etcelsior | we're all reponsible here

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we're all reponsible here

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 anyone's thread, either!

And remember to have fun!

01. Your memory is hazy and you might feel increasingly frustrated or anxious, or maybe you're excited as soldiers march past, barely glimpsing you. One second you're somewhere underground, the next you're enveloped in blue light, and suddenly you find yourself directly under Flordia sun's bright and burning glare. A female soldier steps toward you with a wide smile on her face and directs you to a car, ready to debrief you. You realize you are not the only one, surrounded by equally confused or eager faces... and you're all sporting a digital tattoo on your wrist.

02. Welcome to Cape Canaveral, where the smell of the ocean is in the air and locals are more than pleased to see new imPorts roaming their streets. They wave, they cheer, they ask for pictures as politely as they can. The more inhuman you look, or if you're wearing a costume, the more likely locals are to approach. Hey, enjoy the moment! The popular malt shop is offering you a free drink if you need it.

03. The technology in this world is certainly something. The cars are clearly modeled after popular 50s cars, but they hover several feet above the ground as they drive down the street. There are digital jukeboxes in restaurants, motorcycles also hover through traffic, advertisements can be seen on a digital projector on the taller buildings. Even kids on skateboards appear to drift a safe ten feet off the ground while playing!

04. Wherever you are, you can hear the loud revving of an engine, distance at first before you finally see it: a hovercar bursting around the corner, going beyond the maximum speed limit and just barely making its sharp turn. It doesn't appear to be slowing down any time soon, not with two police cars trailing it... and uh oh. Those skateboarding kids don't have much time to get out of the way as the car comes speeding down the road. You've been brought here for a reason Hero — so you better act fast.

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[ She frowns, even though he's got it exactly. "Not yet" is the conclusion she'd slowly been coming to, herself. After all, if a machine like the Porter can snatch you up from anywhere, no problem, why not anywhen? It makes sense. Unfortunately. ]

How old're you, anyway? [ She doesn't answer the question, but she doubts she needs to. Just the fact that she doesn't deny it should be enough. ]

[ That is the inevitable question that comes next. How old is he? But once again the answer to that question will tell her more than it does him. He has to watch her expression carefully if he intends to glean any of it from her careful emotional control, and it puts him at a decided disadvantage, intelligence-wise.

But it's also a necessity if this conversation is going to yield any results at all. They need to better establish who knows what, and the only way to do that is to give, even if in usual circumstances he might play information closer to his chest than this. ]

I celebrated my thirtieth birthday at the beginning of last year. [ And straight: ] Who's Robin?

[ Thirty. So much for her careful emotions-mask, she looks crushed to hear it. She glances away to better hide it (not that that does much good), and clears her throat. ]

Robin's three people. [ Her voice stays dull and low. ] You... the you I know, he met the first one at 25.

[ So it was a catastrophic difference, then. Bruce reads the reaction easily, but then it's hard for her to hide it at all and there's no real victory in that. His face changes into something more grim, and he turns very slightly toward the ocean, letting some of his guard down. Three Robins, and it means everything to her. No, she's not a threat. She's devastated that he doesn't know, and if this Robin were indeed an enemy then this wouldn't be the reaction. An enemy would take advantage instead.

She knows, he doesn't doubt it now. ]

How old was he when Harvey Dent died?

[ Because obviously she needed more evidence of their worlds being different. ]

[ That gets a blink, makes it easier to shake off the blanket of disappointment that had been threatening to settle around her. There's no time for that kind of thing, not in a situation like this. Probably not ever. She watches him with no more than that puzzled little frown, and tips her head. ]

Dent? He's not dead — just landed back in Arkham.

[ But she does get it. It's not just a matter of when, either. This is something totally different, a timeline she doesn't know at all. That he's a Batman without Robin sounds like just the first of a load of differences.

She's not sure if that makes it better or worse. ]

[ That's...different. His grim expression transforms back into curiosity, and Bruce allows himself to glance back over his shoulder to read her. If Harvey Dent were in Arkham Asylum, it must be because he's mad. Mad, not dead. Which would change everything.

Everything. ]

Harvey Dent died a hero. Nobody will ever know what really happened to him, the murders he committed before the end.

[ The greatest secret but his own, but here all it was is information. Information to peel apart the differences and give them the freedom to speak frankly. ]

You know who I am, but I don't know anything about you.

[ Well, if they're being metaphorical, she supposes it could be argued Harvey Dent is dead in her world too... but, no, the boss didn't have time for things like that. So she puts it from her mind and glances away. Down at her shoes, suspicious new and store-bought, not quite in keeping with the hoodie chic she's got going otherwise. Huh. She'll have to work on them. ]

Guess not. [ She makes herself look up to meet his eyes again, because this part's important. She stands a little straighter (she can almost hear that gruff voice, posture, Robin) and takes a breath. ] Kelley — Carrie Kelley. Third Robin, and current Robin.

Edited 2014-07-04 20:24 (UTC)

[ It's almost as though the change in her stature draws him around on the spot, following his gaze, he rotates, then steps toward her, appraising her all over again. He'd genuinely been misled, angled away from the idea that she was Robin. But then he hadn't imagined there'd be three of them either. It seems he has a lot to learn. ]

You and I are very close. Were very close. We worked together, trust each other with our lives.

[ He gestured toward their surroundings. ]

We're completely alone here. How do you feel about showing me what you can do?

[ And now there's something back in his eyes--a light of challenge. ]

[ Again, she doesn't deny any of it, and lets that serve as her answer — but she could say it goes further, even. Her Bruce had trusted her with his death, too.

That's not a story for now, though. She darts a glance around, and there's a ghost of a smirk in place when she looks back to meet the challenge in his gaze. ]

I dunno, didn't bring my equipment... [ A beat. ] Much of it, anyway.

[ But she has enough of it — and of skill — to impress him anyway, if he's got the kind of standards she's used to. ]

I didn't bring much of my own.

[ But that isn't to say he doesn't have anything. He moves very fast, flicking his wrist outward and - who even knows where it comes from - spearing a piece of crumbling plaster on the wall opposite with a black-silver batarang.

It's a warning shot, and it's time for her to move, to show him what she can do. ]

[ He doesn't have to say it twice. She's rolled into a dodge almost as soon as he'd loosed it (there'd been no danger of actually being hit, though, she's confident on that point), and she comes up in a crouch with her slingshot already out and aimed. And not to mention a grin in place. A split second is all she needs to let fly the pellet — the harmlessly explosive kind, meant for distraction. It should land about half a foot from his heel, exploding with gaudy lights and not much else. ]

[ Bruce stays put, but the explosion does catch him off guard. He should have expected it, should have realized what she meant when she said that he'd known three Robins. Mentored; he'd mentored them. Half a decade before he'd known his own path.

Ninjitsu employs explosive powders.

He all but saw Ducard in the flash of light that burned on his retinas, saw it in her agility, her speed. He listened, threw a second batarang on instinct, this time with no intention of deliberately missing. It wouldn't be a fair test--but he has immense faith in himself as a teacher. Even a different version of himself. ]

[ There, now the game is on, she knows the signs. This is more like proper training. She throws herself back, grin fading out in the concentration it takes to land palms-down then flip herself back to her feet. She may be light on the hand-to-hand, but the acrobatics — that, she can do. The slingshot is half-stowed in the stomach pouch of her hoodie as she darts around and behind him, looking to catch a foothold where the wall gets a little less finished and more ragged. ]

[ Fast and athletic. Bruce relies more on his strength than athetics, unless he's in the air; he can move fast, but handsprings are the domain of the young and flexible, and the injury that Bruce has taken to his knees - the injury he's concealing - wouldn't allow him to try. Projectiles help him to conceal some part of it, but sooner or later he has to move, and when she moves for a foothold on the wall he's there, lunging for her ankle. ]

[ He can have the ankle, because the boss had long taught her the five best ways to break that hold. And besides, she's got the momentum and height she was after. Her still-free foot gives a kick against the wall and she looks to spin herself out of his grip, launching herself upward in the motion. Up high enough, hopefully, to treat his shoulders like a springboard for her next leap. ]

[ The truth is that Bruce doesn't have the practice. Fighting thugs and ninjas is one thing, and he's learned a great deal from that, but he hasn't spent the greater part of a decade training Robins or 'fighting' with Selena Kyle. He isn't the same man, and while he inherently knows that she can break out of his grip, it's different when she actually does it.

But he adapts. As she buckles her knees to spring, Bruce's shoulders drop toward the ground, exceeding her downward velocity, allowing her no resisting surface from which to power her leap. Even though his momentum carries them both forward at the same speed, he knows she won't be in his way when he twists aside in his roll, coming up in a low crouch to see what she tries next.

Crumbled cartilage screams for mercy, but Bruce doesn't flinch. She expects more from him, and something, some pride in what he does, drives him to try to meet that expectation, no matter the odds.

[ Whoop— so much for her springboard. She falters when he steals her solid surface, but rolls with the sudden change, and alters it to a backward shove off of his retreating back. There's not much power to her spring that way, but it does at least get her a little distance. And that's the most important tool she has to use: distance.

She lands, rolls, and comes up ready and grinning. All thoughts of how this isn't the right man are gone, replaced by the excitement of a spar. There's no time to think — just act and react. And speaking of, it looks like he's waiting for the next move, so she may as well give him something good. Something new, something she doesn't quite have down yet. She bends her knees, grabbing her slingshot as she does, furrows her brow in concentration, and leaps.

It's not just a normal jump, this is something superhuman. Super powered, anyway. She spent the first few hours in this world working on this one, and she's delighted when her upward arch easily hits 10 feet. While midair she goes to draw back and aim — but her trajectory is off. She's too close to the wall, miscalculated, crap—

She never does get that shot off at him, since she's suddenly too busy trying to get a shoulder between her and that impending wall. She bounces off inelegantly and lands again, gracelessly (but at least still on her feet), with a wince. Ow. ]

[ He knows what's possible and what isn't, an when she shifts from human to superhuman ability, Bruce takes up a defensive position, ready to defend himself, to jump aside as though he were taking an attack from ground level. And because he's watching, he gets to see the full mistake in all its glory--not that there's much he can do to stop her from colliding with the wall but grimace in sympathy.

He straightens, looking her over, mostly to make sure she's okay but also to check her exertion levels, then he smiles. He can still smile and mean it, not the goofy smile of Bruce Wayne but smaller, warmer, more genuine. It's rare, the kind of thing he saves for Lucius and Alfred. ]

"Always mind your surroundings." Anything broken?

[ She rubs her shoulder, regretting the overly confident attempt. Looks like that's going to need a whole lot more practice before it sees practical application. ]

Not broken.

[ A duly fully given report, as she tests the joint. Just sore, nothing worrisome. She glances up, about to say more — but pauses at the sight of the smile. That is rare. She's gotten one like it a few times, but it always came in a face with a lot more wear on it. It's weird, seeing it 25 years younger. She smiles back, hesitant and a little sheepish. ]

I was testing it out earlier. Not quite enough, I figure — but also, I mean, that wall came outta nowhere.

I can't say I'm sure what you did, but it looked to me like you put too much power into it.

[ He'd had the impression faintly of Carrie being as light as a paper plane, but thrown far too hard at the opposite wall. Gravity and muscle memory played crucial parts in judging distance, but it was as though those rules had been thrown out the window.

And it's his first real introduction to these superpowers, really. The ones in his own dossier had seemed...unmeddlesome. He could pretend they simply weren't there, at least for as long as his knees kept hurting him.

He could forget that this world didn't play by his rules. ]

What's it called?

[ She nods, replaying the jump a few times in her mind. Too light, obviously. Too light combined with too much power in the jump — bad news. She drops her hand again, and stuffs the slingshot back into its hidden place at her waist, under the hoodie. ]

Density lightning, like they couldn't give it a cooler name. [ She makes a face. ] Figure it's got some potential though, if I get it down.

Well it's your power, you could call it anything you liked.

[ Potential. But power could corrupt, and it wasn't absolute. There was always a weakness--there had to be. For Ra's it had been superiority. For the Joker his power was his madness, his weakness his low estimation of human goodness, and for Crane it had been ambition. But this was a different kind of power. It existed in the more literal sense, and as a result its weakness would be literal. A light density might imply fragility, or at the very least the ability to be blown over by a stiff breeze. ]

Potential, but it should augment your training, not undermine it. [ His tone changes; a statement: ] You're fast, and your response time is faster. Twice you changed what you were doing in mid-air--that's quite the feat.

[ She nods, dropping her eyes as she thinks it over. It's sound advising, and it would be a weakness to rely on a power. Any power. It's also so like something the boss would say, she doesn't even stop to consider that he didn't actually say it. Not technically.

The compliments catch her a little off-guard, though. She glances up at him again, caught between hesitation and outright surprise, poised and visibly waiting for the "but" that will doubtlessly follow them. ]

[ He waits too, watches her, and after but a moment of making a reading that teasing challenge flashes back into his eyes, and he steps back toward her, reaching up to touch the shoulder with which she'd collided with the wall. It's a gentle touch, at least.

He understands--at least, he thinks he does. ]

I'm not the same man as the one you know. You'll discover that my compliments don't come with any reservations, at least where they're deserved.

[ Different different different. Bruce isn't used to giving critique. Self critique, yes, but he's no teacher. As a result, he's no taskmaster either. More importantly, though she sees him as her mentor, Bruce is acutely aware that he's no such thing. Assuming he even wants to pursue it, he recognises it as something that both of them would have to earn. ]

[ She flinches — not at his touch, but at the sudden reminder that, no matter what similarities she may see, this isn't the same person. Right. It's been too easy to forget that in the wake of the last few minutes. She glances away, feeling guilty for looking at one man and so obviously seeing another. ]

Right. [ Her voice drops to a mumble: ] Sorry.

we're all reponsible here

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"duly fully" wow. pretend that was dutifully.......

no I refuse

ALSO PRETEND LIGHTENING, NOT LIGHTNING. damn. i know i'm asking a lot here but work with me

/taps foot!

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