etcelsior | Lies a place that few have seen.

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test drive

Lies a place that few have seen.

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( any city )
[ oliver jole is not a man that's content to treat this like a break or a vacation. he's been brought here by unfamiliar technology, separated from his world and his people and his obligations (not to mention his loved ones-- he's trying not to think about that), handed strange abilities, and everything about this government and its offer and request is suspicious.

it had taken a day to settle in and familiarize himself--not to mention get over the shock--but that's all he'd allowed himself. being well-informed and efficient is part of his nature, really, and he's been taught by the best. to that effect, he's been to the library, the town welcome center, the closest museum, and the nearby university. at this very moment, though, he's in a coffee-shop, a bag practically spilling reading materials over his shoulder, a book in his arm, and his free hand trying to keep from burning himself with the paper cup held carefully between his fingers.

a woman cuts him off as he heads toward a seat, though, and he jerks back to avoid running into her. hot coffee spills over his fingers, earning a hiss, and he bumps into-- someone. immediately apologetic despite the burn, he turns with an embarrassed smile. ] I'm sorry, are you alright--? I'm not usually so clumsy. [ he could almost be a local if not for the numeric tattoo apparent on his wrist. and a good thing he's an import, too, because that accent probably isn't too welcome in this part of the world. ]

( network )
[ the fellow in the video is young--late twenties, maybe?--and almost startlingly attractive, like a recruiting poster for the military or something. definitely for the military, given that rod-straight spine and disciplined expression. still, he offers a small, warm smile once he's certain he's recording. ]

Good afternoon. [ yeah, he should sound a little familiar to some even if he doesn't necessarily look familiar. ] I had several questions, if you will. I've done a little research-- [ he's been checking through the network, that is. ] --but I could use suggestions on how best to learn to control one's new.. abilities. What methods did the rest of you use?

Second.. [ here he hesitates, lips pressing briefly thin. ] I'm somewhat wasted at the job I was offered when I arrived here. However, I've heard of a security company run by imPorts.. the Dendarii, if I'm not mistaken? [ he's done his research. on the other hand, he's not entirely certain what the game is here, or if there's one at all-- he hasn't gone far enough back into the network just yet to tell. ] I think I'd be of better use there, if someone knows the easiest way to get in contact with the owners. Thank you for your time.

[The stranger takes a practiced step back, a moment to dryly overlook the impressive coffee splash over his own long coat as well.]

It's nothing. [The accent is similar, with a Vorkosigan twang to the English. But the voice is distinctive, that baritone rasp could really be only one person, even if the lines were gone from his face. His hair wasn't silvered at all, only a pinch of grey hinted at the change coming over that black hair. No knots in his finger joints from the soltoxin arthritis, and his expression was far less guarded, more animated than Jole likely had seen outside of the most private of venues.

For his part, Aral Vorkosigan merely raised a brow, the accent more than the offense giving him longer pause. Western? Rural for certain. But not someone he knew either.]

A newcomer, I assume.

[ he's embarrassed to say that it actually takes him a moment, the sight of aral so unexpected, so different, that his brain can't quite process it at first. but then the older man speaks, and jole sucks in a stunned breath, blue eyes going wide in his face. ]

Ar-- [ no. his teeth click shut on the name. think, oliver. he looks.. god, what, fifteen? twenty years younger? and given what he's heard of this place.. anyway, they're in public, even if this was the aral he knows, and he.. can't.

his hands are shaking, he realizes, and he has to set his coffee hastily down to keep from dropping it. ] .. Sir. [ despite himself, he feels colour flood his face. even in a strange version of earth with an aral that doesn't know him, whom he's just spilled coffee on, the man can make him a little weak in the knees. he clears his throat. ] Yes, Sir, I arrived yesterday. Lieutenant Oliver Jole. I-- [ he blinks, still struggling with the shock. ] I-- I'm your secretary, actually.

[Sharp grey eyes seem to pin Jole in place, looking him over with a sudden, intense scrutiny.

It says a lot about Aral's stay and how much he's acclimated, that 'from another time period' is the simplest, easiest and first answer. Rather than some madness of fantasy or shoddy plot. The man in front of him was handsome, certainly, could have walked right out of the recruiting posters, without all of the makeup and effects wizardry that went into it. But that aborted first address...

Perhaps not. 'Are' is hardly exclusive when it comes to cut short questions. Reasonable, but it didn't quite quell the gut instinct that there's quite a bit here. He needs data.]

Jole. [He straightens a little and indicates the lightly abused paper cup.] Let me replace that for you.

[ no questions, no immediate suspicion-- jole's not much of a liar, of course, but it says something, he thinks, that aral simply accepts the explanation. at least, for the moment. how long has he been here--? are there others? he still has so much data he needs to go over, and he's barely begun to scratch the surface of the local network.

he straightens a little at the offer, and wry humor finally curls over his expressive mouth, eyes warming despite himself. ]

I should be buying you one, given the state of your coat. [ he doesn't protest otherwise, though, moving to toss the spoiled cup in a trash receptacle. he tucks the book in his arm away in his bag, cleaning his hands on a napkin, glance flicking over the room and then toward the door. ]

If you've no objection, perhaps we could take a walk after? I think there's a fair amount we should both know, Sir.

[Oh there were questions, all right. At the judicious suggestion, Aral inclined his head in agreement.]

I'm of a like mind.

[The lines were short enough that the coffee was easy enough to replace, a second cup brewed and claimed for Vorkosigan himself. If nothing else, the coffee here was worlds above the synth crap they have in the service. And a moment taken to mitigate the damage with a wade of napkins, perfunctorily. Well, he'd see it to cleaning, later.

It's not long until they're back out into the crisp Virginia winter air. It's a few blocks, the crowds ebbing from business to residential, before Aral quirks a look to the young - and taller (always taller) - man at his side.]

First, I'd like to know what the hell happened with Koudelka that needed a replacement.

[ he's grateful for the familiarity of aral's presence, and it's honestly fascinating to see how like he is to the older version of himself. how unlike, as well, because there's something more.. expressive about him. but then, he's still relatively young at this point, isn't he?

he pops the lid off his coffee as they walk, blowing across the top carefully. the demand earns a small, private smile. ] Nothing, Sir, only it's been quite some time since he moved on to broaden his career. [ he hesitates, pushing the lid back on, lips thinning thoughtfully. ] If I had to guess, I'd say there's about two decades between the two of us right now. Give or take a few years. You're in your mid-sixties as I know you.

[ god, this is.. hard. harder than he expected it to be, given what their relationship has been like. he was afraid he'd never see he and cordelia again, and now here's aral, but..

his brows pinch together, and he has to force his expression to smooth again. ] Emperor Gregor succeeded the throne. You're Prime Minister now.

[Mid sixties... Lieutenant Jole slotted neatly into Miles' era, then. There's a softening of his expression, a subtle note of approval, as the news of Koudelka's upward career was given.]

A good estimate. I'm 45 now. [Early Regency, the last cuts of the Pretendership made, and the blood cleaned from the executioner's square.]

The rest - I am aware. You're not the first from that generation here. Gregor, himself, among them.

[ that bit of news makes him nearly choke on his coffee, and he has to swallow hastily to prevent himself from coughing. the emperor here. at least aral is tracking on it, though, and given his lack of alarm, things must be under control. but then, even at the worst, aral has always had things under control-- at least as far as outsiders are concerned. and unfortunately, that's.. what jole is right now, isn't he? an outsider. ]

.. Sir, I.. [ no, jole. keep your damned mouth shut. he rubs the back of his hand over his brow, a hollow ache taking up residence right beneath his ribs. it's not necessary information, and he's not certain how he'd even broach the topic. considering the dancing they'd done around one another the first time..

no. this is for the best. ] Well. [ a breath in through his nose, and he finds his smile again, lips quirking up ruefully. ] Hopefully I can be of some use here, even if.. not quite the same use. The emperor is well? Who else is here?

oliver jole ( vksgn saga )

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