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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.]]
no subject
"York lives."
And Delta is logic embodied. He thrives, as Taylor does, on patterns. If this, then that. If the voice is telling the truth, then York is dead, and by consequence so is Agent Texas. If York is alive...
The voice is lying. And Texas's fate has not yet been clarified. Variable, not constant. Not determined. Not yet.
no subject
But something in the voice rings true. Familiar. Distantly so- the armor shifts, settles, his hands coming up to grasp at Locus' arms to steady himself against the downward spiral of grief. If York Lives-
How do you know?
no subject
Esper had no right to toy with him like this. Locus's eyes narrow behind his visor.
"He asked that I look after you if something should happen to him. I would know if it had."
Even if those ties broke, Delta would not be alone. He would make certain of it.
no subject
It doesn't make sense for this time, this place- except he'd never truly been here himself. It's an echo of a memory, a nightmare in so much that he is able to have them. Fragments from a fragment. Shards of something that was done to make him but it still-
There'd been a talk, an agreement, and that. That makes this armor familiar.
Then Agent Texas- Allison-
no subject
Perhaps a kinder thing to say than admitting she was gone, long gone. Every trace of her, every shadow and fragment erased and scattered to the winds. It is not what he needs to hear right now.
Locus has come a long way, in regards to comforting his friends.
"This is how it was done, but I have no wish to see it continue. As I suspect you do not wish to continue to endure it. Know this for what it is. Know that I speak the truth."
no subject
His hands tighten around Locus' arms and though he has no need to breathe, there's a shuddering gasp that tears through him. Alive. Alive and well- or at least not dead like this. Because he failed her. Because he's not enough, he's not ever enough...
But this isn't. Who are you?
no subject
And his gaze moves, shifts over the fragmenting surroundings. The sooner the devices are destroyed, the sooner Delta will be free from this.
no subject