middle of the fight.
It was another second, maximum, before two more of the men came flying at Dean to take him on. One jumped on him, while the other tried to swing and punch at him. ]
My money's on my friend here, [ He remarked to the poor barmaid, who was struggling with her guilt at not being able to intervene, shouting at the men to stop fighting or take it outside. ] You're too slow. Much too slow. Pick it up, Dean. Faster. Stop thinking about it.
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Lucifer was no longer in his line of sight, bloodlust a thing that kept him honed in on only what was necessary, focus slipping but never quite going out of his control. His gaze darted one way and then the next, ignorantly watching a fist fly and counting no more than a second before he responded, his elbow wrenching one way to pop a man in the face before he was throwing his own weight around, trying to get the flailing man off of him.
So he needed to move faster. Alright. Fine. He could do that.
Puffing himself up with a breath, he bolstered himself back against the bar before hefting the man up and over, all but throwing him into the smaller one who was still trying to fling punches his way. The whole moment teetered precariously until Dean was back to firing off his own physical rounds, kicking knees out from underneath those coming towards him and wrapping heads up into hooks and jabs. Everything was dirty and punches were foul, knees to guts and kidney shots were aimed more than once, slipping out feet from underneath men who were too big to be able to control which way their weight went. Dean finally began to move the fight to the broader arena of the bar, twisting within it and taking the occasional clipped punch with the sort of fury only a man spurned onward could find.
Maybe it was just a little too much fun, but Dean was still waiting for them to drop like flies, only reigning himself in to the extent that he didn't have to kill anyone. Bottles were so close to his grip that it would be easy to break one and thrust it into bowels, but he was being good, restraining, only decking those under the chin that deserved the concussions they were being given.
He was allowed this. He needed it after all. ]
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Dean was rough, intent. He brawled with the men, and every time he took a blow it sped him up rather than slowing him down. He dug his heels in and became if anything more vicious, more determined, and it was everything beautiful that Cain had become, after he'd become a demon.
Lucifer let it go. His work really was done, all it had taken was the right comment to the right person, and the bar had fallen in on itself. Not really Dean's fault, it wasn't like he'd started it, or even thrown the first punch. ]
Behind you.
[ It wasn't much inflected. A man was throwing a bottle toward Dean's head. ]
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The only time he really remembered that Lucifer was there watching the show was when the blow from behind came slicing through the air, leaving Dean to dodge out of the way and knock into more men in the process. It was practically turning into a mosh pit of fists and stomped feet, aiming where he could and ducking out of the way with all the rest. Necks were wrung and used to fling people in another direction, bowling men out of the way and blowing out knees. At one point, Dean even shouted over the raucous, not so much using words as emphasizing his point of attack, dropping down low like a bull and shouldering his way through men.
Other patrons were finally skidding their way to freedom, booking it through the door as Dean took another clip to his cheekbone, a fist skidding across his face. ]
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Lucifer stood, the moment everything stilled, and called to the barmaid. ]
My friend and I will be buying everyone here a drink. [ He called out, louder: ] The next round is on me, so long as someone clears up this mess. Gentlemen? [ He tipped his head toward a group who had stayed out of the fight, and sure enough they set about dragging the unconscious men out and righting the tables that Dean had thrown about. The barmaid didn't even make a fuss about Dean leaving, but smiled at him, a little turned on, a little fearful, as she poured him another generous shot from his bottle, all but inviting him to stay.
It was immensely entertaining. ]
You'll be stronger once you learn how to use your telekinesis as well--assuming this place let you keep it.
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[ It was a 100% legitimate question, Dean trying to shake loose from the adrenaline pulsing through his system. He felt utterly high on it, blood pumping furiously, the rage quelled for the time being but still altogether vibrant. Just because he'd slammed his way through a fight didn't mean there weren't lasting effects from it, aching a bit but altogether inclined to jump off the nearest tall building simply because it felt like he could. There was nothing left to punch his way through, the men all giving him an amusingly wide berth, and Dean stretched out a bit, letting his back crunch loudly as he moved.
The woman behind the counter poured him another drink and Dean flashed her a vicious grin, something that now suddenly seemed to work on near all the ladies, something that oozed away when he looked back to Lucifer, confusion finally striking across his features. For all that Dean cared, they were the only two beings left in the bar and Dean ignored the others righting tables and setting things back into place, reaching behind himself to slide his glass closer. ]
Thought that only worked with the blade around.
[ Not that he was actually taking advice from Lucifer, but he was listening to a certain extent. It just didn't mean he was going to believe everything he had to say. Or was interested in it to begin with. ]
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[ That was...terrible, but also reassuring. One less thing in this world that could kill him--assuming he actually believed it, which he wasn't sure he did. He didn't expect Dean to confirm or deny, now that he'd asked, so he waved his hand, passing on the subject. ]
Nevermind. The thing about this place, which you'll learn soon enough, is that powers are manipulated and controlled here. If they want you to have telekinesis, then you'll have it. And if they don't--
[ Another wave of his hand. ] Mine, for example, is kaput. And I can't reorder time, or see the future, or boil your insides out with a look. But, well, I can still do this...
[ The row of lightbulbs above the bar suddenly explode in quick succession. The rest of the bar is still lit, but the archangel has made his point. ]
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Arching an eyebrow at the mention of abilities, Dean took the moment to knock back his shot, seemingly oblivious to the conversation until he was absolutely needed within it.
Though, the blasting lightbulbs got his attention enough so that he bowed his head from the spraying of glass, thankful that he at least didn't have to cover his now empty shot glass. Looking back up, Dean merely shot Lucifer an unimpressed look, because really, boiling people's insides was a far better example of power than that. Not that her really needed any furious examples of what Lucifer could do - he knew them well enough himself and didn't figure that he'd been truly well and neutered here. ]
How many devils does it take to burst a few lightbulbs, I get it. Funny.
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[ Honestly, it was all kinds of frustrating, but it had at the same time forced him to make better use of his other skills and powers; scheming and killing and making people regret wronging him simply by use of his mind. Sure, he'd been outmaneuvered once or twice, but he didn't need telekinesis to get back at them. Not when he had clones and magic and people crawling to owe him favors.
And now, if he played his cards right, he had a demon--and not just a demon, but a Knight of Hell. What better anesthetic to his frustrations?
Lucifer refilled their glasses again, content to keep pouring and keep Dean busy. He wasn't going to let him sit here stewing, there would be work to do, but everything that he did from this moment forward would be directed toward the further unwinding of Dean Winchester's humanity, and his already well-past-broken conscience. ]