xistentiaooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #3

Entry tags:

#meme,
#tdm

TEST DRIVE MEME #3

Test Drive Meme #3

I walk around with all my violent decisions.

Prison World Prequel: Spidermarvel

D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. has learned a new trick to stop characters from defying the end of the multiverse. These are prison worlds, alternative universes, where prisoners are brainwashed into native conflicts so that they will kill each other.

NEW CHARACTERS: BRAINWASH

One minute, you're escaping your dying homeworld. Perhaps through a wormhole, perhaps with some incredible leap of technology, sorcery, or on a magic steed— regardless of the how, the why was clear. Everything you once knew tearing apart at the seams, facing utter destruction at the mercy of an apocalypse no one had predicted.

The next instant, you topple into a street covered in rubble. The Battle of New York (spoilers in the link) rages around you.

Armored humanoid aliens, the Chitauri, run amok in the streets, armed with staffs that blast powerful energy bolts. A hundred times larger, fish-like "Leviathans" are gliding through the air, with fangs as tall as people, damaging skyscrapers with their massive flippers, and ejecting yet more of the Chitauri from their sides. Around you, fires burn and humans are running in every direction in panic, barely taking a second to notice anything outlandish about your appearance. In the distance, there's a blue, glowing portal hundreds of feet in the air.

Maybe you stand and fight. Perhaps you find a citizen or a fellow world-hopper bleeding and hurt and you try to help. Maybe it's the faraway portal you're going for, assuming this is just that damn apocalypse again— but that's when something feels ever so slightly wrong.

This is the sensation of your memories starting to warp, your very identity shaping to fit this world. Your powers starting to flicker, gutter, not operating quite right. Glance down, and for a split-second, it's like your hands are-- pixellated? But blink again, and it's over. Hell, there are more important things to take care of right now...

EXISTING CHARACTER: WRAITH MODE

Technology lights up in the Citadel, the defense systems coming online abruptly, dozens of screens and interfaces crawling with unrecognizable code— and special instructions. Using a visor at the Citadel, brief journeys to the prison world are possible. When you appear in the Battle of New York, the visitors appear like ghosts displaced from space and time. You are now in wraith mode, incorporeal, intangible, and invisible to most of the inhabitants of the Prison World. However, you can be seen and heard by the new prisoners, all the while retaining their personalities and identities. Simulation or transportation? It's hard to tell.

The Temple lights up too, revealing a new chamber filled with dozens of strange stone beds, dimly aglow. But the technology or magic there refuses to reveal anything else.

HEATWAVE IN THE CITY

A week after you arrive in Xistentia, you are still trying to get a grip with life in the city, your new apartment, still trying to understand exactly what's needed of you. The inhabited parts of the urban development have wide boulevards and beautiful facades, well-groomed trees on every street. The further you go from the growing colony, the more overgrown and wild the buildings look, small flocks of birds singing at you from the bridges.

Beyond the streets, the natural environment around you-- wherever you choose to explore— is supposed to be perfect; the weather in Xistentia is designed to be temperate in the city, hotter on the beach, cooler in the forest. But in recent days, the temperature has been climbing. It's a steady thing, but it's felt throughout the whole of Xistentia, and it's not long before it becomes unpleasant, humid and heavy heat that sticks your shirt to your skin.

Your daemon trills, requiring your attention. You've noticed that it now looks different now than it did back in the Prison World, no longer a simple cellphone. When you touch the hologram popup, the message reads:

F.A.T.E.S. WARNING SYSTEM
Threat Assessment: Mild
Phenomenon Type: Weather System Compromised
Predicted Duration: 72 hours

Due to massive energy discharge from D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.'s Prison World program, a heat wave has come. Residents are advised to remain cool indoors or hydrated outside. F.A.T.E.S. requests your assistance offsetting repair power costs by temporarily increasing physical contact, including intimacy. Remember, safezone protocol will prevent combat within the city excepting sparring at gyms.

With expected assistance, the weather system will be corrected in 72 hours.

Fate is your hands. Or possibly your arms, if you're more of a hugger. As characters initiate physical intimacy within the city, they may notice the nearest lamps in the streets brightening.

NETWORK

Chances are pretty good that your daemon is not a phone or a computer or a wax-sealed piece of parchment or a Howler, nothing with a convenient camera or a keyboard; it probably isn't even a pocket sized. Likelier, it stares at you with eyes that contain the lenses-- or powers-- of a camera, and some part of its body projects a holographic keyboard into the air. For those of us who are not accustomed to manipulating intangible light prisms, it's not very intuitive to type on.

But here's your network access. Accessible to all your fellow travelers in XISTENTIA.

Misfires, typos, and blurry video footage are likely. Time to feel like a Luddite!

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

sUPER FUN!

Footnotes

Some of these can be nameless, plot-device NPCs to facilitate interactions! But even in this case, please avoid gore in describing their current state of being. Anyone dead or catastrophically injured will have disappeared by the time your characters make it to Xistentia. There are no corpses or dying here.
But like OOCly ask permission ofc.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i. brainwash

[In the moments up to the planned rescue of his city, Thom felt himself getting increasingly nervous. Things were getting worse at home by the day and the League were making some last ditch efforts in order to fix things, blowing Memorial Tower was their Hail Mary and they were putting a lot of stock into it, their world slowly falling apart was never meant to have happened, it might be that they should've expected this long ago but the League of Heroes had to fix things in some way and their idea was an involved one.

The invading forced had arrived by means of the World Eater in the centre of the Wilson Memorial Tower, a huge crystalline cavern that was once the chest cavity of an alien beast intent on destroying Earth, but they'd never expected the League of Heroes to find a way to use it against them. Thom was responsible for the mission if only because his own abilities meant he was best suited; people couldn't easily enter the cavern, the jagged crystalline walls tearing away at most. Thom was almost burning up with the energy running through him, his power patching up the damage even as it occurred, a pack slung over his shoulder that even now glowed faintly purple in the light, Thom reaching within for the bomb that was expected to reverse the effects of this corridor between worlds and setting it into place, activating it with only a whispered prayer that things would work, hearing the sounds of fighting roaring behind him as both forces got closer and closer to the entrance of the cavern.

He felt the bomb explode, a blast of energy exploding towards him that was met with his own heat, his body burning brightly with both light and sensation as his powers tried to keep him alive, a polarised effect of energies pushing and pulling against one another as the Worm Eater's heart became a corridor once more between universes, albeit reversed this time, dragging that invading force backwards through space and locking the door behind it.

When the heat finally died down Thom opened his eyes, surprised he wasn't dead until he saw what lay around him. A species unknown to him in that moment, the Chitauri, raging war on an unfamiliar city around him. Thom was still in his costume, a domino mask plastered over his eyes and a power suit similar to a wet suit clinging to his body and that was apparently enough to draw attention as the beasts rush towards him, the young hero not capable of even thinking about what he'd just done or where he was before being thrown into yet another fight.]

ii. heatwave

[It was sweet relief for Thom to be back to his senses again, no longer ravaged by the confusion of brainwashing. Sure, he wasn't home anymore, but he'd apparently saved his home in the process and that was the kind of sacrifice he was more than happy to have made, especially if he didn't have to be dead, he could still go on helping in this place.

Today was peaceful enough albeit stiflingly hot, Thom himself was in a cafe of sorts, drinking from a huge iced coffee that was beading with moisture, condensation brought to life thanks to the heat around him, his own white t-shirt sticking to his equally perspiring skin as he sat by himself despite the other people around him. Peaceful that is, until his little superhero action figure of a Daemon chirps into life and Thom takes an embarrassing moment or two to get the message open, trying not to curse as it continues to make noises. Once read though, he does curse, loud enough to draw attention.] Fuck... how am I supposed to do that? [He understood the idea of increased physical contact, he just didn't quite know what the F.A.T.E.S. expected him to do. It wasn't like there was a huge abundance of people to heal here.]

iii. network

Daemon: Justiced
Hello.
My name is Tgim Cteed. [No its not.]
THIS THING. HARD. TYPE. NEVER. HAD. CELL. PHONE. [Apparently its easier to type in all caps followed by a period, such a literate tech-savy boy here.]
I had 1 questuon. how professuve is it heer?? [Don't blame him guys,
he doesn't know what he's doing. Teach him to do better as a person or at the very least access the video camera.]

iv. wildcard

[A lot of tl;dr here sorry, I just wanted to set things up appropriately. If you'd like anything else with Thom or even would like to discuss any of the prompts here I'm also available at razrushost and Discord: Razrushost#8963 for plotting!]

[janus is covered in blood and wearing black. it's not the best combination of circumstances for high summer in new york city, but for janus, it's actually fairly normal— after all, they are a hunter of supernatural beings who was raised in florida right up until the world ended ten minutes ago.

pandemonium and violence are not unfamiliar to them. not even dimensional travel is unusual to them. the chitauri, mind you— that's pretty fucked. and even though janus is doing a good job of hiding it, they're a little anxious and sticking to the familiar-- protecting humans.

specifically, trying to tourniquet this woman's near-severed arm, crouching under an underpass while people scream and run. for a moment, there are none of the chitauri immediately near. but when janus looks up, they see someone nearly as odd. by now, janus has passed by enough electronics store shopfronts and newspaper stands to pick up a few things from context. they're willing to go far out enough on a limb to shout across at the disoriented young man in the street:]

You! The individual with the mask!

[they wave a bloody hand at him.] Are you working with the Iron Man? Can you transport this human to the law enforcement?

Edited (woops forgot what was ic public knowledge) 2017-07-23 20:48 (UTC)

[Thom was lost almost immediately in the rush of movement and chaos around him, as if home hadn't been bad enough for him with invading forces he'd been transported to this place and it was enough to let his head spin. Except there was the fact that his head was vaguely spinning, a thought that sent a pang of nausea to his gut at the idea that he could be on his way to having a seizure at such a bizarre and difficult moment.

Instead, he's shouted to by a stranger not far away, a stranger who seems to be covered in blood which has Thom running towards him.] Am I with... the Iron Man? [Thom shakes his head, the question prompting more than enough confusion.] I don't think so, I'm- I'm Thom. [He looks to the human between them.] And law enforcement? They need help... I can help? Or call for help? [He knew he could do something, couldn't he? He could probably heal the person between them if he could just shake the cobwebs from his mind.]

Yes, this woman has sustained arterial damage, [janus says, tightening her grip. the woman moans slightly, her eyelids fluttering; it doesn't seem like she's long for consciousness, which is both helpful and alarming considering the average human already seems terribly helpless in the face of these terrors. janus isn't feeling too well themself, but force of habit has them focusing on the moment, and its pragmatics, with laser light focus.

some things about this moment are familiar. even the stagger and pause of thom's voice resonates inside of janus somehow. back home, hunters had worked with civilians often or with their juniors. besides, even the best-trained among them will lose it sometimes. one flashbang, a poisoned needle, and all of one's courage and cleverness will desert them. noticing abruptly that thom is quite young himself, janus forces their voice calm, gesturing.] Come here, Thom, [they say.]

Come here, little one. My name is Janus. Can you put pressure on this wound for a moment? I'll scout briefly, and perhaps then we can see to contact your Iron Man.

[bad assumption, that all superheroes know each other.]

[Thom was immediately moving at Janus' prompting, his hands working of their own accord to put pressure on the wound, which is the exact moment when the burning started. Thom intended to pull his hands away but found them strangely glued to the spot, a light seeping out from between his fingers. There was a brief moment when the more important thing at play here was being called little one and he opens his mouth as if to say something before realising that it really wasn't necessary in that moment.

When the heat in his hands seems to reach its apex Thom can finally pull his hands away, revealing the fact that he'd sealed the wound shut and for some reason or another the young superhero just can't figure out the why or how of it. Something he should've been able to explain, as if it were on the tip of his tongue but suddenly gone, the way you'd walk into a room and forget your original intention.]

My Iron Man? Is he my boss or something... [Thom notices another gash on the woman below them, more superficial this time and moves his hands over it but this time there's neither light nor heat and he stares at the backs of his hands as if to will it into life but he didn't know how. Had he even healed her or had the woman simply been healed?] I'm sorry... I'm confused. Where am I again?

[blah blah blah, janus is saying. or something more reasonable than that. triage, blood loss, intensive care unit, blah, i will be right back. it's all fairly rote, a pre-packaged set of instructions and information designed to assist a panicky layman while the adult hunter goes off to get h...

...elp.

janus forgets what they had been saying. they look down to find the boy's hands loosening over healed skin. janus falls sharply silent. then glances around to reassure themself that no aliens are attacking right this second, before reaching down to touch the skin, pressing fingers against the musculature gently. scabbed-off blood comes away against their touch, but that's all. she's whole again. all because of this boy. janus tries to remember where they might have seen magic like that. angels? elves? but they find themself stopping up against a yawning cliff of confusion.

they can't even remember what they've forgotten.]

You're magic, [they say.] Did you know that you are magic? I'd assumed-- from your mask. [a car explodes down the block and distracts janus for an instant; they rise about halfway, automatically placing themself between the noise and thom with the human. that much is still instinct.]

[Thom shakes his head rather quickly at the suggestion, he didn't know what he was in that moment but something in his gut told him he wasn't magic.] No I'm not. I'm- [He stops, what the hell was he. Looking down at his hands he should know who he was.

Which was around the same moment the panic started to settle in, he reaches a hand to his face, the domino mask still plastered across his features. He apparently needed to hide his features for some reason or another, which could mean he's a bad guy. But everything here seemed so strange, it was impossible to know where the dividing line between good and bad actually lay, except well... he was pretty sure the aliens flooding the skies were the bad guys here.] I don't know how I got here...

[Suddenly an idea floods his mind, as if jarred into being by the exploded car and Thom stands up straighter.] I'm a superhero! [Well, he was technically already a superhero probationary member but now he felt like he was a little more sure of himself, standing up tall, new power coursing through his veins.]

[there were superheroes back in janus' old world, actually. masked crusaders! and caped avengers. and cowled... some other noun of choice. only, janus hadn't paid much attention to them— there weren't too many, and the superheroes and supervillains tended, it seemed, to keep each other in check, self-selecting into groups of conflict based on the prefix super-. and it's pretty super, if you ask janus, who typically otherwise has to hunt down bad guys.

except janus doesn't remember doing that right now. in fact, they're stuck for a moment, wondering where they know that turn of phrase, superhero from. it fits with the mask on thom's face. for some reason, they think of comic books— but they've never read one in their entire life. with a start, they realize that they don't remember how they got here either. they look down at the woman at their feet, and it's a blur; they remember saving her, but not why.

they've never been a hero. super or otherwise. the blood on their hands feels familiar.]

What would a superhero do now?

[Thom frowns at the question, scanning the area once more in a way that spoke of assessment now rather than outright confusion. While the details of Thom's particular brand of heroism still weren't at the forefront of his mind he knew that something at to be done and looks over to Janus.] That depends on what kind of superhero you are... fight... or save.

[He looked down to the woman between them and she did seem relatively stable, but still not the kind of person you should outright leave here among the Chitauri. Considering though, Thom knew nothing about Janus his gaze swivelled rather directly towards them instead.] What do you say? Are you a hero too... you mentioned Tony? [And apparently that name has some degree of recollection behind it now, rather than before where it hadn't even registered as a person.]

thom creed | hero

brainwash!

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( heatwave. )

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network ; daemon: shrubd

video;

video ;

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