TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[neosapienmods]

JANUARY TEST DRIVE

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1: SPRAWLING WASTELAND, GLOWING IN THE DARK

No sunlight reaches the Underground, but there is rain: grey, oily droplets that slowly trickle down from the city above, seeping through layers of concrete until they drip from broken light fixtures onto the aptly named black markets below. The glow of neon signs keeps the shadows at bay, just barely. What was once a system of utility tunnels and basement bunkers is now a warren of tiny shops offering reprogrammed ID chips and back-alley cybernetic upgrades, where hitmen and slave traders operate with lawless impunity. But someone is always watching... the eyes of Yakashbah, graffitied in bioluminescent paint, stare unblinking from the walls.

People come to this place for only two reasons: they're either looking for something, or they're trying not to be found. Whatever your reason, the Underground welcomes you.

2: A MIND OF DARKNESS, A HEART OF LIGHT

Outside of manicured parks and glass-enclosed vertical farms, green space is rare in New Gate City, so the elites flaunt their wealth in private rooftop gardens. Fragrant, exotic flowers bloom amidst strings of lanterns, and real grass - an extravagant luxury - carpets the ground beneath partygoers' feet as they sip champagne and admire the dark cityscape below. Tonight, one of the Douman Zaibatsu's myriad charity organizations hosts its annual fundraising gala... but this year, the special guests attract even more attention than the celebrities and fashionistas in attendance. Representatives from the Neo Sapien Organization have been invited to speak on the topic of Human/Meta-human relations, and to raise money on behalf of job placement programs for impoverished Metas in the Last Ward. Of course, most within the Douman Zaibatsu would prefer that these "job placement programs" send Metas to the farms far outside New Gate City (or better yet, to the lunar strip mines), but at least for tonight, members of both factions hide behind false smiles and false words.

3: AS FEAR'S REPLICATING, YOUR WORDS RESONATING

Someone gasps, and everyone looks up. Arcadia's central shopping district goes silent, save for the distant sound of pop tunes played over tinny speakers, as a massive black banner unfurls down the side of a building. A crudely drawn eye fills the banner, bisected by a line of white paint... the unofficial symbol of the Meta rights movement. People start to whisper, and somewhere, there's a cheer. Police drones buzz through the air above.

Meta rights protests aren't uncommon in this part of New Gate City, even though they're soon dispersed by local security forces. This banner, too, will be quickly taken down and destroyed, but the photos and videos of the event will be harder to suppress. Already, the bystanders are murmuring to each other, some in support and some in fear. Others keep their heads down, wary of expressing their true feelings about the rising numbers of Meta-humans. And as security forces move to block off the area, others are frantically trying to disappear.

4: A NEW HOPE GLISTENS OFF THE STREETS

The blocks surrounding the Neo Sapien Organization's headquarters in the Middle Ward are like an oasis at the center of an otherwise inhospitable city. Old buildings have been renovated into bright and cheerful apartments that accommodate a variety of Meta-human physiologies, Meta schools and Meta-owned businesses are flourishing, and Meta-friendly shops and cafes line the streets.

The best coffee in the Middle Ward can be found at The Mean Bean, just across from the NSO building, where the shop's fire-breathing Meta owner personally roasts every batch. NSO employees and and other patrons of the popular cafe congregate to discuss local news and gossip: a proposed Meta registration and identification law, rumors of vigilante gangs near the border with the Last Ward, and rivalries between NSO university sports teams. Arguments occasionally grow heated (especially when it comes to sports), but overall the atmosphere is friendly and congenial.

5: WITHIN THE CHAOS, I KNOW I'M NOT ALONE

The Last Ward's electrical grid is reliably unreliable, but blackouts on this scale are rare. Half the ward has been dark for the past three days, save for a few emergency generators and dwindling battery backups. As winter winds batter old, drafty concrete apartment blocks, the residents grow restless and frustrated. Police have already put down several riots, but there's no stopping the spike in looting and other petty crimes.

In the Parish, many people have opted to barricade themselves inside their homes until the blackout ends, but others are taking advantage of the chaos. Most, though, have chosen to band together to protect each other throughout the long nights. The people of the Parish may not have much, but at least they have a sense of community.

Comments

magnus the red | warhammer 40000 (horus heresy series)

[rubricatus]

2-A.

[ It's anyone's guess as to whether his presence here is wise. It's hard to stand out as other more than Magnus Sohrab does, between his inhuman height and the distinctive red of his skin. There even had to be accommodations made for him — something evidenced by the outsized glass in his hand, and one unusually large seat among the gala dinner tables. And that's even before getting into the controversy that surrounds his professional character.

Even so, Magnus himself seems perfectly at ease in this setting that seems to have been meant for anyone but him, and perhaps that was the gambit in selecting him to attend. He has effected an appearance of non-threatening humility for so long that it comes as second nature to him now, and he knows how to steer a conversation and engage someone on their interests. Given enough time, some of the people standing near him even start to look... comfortable?

It isn't everyone, of course. Perhaps not even half. But even those who remain disquieted by his presence have to pretend to at least have an open mind tonight — and every time he catches one of them suppressing a cringe, he feels a brief, vindictive flicker of satisfaction at the fact that they're forced to suppress it. ]

That depends — would you rather I be honest, or polite? [ This feels like the hundredth time he's said that tonight, but he punctuates the words with a soft laugh to show that he's speaking in jest. ] As I see it, the question we grapple with tonight is no different than dozens of others humanity has asked itself throughout history. There's no reason we should stumble around as if blind when we can already see what consequences ignorance has had, time and again.

[ Whether you're the person those words were meant for, a bystander who happens to overhear, or someone in need of a rescue from an unpleasant conversation of your own — well, Magnus welcomes anyone open to an honest dialogue. Or maybe just a break from the formalities. ]

2-B.

[ At some point in the evening, you may find that your dinner seat is next to his. In fact, he's the only other person at the table with you; where others seat three or four people, whoever was in charge of this arrangement apparently threw up their hands and decided this was the easiest way to navigate having one (1) Jumbo Size Spicy Big Dad among their guests.

If Magnus catches even a whiff of discomfort from you — whether that's discomfort with him or the rest of your surroundings — he'll turn an easy smile in your direction, threading just a hint of self-depreciation into the expression. ]

I suppose someone decided I'm enough company to count for two.

[ At player discretion, the words may be accompanied by a subtle calming feeling. Hm, weird! ]

3.

[ Though there is much in Arcadia that doesn't suit his tastes, there's always something here that speaks of new and sharp ideas. As such, Magnus isn't a wholly foreign sight among its crowds — just foreign enough to turn the heads of even its most regular visitors. He learned that it's best not to answer stares with indignation or defensiveness decades ago, so he keeps his attention on what he came here for: a cleverly composed light sculpture here, a street art-inspired print there...

He's examining the listings of a local theatre when the Yakashbah banner comes down. The first response that seizes his gut isn't shock or fear, but exasperation — really, today of all days?

Even he can't say if that question is for the timing of this protest or for his own in coming here. Without looking, he already knows that the stares turned toward him have changed in their color, and he can feel people pull back from him, as if his suspect nature will rub off on them if they stand too close, somehow. He sighs softly through his nose, pushing a psychic suggestion out into the air around him with a thought. There's nothing here worth looking at, it says — but, even as he does so, he knows there's little point in bothering. Too many people are already too on edge, making it difficult for his suggestion to take root.

In any case, fleeing the scene will only make him look more suspicious than he already does by simple virtue of what he is. He stands where he is, only taking a step aside to give the restless crowd easier passage past him. ]

2-B!

[ayoungman]

[John has been here more on happenstance than anything else. His father was here to apparently play a large part for the organization itself, although he wasn't sure quite what for. Maybe a starting act to ease tension perhaps? That sounds like something a professional funnyman would be capable of.

Regardless, what John was stuck doing was far from as interesting. Being told to behave himself while his father wandered off to do what he was paid to, he was forced to sit still in his light green suit and bow tie, and simply behave himself.

Which was exactly why he decided to immediately take his seat and spark up a questionable conversation with the biggest most intimidating looking guy here because, well, who else was there to talk to?

Funny though, he really didn't feel the slightest bit nervous to respond.]

Wooahh... you're so...big! Is it hard fitting through doors?

[Ah, words from the mouths of babes.]

[rubricatus]

[ Indeed. From the mouths of babes is much the same thought that runs through Magnus's mind, and his smile turns more genuine with it. ]

So I've heard.

[ He means it in good humor, though. After all, is to teach with his presence not the reason he's here? There's hardly a pause before he continues, ] It can be, at times. There are some places in this city that are designed with accommodations in mind, but many more that aren't. And, [ and here his one eye crinkles with conspiratorial mirth, Magnus leaning just a little closer to John's level, ] you wouldn't believe how difficult it is to have a suit fitted for these events.

[ayoungman]

I mean, I suppose. But most suits are usually tailored anyway right? Though I'm sure it's not cheap.

I can't imagine anything's that cheap actually if you're double sizing everything. How much do you eat?

[A giant red dude like this had to have more than double the amount of food to sustain himself.]

And what about your house? Like is your home twice the size of a normal place so that everything can accommodate you?

[rubricatus]

[ Before he can answer that first observation with a light joke about cheap suits, the boy has already moved on to a new question, and then another one after that. It makes Magnus hesitate for the briefest of moments, considering how best to respond. ]

You're right; there's little in my life that has come cheaply or easily. [ In the end, he decides to address the shared spirit of those queries, rather than trying to answer each one in a rapid-fire line. ] At your age, I already knew that I would spend my life ducking through doorways and ordering specially-sized clothes. Nonetheless, I can say that I was raised in fortunate circumstances: by a man both wealthy enough to live in the same luxury that surrounds us now, [ he throws his hand out in a grand, sweeping gesture at the rooftop garden's scenery, naturally, ] and kind enough to leave it behind for the sake of remaining my father.

Yet there are many like myself who aren't so lucky. [ If the theatrical gesture and impassioned words weren't enough to give it away, he's getting really into his impromptu speech, the cadence of his voice falling into something much like the delivery one would expect from him on-stage. ] Either they can't afford the burden of more food, new clothes, and household renovations — or they're born to families unwilling to sacrifice their comfortable lives and vaunted reputations for the sake of the children they ought to protect.

[ ... ]

But to answer you a bit more succinctly, more or less. I've put my home through a number of renovations over the years, and I believe it fits me quite comfortably at this point.

[ Whew, nice save. He almost let himself get carried away for a second!! ]

[ayoungman]

.... So that's what it's like, huh?

[John couldn't help but feel himself go into a slight state of awe upon listening in to Magnus's impassioned statement. It felt overwhelming, and slightly intimidating, especially coming from such a big and strong looking guy. But there was something familiar about those words too.]

I mean, it sounds really tough... And I can sort of get it... Maybe...

[And then he tensed, putting his hand so up in defense as he let out a light chuckle.]

Erm! That is! Not that I really get it. I grew up kind of cushy because my dad worked hard all his life to take care of me, and we don't really have to deal with the problem meta-humans have to because we're not but--

[He looked down seeming to get a little more serious.]

My Nana was a meta-human. I never knew her, but my dad always talks about all the things he had to deal with as a kid because of it. They came from a really powerful family too apparently but, well, I guess they lost a lot of it when my Nana was revealed to be what she was.

I live a good life, and I get that, but I guess even though I'm not suffering like so many are my dad still had to struggle a lot just to get out of it and make sure I get to live like this. I couldn't imagine how hard it must be actually living it...

3

[windblownrose]

[There's too many people between himself and the nearest metro station for Andrei to disappear from the plaza without breaking into a run -- and running would paint an obvious target on his back for every circling surveillance drone. He's tall enough to stand out, and his eclectic thrift-store ensemble would draw attention in this district even under normal circumstances. No, he needs to--

not look to his left, there's nothing there worth looking at--

His head snaps up, eyes widening with instant, sharp fear. That wasn't his thought. Probably. He's been told he's paranoid. Still: he checks to his left, just in case, and spots a man whose height does more than merely stand out amongst the crowd.

Andrei isn't exactly well-informed about the city's elite, but he watches the occasional newscast, and it's absolutely impossible to mistake well-spoken frequent pro-meta-human-rights guest speaker Professor Sohrab for any other denizen of the city. Odds are, it has nothing to do with that odd little thought. Odds are, he really is just paranoid. For a moment, he weighs his options: but a well-known and well-regarded meta-human with connections is a touch less likely to be hassled by police than an out-of-place meta-human in cheap and mismatched clothes, and Andrei has a terrible tendency to start sparking at the tips of his hair and fingers when he's nervous.

Perhaps he can invoke meta-human solidarity.

Putting on a broad, faintly manic smile, he steps closer and glances up (and up and up) at the professor.]

Good evening! Are you here for the shopping? There are some remarkable deals at Smith & Co. Cybertronics.

[It doesn't take much relaxation of his control to let a few stray sparks jump from strand to strand of his graying shoulder-length hair.]

[rubricatus]

[ At the sound of that voice, Magnus glances down. For a moment, it looks as though he's about to wave him off, a hand half-lifting from his side — but then he sees the sparks popping from the man's hair, and if Andrei was trying to invoke his sympathies, it works. Magnus's expression immediately softens, and the movement of his hand turns into a very brief, very careful pat on the back. ]

I am, but not for anything so straightforward. [ He plays along with the conversation, answering that just slightly over-broad smile with a mild one of his own. ] The art you find in some storefronts here is actually quite remarkable. I think I've seen cleverer tricks of color and perspective from the amateurs here than I have in any of Central Ward's galleries.

[windblownrose]

[Andrei absolutely was trying to invoke sympathy, but his nerves are strung tight enough that the sparks keep dancing despite the fact that it seems to have worked. He's not sure if the cut-rate fake ID chip he's currently carrying is good enough to fool a police database, and he'd love not to have to find out the hard way.

Despite his nervousness, though, he visibly brightens at Magnus's turn of conversation.]

Why yes! You are an art appreciator? There are always unexpected gems, and, of course, all the most modern trends are on the streets.

[He laughs, a bit self-conscious.]

But I'm no expert myself.

[rubricatus]

[ As Magnus answers, his words are paired with an easy nod. ]

I suppose "appreciator" is the word. There's enough space in my home that I have to fill it with something.

[ There's a small quirk at the corner of his mouth, and a subtle lilt to the tone of his voice, that marks his answer as something of a joke at his own expense. Because everything has to be so large to accommodate him — get it?

What he says next is meant earnestly, though, and his tone falls back into something more serious to reflect that. ]

I like the classics as well, of course. Still, I like to encourage talent where I find it. I suppose you could say I'm a man of eclectic tastes — though I think the aesthetics of modernity suit me best, personally.

[windblownrose]

[Andrei's chuckle is mostly polite. Having a very large house is not exactly something he empathizes with -- but then, it's not as though it's a luxury for a man over ten feet tall.]

What else is there to do with all that wall space? Really, I sympathize, I've knocked my skull on the occasional door frame; going out and about can be a trial for the man of above average height.

[In a tone of confession, he adds:] I'm terribly deficient in my classical education. What is that annoying phrase? "I don't know art but I know what I like"? Which in my case is mostly modern, er. What's the word?

[He frowns, nose wrinkling, and waves a hand.] Not too abstract?

2-a

[crusaderess]

[ Jotako sometimes wondered if she should feel guilty that she had some gratitude towards Magnus for being distracting enough that less people noticed her. Her height wasn't a Meta trait, sure, but it still made her stand out most of the time, and his presence just helped distract wandering eyes that usually all settled on her, something she absolutely loathed. So it was no wonder she stuck by him most of the time. Her intimidating aura could rest in his presence, too, allowing herself to keep from ruining the moment.

It didn't help, though that she just about didn't speak at all, even when addressed, letting questions go awkwardly unanswered at all. Thankfully, once again, Magnus had stepped in to her rescue. Her gratitude was hard for most to measure, but for him, it was unmistakable. Always had been. ]

[rubricatus]

[ In moments like these, they made an almost perfect complement. Where she loathed attention, Magnus almost seemed to thrive on it, drawing energy from the positive and negative alike. It made it seem only natural that he did (more than) the bulk of the talking between them, until, finally, he saw an opportunity for them to excuse themselves. Or, at least, for him to excuse Jotako from the awkward burden of social expectations.

There's a promise made that he'll return to the current line of discussion later, and as he turns around, he bends enough that he can lower his voice a little to address her. It's about as much as he can ever ask for, unless he wants to kneel down to speak to people. ]

Would you like another drink? [ There's an edge of mischief to his tone that says he isn't being wholly serious when he adds, ] I've never managed to get properly drunk, but I wouldn't mind trying on the Douman Zaibatsu's dime.

[ He says nothing of the rescue, or her gratitude for it. So far as he's concerned, it doesn't even bear mentioning. ]

[crusaderess]

They don't have my flavor here... [ The cheap beer she famously littered cans of around her office back at HQ... ] But you make a good point. We aren't paying for it.

[ In all honesty, she's a little curious as to what he'd even be like while drunk. ]

[rubricatus]

[ This isn't the night to find out, honestly. He needs his impulse-to-action filter firmly intact. Of course, that isn't going to stop him from joking about it. ]

So they don't. If only our hosts had a refined enough palate for it.

[ Or, at least, weren't so concerned with appearing as if they didn't. Magnus straightens his bent posture and gestures her forward with the glass in his own hand. ]

[crusaderess]

[ Jotako went along with him to the drink station, rather curtly ordering two beers. They were both for herself, but she knew beer wasn't really Magnus' bag, after all. She'd tried barking up that tree. ]

2-B

[mammal_robot]

[Robo felt awkward, as he always did at meals. He had food in front of him that he idly toyed with, but he obviously couldn't eat it.

So maybe having Magnus sitting next to him had an advantage.]

Hey, I'll take it. For once, not everyone is staring at me.

[A robot in a business suit is an unusual sight, but next to a bright red giant, he barely warranted a second glance.]

whoop sorry for the delay

[rubricatus]

[ Robo's comment earns a laugh, and though it's a carefully polite sound, there is some real amusement to be found in it as well. ]

I don't suppose it would shock you to hear that you aren't the only one to feel that way? [ The smile widens as Magnus replies, self-deprecation falling from the expression. ] Though, admittedly, not every one is so willing to admit it.

all good

[mammal_robot]

[He shrugged, slightly.] I think you have the look of a man who has made peace with being the center of attention.

[rubricatus]

Or perhaps you simply have a good eye.

[ But however true that is, no, Robo is definitely correct. A man doesn't use his inheritance commissioning custom-sized rings without knowing exactly what he's doing. Magnus gives his head a little shake, maybe in amusement at his own vanity, as he says, ]

It's been an unavoidable part of my life, wherever I go. If I hadn't learned to enjoy it, I would never leave the house.

[mammal_robot]

I can DEEPLY relate.

[Robo gestured with a fork at the whole gathering.]

Do you think anything is actually going to come of all this? I've been to more of these dinners than I can count.

2A

[idk_idk_idk]

[The man seated to Huaisang's left is nearly double his height and several times his muscle mass... but then again, the latter isn't really saying much. Dwarfed by his dinner companion, he cringes visibly every time a massive elbow swings towards his head. He squeezes the stem of his wine glass so tightly that he fears it might shatter, and forces another tasteless gulp of champagne down his throat. It does little to settle his nerves.

What are you afraid of, Huaisang? That red demon? You're stronger than he is, or you could be. He can almost hear the strict, disapproving voice of his dead brother echoing in his thoughts, as if all the scoldings he'd given during life weren't enough. You come from a long line of devils.

Belatedly, he realizes that the red demon is watching him with what appears to be mild amusement, the way a tiger regards a mouse. Not even worth eating.]

Eh? Ah... were you talking to me?

[Huaisang hasn't touched his meal - hasn't trusted himself to. The silverware is only silver-plated steel after all, and it trembles in response to his fear. With his meta-human ability to create magnetic fields, he could turn every knife at the dinner table against the beast... but that would mean exposing his family's secret. His untouched knife shifts slowly towards the other man, until Huaisang places his champagne glass on the table to stop its advance. Someone must have bumped the table, that's all.]

That is... um... you're absolutely right, of course! That's why the foundation is allocating funding for Meta-Human housing and community programs, so they'll have somewhere safe to live... [Safe, and preferably far away. He can be polite, too.] Together we can, um, ensure a peaceful and prosperous future for everyone, right?

[No, brother, I'm not afraid of that demon... I'm afraid of myself.]

[rubricatus]

[ The man's tension would be hard to miss, even if Magnus hadn't taught himself to regard others with such a critical eye. He keeps his face a pleasant mask appropriate to dinner conversation, but privately, he allows himself a moment of exasperation. So much as he has tried to keep a light touch this evening, it's enough for him consider making an exception.

He doesn't, though. However much he would like to, his unfortunate dinner partner seems far too tense to be corrected with a simple nudge. As he hears the rattle of silverware against the table's top, Magnus sets down his glass as well.

Gently. ]

That, I believe, is the goal. [ His tone is kept lightly bantering, with no mockery to be (easily) found in it. ] But I'm sure all of us have already had enough of that conversation tonight, haven't we? Let us use this meal as a moment to put such weighty topics aside, and focus our minds somewhere more pleasant.

[ No, talking about it is the whole point in his being here, but maybe this man will be more comfortable on ground that is less charged. As with his voice, his expression is deliberately amicable as he watches for a response — and any tremble disturbing the carefully arranged tableware. ]

[idk_idk_idk]

Y-yes, of course!

[You're the one who brought up such a weighty topic in the first place! Or at least that's what Huaisang would say, if he had the courage to. Instead, he looks up and gives a strained smile. Even here in Central, open hostility is considered to be a bit of a social faux pas, and he'd hate for anyone to to think him unsophisticated. He reaches into his sleeve to pull out a delicately painted folding fan, then snaps it open to cover his embarrassment.]

I-I'm Nie Huaisang, by the way, from the Qinghe Foods corporation. That is to say, um, I'm the owner... we produce bioengineered meat products, but I'm a vegetarian so I don't really know what I'm doing...

[He hides behind self-deprecation the same way he hides behind his paper fan. It's not much of a shield against the world, but with no conscious control over his meta-human abilities, it's the best defense he has. In the nearly ten years since he inherited leadership of his company, he's steadily risen through the middling ranks of the Douman Zaibatsu's countless subsidiaries... Huaisang knows the value of being underestimated.]

[rubricatus]

[ At that, his eyebrows arch. Then, he shakes his head, his lips pulling back into a wider smile — as if Huaisang has just told a joke that he very nearly missed. ]

If that were true, I have my doubts that you would be in charge. [ He might not know much about Qinghe Foods in the particular, but he doesn't need to in order to say as much. New Gate City's world of business is an unforgiving place, and if this man truly had no understanding of his job, he would have already been forced from it — by competition within and without. ]

I am Dr. Magnus Sohrab. [ Sometimes, introducing himself feels pointless, his appearance distinctive enough that he is recognized in places only by word of mouth. Still, it's only polite to answer an introduction with one in reply, and he wouldn't dream of assuming a businessman has the same concerns as himself. ] A simple educator working in cooperation with the NSO.

[ Besides, Magnus is no stranger to false modesty himself. ]