etcelsior | WAKE UP IN THE MORNING FEELING LIKE

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WAKE UP IN THE MORNING FEELING LIKE

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 there's only one rule in Test Drive Meme Club: 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, while others might not say anything -- but if you have something nasty to say, better not say anything at all, right? But on closer inspection of these Silent Stanleys and Stellas, you might notice that some people actually back away from any imPort who quite obviously looks like they aren't "from around the neighborhood". Once in a while, you may hear a voice raised:

"Did you see how visible their elections have become? They're just trying to grab power! Have you seen the homes they live in?

Of course, for every claim, there's a rebuttal; you may well hear a competing voice arguing, "They deserve to have a say in things too! You know it's different for them!"

ImPorts are a divisive issues, even in pretty Heropa.

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 very presence. Look at you! Organic wonder! 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. The imPort craze is at an all-time high, and considering the ambition of many of De Chima's residents, you may find yourself cornered by overzealous imPort fans, media wannabes and opportunists alike, shoving cameras in your face.

Their questions are less politically charged than they are mundane, however; get ready for an interview about your taste in romantic partners, personal underwear choices, favourite foods, and more!

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 bound to find a few people who decide that the only proper welcome for an imPort is a nice set of knuckles to the face.

One or two more cowardly locals may hesitate before giving you such a greeting, however, with a muttered, "Wonder if the new guy in office is gonna do more than the last one."

Ouch. Look at the political savvy on this guy!

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. You may find yourself in the midst of a few closed-off streets for some occasion or another - whether it be a food cart festival, no-car day, or something else! - and surrounded by the hum of people, the waft of food being served on the street, and plenty of attention

Look there -- someone's demoing a VR roller coaster! Won't you give it a shot?

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De Chima
[ Kurt doesn't exactly have his gift of gab up and running when he first encounters one of De Chima's enthusiastic residents. It takes a little back-and-forth before he's able to relax into the attention. It's clear that his questions are not answerable and that this is a relatively friendly environment, so why not ham it up a bit? Soon enough he's moving with a little extra flourish and smoothly tucking jokes into his answers. Once the performer in him is roused, acting a certain part is easy enough.

It has a certain self life, however. Several conversations and demonstrations into the evening, the mass of silly questions and picture-takers begins to feel tiring. Excusing himself and making his way elsewhere proves slightly difficult, however, given his obvious status as something new and different. He tries to keep up with his manners, of course, but he can't help but to eventually mutter to the closest, calmest person. ]

Well, this place certainly is enthusiastic, isn't it?

Maurtia Falls
i. Bar Buddies
[ A drink seems like a very promising prospect after a journey to a new world and a rainy day full of sideways looks. Not knowing the area, he has to contend with the first place he comes across. It's not such a difficult task. An unfamiliar bar is still a bar. The basics don't vary all that much.

In Maurtia Falls, he's under the impression that discretion is an advisable path. Down to his posture, regrettably familiar, he tries not to bring attention to himself. He keeps his head and talk down, acts cordial, and sits at the edge of the bar. His status as an imPort is obvious, but he's not here looking for trouble. He just wants to have a couple of drinks and, if he's lucky, entertain a friendly conversation or two. ]

ii. Brawl Buddies
[ Of course, a quiet evening cannot always remain that way. After a remarkably short confrontation, Kurt finds himself dodging a punch by way of teleporting from his bar stool. Of course, it's all downhill from there. His initial aggressor has many friends, it seems, and Kurt has none.

That's not to say he doesn't have certain advantages. His agility and training leave him equipped enough to avoid and immediate trouncing, and he can make eventual work of his aggressors. Most assuredly! However... He wouldn't say no to a little help!

The bouncer seems a little laissez-faire about this whole thing, after all. ]

Edited 2016-06-25 22:05 (UTC)

[ Surprise, one of the aggressors gets a laser to the stomach. Low impact, of course, but enough to take him out of the equation. From her table, Alison gives Kurt a wide grin and blows some imaginary smoke off her finger guns. ]

Out of all the bars in all the alternate universes, I run into you!

[ Of course, she's run into Nightcrawler in a bar fight. But hey, Alison's resigned herself to the fact that she's never going to have a quiet life and Kurt's a good enough bud that she'll help him out in said bar fight. So, as one of the aggressors decides that Alison would be a good person to punch, she tries to weave out of the way. ]

Ach, Alison! Be still, my beating heart!

[ Beating the heck outta this guy, that is! He delivers the line even as he lunges for the man who's decided to go after Ali. The brute misses his first swing and draws back for another, but Kurt catches him by the wrist and practically slides into him, pulling to redistribute weight and flip the other man. A beautiful move, indeed, if he could say so himself. ]

That was a half inch from Casablanca. [ Duck, elbow to another brawler's face. ] Intentional or not, I applaud you.

[ Alison absorbs the noise from whatever the ambient bar music is before sending out a wave of blinding light in front of the person trying to punch her. He stumbles back before Alison finger-guns a laser into his stomach, pushing him back into the wall. ]

Here's looking at you, Kurt. [ griiiiin ] Better?

Much. [ He's a sucker for the classics. And for fight-time banter. He flashes his own quick grin before he moves to swipe the legs out of the man he'd just knocked in the face. He's a rather hefty fellow, and the thud of him hitting the ground is substantial.

Given the lasers and everything, there's a lull in the skirmish. The other bar patrons seem as though they're seriously considering whether to continue their crusade. ]

Will that be all, gentlemen? [ Anybody? No? Kurt takes his eyes off of them somewhat warily to address Alison. ] Shall we find a kinder bar?

[ Alison's still keeping her eyes on the men as she walks over to Kurt, straight up doing a 'points to eyes, points to you' sort of gesture. She's a bit rusty on fight-time banter herself but hey, no need to mess with the classics.

At the question though, she nods, wrinkling her nose a little bit. ] Kinder and with better booze. This one's a little too beer heavy.

[ And while she's fine with beer...if a girl's got a choice, let's go for something a tad bit more fruity. ]

[ Too beer heavy?! Kurt lets slip a faux gasp, followed by an appropriate 'tsk!' ] Alison, you wound my patriotic sensibilities.

[ Germans and beer, right? ]

If we must, however... You know I can never resist the request of such a beautiful and charming woman. [ Even if it does mean fruity drinks.

He offers her his arm as he begins to side-step their disposed brutes on the way to the door. For their part, they look a little dazed and sullen. They should be glad to have their rudely-treated guests leave; they certainly are done putting up much of a fight about it. ]

Worry not, gentlemen. I shall not slander your fine establishment, nor will I be stepping foot in it again.

Au revoir!

[ The beginnings of a brawl have an immediate effect on the atmosphere, save for perhaps the bartender who has seen it all before, the jukebox thrumming out something with a country lurch, and one man in particular towards the back who entered not so long after Kurt Wagner and has done little more than quietly, slowly, nurse his beer. No one's approached him, and any accidental moments of eye contact when a patron makes his way to the john is brief, bland, unfriendly.

But now he is paying attention. The hand settled on his beer bottle settles flat, instead, on his table.

Fighting a teleporter must be like trying to punch phantoms. Someone swings a fist and hits only air, toppling them forward. Sylar observes from his corner: interested, impressed, entertained, even if his expression is a fixed, focus doggish mask. The impulse to interfere is there, and he may yet, soon enough, but for now-- ]

[ ooc ; i 100% do not have relevant/any icons yet, so forgive my lack of appropriate face squares! ]

[ He's got a little space around him for a moment. Most of the aggressors are sitting back on their haunches, trying to sum Kurt up after the initial tussle. When one finally lunged experimentally at him, Kurt counters fluidly enough. He's able to get the thug's hand twisted behind his back, and he turns and shoves.

Unfortunately, the bulky bully knocks squarely into the table of another patron, who really just seems content to keep to himself regardless of any commotion in the establishment. He doesn't stay there long, though, cursing and snarling and turning to run back into the fight.

Kurt calls to the seated man over the din. ] Sorry! If I spilled your beer, I will buy you another!

[ You know, when he's not busy anymore. ]

[ Beer spills, froths, drips, and Sylar jerks back in his seat to avoid the splash, hands raised, and lifts an eyebrow upon being spoken to. Kurt's words don't seem to make a mark, not even one of amusement, Sylar sitting impassive as an audience goer. At least, until he sees someone moving in at Kurt's blindspot, hands out to grab.

And he decides he's seen enough.

His fingers twitch, and the man veers to one side as if picked up by some invisible hand by the scruff and flung into the nearest set of tables and chairs with a noisy clatter. There's a ripple of unease at yet another (as yet unknown) variable entered into the equation, and Sylar gets to his feet. ]

[ Kurt pauses in that ripple with the rest of them. Automatically, he looks around for another combatant, and then for some obvious sign of a mutant (or something like one). There's no superhero costuming or overdone posing, though. There's only the poor fellow with the spilled beer, now standing.

Kurt's still got ahold of someone by the shirtfront, and said individual flails again after a moment's pause, trying to get a hit in. It's not a terribly impressive hold, and Kurt simply teleports to the top of the bar and drops him. It's suitably disorienting, and it gives him time to address his supposed ally. ]

Telekinesis?

[ Rounding his table, Sylar is still more preoccupied with what Kurt is doing over anyone else in the bar, including the man still wheezing from being driven gut first into bar furniture. He tracks that disappearance and reappearance with a wolfish twitch of attention, and then the thump of a flailing human hitting the ground.

Kurt snags back Sylar's attention with that query. Well, someone's genre savvy. ]

That's right.

[ He doesn't look like much, save for having a bit of height going for him, and the fact his face looks like someone took a normal human face and then bolded and underlined it. Black coat, grey sweater, nice shoes. He lifts a hand, and with two pointed fingers, summons three heavy bottles of liquor, cartwheeling them off the shelf and slamming into the heads of the most likely looking ne'er'-do-wells, striking one of them as intended while the other two duck out of the way.

Glass shatters, and the room smells even more alcoholic than it did before. This makes the bartender yell in objection, just as the man Sylar had been ignoring, to his left, pushes aside the table and launches at him in a tackle. ]

[ Said tackle is thwarted easily enough, of course. Kurt disappeared once more and reappears by the would-be feller, springing from a billow of deliver a decisive kick. The other man is knocked sideways onto the floor, among the spilled liquid and broken glass.

My, it's gotten quite untidy in here, hasn't it?

Kurt stands after landing, pivoting to look around for the next aggressor, stance at the ready. ]

Will that be all? Or have you fellows by now surmised that you cannot win?

[ Of course, they could be armed Kurt is half waiting for it. He's poised to jaunt again, even while he keeps up the light banter. ]

I hope you all have learned a lesson about picking your battles. If you found me so unbearable, you might have simply said so.

That would suggest a capacity for higher levels of thinking.

[ Sylar's voice is dry with disdain, and a hand goes out, splayed fingered, towards the glass shards of the broken bottles scattered in liquor on the floor. They skitter on his command, an off-key musical sound, and then silence as they rise, dripping and glistening and sharp, of course. Hovering, they make for a silent threat as Sylar skims the faces pointed in their direction, a satellite configuration reflecting--

Mostly wariness, at this point. Some back off a step or two like dogs with a newspaper waved at their noses, while others seem more likely to trigger in further violence when confronted with it in turn.

Sylar gestures. The glass moves as quick as a school of fish, collecting together, landing on the approximate location of a dust tray in the corner. ]

I guess they catch on after all. [ Now, he glances sidelong at Kurt, a look up and down. ]

Edited 2016-06-28 11:57 (UTC)

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themisfit - 2016-07-01 05:17 (UTC) - Expand

[unfortunately for Kurt, the closest, calmest person he mutters to is perhaps the last person you want to start talking to when you want to escape invasive, annoying questions.

but to be fair, Isabela is lounging outside at a cafe wearing a ridiculously large feathery pirate hat that covers much of her face. her outfit is different too; she's wearing a coat. and pants.]

Hmm...I don't know, Blue. It's been a bit disappointing, really. They certainly could be a bit more creative in their questions.

[she tips her hat up at Kurt, winking.]

I can think of a few.

[ Really, the pirate hat (impressive as it is) should have functioned as some sort of red flag. World-hopping like this is a strange thing, no matter his familiarity with it. The wealth of information taking away and returned makes plenty of things very muddled. It takes a moment for everything to add up properly. The voice, the easy nick-name, the playful expression and the general air of mythic piracy...

Isabela! He almost exclaims it. The start of that is on his face for a moment before his expression shifts to something between easy joy and admonition. ]

I hesitate to think of what you might ask.

[she leans forward, elbows on the table and chin resting on her folded hands, thoughtful for a moment or two.

There's no need to imagine what she'd say, when she'll probably just ask it anyway.]

Well. I never did find out if you were entirely blue.

Ach. I'm still confused as to the mystery of that. What else would I be? [ Why would anybody assume another color, having gotten a look at his basic structure? Of course, he knows that she's only teasing. His own question, in fact, is not entirely serious.

The problem with that, of course, is that Isabela could probably churn out many dreadful answers in short order. He tries to nip that in the bud by quickly asking another question. ]

May I sit?

I don't know. Pink?

[Leave it to Isabela to slip one in before the subject changes. And Maker, she did have plenty of responses up her sleeve...each as colourful as the last.

She un-props her feet from the chair across from her that she was using as a leg rest, making a rather grandiose gesture towards it.]

By all means. I'll even order you a drink, put it on my tab.

[Isabela it's.....a cafe.]

[ He'll pointedly ignore that response, too, although he'll happily acknowledge the offered seat. The elaborate acting earns an easy grin, and he inclines his head and shoulders in a shallow bow before he sits.

Tabs, though... Kurt looks up and around, searching out appropriate signage. ] This is just a cafe, is it not?

I suppose an iced tea would be lovely, if you really wouldn't mind.

[ Slap. The sound was loud enough to cut through some of the background noise of the bar. A yelp immediately followed after it. ]

No, wai- [ And then the sound of a liquid splashing against someone. Alistair spat out some of the beer that had ended up in his mouth when it had been thrown against him. ]

A simple "No, thank you," would have sufficed. [ Alistair made his way over toward the bar with his tail between his legs, grumbling as he pressed his head against his hands. He was vaguely aware of someone sitting next to him. ]

Before you ask- flirting does not apparently translate well between my world and here. [ Or maybe Alistair just sucked at it. ]

Edited 2016-06-26 04:58 (UTC)

[ Another off-worlder? Maybe that does explain the disastrous strike-out. Then again, though, maybe not. Kurt can't help the amused smile that creeps up at what an outlandish reaction the fellow had gotten. ]

What on Earth did you say to her?

[ Alistair let his head sink a little between his arms. He didn't even say anything when the bartender tossed a towel over his head so that he could clean up and avoid dripping beer onto the bar. ]

I don't suppose you know what a "halla" is, do you? [ He reached for the towel as he sat up and proceeded to dry off his face. He was already starting to stink a little from the beer; he might as well not end up somewhat sticky too. ]

Four legs - graceful, mind you - powerful- er, horns... [ He stopped mid-scrub of his face, reliving his realization that he had flubbed when he was forced to explain it the first time. ] Anyway, where I'm from, being compared to one's a fine compliment.

I am not sure many here would know what that is. [ Something akin to a gazelle, perhaps? That's the first thing that comes to Kurt's mind, at very least, which... Perhaps it's possible to make some sort of flattering comparison, but it's most likely the sort of thing that you ought not attempt. ]

Either way, my friend, you'll likely find here that comparison to animals is not a reliable tactic.

[ For a man who doesn't drink, it's funny how often Ben ends up in bars. During a downpour, though, a guy can't be too picky about where to stay dry — so here is. Sitting a few stools away. Hoping that the bartender won't give him too much hassle for his order. ]

I'll have a club soda with lime, please.

[ He gets a derisive snort in return. But, hey, at least the guy still agreed to serve. While he's waiting, his eyes scan the crowd, going wide when he spots – not a familiar face, exactly, but someone he's crossed paths with.

When he's... not wearing a baseball cap and bargain bin clothes.

It takes him a moment before Ben realizes he looks like all the other jerks staring at Kurt. Time to flash his most apologetic smile. ]

Sorry. Didn't mean to– just thought you looked fam–

[ Wait, no. That might not be the best thing to say. Not here. Or ever. Just because he didn't have much of an "identity" didn't mean he stopped trying to keep it secret. ]

Er, never mind. Name's Ben.

[ Sidelong glance at some of the... less polite people around, shall we say. ]

I could talk to them. If you like. I was a bouncer for, like... five minutes. I can pretend to be tough.

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WAKE UP IN THE MORNING FEELING LIKE

Kurt "Nightcrawer" Wagner | Marvel 616

maurtia falls 2, let's punch stuff

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Maurtia Falls (ii).

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de chima

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Maurtia Falls - i.

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maurtia falls, i.