ICE ICE BABY

[maskormods]

T E S T D R I V E M E M E

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 ON THE TEST DRIVE MEME!

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. Today, a downtown park is hosting a "Last Blast of Winter" event that features a snowman-sculpting contest (using artificial snow, naturally), downhill sledding in the form of a giant, inflatable slip 'n slide, and snowflake-shaped and -themed food from the kiosks running along one side of the park—along with ice cold drinks, of course.

However, a trio of teen would-be supervillains have cobbled together backpack-mounted ice machines capable of freezing people solid at worst and making them, like, really shivvery at best. After emerging onto the scene with a shout, they're threatening to take attendees hostage if they don't get their demands: 500 Flitcoins, the amazing new cryptocurrency. Hero, will you try to stop them by force, bargain, or let them put this event on ice?

02. De Chima, Virginia, is a large city with a healthy economy, with large numbers of citizens waiting to be awed by your very presence. Look at you! Organic wonder! Those words have meaning here. 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 or recently published PLoS papers. The imPort craze remains high here, and you may find yourself cornered by overzealous imPort fans, media wannabes and opportunists alike, shoving cameras in your face. If you let yourself get cornered, beware! Anything from personal questions about romantic chances to bedroom habits to dietary queries might be come up!

As you wander, you may come across a few streets that have been closed down to show off the newest wares that America's vehicle industry has to offer. The streets are lined with new, shiny cars, alongside salesmen eager to show off exactly what they can do. Some of them are as dull as boasting excellent seat warmers, but the more avant garde among the displays look like something out of Wacky Races, decked out in incredibly bizarre designs and boasting not yet released features like the ability to turn into a boat, fifteen different horns ("a different sound for every occasion!"), bottom-heavy designs ("so your car won't flip over next time there's an imPort catastrophe!) and defense mechanisms ("it shoots out a sticky adhesive to halt any supervillains in their path!"). Many of these won't be released at all but, by gum, they're giving it their best shot.

You can simply wander around and enjoy the festivities and the bounty of food, including donut tires, candy traffic lights, truck-sized burgers, and more! It's certainly a nice place to have a quick break and some conversation.

Or you can get stuck in the cross-fire as the adhesive shooting vehicle malfunctions, spraying a sticky goo over everyone in the vicinity, just as little car-shaped bits of confetti begin to fall from the sky.


03. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania has carried a reputation for ups and downs ever since imPorts began reappearing again, just those few years prior. Several imPort heroes have put focused efforts into cleaning up the streets of this somewhat infamous city, while a handful of others had swooped in to help the criminal industry thrive. More so here than the streets of any other imPort city, the battle between good and evil looks more like a war of escalation than a heroic tale.

On this fine day, it appears that there's mischief afoot. One sordid citizen has gotten ahold of a prototype of a freeze gun and, wearing no better costume than a ski mask, has decided to hold up a bank. As he notices cop cars whizzing past, he panics, freezing a cop car in mid-chase, not quite gathering what a poor idea that is.

Everything seems to happen quickly as cars begin to plow into one another with a sound of screeching metal and an explosion of debris. What will you do about this, hero? Were you trying to cross the street and in need of a rescue? Will you go after the culprit? Will you try to save those who are trapped in the wreckage?

...Or will you try to make off with the criminal's money and keep it for yourself? That's always an option too.

04. Nonah, North Carolina, is the liveliest of all cities; loud, busy and there's always some kind of energy in the air that gets everyone buzzing with excitement.

This month there's the release of a hot new movie about imPorts themselves, though in order to evade copyright, it seems that the imPorts on screen are simply amalgamations of several different imPorts through the years instead of staying faithful to one true story. They've got everything! Action! Romance! Death! Desire. It's a whole load of hooey, in other words, but it's hooey with a big budget. What this means, however, is that even the newest imPorts are being roped into this red carpet affair. Even if they're simply passing by on the street, an eager reporter may well step up to you, saying, "Oh, are you an imPort? Please, you must come in! No, I insist!"

If you succumb to their pushy ways, you'll find yourself in a gala, likely unprepared and underdressed for the flash of the cameras and an endless torrent of questions about what you want to do here as an imPort, whether or not you feel you'll find love in this place, whether or not you fear an inevitable port-out (despite the fact that you may have just gotten here!) and will be plied with food and, if you're of age, with plenty of booze.

Comments

Martin Darkov, an oc oh no

[darkov]

o1. Heropa [at night]
The world here...really hates the dark, doesn't it. It should -- the dark is filled with terrible, awful things. It's humanity's enemy, keeps them locked up in fear, staggers their growth. But where the world Martin knows still cowers in the moonless night, this place...the lights here, these...impossible lights that don't so much as flicker... Is there no fear here?

It must just be him. He's terrified. There's nothing, no foothold, no familiarity...even the sky looks wrong, and worse still when the occasional airplane rumbles distantly overhead. A world where mankind has no fear is a world Darkovs strive for...but have no business being a part of.

He shudders, not of cold, but out of unease. As he walks, he hears the loud tamping of his own shoes on the street, and he feels his anxiety rise. It plays tricks with him, making him soon thing himself pursued, though he sees nothing in this fake-dark. The street lights play with his nightvision and make the unnatural shapes and shadows of the world around him into foreign monsters, and soon his staggered walk becomes a run. A run with no clear direction, save to simply get away. A run that, ultimately, sends him into the middle of a naked intersection just as lonely traffic is speeding toward it. And, as a deer in headlights, there stands Martin.


o2. De Chima [in the early, early morning]
He's stuck.

Having failed to find a place to hide before the city's earlier risers set to work, Martin finds himself having to choose between hiding in this dingy alleyway or daring to traverse into a populated street. Honestly, four in the morning isn't terribly busy, but even seeing three people is three too many for him. He's almost ready to give in, huddle up, and hope hiding in the rubbish will sustain him for the daytime, but...

But he can hear his cousin, Danielle, berating him. You can't do much unless you start moving! she'd say, all before marching ahead.

Gulping, he tries to take the words to heart and brave the sidewalk, freezing up at every passing vehicle. They're...terrible, awful, and no one around him seems to even bat an eyelash.

It takes virtually no time at all for him to be trapped in a one-sided interrogation with an interested, undoubtedly well-meaning deli manager who, despite meaning well, cannot read the look of plain, pure discomfort on Martin's face. It's pretty easy to read.

I don't like this. Help.


o3. Maurtia Falls [daytime]
Help with the explosion fallout? Not hardly. Martin's frozen in abject horror, having been just a breath away from being sandwiched in the collision in his mad dash across the street. All thoughts of where and why he was going are gone as he tries to process what's in front of him. It's--it's really hard. There's truly nothing like this to compare, and...

And he hears similar screeching coming his way, mixed with assorted shrieks from nearby. Turning his head, he sees the truck trying to find means to careen out of the way instead of hitting him, but...

Martin raises his arm, elbow locking stiffly into place as bone protrudes out of his wrist and suddenly bulges, launching a lance twice his height at such a rate as to knock him off his feet while it in turn impales the truck to a nauseating, metal-crunching half.

He is knocked off his feet and sent rolling away, left to slowly sit up and gape at his handiwork. Evidence of the weapon is already disintegrating, leaving a dreadful feeling in his gut.

He can see a person in there...

02

[eloquentness]

[ Ever since Doc was ported out, Iris finds herself taking on more and more responsibilities at the O'Malley Clinic. Some which are good, and some which are... more stressful than anything. So before she heads into work, she's taken to visiting a deli and buying a dozen bagels for her and the unlucky souls who may get stuck with her (and her grumpy moods).

Right as she's passing the deli though, she spies the manager - someone she recognizes - talking to some kid who clearly doesn't want to be here.

So, her protective instincts kick into gear and she waves them over, ]

Hey, Ms. Alesci. [ Iris beams, ] I'll take it from here. Grab us a couple of bagels - with extra schmears?

[ The deli manager leaves them, allowing Iris to take a better look (and whiff - whew) of this child. Softly: ] You holding up okay?

[darkov]

[this lady doesn't even register much as a person anymore: she's more or less a blur that leans in and out and asks a dozen-plus questions -- several of which don't even make sense even when he does tune back in. and in tuning back in, suddenly there's more people.

worried he's suddenly in more trouble, Martin snaps back to attention, straightening up and watching with worried eyes as the new stranger dismisses the other. the moment she looks at him, however, his eyes drop to the ground.

he gulps.]

I'm. [is 'okay' a good thing? he doesn't know.] Not...hurt. Ma'am. Thank you. Sorry.

[eloquentness]

[ she shakes her head, kneeling so that she can meet him at proper eye level. God, he really looks like he could use a proper shower - maybe she can arrange for him to visit the clinic and get all freshened up? ]

You're fine. Promise. [ Iris bites on her lower lip, ] That lady means well, but honestly she goes a hundred miles a minute, and well. She even gets me all flustered.

[ Mostly because that deli manager keeps asking her when she's going to settle down and marry that nice Bartholomew boy, but you know. Details. ]

I bet you're hungry, right?

[darkov]

[counter to her move, Martin's eyes dart aside to evade contact while the rest of him presses up against the bricks behind him.

attempts to inform the other lady that he's not allowed to bother people fell on deaf ears...would it be any different if he tried again? he somehow doubts it. people here are just...they really seem overly invested, counter to what he's been taught to expect.

he grimaces a little at the question.]

Uh... [he can't lie.] Ye-yes, ma'am. Sorry, I'm. Looking right now... to take care of it.

01

[minorgod]

The car swerves in a valiant attempt to miss him, but Martin's pulled the opposite direction by a strong pair of hands in the back of his shirt and hauled out of harm's way. Both he and his intervention end up in a heap on the pavement, and the car, probably sensing that more trouble would follow if they stayed, speeds off into the dark.

"Kid," Yato wheezes, having been landed on. "You managed to find the only car in the neighbourhood to freeze in front of."

[darkov]

Martin's ragdolled by the pull, sent flopping backward into his unknown rescuer. He's a swirl of fear and confusion -- doubly so when he can feel "ground" beneath him squirming and groaning. He scrambles to roll off, crawling a couple paces away before he has to force himself to stop and look back and face the trouble he's in. His blood runs cold to see a...a person there.

"I..." Oh, no. He...did he hurt him? If he hurt him, he's-- "I'm sorry! I! I...I don't know, I--Did you? Are you? I'm sorry!"

[minorgod]

"Eh?" The panicked reaction seems out of place to Yato, even for someone who nearly just got run over. And it's hard to be irate at a kid who looks that distraught.

Yato sits up, brushing some dirt from the front of his jersey and then gets to his feet before offering Martin a hand to help him up. "You need to be careful crossing the streets, even in the middle of the night. Jeez, don't they teach that to kids over here? You okay?"

[darkov]

Martin's immediate reaction to the outstretched hand is to recoil, pushing back to sit on his legs, his head tucked between his shoulders as he's lightly admonished. He's sure the man should be angrier -- that he's not is disconcerting in its own right. People aren't supposed to even know he's about, after all.

"N-no, sir, I..." He gulps, looking down. "I'm sorry. I don't know. I don't know anything at all. I'm very sorry."

1!

[ct_7567]

Rex sees the kid running first and, honestly, thinks very little of it. It doesn't look like he's well, but it also doesn't seem like it's any of his damn business unless a threat presents itself: there's a hundred kids just like him in any which city he's been in, and he's never been much at home with kids.

Of course, that only lasts as long as the kid's not in immediate danger - once the damn fool runs out into traffic, he has to intervene. He runs with a burst of speed and doesn't bother yelling out a warning to the poor kid, electing instead to simply pick him up like a sack of potatoes and roll out of the way of the car.

...and in full armour too, which absolutely isn't alarming. It's cool, Martin! This is a super cool situation to be in!

[darkov]

It's actually not, but Martin has very little say in it. He hardly knows what's going on, between the glare of blinding light and the feeling of himself being yanked off his feet. All he can do is hide his head in his arms as he's sent tumbling along, and even when said tumbling's all said and done, he finds his body's opted to stay as huddled and frozen as it can be where he lands.

Cowering again. Always, always a useless, cowering heap. But it's a bit too soon to be berating himself about it; maybe after the adrenaline's left him. For now, all he can do is force himself to peek out behind his arm and gape in horror at the faceless mask beside him.

This is a nightmare. He's either going to wake up, or this thing is going to kill him and he'll die, he's sure.

[ct_7567]

Oh, great. The kid's gone all stiff and terrified now. It's not as though Rex is without empathy, because he feels bad, he really does, but he has no blasted clue what to do with a terrified youngling. He doesn't do or say anything for a moment, nonplussed, then with a quiet rumble in the back of his throat, kneels next to him.

"Hey kid," he says, voice low and gruff, slightly distorted by his bucket. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just making sure you didn't get yourself killed by that speeder. How about you tell me where you're supposed to be?"

Not that Rex will know how to get him there, considering he has no blasted clue where anything is right now, but it's better than letting this child wander back into traffic. Where are his parents? They should be handling this, not Rex.

[darkov]

Martin's eyes widen. What a horrible voice...! If monsters ever did speak, they surely had to sound like that. It makes it all the more confusing that despite that, he feels no telltale sense of evil creeping across his skin, nor any dread smell through his nose.

(That might be due to having most of his face hidden behind his arms, but...)

He's slow to move, never taking his eyes off the eyeless face watching him, lest something he does anger him. He pushes himself up onto his knees, his head ducking between his shoulders with a gulp.

"I'm--" He gulps again, dropping his gaze at last. "Just...just a Darkov. Sir. Sorry. I--I don't know what's going on. I'm not supposed to be here. Sorry."

03 sup nerd

[fervidclaret]

Itsuki honestly isn't used to do much excitement all at once. Despite his own nature, the world he comes from is surprisingly mundane!

He'd just been strolling by when the whole 'freeze gun and car crash' incident unfolded, having to stop to watch it all unfold. Oh my, what a mess. He was hallway through wondering if the frozen cop car now contained a frozen cop when another little scene unfolds, a careening truck stopped cold by some sort of powers, he was sure.

Looking to the culprit of that particular mess, Itsuki's brows raised and he gave a sort of half-smile, waving at the kid who was almost certainly still on the ground as he approached. "My, it sure is lively out here today!" Chaotic, really. Was this normal? Either way, he offered Martin a hand to assist in him getting up, while his mind once again wandered to the victims here.

Could he grab a bite or two? Eugh, not likely. Broad daylight and such a large mess would attract too much attention.

hey stinker

[darkov]

Martin's liable to be frozen there on the spot from shock and meager attempts to try and understand what rests before him. It's not the voice calling to him that pulls him out of it, nor the hand outstretched in kindness. Rather, it's a sudden, terrible dread that overtakes him -- much more intense than the fear of the unknown in front of him (unknowns that he skewered, no less).

No: this is a more deep-rooted, familiar fear that sends his neck to tingling, his hairs going on end. This is something bred in him, that makes the sudden, off smell filling his nose give him pause, make him snap back into the moment.

Monster...!

Martin, eyes wide and face gaunt, tilts his head up and turns toward the man. Monster, rather. Because that's what he senses -- what he smells. And it...doesn't make sense for what he's seeing.

All the more reason to be petrified. And he is: frozen, mute, and horrified.

[fervidclaret]

Hm. That's an interesting reaction. Itsuki studies the boy's face when he doesn't seem to react, his brows furrowing in some amount of concern. Had he said something wrong? Was there something on his face? Here he was, standing with an outstretched hand and the kid hasn't reacted at all. Not what he was used to!

"Er... you doing okay, there?" Might as well ask. He didn't understand the situation all of the sudden and was rapidly flipping through his mental encyclopedia of human interaction to try to find the right response, which definitely manifested in his face as confusion and some amount of discomfort.

Still holding his hand out like a jackass, he couldn't find any reason he'd withdraw, he THINKS. "D-.... Do you need... assistance?"

[darkov]

Is this person not...a person? Martin's expression starts to cloud with confusion as the man staggers at an attempt for a response.

He's human? Isn't he? Then--then there's danger near him, and Martin's supposed to do something about it.

"There..." He can barely speak, his throat so dry and tight with fear. He gulps, wincing. "There's...danger. You--you have to. To hide."

01

[eyedrop]

[ Aizawa prefers to operate at night, no matter what brave new world he's been tossed into. Admittedly, this world is a lot more like his own than he expected--countless minor super villains included. One day here and he knows he needs to start patrols. Of course, that's a little difficult when you're a stranger in a strange land, so his route is erratic for now--in fact, it's less of a 'route' and more of a 'walking around at random to figure out where exactly everything is' sort of deal.

So he's out here, just trying to see what he can see, and what he sees is--a kid, in the middle of traffic, about to get run over. ]

Hey!

[ He looses the scarf around his neck, tosses it so that it loops around Martin's waist, and then yanks. He pulls the boy roughly--but efficiently--to safety, just as the car whizzes by. ]

[darkov]

Uhhff--

[without much chance to react, Martin's flung aside as bright lights sear his eyes and are suddenly gone, leaving nothing but bright red spots for him to deal with on his way skidding aside onto the pavement.

he rolls, bringing his arms to his face to protect it from his eventual stop after rolling against the curb, and there he lays for a few beats while his heart stops drumming in his ears and he can catch his breath.]

Wuh-- [he lifts his head, blinking and squinting past the spots.] What--??

[eyedrop]

Are you all right?

[ Aizawa kneels beside Martin as he takes back his scarf, looping it once more around his neck. ]

That was a pretty close call, kid. Didn't anyone ever teach you to look both ways before crossing the street?

[darkov]

[Martin immediately freezes up when he realizes the shape in front of him is speaking to him, frightened anew.]

I-I'm sorry! I didn't know!

02

[killtime]

Andy doesn't sleep well. There's this habitual restlessness that keeps her from going back to the house in De Chima after her shift at the bar. Four AM is usually a quiet time. The buzz of civilization is subtler then, easier to ignore. It's preferable for a person like Andy, whose tendency is to keep everyone and everything at arm's length. She can walk and smoke and mind her own business.

Well. Most of the time, anyway.

Up ahead, she can see the chatty deli manager and their poor victim — a child? Out alone, at this hour? Andy's eyebrows pinch together. She lingers there for a second, half-unwilling to involve herself, but finally, her steps pick up again and she approaches. Her hand closes gently, but firmly on the child's upper arm, tugging lightly to suggest that he should walk with her. It's an improvised rescue. Hopefully it comes off that way, and not like an improvised kidnapping.

"There you are," she greets him mildly, "Don't go so far ahead without me. It isn't safe."

[darkov]

Martin freezes up instantly, only realizing there's a new stranger about when he feels his arm being grabbed. His immediate fear is being hurt -- thrown, hit...something -- though he's no basis for it at all, save his own imaginings of how people would be. If they knew the rules as well as he did, he figures such things to be proper: he has no business being around them, and they have no need to put up with him.

Perhaps to the manager, he looks more like a child caught straying far from a sibling or a sitter, and perhaps that's why they back off while Martin gapes down at the ground in growing dread. Only when they've excused themself to see to opening their store does Martin's mouth begin to open and close, only just teeth clicking together before he can stammer out words.

"S-sorry," he utters. "I-I'm sorry, I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll go, I--"

[killtime]

Andy is not a good person. And she is not a gentle person either. But she would never willingly hurt a child, especially not one that looks like the mere act of breathing causes him anxiety. As soon as they're around the corner from the bakery and out of eyesight, she lets go of his arm, pausing to turn and look at him properly.

He's a nervous little thing. She feels a twinge of pity.

"Relax. I'm not gonna do anything to you." One hand comes to rest lightly at her hip. "You just looked like you might spontaneously combust if you had to stand there and be talked at another minute." A half-beat, then: "Where are your parents?"

[darkov]

"Not here."

He says it quickly, his head shrunk between his shoulders and his eyes downcast. He rubs at his arm where it was yanked about -- not out of pain, but simply out of the feeling of it being touched at all.

"I'm not supposed to be here. Sorry. I--" He grimaces. "I don't...know how to get back."