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

[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.

A

[iamresponding]

Rich wasn't far off and he looked amused as he leaned against a wall, arms crossed, keeping an eye on the whole room. Every so often he flexed the fingers of his robotic prosthetic slightly. He was still getting used to the thing and it had become something like a nervous reflex to keep moving his fingers experimentally, as if he was reassuring himself fingers of some kind were still there even if they weren't his flesh-and-blood ones.

Despite his vigilance, he was still far more relaxed than he'd ever been during or after the war. Part of it was him just quietly enjoying being alive again after that whole turning-into-a-dimensional-door-and-dissipating-into-energy thing. The other part was the fact he didn't have to worry about absolutely everything because he wasn't the boss man anymore. He wasn't even that guy that everyone looked to for cues on how to act despite not being the boss man.

He was just another cog in the machine now, and after dying and coming back, not having to worry about the things a leader had to worry about suited him just fine. It was like being just another Nova again, only this time it wasn't Worldmind trying to force him into it because he'd lost it and become a few fries short of a Happy Meal. This time the leader in charge was actually marginally competent.

He spoke to Peter in English instead of the Interlac that their telepathic earplugs defaulted to. It was just as much a small act of defiance in the face of the ethnocentric superiority of the people around them as it was to prevent anyone around them from understanding they were talking shit about them.

"You know," he said, "if I was the one in charge of this whole operation I'd be pissed you just possibly screwed up a very delicate diplomatic situation."

A pause.

"But I'm not, so --"

He laughed. It was a laugh that didn't pop up all that often, a boyish, mischievous one that had probably been far more common during his days with the New Warriors, before the war, before everything that made him almost want to never laugh again.

"And I thought the Rigellians were bad. Forget throwing a drink in his face, you should'a found a punch bowl to dunk him in."

The average Rigellian had all the personality of a block of wood, but these Coluans...

If someone could have an inverse of a personality, they had that.