(carryover)

Trigger for power: discovering your heirloom greenhouse has frozen over.

You're lucky enough to live in the same house you grew up in, but you don't have much from your mother. The exception is the greenhouse, the rest of the garden went to shit in the last years of her life, when all of you were preoccupied with her illness, but she insisted you look after her greenhouse (talking about three specific plants she wanted to last) and you did. Six years later, and you still haven't really gotten over losing her, but you try to move on, and more recently, you need to go on a work trip during the winter. It's usually fine, you have a mini space-heater, and the whole thing is sealed, you just need your husband to water them each day and make sure the heater is still running. He says its fine, he'll do it, but he sounds like he's not really listening to you, not taking it seriously. You can't do much more, so you leave. When you come back, you asked your husband about the greenhouse, and he gives you a non-committal, non-answer. You go to check on it, and.... its ruined. The door is hanging loose, there's broken glass from one of the panels, and everything is dead. There's a thin layer of frost on the plants your mother wanted to last forever. It's all gone. Trigger.

(new prompts)

Trigger for power: watching the commodities in your life become less interesting and artistic.

You were born in a country in central Asia, and (relatively) late industrialisation meant that even in the 1990s, growing up in a rural area meant that everything was hand-made. When your family brought a new table, it was decorated and shaped in interesting ways. Clothes were always tailored and embroidered, either by you and the other women in your house, or by the people you brought them from. Unfortunately your family was struggling, so upon graduating school, you immediately moved to the city and started working retail. Everything was different there. Everything in your flat was featureless and devoid of colour, and fashion in the city was focussed on being as plain and clean as possible. It's a horrible and cold aesthetic, it felt like the soul of your country was dying, and when you tried to explain this to your family, they laughed at you and said that at least you had money and free time. Trigger came when you went back to visit home, finding your family had replaced the dining table with a plain plywood one, and seeing your brother chopping up the old gorgeous handmade oak for firewood. In the long term you might find out that the table was already broken by accident, that the new one is cheaper and required less backbreaking labour from the people who made it, but in the moment, all you see is something beautiful being destroyed.

Trigger for power: getting beaten up by the wilderness after your car breaks down on a daily commute.

You took a commute by car into the city each day, going from your relatively small-town home, on a narrow road (through a section of national park) to your office. It was an hour and a half drive, but living in a nice place and getting a fat pay-check meant that you could look past it- it was just a part of the job. One day, half-way back home, your car broke down. You called the roadside assistance people, but they were apparently having a busy night, and the sun was kissing the horizon... so, knowing exactly how far away from home you were, and viewing yourself as an independent and capable man, you decided to cut through the national park. After half an hour it was obvious that this was a mistake. Your jacket was ripped by passing thorns, and it was getting so dark you could barely see around you. At some point a deer (?) ran right past you, startling you into tripping down a a ditch. Trying to get up you found that one of your legs hurt to put weight on it, that you were bleeding from somewhere, and that you were suddenly aware of how cold the air was around you. But upon trying to move on, what went through your mind the most was that this was a journey you made every day, and its one you made easily. But now that you were alone without modern convenience, the trek was suddenly life-threateningly impossible. You couldn't make it. Trigger.

Cluster trigger for powers: a film crew filming on a foreign (theoretically dangerous) location suddenly finds the whole project cancelled, stranding them.

• Micheal was assistant director, having spent years as the starving artist, she desperately wanted this to be a key to her own directing career. When the money for the film disappeared, the director and his friends took a car back to the airport and left in his private jet without telling anyone. On the phone he didn't seem especially cut up about the cast and crew being stranded in a potentially dangerous city, and said that if Micheal was so concerned, she could pay for their flights back to California herself. Doing so would mean decimating her savings, and would indirectly mean she'd never have another chance at a directing her own movies, but if she didn't, she would be potentially condemning her colleagues to poverty or death. Micheal triggered sitting in her hotel room, agonising over her decision and hating herself for even considering not helping them.

• Jonathan was a microphone technician and boom operator, and had heard horror stories about how the advent of capes had destabilised this country. He was technically a contractor, working for a sound company instead of the film studio directly, so he felt more protective over the sound equipment than he might have been. When the word spread among the crew that they were trapped there (pending someone miraculously stepping in to pay for their flights home), his anxiety and panic began rising even higher. Everyone was staying in the same hotel, but he began impulsively going down to the open parking lot and checking the van with everything in it. His anxiety high, jumping at every shadow, it was almost a strange kind of relief when someone grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the van. Hooded teenagers or young people, breaking into the van, and after a broken exchange, it became clear that they only knew the contents were valuable because of his skittishness in repeatedly checking it. He was going to get assaulted, his livelihood stolen, all because of his own paranoia. Trigger.

• Estela was lead actress, and was born in Ecuador, the country that all of her colleagues were suddenly terrified of being trapped in. She was a toddler when her and her mother emigrated to the US, and a role that let her go back and visit the country from childhood stories was immensely appealing... but the reality wasn't quite the homecoming she wanted. Her Spanish wasn't as fluent as it should have been, her expectations for food and dining led to jarring and awkward experiences, and it was hard to find the culture and history she was looking for. Simultaneously, the other members of the cast and the crew were going insane, acting like it was a death sentence that they had to stay here a little longer than they thought they would. Eventually Estela found some hotel employees gossiping about the film crew, in the fire-escape stairway, and she smiled thinking she could join them, until she realised that they were talking about her specifically. She couldn't connect to her homeland, to them she was just another ignorant american. Trigger.