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

[shipmaster]

Oh, trust me. Those dead are mine. My men, my command and my blood. I let you lead them into hell.

[They lean forward, fingers pressed hard enough into the table that red and white tagged bones and pressure points.]

But I can be angry at you for not having the first damn idea of what you were doing in there. We did our jobs.

[jacksonian]

I -

[ Mark's gaze drops again. He glares miserably down at the table. He wants to snarl back at him - you know who I am, you know I'm not Miles. What stops him isn't the self-pitying self-righteousness of it, but the sting of the fact that that's true. I'm not Miles. He screwed it up, because he wasn't Miles.

He mumbles: ]

I wouldn't have gone in without a plan.

[shipmaster]

[The snarl was cut short as one of the servers appears at the table, and Bel has to pretend at being civilized for a moment as the salad and steak are put down.

Like all things that have to have a second start, it's a little more subdued.]

You came onboard with some solid holomaps of the facility. Taura and I worked out the drop plan and exit strategy, you were supposed to handle the kids.

[jacksonian]

I know they suspect what's going on.

[ He looks up, his expression hollow and miserable. ]

They suspected. In my creche.

[shipmaster]

[Past tense. Bel's lips flatten into a line, a certain anger reflect away from Mark.]

One knew and didn't care. It's how we got as screwed as we did so fast. God, I hope I get to firebomb it this goddamn time.

[jacksonian]

[ Didn't care. He huddles in on himself in sheer misery. Knew and didn't care... ]

Mine...cared. They - wanted other lives. [ His arms wrap around his torso. Those had been his. He'd taught them to read, shared all his knowledge about the outside world with them. Had that been why they'd wanted more from life? Not that it had gotten him anywhere. All dead by now, all of them. Fuck. He feels like he's going to be sick, right here, on the dining room table. ]

Sorry.

[ He doesn't know what he's apologizing for. ]

[shipmaster]

[The Betan looks down. they have to look down. They can't watch that. Bel stabs their fork into the salad a few times.]

Don't.

... The mission was good. I'd do it again. [A crouton gets snapped in half.] With a different plan, but I'd do it again.

[jacksonian]

[ Mark just stares morosely at his food. Slowly, mechanically, he picks up his fork and starts to eat - less because he's hungry, or he wants to taste it, than he just wants the comfort of fullness. Finally: ]

People don't usually care about them. Even Betans.

[shipmaster]

I do. God, that place. I could-! [They snap their mouth closed, then determinedly picks up a forkful of salad and eats it first. When they continue, it's on an entirely different track.] Most Betans don't leave home. They're removed from actually looking at anything in the face. Say, "that's horrible" to the news, maybe answer a poll as "outraged" and go back to complaining about taxes.

[jacksonian]

[ He doesn't look up at Thorne. He stabs angrily at his meat, instead, and says - ]

Someone should shove it in their faces. If we could have gotten those kids to Beta, put in an asylum application - I bet Bharaputra would have been desperate enough over the loss of profits to try to go after them, and then they couldn't ignore it, could they...

[shipmaster]

[On the other hand, Bel gives an edged smile at that and a bark of laughter.] You were planning on Escobar. [They wave a hand, vaguely.] Or, at least that was what you told me.

Beta Colony would have been amazing too. You'd have to make sure you had a reporter at the bay so that the politicians couldn't hush it up. It would tangle in immigration for ages. I'd love to watch that one.

[jacksonian]

[ Mark looks up at them. He doesn't smile. His face looks desolate, instead, unhappy. Sure, yeah. Of course his other future self would think the same way. But fail. I fail...

Still, he's encouraged by Thorne's malicious humor. And his clear will to help. ]

I'm...trying here to...figure something out. Something that'll make the brain-transplant business obsolete.

[shipmaster]

Like 'Rejuvenation Therapy'?

[The sardonic edge ebbs immediately after into something thoughtful.] Here's the place to find it, I guess.

[jacksonian]

[ There's just a small squint of confusion; the reference, of course, is lost on him. He shakes his head immediately afterwards. He is, regrettably, deadly serious when he says: ]

Like trading your soul for immortality. That's the best prospect, since I doubt that's anything that any Baron of a House Major or Minor would balk at.

[shipmaster]

[Sourly, they stab up more of the salad, and take a few moments to crunch it down. It WAS actually pretty good. (Just not an edible steak. Bastard)]

Ha. Only a Jacksonian Baron could try to trade off something they don't own for that kind of profit.

[jacksonian]

[ Agnostic Mark just grunts in acknowledgment of the (probably) theist Betan's musing about the soul. As far as he's concerned, at least in this context, the soul really is just a chit for bargaining. He doesn't care about it beyond that. ]

The problem with it, though, is that trading away your soul seems to freeze you at your current age. A lot of them would probably use at least one more clone to make themselves young again before making the deal.

[shipmaster]

Wait. You're serious.

[jacksonian]

[ Bluntly: ]

Yeah.

[shipmaster]

[God. Is that possible? WHY IS IT POSSIBLE?]

When you say immortal, are we talking unkillable too? Because I have some objections.

[jacksonian]

[ He looks down, shrugging a bit. ]

A Baron of a House Major is basically unkillable as it is now.

[shipmaster]

Other Barons disagree and dammit, so do I. Find something else, I don't want a world where they're the only cockroaches surviving the nuclears.

[jacksonian]

[ His lips draw back from his teeth in a sudden burst of hatred. ]

Really? Because I wouldn't mind a world where you could find a hole to bury them in and they wouldn't ever be able to die down there.

[ There are parts of Mark, after all, that have really absorbed those lessons on being Barrayaran. ]

[shipmaster]

Oh. [The smile that rippled across the herm's face was in no way pleasant.] Oh. That's truly nasty.

[jacksonian]

Nothing they haven't earned.

[ Mark is ignoring his food for the moment, focused on a different sort of nourishment. ]

They don't even consider that immortality leaves them vulnerable in other ways. And there's no Dealing your way out of that.

[shipmaster]

But immune to a lot of the usual. I mean, if you were only eying one Baron, that's something.

[They turn back to their salad.] Artful even. But anyone rich enough to buy it? Nah. Not thought out.