Xistentia: Mod (
spoofer) wrote in
xistentiaooc2017-07-22 08:59 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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:
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.
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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?
no subject
[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.]
no subject
playboy millionaire... does tony stark collect impressionable young men for do-gooder deeds? not yet, actually. janus doesn't know.] No, [they say, after a moment.] I'm not a hero.
[it feels true. but they still stick their bloody arms under the woman's unconscious body, and lift her off the asphalt. she's light in their grip, but she's getting a little heavier by the moment— unbeknownst to janus, because their supernatural strength is deserting them, bit by bit. replaced with a mundane human physique. it would be singularly terrifying, if they actually knew that was what was happening— but it's the trick of unreality, that you don't know.] But I'll save her. I have to get out of here, anyway. Will you stay for them, Thom?
no subject
He shakes his head at that, Janus admitting to not being a hero seeming faintly strange to him especially considering the environment.] Really? Isn't it a little dangerous for a civilian to be out here? I mean... you could get hurt, right? They're evacuating the city! [He sounds earnest yet also worried in his statement, some of the old Thom coming in through the brain fog, the boy that was a healer instead of a fighter, but it was quickly wiped away in the face of the brainwashing that was running rampant in his head.
He looks to the fight behind him and back to Janus, weighing staying with them up against the fight. He was meant to be fighting after all, he couldn't let his city fall to the Chitauri; there was a reason he signed up as a Superhero to fight them after all- to protect his city and its people.] I should fight... its my duty. [As if to prove a point a couple of Chitauri dropped down from the overpass above them, weapons drawn. The same heat that'd previously healed burned into life in Thom's hands and he raises them palms out towards. Instead of healing this time, twin sun beams explode from his hands, obliterating the aliens in front of him and a fair amount of architecture in the process. Thom stared at his hands in confusion before it was wiped off and replaced with the smug arrogance of a hero, he turns once more to Janus and the civilian, eyeing the two of them up.] You drag her, I clear a path... I'm not leaving civilians under fire.
no subject
but in other ways, there are new gaps to fill in. no hero. civilian. how does janus make sense of this then? easy. an associate of the mafia might be prone to violence, the very opposite of heroics, but janus is also a new yorker— and that comes with a certain set of pride and obligations. soldiers and capos around town, they're sure, are doing just the same. invaders are fucking invaders.] All right, [they tell thom, who seems sweet; fanboy, probably. naive, but clearly in a useful way.] That's a good idea.
But you'd better watch yourself. Unless you're like the green monster man from the news.
[a beat. janus thinks about how harlem looked when the hulk got through it.]
Especially if you're like the green monster man from the news, [they say. but they're carrying the woman toward thom already. energy weapons screeches in the distance.]
no subject
After assessing the situation of the woman and deciding they were clear to make a move Thom heads in the direction of the only logical location, the sign for a hospital not far in the distance, but far enough that problems could arise between now and then.
His hands seemed to burn constantly now with that energy, twin suns clenched in his fist ready to be released at a moments notice, casting shadows in places there weren't shadows before.] Any idea if the hospitals are still accepting patients? [He calls over his shoulder to Janus, hoping they were keeping up with the pace.]
no subject
personally, janus wants off this damn island. they do appreciate that their chances of staying conscious enough to do it are improved by having this little... whoever this kid is around. either because his confidence is poorly founded and he's gonna make a good diversion, or because it's well-founded and he'll protect them.
maybe he's an asgardian. janus hasn't been watching enough news, they don't know if asgardians have glowy hands and masks. but it's right then that there's a flicker of movement in the corner of their eye.]
Three o' clock! [they shout. an alien is descending on some kind of glider device, readying a staff to point at the trio.]
no subject
Thom had his eyes peeled but had been making the mistake of constantly looking forward, something which spoke to the arrogance of his current persona. At Janus warning the hero spins, clapping his hands together and sending out a wave of burning sunlight towards the glider, burning up the oxygen between it and Thom and leaving a smell in the air not dissimilar to ozone.
He glances to Janus then as the burning glider crashes to the floor, a smile on his features and an expression that says don't worry, I had it.] Nice catch! [He was like a damn PR event even when he spoke.] Maybe you could be a hero.
no subject
--all right. maybe parenting wouldn't be necessary. as they move past the fallen alien, they realize that it's truly the worse off for wear. janus couldn't have accomplished that with a pistol or two.]
Are you old enough to drink alcohol in this country? I'm not trying to expose your secret identity, I'm just. Curious. [they carry the woman carefully over a pile of rubble, and recover the lagged speed with a couple long steps.]
no subject
[He gives another one of those camera-ready smiles.] And I'm just old enough to be a hero. Its not about age, its about courage and being good. [And apparently being a sickeningly sweet naive little thing at the same time.]
feel free to do Batman vanish or whatever you like
in that vein: taking the long journey north one step at a time. one block at a time. one terrifying overhead shadow at a time, thom calling to duck for cover, janus waiting until the blasting is over. it's nerve-wracking and every time janus looks at the portal in the distant sky, there's a feeling they forgot something that they can't remember...]
I see it!
[but the hospital comes into view, behind the police barricade, and for the first time in years janus is relieved to see the fucking pigs. janus can't think of anything else but getting there, turning to the boy.]
Gold star for you, kid--
/whoosh
That was Janus and the female safe then, at least. Which meant Thom's duties were over in that regard, but there was still a fight to be fought and it wasn't about to be fought in the waiting room of the ER.
By the time Janus had turned to see Thom off, there was nothing more than a faint glow in the air, the same thing you saw on the tarmac of a road during a sunny day, the heatwave the only sign of Thom having been there.]