Lies a place that few have seen.

[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 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? This month has been a rocky one, and locals are beginning to eye imPorts with renewed scrutiny; if people like them can get superpowers, are imPorts really that special, after all? Some people usher their children away from anyone clearly not 'from around here,' while other natives may be brave enough to directly approach obvious imPorts and ask their thoughts on the war with Russia and what the imPort ambassadors are planning to do about it.

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 you may find yourself cornered by overzealous imPort fans, media wannabes and opportunists alike, shoving cameras in your face.

Their questions are likely to be fairly mundane, however; get ready for an interview about your taste in romantic partners, personal underwear choices, favourite foods, and more!

Also, as the Halloween craze is reaching a fevered pitched, more and more children are running around in costumes of their favorite imPorts! Do you recognize any of these masks? Perhaps one of these costumes mimics YOU!?

...

Isn't that kinda creepy?

03. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania is populated by a whole lot of people who are having awfully bad days. With the emergence of locals with superpowers, many seem to have latched onto their new supercharged identities with an incredible amount of gusto. As your character walks down the street, they may find themselves accosted by a large man in his mid-20s, dressed in an ill-fitting spandex suit of orange and yellow. As he thrusts his finger into an imPort's face, the spandex rides up, turning into more of a crop-top, which he duly tugs back down before shouting, "You're not the special ones anymore, imPorts! Feel the wrath of Heartburn!"

Stupid name aside, he does seem to have superpowers as he breathes a large plume of fire. His aim still isn't great, though; it could hit the imPort in question, or be sent in the direction of a nearby local, or even a particularly flammable building.

What will you do, Hero?

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. This fine day, pumpkin spice seems to be in style, to the point at which you happen to be crashing an open pumpkin spice festival. From drinks to sweet treats to some other things that really, really shouldn't be pumpkin spice flavoured (pumpkin spice flavoured vodka, anyone? It tastes like regret!), everyone seems to be in the mood for the upcoming season.

Taste test a few samples and take in the hustle and bustle of the city, everyone! And hey, if just gorging yourself isn't enough, why not try your hand at the pumpkin carving contest going on? The competition is fierce!

Comments

[adhaerent]

[ his brows lift. ] And why is that?

[dendarii]

Because Da is telepathic here. With his liege-sworn.

[small_reservations]

Maybe they're trying to get information and getting people is a side effect.

[That's his last conspiracy theory for now, though.]

You've got a point there. Sorry for being all doom-and-gloom, it's just. Frustrating.

[He's spent his entire Nobody existence not being told anything. It's definitely frustrating that even being locked into a new world and injected with nanites hasn't changed that.]

[use_everything]

It's what's needed. [There's a wry quirk of the lips.]

I'd be a happier man today if I trusted anyone else to do it. [There's a long pause here, something about to be said and then aborted.] This timeline mess... I was about to brag to you, that you should meet them - what's come of it. Gregor and Miles. But you'd know them quite commonly, wouldn't you?

[adhaerent]

[ .. ah. hm. how to word this.. ]

Mostly through you, [ he admits after a moment, a little cautiously. ] I've met Miles a few times, though we haven't spoken much. Most of what I personally know of he and the emperor has come from what you and Lady Vorkosigan have told me.

[ he laces his fingers together around the strap of the bag. ] I do know that they're good men, though, and Miles is brilliant.

[use_everything]

[There is something off on the tempo of that. The cadence, really. Political? Some incident? Damn if he knew, though.

Still, a chance to brag about his son. Sons, honestly.]

It should be no surprise. That would be all his mother's side.

[adhaerent]

He has a fair amount of you in him, too, from what I can tell. [ a thoughtful pause, then with warm, dry amusement: ] Though he does seem to be very like his mother in personality.

[ he glances toward him with a small smile. ] I have to admit that I was rather amazed at his Admiral Naismith role.

[resipiscent]

No, I get it. They keep us in the dark about enough, it's natural to get frustrated.

[At least there aren't Heartless to deal with here, though that would be easier on the brain.]

I think you'll find, at least, you'll have more time to yourself compared to back in our universe. No shady objectives to work toward, unless you count whatever the government gets up to.

[use_everything]

Were you onboard for that mess? I'd dearly love to hear the straight story of it.

[adhaerent]

[ the amusement fades, his fingers tightening around the strap. ] I was, yes. I'd be glad to tell you anything that you'd like to know. You're right that it was quite a mess, though.

[use_everything]

I only know that he'd managed to pull it off and clear her name in time.

Jon Snow | ASOIAF/GOT

[song_of_ice]

De Chima, Virginia

[Adulation and attention was far from his experience. After years of having to endure "Lord Snow", "the bastard of Winter fell" and other such names, to suddenly be admired and revered left Jon reeling. Becoming Lord Commander had seemed a paltry matter compared to the crown that had been thrust upon him.

Yet being king was nothing like this.

He flinched every time someone wrapped an arm around him, steering him into position for another picture. The questions came in a rush, things that no one should ask unless they were close friends.

What he slept in (why?), his love life (non existent), what he wore beneath his breeches (really?!), and whether or not he'd give a "personalized voicemail" for a friend.

It was only when he managed to pull away from the masses that he could see the other disturbing reality of this place. There were children dressed as him, playing at his life, wearing black and swinging toy swords.

He almost preferred being king to this madness.

Ducking in a nearby alley, Jon waited for a group of fans to pass him without notice before attempting to escape to safety and quiet. It was only when he tried to grab a stopped cab that he nearly collided with another person.]

Sorry. [He quickly checked over his shoulder. Still no sign of those crazed followers.] Would you mind if I took this one?


Nonah, North Carolina

[It seemed a great waste to use pumpkins for more than food. After hard years at the Wall and the hard lesson of rationing food, Jon could only stand in the middle of the festival, staring at carved faces on the pumpkins. He was baffled, but compared to the strangeness of this world as a whole, it seemed more ridiculous than horrifying.

Someone had pushed a cup of something warm in Jon's hands. The sharp scent of chocolate and pumpkin hit him sharply, causing his stomach to lurch. No. As much as he tried to keep an open mind about this other world, there were some things he wasn't willing to try.

He held it out to someone pushing past him and through the crowd.]

I don't suppose you want this? [Whatever it was.]


Wildcard

[Feel free to think of your own prompt!]

De Chima. HEY THERE JON

[reek]

[ Theon is dressed rather differenly now. After a month in the modern world, he's adapted...well, he's working on it. He whips around, looking irritable and ready to fight, until he's met with a very familiar face. ]

Snow?

[ For just a moment, a flash of fear and grief cross Theon's face, but these emotions are quickly masked. In the blink of an eye, his expression changes, his mouth twisting into something between a smirk and a sneer. It's the same expression that he's worn for the last ten years in regards to Jon Snow. That grief is still lurking there beneath the surface, dulling the glint in his eye, but he's done a relatively good job of burying it. ]

As a matter of fact, I would mind, but the right price can change that. [ He leans against the cab, clearly unconcerned by the driver's schedule, looking amused. ] Why are you in such a hurry?

Baby fight in 3...2...1

[song_of_ice]

[He doesn't know what to react to first. The fact that Greyjoy is here, the bizarre and hideous garments he's wearing or that insufferable smirk that always got under Jon's skin. It takes every ounce of restraint to keep from lashing out and gripping Theon by the collar of his shirt and shoving him back against a wall.

That same rage that consumed him when he saw Ramsay's sadistic glee rises to the surface, leaving him wanting to do little else but let his fists fly and feel the gratification of releasing his anger.

But this wasn't the time. He glances over his shoulder once more, feeling the stares of passerbys. It wouldn't be long before he was recognized.]

I don't have time for you, Greyjoy. You really think I'm about to pay you for this...thing?

[He'd ask why Theon isn't getting swarmed by admirers, but Jon just assumes that they've met him.]

yesss babyfights

[reek]

[ Despite having a whole new world of fashion opened to him, Theon's old tastes haven't adjusted just yet. He always did have a fondness for the fine clothing of his own world. Pair that with the recent suggestion that jeans and t-shirts are always acceptable modern garb, and you get his current look.

He does have a few admirers, mainly teenage girls who fall for his looks or the bad boy archetype. In their eyes, he can do no wrong, but plenty of others feel differently. He isn't exactly what you'd call a hero. ]

It seems to me that you don't have time for much of anything. You're in a hurry, aren't you? [ His smile is easy and somehow, he manages to keep all tensity out of his body language. Jon should have received a raven by now. He should know what Theon's done, but Theon won't let his anxieties show. Not to Jon Snow of all people. ]

I don't see another cab. [ He gestures down the street, smirk still firmly in place. ] It looks like I'm your only hope.

/throws down gauntlet

[song_of_ice]

[For Jon, he had acclimated to new fashion as well as he did to armor of the Night's Watch. He stuck with his preferred color, shirt and jeans and left it at that. Somehow that managed to still be distinctive enough for children to mimic, much to his chagrin and embarrassment.

It still baffled Jon that Greyjoy had managed to impress any women, especially back in the North. Despite the fact that the girls loved Robb, Grejoy seemed to have more experience. Unless it was some puffed up pretense at making himself seem more of a man than he was. Jon honestly preferred to think it was the latter.

He more than knew, though he also had Sansa's word that Bran was still alive. Having seen Rickon, it had shown that Theon hadn't lied...to her at least. Whatever he might have done to save Sansa, it didn't erase his earlier actions or the way he had betrayed Robb.]

You mean like you were Robb's hope? I'd rather take my chances than trust you to be of any help.

I have had enough of cleaning up after your mistakes.

Man in Black | Westworld | SPOILER in white text

[blackhat]

MAURTIA FALLS:

Wrong place wrong time:

[ In most ages -- not just the modern one -- money is power, and the man in black is fresh out of both.

So this is a bank robbery.

The robber has spared everyone the theatrics of announcing as much, of course -- one security guard out cold on the floor and the other with his hands up at gunpoint. Old Billy has a bowie knife near long as his forearm hooked in against someone’s neck with his other hand -- maybe it’s yours -- watching from behind while the teller fumbles cash into a bag. ]

Pick up the pace, sweetheart. [ His voice is like cracked leather through the bandanna he has knotted behind his ears, old lines seamed in deep around blue eyes squinting over the top of it. Black paisley matches the pitch of his cowboy hat, his gloves, his suit. It isn’t much of a disguise, but he doesn’t seem worried. Truth all told, he isn’t paying all that close attention to his hostage, either. ] My knife’s catchin’ a draft.

[ The edge of the blade nicks in when he shifts his weight, razor sharp. ]


Here to help:

[ He half turns when the door opens behind him a beat later, thumb cocked back over the hammer of his revolver. The mechanism clicks like a set of mouthparts in the sudden quiet of the lobby -- even the teller has frozen.

Awkward. ]

Deposit or withdrawal, [ he hazards, at length. ]

there is no need to be upset

[reek]

[ There's very little that can stop Theon Greyjoy from smirking, but the very mention of Robb seems to offer a hard enough blow. His expression falters, his mask melting away as he does exactly what Jon had to prevent himself from doing: he grabs the other man by his shirt collar and slams him against the side of the car while the driver pretends not to notice. ]

This from the bastard who was over one hundred leagues away.

[ His voice drips with rage, but something more like regret flickers behind his eyes. Jon clearly hit a sore spot, to make Theon lose his cool so quickly. ]

What do you know of any of it, Snow? What would you know of my decision?

[ After all, he thinks bitterly. You've always managed to belong. ]

You weren't there. You don't know what happened.

[maevelous]

[ Maeve is certainly no hero. How many times had she allowed Hector to walk into the saloon and make off with the goods? Countless. But she's also a busy woman. She has places to be and things to do and a goddamn check to cash. The man in black having his fun is cute and all, but she's heard this tune before. And isn't this supposed to be a new world full of new opportunities? ]

This is all good and fine, darling, but some of us don't have all day to wait around for a low life scoundrel who has to get his cheap thrills here because he can't get them somewhere else.

[ Implied sexual insult. Implied Maeve giving no fucks as she talks to the back of the man's head -- his face unseen to her. ]

[blackhat]

[ Routine a shakedown as this is, there’s something strangely out of tune in the way the man in black’s ear turns to the sound of Maeve’s voice behind him. Like a vulture resettling in his feathers, he shifts his grip and his stance, that much more attentive to the onlookers he can see. ]

‘Cheap thrills,’ [ he echoes, capped with a flat nod and a: ] Tie that off, [ to the teller. Rather than turn around, he hunts out his own reflection in the glass of the storefront sidelong, along with the reflection of anyone who looks like they might be working up the courage to make trouble behind him. ]

This is hardly the time or the place for an advertisement.

[slightlyoffchilt]

[Deep enough of a nick to draw blood. Just a droplet, not even a satisfying trickle, but Frederick Chilton did not like the whisper of yet another scar carved into his routinely brutalized flesh. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, hoping to bite back that whimper that threatened to crawl out of the depth of his throat.

And in the absence of prayer, he thought. Quickly. The thief wore gloves and had Chilton at an angle that didn't favor the doctor's own hands -- no use in conjuring a sedative, no hope in grabbing a piece of skin exposed to his element.

He knew his collar was stained. Red that would darken to brown, ruining an inoffensive blue. Raina had picked out this shirt. He knew this bank was located off a busy street and adjacent to a full parking lot, one crawling with a pick of cars, just has he knew the traffic would delay any swifter police response and the parking lot made it difficult to engage alternative routes. Perhaps the thief had even calculated upon that.]

I can't -- [Chilton opened his eyes.] I cannot be held responsible.

[He had a second power. A sort of telekinesis over certain kind of machines: transport technology. Psychic Vehicular Driving. And that was why a black Cadillac Escalade slammed at illegal speeds into reinforced glass doors, that was why over 5,000 pounds of steel met with crushing concrete, that was why the bank shuddered with a sudden and inexplicable force.

Chilton had hoped to drop to his knees and crawl away in any confusion that he inspired. He had hoped to escape responsibility.]

[maevelous]

[ In this modern world where prostitution is illegal, you would think Maeve would shy away from making a mention of it. But instead, it's a part of her identity as an imPort. This is the role she had been programmed to play, and in a world where people are out of place and time -- it's one that won't raise as many questions as Maeve trying to assimilate into a modern society. She's still trying her damnedest to pass as a human, and part of that task is being convincing as one.

Her hand claims the side of her hip and she appears so entirely unimpressed. ]

Even whores have standards. None of which the likes of you live up to.

[ She glances him up and down before her attention veers toward that window. And that's when she sees it. His reflection. His face. Maeve's attention immediately snaps to his back. And. Glitching. Glitching.

Her daughter. The field. The Man in Black entering her home. Maeve taking the knife from her stomach and...

Back to reality, Maeve has a knife in hand that she kept tucked away beneath her skirt. And the attack is a wild slash at his back. Some might think she's trying to be the hero here. But for a moment, she was only lost in a dream. And now that she's back to reality, Maeve feels a bit disoriented -- but at least the target is the intended target. And an asshole. ]

[blackhat]

[ Reinforced or no, glass explodes inward in a million polished pieces, crashing over the floor in a blue-green wave. Shrapnel comes with it, along with smoke -- the fire alarm sounds, old-fashioned, bell like a jackhammer. A couple of patrons lurch out through an emergency exit with the security guard. The teller trips the hold up switch and makes a break for the back.

In all the chaos, escape comes easy, at first. It’s like the man in black has vanished into thin air. No more knife, no more gun -- no shadow looming at Chilton’s heels

Instead, a column of smoke plunges up from the floor at the good doctor’s fingertips, black as pitch, to resolve itself into the robber, blade, bandanna and all. For an instant, his eyes burn like embers in the thick of it -- then he’s real, hale and whole and human, with sparks curling round the crunch of his boots against broken glass.

Gun at his side, he cocks the hammer back clickety-clack. ]

Didn't catch that last part, [ he says, voice raised to rake in under the racket of the bell. ] Something about being 'held responsible.'

[ There are others still cornered inside -- huddled near the walls. This is just Frederick's luck. ]

[blackhat]

I guarantee that’s a lie, [ lobbed back half-hearted-like for the benefit of his hostage on the subject of whores and standards, the man in black shifts over into a grunted, ] Shit, [ when Maeve meets his eyes in the glass and goes fugue.

He’s kind enough to dump his hostage aside before the madame swoops for him.

The end of her knife never catches in back of his suit. It carves through a black column of smoke mounted up into the shape of a man, her arm churning through smog rich and black as the felt of his hat.

He turns headlong into the attack, plunging against her, around her, sooty warm with a stench to match and not even halfway to fully re-formed before he returns the favor with a vicious slash for her neck.

One of the captives in the bank fumbles out a recording device.

ImPort fight!! ]

[good_enough]

[ It's always men with knives, isn't it? Blood wells up to wet the tip of the blade as Claire trembles ever so slightly. (It's hard not to picture the last man who'd gone after her with a knife - left all those scars across her face --)

She fists her hands in the tails of her doctor's coat as she walks. Trying to keep the tremble out of her voice and failing. ]

Isn't this a little old-fashioned?