sixthiteration | Test Drive 23

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The 3 rules of the TDM

It has to take place in the 6I universe.
It cannot be the character's arrival into the game.
Please only test new characters who do not have a version in the game. Our cast list is here.

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Prompts

FULL VIEW - The Observers really do their best to make each villager's wrist device as user-friendly for them as possible, but with all new tech, sometimes there's a learning curve... And sometimes, you just screw up. Like now, when you've accidentally triggered the video option and called someone completely random on the network without realizing it. Yep, you're just going about whatever, totally oblivious. Here's to hoping that your clothes are fully on, and that the person on the other end is nice enough to speak up sooner rather than later.
SHADOW OF A DOUBT - Being the intrepid (or just bored) villager you are, you've gone exploring and found yourself a very interesting (if moderately spooky) cave. What lurks in the dark? Might it be some shadow dust to turn you intangible? Or perhaps a cave wolf with all of its little goblin-monkey friends? Maybe, just maybe, it's both.
ILL AT EASE - 'Tis the season for the common cold, and you've got it. Unfortunately, the village doesn't have a corner drug store, so you're achy, miserable, maybe a little feverish. The good news is a little time in bed should do the trick. That is, if you're not the sort who has to be bullied to take care of yourself anytime you get sick. Either way, maybe you'll be lucky enough to find someone to tuck you in and bring you some chicken soup.
WILDCARD - Choose your own adventure. Maybe play powers roulette.
NETWORK - All characters are fitted with a smart watch-like device on their left wrist, which they can use to send text and video messages to other villagers. Text and/or video are allowed, any length. Display names may be changed by characters on the fly, but anyone can tap to see someone's real full name.

Please list your CHARACTER NAME, CANON & PROMPT NAMES in your SUBJECT LINE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The downside is, Diego knows he's a freak. He was paraded as a freak for all the world to see. Plastered on magazines and turned into action figures. He stopped being offended by words like that thrown at him since before his father finally let them out of those damn uniforms, short pants and all.

"Born and raised one," he says, letting his hand ease away from the handle of his knife and down to his side. "I've got two of them," he admits. "I can hold my breath as long as I want, and I've got a bit of a skill with knife throwing," he says, which is an understatement but explains enough, he figures. "Well, I had them. I don't anymore. Even dead we still have the abilities, apparently. I don't get how I can't have them now," he admits, frowning heavily as he makes that admission.

It's being more honest than he's comfortable with but that too has him taking a chance. He's never had a chance to hide what he is, so why start here?

Michael slumps back against the nearest wall as he looks the other guy over. "You can hold your breath as long as you want," he echoes. "Sorry, I didn't see that kinky little number on the list," he drawls, hooking his thumbs in the loops of his pants as he eases back, because you can take the cowboy out of New Mexico, but not all of him.

The knives thing, that's more interesting. "Telekinesis," he says. "Just, knife-specific telekinesis? And you didn't get into cooking?" he scoffs. "Missed opportunity, that's all I'm saying."

"We don't exactly pick our super powers,' He points out, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the door jamb, semifacing off with the other man. Though there's a twitch of his lips, amused by that comment. He can't say it hasn't benefited him in all ways.

"Any projectile I throw," he admits. "I just prefer knives. It's funny the number of people that have no issue with a gun in their face, but freak when you nearly put a knife through their foot." Definitely amused talking of that. Though he actually laughs at the comment about cooking.

"Let me guess. At one of those places where you slice and dice at the grill in front of them?"

"I mean, I was figuring a regular kitchen, but your idea's so much better," Michael agrees with a smirk as he leans forward to make little motions with his fingers, of chopping and slicing. He can use his telekinesis on knives to slice himself a piece of cake, so he already knows how useful it can be.

As for choice, he snorts. "Trust me, I know all about that, but I won the lottery," he guarantees, though there were definitely times when he'd wanted Isobel's power and just once, just the once, he'd wanted Max's. "Some people can make anything terrifying," he says.

"So? You got your breathing power in there? Or are we gonna have to wait for you to show off your synchronized swimming talents?"

"You know, maybe you're right. Maybe the goal should have been celebrity chef all along instead of helping people because the police can't always do it." And much as his tones are tinged with sarcasm, there are days when he doesn't wonder why he took this path, as bad as it has gotten over the years.

He snorts at that. "You're not wrong there. A whisper. A small child in a school uniform. A violin. Seen a lot of people fear things most just think are ordinary," he admits, nodding.

"Came to see what these machines offer up and how much I can get back. Would settle for thumbing my nose at the law of physics, but both would be nice. None of it has been working since I came here though. Not sure how they manage that."

Michael scoffs at the idea of the police doing anything. He's lived his life in cells more often than not, so the idea of them actually being helpful is ridiculous and it shows in his face.

"You'd make more money and get more credit," he points out. The unspoken comment is why bother helping the world, since it's a shitheap anyway.

People feared him, but they didn't know it. They feared aliens and their presence, they just had no idea that they were talking about Michael Guerin and his siblings when they talked about the imposing alien threat. Funny. They just wanted to make a home and live their lives, but they don't get to do that.

Max said it best. They don't get to be with the people they want, and that's been true for Michael for ten years.

"If you're gonna go with telekinesis, I'd offer to teach you, but seeing as mine mostly works when I'm angry, it might not do much."

"If I wanted money, I would have stayed at home," he points out. "Or taken a deal to write a tell all book about my family. Though apparently that didn't work for my sister so..." He shrugs, not caring because that damn book deserved to tank.

"Because I seem the kind of guy that just smiles sweetly and lets the world shit on him?" He chuckles though at that. "I don't think working from anger would be touch. Could be interesting, and would technically still let me work with things as I'm used to them."

What difference was there in his ability and using telekinesis to throw knives?

Michael snorts, because apparently sibling problems range the whole world around, though it's not like he's surprised. After all, they don't have a monopoly on fucked up family situations, it just feels like it, sometimes.

He raises a brow. "I don't know, man. Compared to me? You seem pretty calm and easygoing," he deadpans, smirking at him. "I can do it when I want, it just goes a little haywire when I'm angry." Or it turns off completely, like those times with Alex when he should have used them, their secret be damned.

Test Drive 23

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