maskormenace | Entries tagged with † gwen wynne-york

March 2021

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WILL YOU HELP SAVE THE WORLD?

Mask or Menace is a panfandom urban 'superhero' genre DWRP game, where heroes, villains, and everyone in between seek to survive and thrive in a world loosely parallel to our own.

wordaday

[Coming to you live, from some motel parking lot, it's Sookie! She's settled up on the hood of her car, wrapped in a thin blanket despite the heat. She looks tired, worried.]

Hey from Shreveport, y'all. [Sookie smiles weakly, gives the camera a little wave.] I guess I planned my vacation about the right time, huh? I just hope everyone's doing okay back home. Can't even get a flight back into De Chima right now, they turned me away at the ticket counter.

[She sighs then, scrubbing a hand across her eyes like she's fighting sleep.]

I'm sure everyone's distracted right now, but- [A pause]- I came out to Louisiana to, oh, I don't know. I looked it up when I first got here and I knew my hometown wasn't here, but I just had to check, y'know? Can't trust everything you read online.

[Ahem.]

I mean, the parish ain't even here. Looks like there was never any Renard Parish at all, it's all eaten up by the ones that were around it at home. Shreveport is here, at least, but it's all different. This motel here's sitting where my friend's bar is supposed to be. It's all so weird. Is this like this for everyone else, whole towns and counties vanishing into thin air? Has anyone even been able to find their old home?

It's just...weird, is all.

brandishes

( Now, the face might be familiar enough to the people here when it appears over the network, but Beth doesn't realise just how popular her face is here just yet. She's quite happy to bring it out for the world to see, tired as she might feel, and even if it feels like the effort of mustering a smile might just do her in completely right now she still musters a twist at the corner of her mouth that is, at least, a gesture close enough to pass. )

So, this place is wild. ( The voice is accented, but not heavy, Canadian if anyone knows to listen for it. More prominently, she speaks with a tight jaw, clipped with a slightly mocking drawl to the words. If nothing else, that should set her slightly apart from the other lookalikes floating around. ) Who've I gotta kill for a decent cup of coffee, huh?

( It's supposed to be funny - and she's smiling as if it was - but something is just...off. It's not quite far enough off of a grimace to be a real grin, the muscles twitch in her jaw like she's clenching her teeth, and she seems incredibly distracted despite the fact that she's obviously chosen this moment to make her post. Finally she gives up the act, face falling into a neutral expression as she huffs out a breath forceful enough to blow the sprawling hairs out of her face. )

Also, I could do with...another go of that arrival 101 if anyone's got a minute.

( There's another pause, another attempt at a grin, and then a weak wave: )

Thanks.

( And with that, she's out. )

buile

tits
tit pictures
blonde girl tits
american tits
( what do you mean this isn't the google function )

restingstitchface

Why are terrible books popular?

Look around, I'm sure you'll find examples of bad writing. Books that are an agony to force oneself to keep reading. Books that tell you nothing you didn't already know. Shockingly dreadful novels can become classics, to boot. The most popular works suffer from pages of bad writing, yet are regarded as saving reading.

That's hardly true, is it? Not if people don't expand their horizons and cling to their, ah, fandoms.

...

Now. Might you name the books you love and hate? I would also like to hear examples of literature from this world that you enjoy or consider dire, if you would.

shifting

I'm gonna try and keep this short.

[says a smiling Sam Merlotte, wearing familiar plaid and jeans against the familiar wood and glass backdrop of his bar.]

My name's Sam Merlotte. I live in De Chima and I run Merlotte's, which - if I'm allowed to brag a bit - is probably about the best bar and grill you could stumble into or out. Now, this isn't the first time I've thrown my hat in this particular ring, and there's a lot about what I stand for that I think you're gonna find in common with the other candidates, but I don't think that's a bad thing. Core values are what shapes a community.

Community's my platform. People don't say it enough, but we're a remarkable group - and not really for the things people do talk about us for. ImPorts start off here a bunch of strangers with our lives turned upside down, and yet instead of scatterin' to the winds, we build somethin' together. You see it every month, how we offer help to newcomers and answer questions. And while we've also got our troublemakers, that exception doesn't break the rule. Time and again I've seen trouble hit and imPorts join one another to reach out and speak up.

And in the end, that's what an ambassador is: the voice of the community. Given the opportunity to be the Ambassador of De Chima, I'd like to use that voice to strengthen inter-community communication between ourselves, the government, and the natives. More specifically, I'd like to work with the other Ambassadors to start regular town halls in the imPort cities for community outreach, and to open the floor for imPorts to address concerns and discuss solutions. I'd also like to look into establishin' a more official welcome wagon for new imPorts, to ease the imPortation process. Both of which I'm perfectly willin' to get into more detail about with anyone who'd like to ask... but I think I've already pushed my own time limit.

[Sam straightens and nods to the camera.]

So lemme just leave you with this: however strong you are, I believe we're stronger together. And if that's somethin' you'd like to see represented in De Chima, I hope you'll vote Merlotte.

couldbebeautiful

Where I'm from, "righteous" means both "morally upright" and "amazing; excellent", but you're not gonna find that last one in a dictionary. A while ago, I talked to someone who understood the word as the first meaning, but not the second.

I've also had to tell people what some of the swear words I'm used to hearing mean. [Nothing like telling your seven-foot-tall robot friend about swearing, right?] And they've got swear words that I don't get either.

I guess the point of this is: what's slang like in your world? What's swearing like in your world? Would you know what I was talking about if I said fuck or asshole, or would we have to have a very awkward talk about that?

[A pause, then:] I'd also love to hear a sample, if you've got some.

shutterbugged

Hey, Network. I didn’t mean to go so long without posting, but it’s been, uh, a while--

[ --since shortly before he was unmasked on the network by Tony Stark’s evil alternate universe counterpart, actually. THANKS FOR THAT, BUDDY.

In deference to the new status quo, Peter is wearing one of his usual button-downs with the sleeves rolled up, but with the collar unbuttoned enough that the red of his costume peeks through. Baby steps! ]

If we haven’t met, I’m Peter Parker, also known as [ cough ] Spider-Man, and I’ve been here for a few years now, so if you’re new and have questions about how to manage this whole kidnapped-to-another-universe thing, I can try to field them. Not that you can’t ask if you’re not new, but anyway.

I've got two announcements to make--sort of a good news, bad news kind of thing.

[ Clasping his hands together: ] First, the good news! As some of you saw on a recent Majority Report, I'm going to be working with Kanaya Maryam, Norman Osborn, and Revan on our new venture to provide costumes and equipment to the superheroic masses. I'm really excited to be working with the team, and I want to thank Kanaya and Normie for bringing me on. Details at the link below, etcetera, etcetera.

[ There's an attached link which will take the curious onlooker or potential client to the project's website. ]

For the record, I'm signing on as one of the tech-heads. My job is to do everything in my power to help you use your powers most effectively and then get home safely. I've been advised in the strongest possible terms that I'm not allowed to give fashion advice under the auspices of the company--[ He may be slightly grumpy about this. His costume's a classic, Kanaya!!! ]--so for that you'll have to ask Kanaya.

( cut for spider-man brand motormouthery(tm) )

devoutish

[Alfie Solomons is drunk. Not incredibly drunk, mind - more like slightly tipsy. He's feeling extra homesick tonight, and he doesn't feel like going out and doing anything or seeing anybody, but he doesn't feel like sitting around and staring at walls, either. The network is a good place to turn to here, because he can just shut it off when he gets sick of it.

And so tonight, everyone gets this.]

There was once a little village that needed a new synagogue built, and so all the strongest men got together and went off into the mountains to gather stone for its foundation. At the top, they heaved the biggest boulders that they could carry onto their shoulders and started walking back down. When, after many hours, they finally reached the village at the bottom, one of their grandmothers stuck her head out her window and called to her grandson: "Are you stupid, boy? Why didn't you just roll those boulders down the mountain?" The men stopped walking and looked at each other, and then, still carrying the boulders, they turned right around. They climbed that big fuck-off mountain again, and when they reached the top, they rolled the stones down. "She was right," one man said to another. "That was a much better idea."

[He pauses there, signaling the end of the story before he speaks again.]

There's a point to jokes like that. I'm sure it'll be relevant to one or two of you.

[He clears his throat, settling back against the arm of his couch.]

The prankster Hershele Ostropoler goes to peddle goods at the market. A man comes by his stall to have a look at a blank canvas he has on display. "Ah, see this here, this is a very nice painting," Hershele says. "Very valuable; very expensive. It's of the Jews crossing the Red Sea as they flee the Egyptians."

"Ridiculous!" the man says. "Where are the Jews?"

"Well, they've already crossed, haven't they," Hershele says.

"Then where are the Egyptians?"

"They haven't yet arrived."

"And the Red Sea?"

Hershele throws up his hands in frustration. "It's been parted, you idiot; you don't know the fucking story?"

[comment 4 more; he's in a Mood.]

pummelgranite

[ The video feed is just some extremely high definition footage of a bouquet of flowers blooming and then dying in what surely must be time-lapse. But no here come all the cute bugs at regular speed to munch on the plants. This is all set on black velvet and surrounded by what seems to be pieces of some small predator's skeleton cast in silver. ]

So everyone wants to know if your world has magic or space travel or- I dunno, pop-punk?

Here's the real question, is anyone from a world where there are doctors who don't constantly sound like they're trying to talk you into crawling up their ass to live with them in there?

mansplane

[ Well this network post is a mess from start to finish. It opens on a blank ceiling, followed shortly by someone’s hands getting in the way of the camera. Clearly this belongs to someone who has gotten a crash course in how to use a phone but still doesn't really get the whole portable camera thing. For all that he’s clearly struggling with this damn piece of … whatever it’s made out of, he can’t help but look a little bit amused with himself. One thing he’s learned is to accept weird things as being possible even if they’re really weird. A blur of blond hair and blue eyes comes into view for a moment as he tries to line himself up where he thinks the camera is. ]

Look, this isn’t my first time waking up somewhere new and mildly terrifying. But last time I got a better welcoming party.

[ Focus, Steve. At least the swear-in helped him realize that there's basically no point to keeping most of his secrets, so he might as well introduce himself. And fess up to being super lost. ]

I'm Steve Trevor. And last I checked it was 1918, so - uh - this is all kind of overwhelming.

[ A beat. And just the slightest hint of longing. He knows it's a longshot, but he's got to ask. ]

Anyone know a gal named Diana Prince? Tall, muscular, Amazonian?

socialactivillain

Hello, imPorts. Some of you might already know me, but there have been a lot of new faces around since the last time I really put myself in the public spotlight. My name is Hartley Rathaway, but most people just call me Piper.

Since I arrived here a year ago, I've been deeply involved with several native-run charities—most notably Helping Hands, Open Hearts in Heropa, Aid De Chima, No One Alone in Maurtia Falls, and Color House in Nonah. Things like homelessness, hunger, and poverty shouldn't be an issue in places as technologically advanced and progressively-minded as our Porter cities, but they seem to be universal constants.

To step up my assistance in these causes that I feel so strongly about, I've decided to start my own organization, focused on imPort aid to the native communities in our cities. Ideally, we'll network with the existing organizations to get more imPorts involved in giving back to the communities that made space for us in their world, and focus on imPort-related issues that affect those communities, such as imPort-related crime and disasters.

So I'm here today looking for imPorts who are either willing to volunteer their time or money, as well as those who would be interested in seeking a career in this line of work. Paid positions will be limited, as our resources are better spent invested in the communities we'll be supporting, but I'm looking for some folks with previous history in public service, similar volunteer organizations, or office work.

Feel free to contact me here, or at my private contact.

[ He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should end on that note or continue with his last request. Sheepishly, he goes on. ]

...Also, if anyone has any suggestions for naming this organization, that's really all that's holding me back from filing the final paperwork to get this thing off the ground.

Puns appreciated, but only good ones.

flowerette

I'm curious.

[ Raina is seated in her living room, legs tucked up beneath her on the couch. It's a relaxed and casual position, best suited for a relaxed and casual conversation. ]

So many people come and go here. There are very few of us who have been static for years. Even fewer who have been here since the beginning. But the longer you're here, the more losses you tend to face. And the more time that passes, the more everyone else forgets about some of those people who were once here. So I'd like to hear stories of friends who have gone, lovers who have vanished, and people you'll never forget. The only way we can keep memories alive is to share them. I mean, who knows when you or I could become nothing more than a memory...and the least we can do is honor those memories by talking about them.

[ She sits up slowly, draping her arm over her knees. ]

But more than all of that, and perhaps a more relevant question to the newer arrivals -- if you had the opportunity to visit a lost friend's world just to see them again, would you? Even knowing that there's a chance they might not remember you? It is a painful thing to be forgotten, but perhaps there could be a comfort in seeing them alive and happy once again -- a sense of closure that we so seldom receive in this world. Or as always, perhaps it's best to leave well enough alone. I'm just interested to hear where everyone falls in their opinions on the matter.

pillz

they talk a lot about right and wrong. what stops you from hurting someone, what eats you up from the inside out if you do.

so what if your skin doesn't crawl when you hear someone scream in pain?

what if you feel no pain when you see someone's legs break right at the bone

what if they didn't remind you of anybody you cared about? what if the blood or whatever didn't make you think about going to hell or puking up your pancakes or crying or anything

what if you knew how not to get caught

what if it was fun

what would stop you from fucking people up

edit for ooc: Kavinsky is writing from inside a psychiatric ward and being monitored to an extent. I will be assuming that any communications marked 'private' need to be too garbled or distorted for surveillance to pick up, but everything else is fair game!

catchacold

[The video opens with a turtle on a skateboard. The turtle has an emblem on its shell, a lightning bolt in a white circle. It looks rather unperturbed by the entire situation.

A slight shuffle can be heard and then the turtle's skateboard gets a push. It starts rolling across the room. The turtle looks as nonplussed as a turtle can look. It's not very.

The skateboard isn't moving all that fast, but for a turtle? Pretty damn fast. The camera moves along with it, only slightly shaky. A hand can be seen stopping the skateboard before it hits the sofa. The same hand shortly thereafter produces a lettuce leaf and puts it down on the skateboard, something that gets more of the turtle's interest than the entire adventure so far.

While the turtle eats, the hand holds up a sign that reads: THE FASTEST TURTLE ALIVE!]

[The camera zooms out a little, showing a sleeping Mick Rory, stretched out on the sofa with a sign propped up against him.]

[Finally the camera turns, revealing the face of the mastermind behind all this, angling the shot so he can be seen sitting on the ground, leaning back against the sofa and petting the turtle's shell.]

This turtle needs a name for its secret identity. I take suggestions!

[He moves to turn the feed off, then thinks better of it.]

Rincewind, tell me if you want your turtle back. Just remember that it has the heard of a hero. [Wait, this is Rincewind he's addressing.] Metaphorically.

Also, Flash? You're on. My money's on the turtle.

Anyone else care to make a bet? Fastest Man Alive or the turtle, tell me your odds.

devoutish

ws lukng up infrmatn abt nu splngs usd n txt cmmncatn n fns n cmputrs etc n mst of wut I fnd ws fckng wingng abt kds toda bng lzy n nt noing hw to spl prprly as f ts wr a mdrn fckng invntn

tr r sum difs n nw tngs hv bn dn wi em tt we ddnt do n t pst wi r telgrfs ex t nos splly r clvr

inform8ion, 4warned, 2day

bt t ida ws crtnly nt invntd bi 21st cntry chldrn s py rspct 2 ur eldrs wo wr fr bttr t bng incmprhnsbl tn ur kds toda

wn i gt trd f mi tny tlfn kybrd im guna rite al mi txts lk ts

( OOC translation for people who don't hate themselves )

idesof

[Video opens on the lobby of a hotel in art deco styling before James Patrick March comes into frame, wearing a tuxedo with a black cravat instead of any bowtie. He takes a look around before standing in what he seems to assume is the middle of the frame...before rethinking this and taking a few steps to the side. The camera follows. This puts him at the front desk. He puts a hand out to strike a relaxed sort of pose that definitely isn't a pose but looks like a pose that is trying so hard not to be one.]

How do I look?

[The camera man's voice is recognizable to those who have been to the Castile before, a particularly foul-mouthed bellhop who has a different name every time you ask.]

Freakishly overdressed. Like always.

Thank you. Please, tell me when you're about to start. Give a countdown, perhaps?

Nah. It's already runnin', boss.

[March's jaw tenses, his eyes have a glint. This is not the look of a happy boss. But it passes as quickly as it's there, replaced with a charming smile that comes across as completely genuine.]

Hello. My name is James Patrick March, and this is my hotel. [He gestures around, looks up.] The Hotel Castile. I've been extremely honored to meet many of you, and am positive there are many more I've yet to meet I would be just as honored by. On that note, any imPort who finds themselves in need of a place to stay in our fair city of Maurtia Falls will be granted half off any room here they'd like, standing offer as long as I captain this ship.

[His smile falls a bit, indicating a switch of topic to something more serious. And as March speaks, the video function slowly zooms in, first on his cravat, then over his head to focus on an EMERGENCY EXIT sign. March continues to speak, obviously unaware his camera man is such a little shit.]

Recently, I've come to realize there are quite a few in our population like myself. Like the people I know. I make no secret that I am a ghost, but ghosts were not all that haunted the hallways of my home. Ghosts, those beautiful creatures who needed blood to survive, witches, psychics, we had a little bit of everything! And, damn it all, I do miss it. So I would like to offer a more personal invitation to all you fantastic, lovely folks who fall into those other categories. Room and board, food and drink, simple conversation, name it, we pride ourselves on discretion and confidentiality here, and I've rather a craving to add familiarity into that list.

[The camera moves about to literally anything that is not March — it takes an interest in two women coming out of the elevator, in staff going about their business, anything happening behind him so it doesn't appear obvious that March is not really in this picture.]

I believe that was all I had to address today. Hm?

S'all you told me, Jimjam.

Charming — cut it, won't you?

Yep.

[Except...he doesn't. Not immediately, anyway, the Network is treated to a good twenty seconds of one of the staff on break eating a sandwich. Nothing really fascinating, but there are some men who simply should not be trusted to record literally anything.

ooc. if it's your first time interacting with jpm please visit his permissions thank you!]

$nastygram: (C:\livelock)$

nastygram

[The video, when it begins, is on a loop: three minute segments of anonymous space, with a steady stream of white noise.

The white noise continues until, eventually, it is broken by a voice thick with electronic distortion.]

Hello, imPorts.

The natives here are more than happy to believe that their government is looking out for their best interest. The same cannot be said for us, the imPorts: we who were dragged here from our homes, assigned houses, powers, jobs. Categorized, classified, tracked, yes, and monitored, paid off within a meager system of incentivization and reward, motivated by our own complacency to both sit down and shut up. From the dawn of imPort history it has been left up to us, the imPorts, to figure out this whole new life beneath these new and foreign stars. And does the government care? No. Not as long as you follow their rules. Do they care about our best interests? No. They only care that we abide by their rules.

We are the Constellation, and we are here to tell you that we do not believe in these rules. We have been hard at work figuring out our new lives, for you. And we have found that while we were busy not trusting the government--they have been just as busy not trusting us.

We, the imPorts, are not favored children. We, the imPorts, are not cherished heroes. We are the ones who are watched, always, by the most fixed and sleepless and critical of eyes.

We have a list, imPorts, a list that we are leaking to you now, live, for your perusal and your understanding.

Fuu Hououji. Commander Shepherd. Lucifer. Jacob Taylor. L'Arachel. Daisy Johnson. Count Dooku. The Doctor.

This, fellow imPorts, is a watch list. A list of your brothers and sisters who the government deemed watchworthy. People of interest. Some of them are still with us. Some of them are gone. And whether or not any of these people are worthily deemed dangerous, we want you, the people, to know: this is what happens when you go against the grain. Labeled as agents opposed. Granted their freedom under secret scrutiny. Catch, and tag, and release.

To those who will, inevitably, dismiss this list as inconsequential: stay tuned. This is not the only list.
And this will not be our one and only release to you, our public.

Remember: the only power that we have, imPorts, is the power that we give to ourselves. The only limits to that power are the limits that we allow. Do not forget this. Consider yourselves warned.

[The video of space continues for another minute after the voice ends. The volume of the white noise increases until it is, abruptly, cut off with a burst of static.]

[as per last year's watch list.]

dendarii

[ This has been a wild week. Miles ... isn't quite sure how to deal with that whole coma thing, given he was stuck in it too, so he settles for more practical concerns.

He sure looks tired, though. Exhausted really. Sore down to his very bones. And while his expression is as cheerful as it always is, he can't quite muster up his usual level of energy. ]

Well, it's official. I've moved to Nonah completely. I'm an apartment above my ambassadorial office, so please feel free to stop by for business or socialization, whichever. And for those of you who haven't met me - I'm Ambassador Miles Vorkosigan, and I'd be delighted to hear out just about any problems you'd like for me to wrestle.

[ He really would be; the thought of doing so brightens his expression. He also helpfully posts his address onscreen. ]

I know some of the businesses in the area, but I'd like recommendations since I'm living here full time now. Especially imPort-run, given my position. And if you are looking to start one, I can help you out. I've been working on a program specifically to assist new imPorts with funding businesses.

[ A pause. Some of the cheer drains out of him, leaving him just ... exhausted instead. ]

And if anyone is looking for a place to stay in De Chima, I'd be happy to help you out there as well. It's a lovely place. Used to have ten people living in it. Custom-built. Extensive grounds and a guesthouse as well, though you may need to look after it.

[ It was easier to look after when Miles was surrounded by his family and friends from home. Now no one's left, save Mark.

God, he's lonely. ]

restingstitchface

[Crane sends the address out at 3pm sharp. He stands hunched against a wall with a bundle of files in his arms. Those with an eye for detail might notice math problems on a public whiteboard on the right; peppered with numerous red corrections that range from simple corrections to veiled insults.]

What affect have our ambassadors had on our lives?

[He turns his attention to the camera, eyes hooded. His tone is calm and polite but with a measure of boredom to it.]

Do we possess the same rights as native people? Does the government provide adequate care? Is it safe where we live? [In Maurtia Falls especially.] Who enacts the laws that rule our lives? Who legislates for education and social security? Ambassadors are our representatives - yet they are intimately acquainted with the culture of our hosts. Does this cozy arrangement mean they are politically trusted because they don't ask questions and challenge official stories? In simple terms, what do our ambassadors do for us?

[His fingertips grasp his chin.]

Also, one last question: who amongst us might earn your future nomination? Count Dooku, perhaps? Now there's a man with a political mind...

[Koma-san June 2016. Never forget.]

faderbroderson

[The boy who appears on camera could be no more than sixteen, if one were to judge by physical appearance alone. At best, the sober expression and conservative haircut might cautiously elevate him to as old as twenty. It’s the eyes that reveal the lie in that assumption. The eyes and perhaps a quality to his presence, something still and weary and aged that he makes no effort to conceal.]

My name is Godric, and I am newly arrived here.

I do not doubt that many of you have heard every possible question that could be asked in regard to our arrival, so I will be brief.

[A faintly wry expression crosses his face as he says it, as if in apology. But it passes as he pauses for a few heartbeats, unhurried, taking the time to consider his words.]

I am not altogether comfortable being proclaimed a hero, nor am I necessarily comfortable with the hand the military has taken in all this. For those of you who chose to register, if you had doubts, what swayed your opinion? For those of you who chose to abstain, or indeed took any other path, what convinced you it was for the best?

[His eyes wander back to the camera then, his gaze steady, focused wholly at whoever he may be addressing on the other end.]

They say the Porter is sentient, but I wonder over the nature of its intelligence. Do you believe our presence here is as deliberate as they imagine? If so, is it punishment or providence? Or is all this merely chance?

[Another pause and he shifts, eyes going distant and unfocused, considering whether to ask more. Deciding against it, he smiles politely. There’s no real happiness in it.]

Thank you for your time.

MASK OR MENACE

NETWORK COMMUNITY

Entries tagged with † gwen wynne-york | n/a

March 2021

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WILL YOU HELP SAVE THE WORLD?

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