[ Meme ] August-September Test Drive Meme (TDM)

[st_aff]

It's that time again!

→ Comment with a new character you'd like to test out in the game's setting. (put character/canon in subject line pls!)
→ You don't have to be in the game to comment! HI NEW PEOPLE LET US ENABLE YOU.
→ Tag around with new and old characters.
→ App all those characters
→ ???
→ PROFIT!

Holds for current players are here. Current cast list is here. If you're a new player and you'd like to place a 2-week reserve, you can do so here.

* * *

Here, have a few helpful scenarios for test-driving. Feel free to ignore them and make your own.

I.
Wherever you were, you aren't any longer. You took a turn, a step, blinked and you're somewhere else entirely. A long dusty road leads from nowhere to an oasis (or a nightmare, depending on your taste) of pink and bright light in the midst of the scrub desert and there's nothing and no one else in sight. If you linger long enough on the road, one of the Inn's residents will find you, but you feel noticeably drawn to come inside.

The pink and gold lobby looks like a bunny puked Easter everywhere, and the guy at the reservation desk looks a sort of silly putty shade of pinkish grey. He knows you by name and has a room reserved for you, but other than offering you fresh towels, that's all he has to say. Chances are, one of the residents will intercept you before you talk to Darryl the shade. They'll give you a guest basket with toiletries and chocolates and whatever else Caroline thinks a newcomer needs, and explain (nicely) that you're stuck here, but hey, it's not so bad. It's pretty safe, anyway. At least... so far.

II.
The red, gold and gaudy pink of the Copper Cafe overflows with residents. It's morning, the one and only time nearly everyone finds themselves in the same space for a short window before going about their day. The scent of fresh coffee laces the air, mingling with the buttery aroma of fresh baked pastry. The shade who serves as a cook, Kahni, awaits any orders that include chicken (chicken, not eggs), and Carlos has staffed one of the residents who can cook to make anything else you'd like. Kitty's pouring drinks -- no reason not to drink bloody maries or mimosas on your permanent holiday. Grab a spot at the counter or take a seat at an empty table, now that you're a resident too, there's no better way to start your day.

III. Network
[ooc: Our network is text-based and magic journal. No computers yet. You see this suspiciously well-painted image appear in your network-journal. Uh-oh. Someone taught Lillith to meme.]

Comments

Erik Lehnsherr | X-men cinematic | RP transfer

[frankensteinian]

I.

It happens in an instant, so fast that he barely registers that it's happening. A walk along one run-down road turns into a walk along a different run-down road, and then before he even knows where he is, he's standing in an inn. But not the inn he knows, and not the one he was heading for.

Some might think it strange to see a bearded man (trimmed, at least, if not shaved; he hasn't completely given in to his wild side) gaping at the scene around him, but they'll have to forgive him. The decor is nausea-inducing, and then there's the fact that he hasn't seen electricity in almost two years.

His clothes (plaid shirt, white T-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots) are dirty, but not so dirty that it looks like he hasn't made an effort at keeping them clean. He's done the best he could. Slung over his shoulder is a battered backpack.

Once he's done gaping at the lights and all the other things he hasn't seen in years, then his expression turns wary. Random relocations to new places? That can't be good. Are they messing with him again? Why didn't he come through the fountain this time?

Re: Erik Lehnsherr | X-men cinematic | RP transfer

[st_artliving]

He looked rougher than most new arrivals, so Xavin ducked back into the bar area and doctored a few more of the coffees on her tray with liquor. The Inn was a lot even for those who handled things well.

She also made sure to approach from an angle easily visible in peripheral vision. She remembered being jumpy on arrival, just because it was so different. "Hello, new person. Please take a coffee if you want one. Some have alcohol."

[frankensteinian]

Did she say coffee? And alcohol? Add that to the fact that she's unfamiliar and he knows the inhabitants of the village at least by sight if not by name and he's starting to think that maybe this time it's someone else messing with him. Only time will tell if this situation is better or worse than the last one. So far all of the points are in the "better" column.

He eyes the tray. "Which ones have alcohol?" Guess what else he hasn't had a lot of in the last two years?

[st_artliving]

Xavin shifted the tray to one hand so she could point with the other, subtly reinforcing its balance with a force field. "This one is whiskey, this one brandy, this one rum... and for some reason I thought tequila might be a good idea. I have come to doubt that now."

[frankensteinian]

He doesn't notice the use of the force field yet, either because he doesn't know what to look for and what it means or because he's used to people not having those sorts of powers anymore and therefore not expecting her to use one. Instead he just reaches for the mug with brandy in it. "Someone might think that's a good idea, but I'll stick with this one."

[st_artliving]

"I believe the brandy to be the best choice as well," she agreed. "There is a little vanilla syrup as well, it makes quite a good drink altogether. It is possible I will drink the tequila one itself, to see if it is awful."

[guessihavelostcount]

Claire would understand perfectly what he is going through at the moment because the same thing had happened to her just a couple days before. Even with the time she's had to adjust, the decor is still taking some getting used to but she can't help loving the fact that she has all the things she has been lacking over the last year or so. Just the everyday things she had taken for granted that now felt like luxuries made it almost worthwhile and made her a little less bitter about jumping through the multiverse again.

Still, a little damp from her blissfully long shower that she had indulged in that morning, Claire makes her way downstairs towards the shop with the intention of checking things out again. At least that's her plan until she comes to a stop at the sight of a familiar man standing nearby.

For a second she is breathless but she knows better than to let her hope and excitement make her speak out. Again. Instead, she tilts her head and waits for him to notice someone standing nearby. His reaction will tell her if he knows her not. The way he is dressed and the fact that he is bearded causes her heart to lift but she still she waits.

[frankensteinian]

His examination of the lobby eventually brings his eyes back around to where she's standing. He just looks for a moment, as though trying to decide if she's really there, and once he's blinked a few times and she's still standing there, he lets himself turn in her direction. But he doesn't come any closer yet. It could still be some kind of trick.

"Claire?"

[guessihavelostcount]

Claire's relief is both instantaneous and palpable when he says her name. A rush of air escapes her with a sigh as her shoulders noticeably relax and a smile comes to her lips. Then she moves towards her, knowing that there is still a chance that maybe he could be different yet but she doesn't think so. She knows he is the type to be wary too but for different reasons.

"It's me." She tells him as she gets close. There is a brief hesitation but then she moves to hug him with her arms around his waist because that's what she does. She likes to hug.

[frankensteinian]

Sometimes he doesn't mind hugs. This is one of those times. He returns the hug, his arms reaching somewhat higher than her waist due to the difference in their heights. He'd almost forgotten what this was like.

"I didn't think I'd see you again." She'd just been gone, like so many others before and since. One more thing he'd lost.

[guessihavelostcount]

For a second she looks confused by the statement but it doesn't take long for her to understand what he means. Easing back a little without leaving the circle of his arms, she focuses on his face with a sigh.

"How long ago did I disappear?" She hates that she did but that sort of thing is out of her control. Still, it doesn't make her feel better as her heart aches a bit at knowing she had disappeared on him.

[shehasdreams]

Raven had arrived a day ago. She isn't sure how she got there. All she really knows is that she was there. Nothing looked familiar to her in the slightest. In the middle of nowhere, with nobody, she wanders along the road for the longest time. She's shifted, with blond hair and her normal visage until she knows where she is better. She hates to hide the blue, but sometimes it's just easier.

For the first day, she lingers outside the Inn, watching as people come and go. There are few places to hide, and the pull to be drawn inside is strong, but she lingers all the same. She tries to get information about the place, wandering around the perimeter, but she gains nothing.

It's not until the next day and he shows up, that's when she's more ready to enter. She watches him, sees the scruffy face and plaid shirt, thinking he doesn't look anything like she remembered. Slowly, she enters the inn and moves over to him, raising an eyebrow.

"Erik?"

[frankensteinian]

It doesn't startle him when she speaks (living in an environment like he has for the last couple of years, he's learned how to pay attention to his surroundings), but when he turns to look at her it's like he's seen a ghost. Which she might as well be, given how long it's been since he last saw her, and how they parted.

"Raven?" She's not Mystique, not when she's not blue, and that's the thought that switches something else in his mind, something he hadn't thought to consider yet.

He glances over at the door they'd both had to come in through and concentrates, and when the handle moves and the door opens without anyone touching it, a genuine smile crosses his face. He has missed that ability so much. It hasn't occurred to him yet to wonder how either of them got here.

[shehasdreams]

"Erik..." It's not a question this time. It's a statement. Clearly, it is him. He addressed her. She sighs, knowing what he means by using her name, not her moniker, but she doesn't yell at him for it. It's appropriate. She takes a step closer to him, her eyes narrowing as she looks him over.

He's different. Rougher. He's not the same Erik she would remember. Her head tilts to the side and she prepares to say something else when she watches his hand raise.

She steps to the side, out of the way so that she can watch the door move. When she turns back, she sees that smile on his face. It's a real smile, not something fake or, god forbid, sarcastic. After Cuba, she had been graced enough to see that smile.

She never thought she'd see it again.

Raven stands there, dumbfounded, staring at him. She has so many questions, so many things she wants to say and do but she's afraid to do any of it.

[frankensteinian]

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time." Which doesn't explain why he hasn't been able to, but Raven should at least understand the reason for the smile. She knows how much having those powers means to him.

He doesn't even have any bits of metal in his pocket that he can pull out to fiddle with. He'll be remedying that as soon as he can.

"Where are we?"

[shehasdreams]

"I... I'm not sure." Her voice is quiet, soft as she watches him. The more he speaks, the more questions that she has. He wasn't one to dampen his powers or hide them. After Washington, she could understand, but it still shocks her.

She likes the smile better than the use of his powers, if she was truly honest.

"It... It's a hotel. We're in the middle of nowhere, and yet this place just appears. It's strange."

Re: Erik Lehnsherr | X-men cinematic | RP transfer

[st_opsummoningme]

Another tall, scruffy, aged-beyond-his-years guest staring about him with disbelieving eyes. That was hardly novel anymore. And while fresh blood was not necessarily a bad thing, generously replenishing resources as of yet providing for them all, it had become rather routine.

The athletically petite blond woman with severe blue eyes (and perfectly clean clothing) considered passing him by without a word. Until she recognized him, and stopped.

"Fascinating. The Inn accepts even terrorists."

[frankensteinian]

Terrorists? Well, okay, maybe that's what they'd called him after what happened on the White House lawn, but none of his targets had died, and Nixon had turned out to have worse ideas than funding the Sentinel program. All he'd been doing was fighting for his people, after all, and it was the other side who had been left to make up the story.

One incident, and no one even died? That's hardly terrorism.

"Do I know you?" It's not a curious tone. It's a 'who are you to judge me' tone.

[st_opsummoningme]

"Apparently not. But your reputation precedes you, Magneto. One of the minor annoyances inherent to this place." Her expression remains impassive.

"I am Illyana Nikolaevna Rasputin," she tells him. "Also known as Magik." Not because she believes he will recognize her name. But rather because she doubts that he will.

[frankensteinian]

That name means nothing to him. Not as it applies to her, at least. "Rasputin. As in the revolutionary, or was that a different branch of the family?"

His name isn't the only one with a reputation attached to it.

[st_opsummoningme]

That was an interesting choice of word to apply to a notorious historical mage. "As in that Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin, yes. But I hardly knew him." That was multiple generations ago.

"A more relevant question is: which Magneto are you? From what possible world, what timeline - and how will it relate to the other mutants that reside here?" She arched an eyebrow at him expectantly.

Re: Erik Lehnsherr | X-men cinematic | RP transfer

[st_eampunk]

Ororo had been at the Inn only a few weeks. As she was still getting used to the environment and the people, she didn't notice who was a newcomer and who was an older inhabitant. It was only when she got a closer look at the older man that she stopped in surprise. He was familiar to her, but also like looking at a cracked reflection, subtle differences that tickled her brain. It was not the same man that had helped Jean rebuild the mansion.

"Magneto." Her voice held the small Nigerian accent as she spoke in English, but there was a smile of welcome and greeting.

[frankensteinian]

There's a name he hasn't heard in awhile. Then again, he hasn't really been Magneto in awhile, because he couldn't use his powers, and without them, is he really Magneto?

But he can feel all the metal here, ready to respond to a thought from him, and that has improved his mood immeasurably. Combine that with the friendly tone -- he's used to receiving the opposite -- and he's not quite so on edge anymore. But he still is a little, because he won't be left vulnerable.

"Do I know you?"

[st_eampunk]

He looked as he had when and Apocalypse had found him in Poland, yet still there were differences. She understood different realities, she'd met Kitty who knew another, much older version of her. Maybe this was the same. A Magneto before he lost his family and met her.

"We were - colleagues - once. Or I suppose another version of you and I were. I am Ororo Munroe and we met in Poland first and then we went to Egypt."

[frankensteinian]

"Poland." That's not a place that he'll forget soon, or what happened there. He knows that she had nothing to do with it, but they must have met not long after. He won't be able to stay in Poland for much longer, not after what happened. He doesn't know where he'll go, but he can't let them find him.

"I was there. I was in another place, before this, but before that I was in Poland."