TEST DRIVE MEME

[letsgolegion]

TEST DRIVE MEME



Pick a scenario!

Scenario A: The Legion has been invited to a fancy reception with the United Planets Council because various public officials and dignitaries want to meet with the new Legionnaires. Even the older Legionnaires don't want to go, but they've been told that if they bring the rookies they'll get some funding and resources to work on their project of getting the newbies home.

So everyone's put on their best color-changing dresses and self-tying ties and are getting to work rubbing elbows and trying to pretend they actually want to be there.

Naturally, while some of the dignitaries are polite and genuinely interested in the plight of the interdimensional refugees, many of the dignitaries are downright rude in various ways, either by making the rookies feel as if they'll never measure up to the old Legion (as if being brought into this world is some fault of theirs) or by being condescending when hearing about their comparatively "primitive" worlds. ("Oh, you still use fossil fuels there? How quaint!") Some like the green-skinned Coluans are outright hostile, telling the rookies that by helping the Legion, they're betraying organic life because of the Legion's support of Robotica.

A fun time is being had by all, naturally.

Okay, that's a lie, but at least the rookies have each other to talk to, right? And there's no dearth of weird future fashion to quietly make fun off.


Scenario B: The reception is under attack! A Xanthan terrorist group has busted in and plans on taking some of the dignitaries hostage in exchange for some of their number being released from prison.

"Nobody move and no one has to get hurt!" the leader cries out, his gun pointed at Madame President.

Unfortunately for them, the Legion got a last-minute invite to this little shindig. Time to team up with one of your teammates to kick some butt and practice those quips!


REMINDER:

There are only 30 player slots in the game. We do want to remind players of that at each step towards game opening, just so they're aware during the reserve/app process that these slots might fill fast. We've also moved the opening of reserves a day to make it more convenient for the mods. Here are the current dates for upcoming events:

RESERVES WILL OPEN ON: 12/20/15 @ 5PM EST/2PM PST/10PM GMT
APPS WILL OPEN ON: 12/26/15 @ 5PM EST/2PM PST/10PM GMT
GAME STARTS ON: 1/01/16

Comments

A

[wherenoonegoes]

Hiccup, by virtue of being from a society that hadn't entirely worked out how to make steel yet, was getting more than his fair share of the "primitive" treatment. It was taking a considerable amount of will not to point out that he at least had some grasp of basic social skills, unlike certain people here.

But, for anyone paying the slightest bit of attention, it was fairly obvious his temper was getting frayed. Someone would have to head him off before he snapped and chewed one of the diplomats out.

[failbender]

How about instead of someone stopping him from snapping, they cut him off at the pass by snapping first? Zuko had overheard the dignitary getting rude and being from a world these people seemed to think was "primitive" himself, he was automatically annoyed on Hiccup's behalf.

"For people that think they aren't 'primitive,' your manners are," Zuko said testily. "I've met people with more courtesy in prison."

Seriously, some of the prisoners in the Boiling Rock had better manners than these snobs.

"But I guess that's to be expected when most of you aren't even real nobility. You're just a bunch of puffed up, self-important bureaucrats."

Zuko did know how to speak to nobility, really he did. Despite being socially awkward, that still was the world he'd grown up in. The problem was these people weren't actually nobles, judging from their total lack of refinement, and that meant he just didn't care about what they thought of his own manners. It also didn't hurt that all his time in exile and the hardships he'd went through because of it had left him predisposed to doing away with social niceties in general.

The woman that'd been insulting to Hiccup squeaked out "My word!" and harrumphed before quickly rushing off, muttering, "The nerve of that boy --"

"Prince," he corrected, calling after her, and the moment he said the word she looked mortally embarrassed, but she kept hustling. "The nerve of that prince."

Yes, he was throwing around his title here. If they wanted to be all rude and insulting and make assumptions about the people they were talking to somehow being lesser than them, they could go right ahead, and he'd throw his title at their heads like a blunt object. He'd make it clear they were being coarse and crude to actual royalty and then they'd get to feel stupid for it.

Like the woman who was now rushing away, her purple face turning a much brighter purple. Ha!

[prettycoolguy]

The Chief was slowly cruising the reception for just this kind of situation. It was enough to wear on anybody's nerves, especially if they'd never been shoved into a fancy party to pretend at playing nice with a bunch of strangers from another reality. He'd done it, and hated it enough to know to keep an eye out. The other reality had just never been this literal before.

"Excuse me." The Chief moved into the conversation with surprising ease for a man his size. "I need to borrow your friend here," he told the gaggle of aliens Hiccup had attracted. "Legion business."

He wasn't good at the maneuvering people expected at something like this, but he was good at sounding serious and formidable enough to get some tone-deaf socialites to back off.

B

[spanish_superhero]

Antonio ducks behind the buffet table as soon as the terrorist fires his blaster into the air, the young man's eyes wide as he is momentarily caught off guard. His expression quickly changes to one of resolve, however, and he looks around a bit before spotting another Legionnaire recruit.

"You there!", he calls out in a loud whisper as he crawls over on his elbows and knees. "You are with the Legion too, yes?"

Re: B

[demon_on_wheels]

"Yes I am. Got any ideas?"

Speed had ducked behind a table, trying to work out the best way of taking the terrorists down without anyone getting hurt. On his own, it wasn't going to work. He wasn't that fast, at least not yet.

[worthlesspride]

"I am," Oikawa said as he peeked over the table that had been thrown up as a shield.

He didn't have a good grasp on his new power yet, but he could make use of the skills he earned over the years playing volleyball. Okay, find the Xanthan that looks greener than the rest. There, but they were far away.

"What can you do?"

A

[nerdninja]

The setting is already enough to make Donatello feel horribly out of place - fancy anything is pretty far down the list of things he has experience or interest in, and getting ready for the evening was a nightmare in figuring out appropriate formalwear that would fit over his shell without feeling ridiculously restricting. And unlike that time crashing the Science Expo, these are the kinds of people who'll lord up their more advanced technology without actually showing any appreciation for what got it for them in the first place.

You don't just tell a scientist that everything his world's been working on is quaint.

But flipping out and losing his temper over something minor would be so...so Raph, really. He can do better than that.

Logic.

"Well, sure, we've got a long way to go," he says, striving to keep his tone as light and conversational and free of the intense annoyance this guy's existence is causing him as possible. "But there's still a lot of hard work and innovation that went into just the level of technology there now. Seeing what you all have here, and knowing that's still ahead if we keep moving forward - knowing I could be part of getting us there...I mean, with so much room for improvement and so many possibilities still ahead...doesn't that make knowing how many people are going to keep innovating and improving to get here even more exciting?"

Crickets chirp.

"...no?"

Tough crowd, huh.

Maybe now's a good time to go scope out the refreshments for the ninth time tonight.

Re: A

[stillshinigami]

That looked painful. In the same token it looked like a great time for a tactical retreat as far as his conversation with an alien enginner who was starting to press him on questions after he casually mentioned space colonies. The conversation was already a 'smile and nod' game, and he was growing weary of the condescending tone coming out of this guy. So he excused himself as politely as he could and made his way to the refreshments which was an adventure of it's own.

"Hey man." He sidles on over to Donatello by the table, not quite making eye contact, but surveying the food or drink available. Still not sure if he's brave enough to try anything yet.

"Give yourself a little credit. You're at a party thrown by folks thinkin' we're slack jawed, cave dwelling barbarians. Still the smartest thing I've heard all night." Duo turns to him and offers his hand.

"Name's Duo. You?"

[iamresponding]

"Don't mind them. It's like a rule that if a culture breaks the FTL barrier they all automatically get to be snobs and pretend their people were always that advanced," said the man standing behind Donatello, leaning against a wall.

Donnie'd probably seen him around even if they hadn't talked, but Rich was hard to miss. To start with, he was over six feet tall and two hundred pounds of pure muscle. Then there was the whole prosthetic arm thing, since most of his right arm was gone.

The prosthetic was pretty nice. Since he had to remove it to fight to avoid frying it with his powers, it wasn't attached like a true cybernetic would've been, and that meant he couldn't use synth-skin to get his sense of touch back, but the technology was advanced enough that he could still move it with a thought, since it read the nerve impulses in what was left of his shoulder.

Oh, and then there was the fact that unlike most of the others he was absolutely adamant about not getting all dressed up. He was still in his superhero uniform as if he was just waiting for trouble.

There was a twinkle in his eyes that didn't diminish as the people Donnie was talking to started looking offended.

"Yeah, yeah, you heard me."

[worthlesspride]

"Don't worry about them," Oikawa says holding up a plate of fruit for Donatello. "If they can't be motivated to get off their butts to protect themselves, they aren't worth actual conversation."

That was what he was doing. Did he mind helping people? No. Well, okay, sometimes he did. But he usually hated those people. But this was different. This wasn't teaching an annoying brat volleyball- this was protecting people from danger. That was different. That he didn't mind doing.

"Just smile, nod, and say 'yes' and then they'll leave along. Oh, also compliment them a lot."

A

[ribticklers]

Why is Sans here when he isn't actually a sworn in member of the Legion? Why is he wearing a blue jacket lined with fluff ("Nah, 's not real fur, I know some folks who'd get hopping mad") and a self-tying tie together? How has he managed to make that self-tying tie look sloppily put together? All good questions with unimportant answers! He can't be trying to make a good impression. Maybe he wants the free food. Not that he's impolite, really--he weathers the barrage of dignitaries with a mountain of bad jokes and an untouchable air of nonchalance. Or maybe that's just because, as a skeleton, it's pretty difficult for him to make facial expressions.

It's easy to tell some of the others really aren't handling it well, though, so Sans finds his way over to them with the strangest-looking food the menu has to offer and a casual wink.

"Hey, wanna try whatever this is and see if it's food or something that fell off someone's outfit?"

Re: A

[googledox]

By now, Brainiac 5 had gotten used to the idea of a walking, talking skeleton. He hated that he'd had to get used to the idea but he'd nevertheless learned to tolerate Sans' existence. That was just how magic was, you acknowledged it was there and tolerated it like a fungus you could never really quite remove.

But he still had the occasional moment of extra vexation over Sans' nature.

Normally, he might have even laughed at the joke. He hated these functions with a ferocity unrivaled by that of any of his friends, and skipped most of them when he could, so typically he enjoyed it when his friends mocked the stupid things.

But no, he didn't laugh, because he immediately fixated on one thing:

"Are you eating? How can you even eat when --? Never mind. Never mind. I already know what the answer is."

Magic. The stupid answer was magic.

If he sounded frustrated at, you know, Sans existing, it was because he was.

[whyarewehere]

Grif squints at the offered delicacy with suspicion. "I don't know, it looks like something I saw on some lady's head like five minutes ago," he says, craning his neck up to see if he can find her in the crowd.

He pauses.

He looks back at Sans.

"Waitholyshityou'reaskeleton!" He takes a step back.

A

[sir_vancelot]

Vance was doing his level best to keep a smile on his face and make a good impression. After all, this was important and the Legion could use the funding to help them get home.

It was far more difficult to do when it came to some of the species than others, of course, but Vance had some training.

Finally, he found a corner to catch a breath and close his eyes. "Before we go home," he said to the nearest 'recruit', "remind me that I need to thank Tony Stark and Cap for making me attend Avengers functions."

Re: A

[iamresponding]

"You wanna thank Tony Stark for something? Now why would you wanna go and do a thing like that?" asked Rich.

Rich still didn't like Tony any more than he had the first time he'd told him off after returning home from the war. Nothing he'd heard about him since had left him impressed.

He leaned against a nearby wall with his arms crossed. It was nice having arms again (plural). The prosthetic they'd given him was really quite something for something that wasn't actually attached as a full cybernetic.

Unlike many of the others, he was also in his full superhero uniform instead of his Sunday best, which either said something about the nature of diplomatic functions where superheroes were gathered, his levels of paranoia, or both. The most he'd done to fancy himself up was take off his helmet and collapse it, cloth-like, and tuck it in his belt.

[caerme]

A.

It's funny how many worlds still have some form of a political system established. She's seen a vast range of different ways those systems could be established, but there was a large percentage of worlds that always had someone bowing to someone else. It was just the way certain things had to be done, and she had yet to encounter a world that had figured out a better system.

A childhood as a princess and so much more trained her how to keep her head in places like these. But training under Geralt and her own natural tendencies made her chafe under the watchful eyes of the dignitaries that decorated the room.

She rolled her eyes at the comments of never measuring up. She walked away from those who called her world primitive. And she just stared perplexed at the green-skinned people who seemed hell-bent on engaging her about "Robotica"?

It was easy to lose her head. Too easy. Instead she strode off, snapping a quick retort about not knowing what Robotica was, but hoping whatever it was they at least had more manners than the Coluans.

She makes her way to the edge of the room, taking a deep breath. She doesn't want to be in a place like this. She can be, but she doesn't want to be. And the weight of the second sword on her back is a reminder of how far she's come only to be... here. Now.

She rolls her eyes again and folds her arms as she leans against the wall. "What is Robotica anyway?" she wonders aloud to herself in annoyance more than anything, but she's willing to hear it from other ends as well.

B.

"All right," Ciri speaks up, her voice loud and clear.

She raises her hands slightly, leveling them at her shoulders. Her palms her up, facing out at the man with the gun. A clear sign of surrender. She takes a slow step to the side, stepping away from the dignitaries nearest her. She moves carefully, so as not to disturb the man too much.

"You certainly have our attention. No one has to get hurt," she shakes her head.

While she's talking, though, she casts a glance at the nearest Legionnaire she can sight. She doesn't know her teammates yet, but she's trusting that if they're a part of the team it's for good reason. She locks eyes with whoever, then drags them back to the shooter at the front. The clear leader based on the demands he's taken.

"Just tell us what it is your after. We're all listening." Don't make her glance again. There's only so many ways to keep a man distracted so others can move in to take him down.

A

[bellassa]

"Planet with droids, from what I can tell", Ferus said in response, shooting a look at the stranger and - what he assumed - fellow outsider. He'd sought out the edges of this reception for similar reasons as her, not feeling particularly interested in politics or appearances, having already been shown off by the Empire a few too many times back in his own galaxy.

This wasn't the same. Thankfully. But it brought all that to mind and he wasn't big on the reminders of what awaited him once he'd done his piece here.

That said, he'd still paid attention to what was going on around him; something that had been drilled into him since he was a child. The politics were dull but the conflicts behind them real and numerous. Not that he'd gathered much, because without knowing anything about this system and ... virtually any other, it was difficult to put what he was hearing into a real context. But he'd picked up enough to answer a stranger. So that was something.

Leaning back against the wall, he lightly kicked his heel back against in thought when he looked into the crowd once more. "Or robots, as these people call them."

A

[stillshinigami]

It's not easy to ignore the condescending tone of voice, but he'd manage to dodge plenty of scrutiny coming his way by being amicable, but also being vague enough about the technology level of his world to coast on by. After all, space colonies were a known occurrence in this galaxy, whose to say his world's tech level wasn't similar to this one?

Until someone called his bluff.

"So what's the deal here? Drag us all here to take your frustrations out on us? What a joke."

Re: A

[kingtyrantranger]

It was probably a good thing that he'd had plenty of exposure to different cuisines, Jason figured as he trawled along the food table. No sushi, no cheeseburgers, no hot dogs... Some of these things didn't even look like they were remotely related to things on Earth. But it wasn't bad and he'd found that you could make a few friends just by talking about how amazing the food was.

All in all, he felt fairly relaxed. Sure the mood was a bit tense, mainly coming from the younger crowd, and the arrogance of some of the adults was off-putting, but that could all be handled so long as no one lost their temper. Speaking of which... The sudden sharpness in one of the nearby voices caught his ear and he glanced over before inwardly groaning. And things had been going so well.

He scooped a pair of hors d'oeuvres off of the table and meandered on over to the situation before it got beyond a raised voice. "Hey, man." He smiled soothingly, holding out one of the sticks of food to Duo. Green and purple fruit, sweet and juicy, speared onto a skewer? Awesome. "Have you tried these? You should, they're great." He spared a glance to the older guy's conversation partner and made a subtle shooing gesture, not quite putting himself between them.

Best just to cut off these kinds of things before they became a huge problem, he figured.

A

[worthlesspride]

Oikawa Tooru might have come from a 'primitive time' he sure can fake it. He contributes this to all the science fiction movies, manga, and novels that he read. He's also able to flatter and bluff his way into making people treat him nicely. Act humble but excited to be part of the legion, give out genuine compliments, smile that smile that girls to fawn over him and come watch him play volleyball even if he didn't play for school's team.

Because of this, he's probably have a better time than most of his new Legion comrades. There are the few beings that due try to be rude at him and his new Legion Teammates, but he's able to cut them down with his sugar coated, razor tongue. He's not a nice person, but if you're his he'll have your back no questions asked.

"Perhaps you should join," he tells to one such rude guest who is currently questioning his intelligence because he's from the past. His tone is respectful, his eyes locked with the rude guest. "Show us how to fight against Sun Eaters in the like. We would surely benefit from your expertise."

It's obvious the guest in question has never fought in their life.

[caerme]

"They probably wouldn't last two seconds against a ghoul, much less a Sun Eater. Whatever that is."

She's not nosy. She tells herself. Often. And it's the truth. But when she stumbles into something she is too curious and too out-spoken to really keep her mouth shut. And right now it looked like one of her fellow Legionnaires was getting it from one of their dignitaries.

So she's wandered her way into the conversation, clearly taking a supporting role as she stands behind Tooru to back him. "But please," She made a mockery of a low, Nilfgaardian bow. "Humble us with your knowledge."

Their guest was certainly looking less than pleased with the tone of the conversation, even more now that Tooru was no longer on his own.

A

[leverageintceo]

Parties are the worst. Especially parties where Parker has to make nice with people and not steal anything, even things that are all but begging to be stolen. It's all the annoying parts of grifting with none of the fun parts, and Hardison and Eliot aren't here to make it better.

"Excuse me," she says, having finally hit her limit on listening to the alien (aliens were apparently way more disappointing than science fiction had promised her) who had been talking at her, and vanished into the crowd, seizing the elbow of the first other person she recognized as a Legionnaire.

"How badly would it set us back if I stabbed someone with a fork?"

Re: A

[wherenoonegoes]

Diplomatic engagements where he was actually required to be polite to people, which was entirely the opposite of the Viking norm? It wasn't exactly his area of expertise. Violent women threatening to stab people, that he could handle.

"Fairly badly. And there's apparently a good chance it wouldn't actually do anything to them." Bizarre alien physiologies were in play here.

A

[whyarewehere]

"I still can't believe you guys don't even have bacon," Grif says, despite the clearly appalled expression of the aliens he's talking to.

"What is all this? Tofu?" he continues, gesturing to the table with open contempt. "I don't think a single animal died to make all this. It's a tragedy."

"Well I never," murmurs a well-coifed lady behind her hand, quiet enough to be under the pretense of secrecy but clearly meant for him to hear.

"You never what? Never ate anything good?"

He doesn't seem to realize that he's getting attention, but then again maybe he's just enjoying it.

[worthlesspride]

"Hey now, being a vegetarian doesn't mean not eating good stuff." Oikawa tended to eat as vegetarian as possible, being a Buddhist, but as an athlete he had needed to have a balanced diet.

He takes a bite of the roll (it's sweet and almost tastes like milk bread) he was holding and looks over man. "You do realize it's rude to criticize another culture's diet, right?"

A

[oddlittlefrostgiant]

Was he supposed to be comfortable with these fancy things now that he was out? Bobby Drake wasn't sure. He pulled uncomfortably at the self-tying tie that he wore around his neck, only to have it snap back and tighten uncomfortably around his finger. He struggled with it for a moment before he got his finger free and then grimaced as a particularly snooty Coluan smirked down at him.

You'd think that Bobby would have gotten used to being pulled away from his place in time and space, but no. This was the second time in a year that he'd been pulled away, but at least the first time, things had seemed somewhat familiar.

This was just different. And maddening. Sure, back home, he'd gotten compared to the older, future version of himself. Here, though, he'd had no less than three people tell him how he was a terrible Polar Boy knock-off, and wasn't that sad, because Polar Boy hadn't even been a true Legionnaire himself.

"Who calls themself Polar Boy anyway?" Bobby grumbled to himself. "Polar could be magnetic pole thingies too."

Re: A

[demon_on_wheels]

"Don't let 'em get to you. Some people are just jerks. That's on them, not you." Speed whispered. He'd had enough people bring up Rex as a benchmark around him to have learned that much.

A

[prettycoolguy]

The Chief isn't happy to be here, but he isn't happy about most things anyway. It feels wrong to be whiling away these hours talking and posturing, even though he understands the funding is important. He's always hated functions like these, and years haven't made him enjoy them more. They've just made him better at putting up a front.

The best he can do is treat it like any mission: take care of the team to ensure they meet the objective. Most of the other new Legionnaires are younger than he is, and many have less experience pretending to belong in a mess like this. The least he can do is help them out.

(Feel free to approach the Chief. Or, if your character's stuck in an awkward conversation and looking desperate, he's got your back. The bright side of being a huge super soldier is you're hard to brush off.)

[makeadragonwannaretire]

If he's looking for a mission, there's a younger recruit looking like she needs an extraction.

Azula has gotten in over her head and she knows it. These simpering fools are commenting so blithly about her hair, her accent, her pale skin, it's all gotten very insulting and as a princess and recovering psychopath, she does not take to such things easily.

"And how do you manage to get anything done with brains that size? They are located in your head aren't they? A head that small cannot contain much. You are simply inspirational for what you overcome." The large headed being remarked sealing his fate. Her eye was twitching and her stance was tense. This was moments away from becoming a blood bath.

Azula // Avatar the Last Airbender // A & B

[makeadragonwannaretire]

A

Ah yes, high society, the upper crust, royalty. This is where Azula belonged.

So why did she feel so miserably out of place?

She looks the part at least, dressed in an elegant dress of red and gold that compliments her skin making her eyes pop brightly and her skin taking on a warm hue rather then the sometimes washed out pale she has on her bad days.

Even her hair, which is a constant battle to do on her own is looking put together and shiny thanks to her steeling her courage and allowing someone to help her.

To any who didn't know better, they might think she was comfortable and happy here. But inside she wanted to set fire to at least half the people she was meeting here. Between conversations her teeth were clenched, thank the spirits she'd managed to force herself to drink some of the punch after seeing everyone else drinking it. Having something to do with her hand namely: Holding a cup was better then the constant urge punish these simpering fools for talking down to her.

Someday they would regret this party. Maybe not someday soon but some day she would ensure each and every one of them learned their place.

But for now she was taking a moment to breathe, her back to a wall so she didn't have to worry about anyone sneaking up on her.

Was it so wrong for her to wish there was some kind of horrible disaster?

****************************************************
B

There is a phrase, be careful what you wish for. Even in her world that is well known thanks to all manner children's stories.

Azula had been hoping for something to test her skills on and as luck would have it, trouble found her.

Her eyes were sharp and took in every detail as she scanned the area for who and what she had to work with to stop this situation from getting out of hand.

B!

[oddlittlefrostgiant]

"You think if I did that finger gun thing and asked them to freeze, that they'd get the joke?" Humour. It was generally the only way Bobby Drake knew how to deal with stressful situations. Well, besides literally freezing things.

Bobby had already shifted into his snow-form (that didn't count as moving, right?). He wasn't looking directly at Azula as he asked the question, mostly because he was watching the terrorist group. "You look fierce and kinda scary," he added after a beat. "Please tell me that means you have some sort of a plan in mind?"

[prorenataa]

[ooc: His information can be found here]

A

It wasn't that Adrien didn't know how to behave. He'd spent more than his fair share of his formative years attending parties like this, being put on display to help his father secure trade partners. He'd been thoroughly schooled in the right things to say, the right body posture, the right .. blah, blah, blah.

However, he hadn't given much of a damn back then and he gave even less of a damn now.

For the most part, he tried to keep to himself. Staying along the walls and fixing his eyes down on his plate of (whatthefuckweretheseanyway?) and otherwise giving off the universal signals of 'leave me alone'. The more sympathetic dignitaries seemed to take the hint and stayed away from him, unfortunately it was the less tolerant sort that zeroed in on him.

The doctor had been making his way across the floor in hopes of an escape when he path was quite deliberately blocked by a species that naturally had a loud and booming voice. This individual happened to be one of the dignitaries who were wasting no time in being condescending to the rookies and their loud voice challenged Adrien on his world's backwards approach to intersteller technology and feeding itself.

The charge hung in the air, a pregnant sort of pause that quite possibly affected conversations near by as Adrien blinked up at the dignitary. His habitual scowl morphed into something like a pensive frown as he poked at a shrimp like substance on his plate before asking.

"While I would be more than happy to engage you on these topics, Councilor I believe you would find my humble offerings as a mere medical professional to be quaint indeed."

Adrien's tone was polite, touched with a hint of apology as he spoke. If anyone knew him well, they probably would have interrupted before he got much further with this conversation.

"However, I think we could have a much more lively discussion over the fact that the medical advances in cosmetic surgery have come so far over the past decade, that there truly is no reason for your face to continue to suffer from ... "

Someone might (please, please, OH please!) consider a timely interruption.

B

Every so often being a wall flower worked in one's favor.

When the Xanthan group burst into the reception, Adrien was able to drop back into a shadowed alcove under the cover of distraction as the group sought to secure their primary targets. Hunkered down, he listened to the rather trite commentary from the leader (really 'nobody move' cliche?) with half an ear as he began to identify the exits.

It would appear that the doctor wasn't the only one who had taken to the cover of out of the way shadow/spaces. Spying a vaguely familiar face, he gave a quick, soft whistle in an effort to catch the other Legionnaires' attention.

"Did you get a count of how many we're dealing with?"

b!

[caerme]

Once she's certain she can slip away without anyone getting hurt, Ciri moves to the edges of the crowd. She ducks into shadows of her own, trying to gauge how many people they were dealing with and the best route of action. Searching for anyone who could help her. The room was full of Legionnaires. Surely someone-

Oh. There was someone.

She slips quietly across the path to where Adrien is. Her eyes barely leave the center of the room. She does her best to look as though she's as frozen as the rest, even while she tries to duck out of view. Just in case someone sees...

"I counted at least five," she answers in a softer voice. "I don't know if I got all the edges, though. I haven't been able to clear the blindspot across the room yet."

[starbuckslord]

A

Peter Quill had learned to control his temper over the years, which would shock most people who had only recently met him (it just went to show how bad his rage could be back in the day). Earth had its problems, but it wasn't the absolute worst rock in the space-time continuum, and to top it all off: he actually knew how to use some of the kinds of technology in this universe and time period. "Primitive," his flarkin' ass.

He tried to behave. He really did. When someone let something slip, he politely tried to steer the conversation somewhere else, despite the twitching of his eyebrow. He tried to bite his tongue and drown his words with sips of his drink, but finally the words had worn him thin.

A rather bratty young Coluan man ended up with a glassful of chilled blue liquor thrown right in his face. The immediate area around him went silent. Peter shut his eyes and then quietly walked off. Better to let it end there than start throwing fists, as much as his were shaking at his sides.

B

Considering Peter's previous "explosion," this was rather poor timing for the Xanthans. Their sudden barking of demands as they tried to take someone hostage set Peter's brain to ticking away the steps between himself and them, on the floor, unconscious at best. He glanced around 180 degrees, taking in where the terrorists were setting their sights. Peter took every glance away from him to back up behind a decorative pillar.

He had a scowl on his face, and he quietly removed one of his guns from its holster. He gave it a quick look over to make sure it was functioning properly and set on an ammo that would be non-lethal.

"Well, time to lock and load, sirs." Peter looked around the pillar to see where his next opening to drawn in close would be.

B

[kingtyrantranger]

"I blame you."

When the terrorists had jumped in, there had been a lot of fuss. Jason's first reaction was to find a private place to morph, but there was little chance of that going on in a place so crowded. Besides, who knew if he could manage it in another dimension? So he'd decided to stick to the rules and flip a table, leaving him to use a mirror-polished platter to peer at the group from behind it.

Hey, it worked in the movies.

He glanced over to Peter and waggled the plate. "Never water little green men. You get weeds that way." Oh yeah, he'd seen the earlier bit with the Coluan there. And promptly pretended he hadn't.

Jason scowled, trying to count up the numbers with the platter. Xanthans didn't look too different from normal people, so he just had to go by who was waving guns around. Who knew if there were more hiding in a crowd? Well, maybe someone who knew Xanthans better than he did, all he knew was they had a few heroes hook up with the Legion. "I've got... Three over by the President, two on an upper level," which probably meant two more on the opposite side, "and three more gathering more hostages from the crowd, I guess? I can't really tell what they're doing." He lowered the platter and glanced pointedly at Peter's guns. "Got a plan beyond 'punch them really hard with bullets'?" The way the older man carried himself, it was pretty obvious he was used to nasty situations.