Glamour Failure

[animusmods]

Characters: any
Setting: all around the Tower
Format: any/party-style
Summary: A general mingle log for the reaction to the beginning of the Idealism event.
Warnings: PG-13; please include any more detailed warnings in your threads if necessary

Comments

[true_noir]

"Close enough," she said with a playful laugh, looking over at him and shaking her head. "The tortures are different, but they clearly wish to make this place into their own little torture game. Quite amusing. Powerbar?"

[megazero_to_superhero]

"Dey're gonna have to do a lot worse than this to make me feel tortured. Stuff like dat open floor a coupla stories up? Dat was a good start," the orangey wireframe's heading over to where she is now. "Right now I'm feelin' more like an Eighties' cartoon dan anything else."

Even with the state of the tower as it is, and faced with the fact that he doesn't have any of his real gear, powers, or even his body, David's still trying to keep up with the bravado and theatrics of being a superhero. He's only been here for a week at best, however. He has much to learn.

"What flavor are dem powerbars, anyway?"

Oh yeah. A whole lot.

[true_noir]

She cackled and shook her head. "Oh this? You mean our bodies? Oh my no. That's not the torture. That's the joke," she said, looking at her fingers and shaking her head. "It's the fact that none of it matters. We're spirits trapped in goo they push into these bodies."

"And they barely have a flavor, really. Bland and tasteless, like the oatmeal."

[megazero_to_superhero]

"Well, if dis ain't the torture part but dey like doin' it, why don't it matter? Some of da nastiest stuff I've seen an' heard of involved screwin' with people's souls ..." His voice falters a little once he found himself recalling examples. Especially what the Circle of Thorns almost did to his ex-wife, and what they had done to many hapless citizens of Paragon City.

David shakes his head briskly, as if trying to dislodge those bad memories from his mind. Just in time to catch the wireframed woman's remark about the nutrition bars.

"An' jeez, what's da point of makin' a power bar like dat? Dey gotta have chocolate at da very least. Might as well have us all eatin' dat oatmeal otherwise."

[true_noir]

"It does not matter because nothing I have ever done, that anyone has ever done, was actually to the person, just the shell they inhabit," she said, laughing and smirking over at him.

"And I rather like the oatmeal, bland as it is. It's... something of a stability. I may always eat it, since it seems to be all we ever eat."

[megazero_to_superhero]

It's kind of hard to tell now that everyone is little more than a soul, wireframe, film, and goop, but David's regarding the woman's giggling response with a bit of skepticism. Without ever having met this before he can't tell if the recent reveal is getting to her, or if this really is her philosophy about pain and hardship. Could always be both ...

Her remarks about the stability the oatmeal provides makes him examine his body. Looking at the orange fluid sloshing about underneath that film-and-wireframe construction.

"Come to think of it, if dis is supposed to be some kinda Arc Server thing, why even have real food? Are dese things powered by oatmeal or somethin'?"

[true_noir]

"Difficult to say," she said, shaking her head and shrugging. "I used to hear about a few gnostic religions out there that focused on the idea that people only really stuck to the material in needs because they could not convince themselves that it was all an elaborate illusion. This might be the same."

Munch. She... didn't care.