Eric (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
overbringer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
overbox2021-02-02 01:58 pm
overbringer) wrote in overbox2021-02-02 01:58 pm
A Gala on Mars
The year is 2299. As the 23rd century reaches its end, the war between the Jovian Empire and the Solar Alliance draws to an uneasy ceasefire. The Jovians, Saturnians, and Uranians have finally agreed to come to the bargaining table with the Mercurians, Venusians, Earthlings and Martians at a huge event in the Shadow of Olympus Mons on Mars. After decades of senseless war, there is finally a real hope of PEACE in the solar system!
That is, if the peace talks are allowed to proceed. There are a lot of very powerful people who have been profiting from this war. Arms dealers who sell to whoever has the most money. Warlords who have risen in power since the war's start. Rabble rousers who have grown a cult following decrying the atrocities of the other side. Out loud, all of them would like nothing better than peace, of course. But in quiet backrooms, many of them have been doing their best to assure that the peace talks don't end up going anywhere at all.
Who are you? A politician, perhaps. Or a guard at the event, or a spy trying to get intel while so many important people are all in one place, or a performer, or part of the event staff, or just some rando who got their hands on an invitation. There are lots of options. The one thing all of you have in common, among all the unnamed NPCs filling out this event, is that you don't feel like you belong here.
Not "here" as in at this gala for politicians from across the solar system, but "here" as in...you're not really sure. Your whole life, as long as you can remember, you've just had a vague feeling that you aren't supposed to be in this life. You're supposed to be...someone else. It's ignorable, most of the time, but it's been this omnipresent vague background radiation for your entire life.
Well, don't worry about it right now. It's an important night. Phobos and Deimos are both out tonight, adding a little extra light to the busy Martian night, people from all different moons and planets are together in pursuit of peace rather than killing each other for the first time in years, and nothing is going to go wrong.
Wait.
There are some people here who aren't on the guest list.
Who are they?
Iroh | Avatar: The Last Airbender | Exile
So naturally, many were nervous to hear he would be at the peace summit. They certainly didn't expect him to be a short, friendly, balding man who had the general energy of someone's eccentric uncle.
At the moment he had a tiny sandwich in one hand and a drink in the other, and was talking to a group of slightly nervous looking Venusian diplomats. "I always thought that when I finally landed on Olympos Mons, I would do so as a conqueror. Now I'm here as a diplomat!"
He laughed. "I think I like this way better. Less screaming and dying all around. Plus I get to have all the complimentary sandwiches I want!"
Peter B Parker | Spider-Man: Enter The Spiderverse | Glazier
Peter's hologram disguise had him as a scruffy looking Martian. Actually, it just had him as a Martian, but the man could make himself look scruffy no matter what you put him in.
The problem was that he had kind of skimmed over the briefing, and as such only had the VAUGEST idea of what the situation was, here. Something about a war? It was a problem, at an event where everyone invited was supposed to be a highly influential person.
He was awkwardly trying to talk to a Saturnian industrialist about...he wasn't even sure. Something to do with disarmament and how it would effect the economy.
"Why yes, of course. Naturally if you can't build any more...ray guns...then you'll have to...uh...rebuild some factories...?"
He noted another exile and kind of subtly signaled them to get over here and save him from this conversation for the love of god!
-2: Not trying to fit in-
Later, Spider-Man had dropped the holodisguise entirely, in favor of his OWN disguise: Red and blue spandex.
Sometimes, you needed to take more direct action to get an Exile away from everyone else. At times like those, being able to climb walls and ceilings with no handholds was a very useful skill, as was owning a pair of webshooters.
You, Exile, were enjoying a moment of peace and quiet when suddenly something nabbed you from overhead and yanked you up out of the light. Next thing you knew, you were hanging upside down with your feet wrapped up in what looked unnervingly like a giant spiderweb, and a masked man was holding his hand over your mouth.
"Okay okay I'm sorry for not using a more delicate touch but you are a VERY hard person to get a chance to talk to and this is probably the most important thing you're going to hear in your entire life so if you promise not to start screaming I promise to put you back down when we're done talking. Can we do that?"