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legionworld2017-06-08 11:25 pm
legionnpcs) wrote in legionworld2017-06-08 11:25 pm
THE MIND SLAYER
Who| Plot Participants
What| Psychic Assassins!
Where| On Legion World
When|
Warnings/Notes| N/A
THE MIND SLAYER
She's been setting this up for weeks now. It's almost too easy with how trusting these Legion fools can be. If they'd only taken her seriously, if they hadn't laughed at her then... Well, things would be different. Now they'd welcome her with open arms. After she killed a few of them, of course.
This has to be done up close. She'd taken a job as a waitress in the mess halls. The older Legion, the ones who'd been at her tryout, didn't even recognize her. They deserved this more than their replacements. She almost feels sorry for them. But, no, she had to move before Saturn Queen went to trial in a few days. Meta, Esper, she's Esper now, can't risk any more time. If it's to be done, it has to be done now. She'd rather be further away, but her mental range isn't as long as she'd like. Tucked away into a dark corner of Legion World, she stood across from her costume. Heroes wore costumes, and she couldn't call herself that while doing this, but she could still draw strength from it.
She watches it, imagining how she'll look in it, and shivers. Nerves, she tells herself, glancing at the trigger device in her hands. "I'm sorry," Esper whispers. "But I deserve this." With the press of a button, the nanofactories kick into high gear and, for over a dozen Legionnaires, the lights go out. Whatever they're doing, their physical bodies instantly collapse and slump over, as if they're in a coma. Anyone coming too close, entering her psychic range, joins them.
They awaken almost instantly, finding themselves in a hellish amalgam. Parts of their worlds slammed together to make some twisted patchwork reality. And, like Oz himself, Esper's head appears above them, smiling with forced confidence. "You deserve to know what's happening, Legionnaires. My name is Esper! And you're locked into your own mindscapes. I've seeded you with teletechnology designed to tear your minds apart! It will be painless, mostly, but the weakest among you will fall to your own memories as my machines convince your subconscious that you shouldn't be alive." She drifts back a little, examining the group. "And, linked like this, if one of you falls, all of you die. Don't resist and make it more painful for yourselves. Just surrender and make it painless and easy for your friends. And don't try anything stupid. I'll be watching."
With that, she slides out, making sure her mindfield keeps people away from this section of Legion World, and that those who are still awake haven't noticed the heroes dropping like flies.
But she'll be back. And her machines have already set to work.
[[If you wish to have your characters discuss matters, set up your comments in the mingle post! Otherwise, make new toplevels for every mental scenario you'll work with.]]
What| Psychic Assassins!
Where| On Legion World
When|
Warnings/Notes| N/A
THE MIND SLAYER
She's been setting this up for weeks now. It's almost too easy with how trusting these Legion fools can be. If they'd only taken her seriously, if they hadn't laughed at her then... Well, things would be different. Now they'd welcome her with open arms. After she killed a few of them, of course.
This has to be done up close. She'd taken a job as a waitress in the mess halls. The older Legion, the ones who'd been at her tryout, didn't even recognize her. They deserved this more than their replacements. She almost feels sorry for them. But, no, she had to move before Saturn Queen went to trial in a few days. Meta, Esper, she's Esper now, can't risk any more time. If it's to be done, it has to be done now. She'd rather be further away, but her mental range isn't as long as she'd like. Tucked away into a dark corner of Legion World, she stood across from her costume. Heroes wore costumes, and she couldn't call herself that while doing this, but she could still draw strength from it.
She watches it, imagining how she'll look in it, and shivers. Nerves, she tells herself, glancing at the trigger device in her hands. "I'm sorry," Esper whispers. "But I deserve this." With the press of a button, the nanofactories kick into high gear and, for over a dozen Legionnaires, the lights go out. Whatever they're doing, their physical bodies instantly collapse and slump over, as if they're in a coma. Anyone coming too close, entering her psychic range, joins them.
They awaken almost instantly, finding themselves in a hellish amalgam. Parts of their worlds slammed together to make some twisted patchwork reality. And, like Oz himself, Esper's head appears above them, smiling with forced confidence. "You deserve to know what's happening, Legionnaires. My name is Esper! And you're locked into your own mindscapes. I've seeded you with teletechnology designed to tear your minds apart! It will be painless, mostly, but the weakest among you will fall to your own memories as my machines convince your subconscious that you shouldn't be alive." She drifts back a little, examining the group. "And, linked like this, if one of you falls, all of you die. Don't resist and make it more painful for yourselves. Just surrender and make it painless and easy for your friends. And don't try anything stupid. I'll be watching."
With that, she slides out, making sure her mindfield keeps people away from this section of Legion World, and that those who are still awake haven't noticed the heroes dropping like flies.
But she'll be back. And her machines have already set to work.
[[If you wish to have your characters discuss matters, set up your comments in the mingle post! Otherwise, make new toplevels for every mental scenario you'll work with.]]
Once Upon a Time - OTA
The ballerina dancing the part of Odile was incredibly skilled and seemed to dance effortlessly. There was something familiar about her, but the production continued on, the audience cheering at the end, all dancers having bright smiles on their face during curtain call. The scene quickly shifted to a dressing room, the ballerina that had been the black swan, Odile, out of costume in a white robe, sitting before her vanity as she brushed out her mid-length dark hair that held the slightest tinge of blue. Pale skin and warm honey colored eyes, she looked up when there was a knock on the door and another dancer came in.
"Amélie," she said in an excited voice (in French which all could understand in this mindscape), barely pushing the door closed behind her. "There's a man that wants to meet you."
"There always is on Saturdays," Amélie, the woman that would one day become Widowmaker, replied. "You know I don't bother with them, Lucienne. Be polite, but give my regards and excuses."
Lucienne smirked a bit and leaned against the door, making it click properly shut. "He says he's an Overwatch agent."
There was a momentary pause in Amélie's hand, the brush stilling, as her eyebrows rose. "Now is he..."
The other woman's smirk grew a bit. "I see that caught your attention. He's handsome, too."
A light snort came as Amélie set the brush down and started refreshing her makeup. "He's probably just saying he's Overwatch to get my attention. Those kind of men are all alike - making up stories to impress the pretty girl, when all we want is someone genuine. Not worth my time."
"...then why are you fixing your makeup?" Lucienne moved over to meet Amélie's eyes in the reflection, prompting her to get a tube of lipstick thrown at her.
"Shut up." But Amélie knew she was more intrigued by the potential of a real Overwatch agent than she was willing to admit. "Tell him he can buy me one drink at the bar downstairs. One." A pause. "Did he bother to give a name?"
"Gérard Lacroix."
[ooc: I will give the memory in chunks, letting it unfold for the characters that visit. No posting order required!]