( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 6

[contagio]

THE TEST DRIVE




Like it or not, you've been dragged from your world into the sanctum. It's a pretty nice city, all things considered--sci-fi, high-tech, glamourous.... Except, of course, for the giant dome encircling it, and the threat of glitching, contaminated zombies at your door. Looks like humanity's built itself a fortress that looks suspiciously like a cage, too. Toss in the odd memory blanks and the everpresent logo of Bifrons incorporated and it's enough to make someone paranoid.

The object of this meme is to get people familiar with the world of the Sanctum, and to try to see if their characters would fit in a sci-fi utopia such as this. Here are your options:
1. Intro: Waking Up. Make your intro post, folks. You wake up in a strange place, and get a strange transmission to go with it. There's a pair of glasses connected to some sort of communications network, but otherwise not much else in the room with you. What are you going to do? 

2. Environmental Glitching. You know the story of Noah? No? Now you're living it.  Sealed portions of the districts are overfilling with water, flooding streets, fields, and select city blocks. Do you climb up to get to safety, shut off the water, or find a way to break down the barrier to the next sector over? 

3. Genetic Altering. What it says on the tin. Except...it's not quite gone right, has it? Are you supposed to spit acid when you hiccup?  Are your insides acid resistant? No? Oh dear.  Warped experiments gone wrong, your augmentation has twisted around on you for horrific or hilarious results.

4. Memory Glitch. No one knows your face. You don't exist on the network. In fact...you're not all that certain you are who you think you are anyway. Haven't you always lived here?  

5. Military Training. Everyone's got to start somewhere. You're training the green folks, maybe you're one of the newcomers yourself. Maybe you haven't even touched a gun before in your life. Either way, you'd better start now.

6. Outside the Dome You're out and about without an armed escort, suited up against the atmosphere and dysthropes.  It's supposed to be a green sector in this run down shell of what used to be a suburb, right? Nothing could possibly go wrong

7. Wildcard. Choose your own adventure or create a cocktail from the presented options! The choice is YOURS.

Comments

Booker DeWitt { Bioshock: Infinite } # 2

[alternate123]

Everything was a goddamn struggle. Lifting your leg didn't mean it was going to rise above the hip-deep water, no. It meant it was tangled and trapped between the desk, drawer, blanket, or unseen creatures that clung onto you with malicious intent to make you drown. The latter a figment of his imagination, surely, but all the same Booker DeWitt was convinced the very atmosphere was intervening for ironic fatality.

He had been here a few months, only a few months, and was damn sure there was nothing like this that had happened before -- or else his apartment would come with a drain installed to get rid of all this water.

"Yeah, and don't think the satire escapes me.." He said to no one in particular after he finally managed to break his leg free from the furniture and bedding. With that Booker escaped his apartment and found the hall just as flooded. The stairs was a shoot void of fun as he and many others from his building washed down the water tunnel and all but flooded out onto the street.

First the Ark and now the flood. But it didn't really start there did it? Always started with sin.

Booker had some solemn thoughts as he became one in many outside. Residence and passerby all still on the street and watched up as the apartment building gushed water out of its every orifice.

[tearmeanewone]

Elizabeth had broken into a run when she'd seen their apartment had turned into a bountiful fountain, but once she'd seen Booker already standing outside she slowed to a walk. Bag of groceries in hand, she came up beside him looking very put out.

"I suppose the new couch is ruined."

BOOQUERR

[ohmygodshivs]

"Move it! MOVE!" Joel had been an innocent(?) bystander when the rush of water poured out of the house. He had been walking by, nothing more, when suddenly his dusty boots were soaked and his feet flipping over his head as he tumbled painfully along the cement street. Now, he was back on his feet and trying to get everyone else out of the way of the water pouring out of the building.

He was drenched, with a mean expression on his face as he bodily picked a teenager up off the street and jogged out of the outpouring water and set him down. He ran back into the gushing water and started picking up another person, this one a full grown man, trying to get him up into his arms. "Come on, move it!"

Thane Krios / Mass Effect / 2!

[distantshores]

[Thane is no stranger to water -- he grew up on a planet with 90% ocean cover. That doesn't mean he's a fan of water, however. A flood isn't great news for someone with an illness that's exacerbated by dampness.

...Or someone who can't breathe underwater, for that matter.

He does what seems most sensible at the time and climbs until he's standing on top of one of District 4's many shabby houses as the streets fill with water. Lucky it's so cramped; he can practically walk along the rooftops as though they're a pathway. So that's what he does; if there's a way to shut the water off, he intends to find it.

Soon, however, something catches his eye: a person is in the water, clinging to a scrap of debris. Thane jumps down to a lower level rooftop without hesitation, and kneels at its edge to extend his hand to them.]

Give me your hand. Quickly!

Commander Shepard / Mass Effect / 3

[brb_reapers]

[ Thane was in good company, being amongst those who couldn't breathe underwater. Humans had the same trouble, though responded with different conditions when in constant exposure to high humidity planets. One thing was certain, that voice and the texture of the hand caused her to pause. The shock was brief, but she hadn't expected to see anyone familiar here.

Least of all... Maybe she couldn't breathe for the moment for entirely different reasons. ]

...Alright, first, I'm telling you. This? Isn't my fault.

[ Often times where there was destruction to be had, she was not only in the thick of it, but had something to do with it. She smiled, and with some effort, reached out and grasped Thane's extended hand. ]

But you really are a sight for sore eyes.

[ooc: I couldn't pass this up ♥ ]

Aveline Vallen / Dragon Age 2 / #5

[coppermarigolds]

She can see this is a weapon, and she lifts it with the care and caution of someone well used to weapons of various sorts. This, though, is not a sword, not a shield. If it's close to anything she knows, it's closest to a crossbow, but that's never been her weapon of choice. Oh, she knows the basics of how to use a bow, perhaps, if only because that's the most basic of training, but she would never choose that over a sword, never choose distance over being in the thick of battle.

Aveline turns the gun over in her hands, lifts it, stares down its sights at the target. It's all wrong: the weight, the shape, power behind it, and she lowers it again without firing.

And she sighs. Somehow, she doubts this will ever feel right.

[stopmjolnirtime]

"You care little for their rifles." Something they have in common. While there is skill to be had in the use of these ranged arms it lacks the artistry of a blade. The heft of a spear. The solidity and sense of rightness one might find with a shield. Adjusting can be difficult but no more than any other part of living under the dome.

But to a warrior? A true warrior. Tis almost insult to put them on the range and expect them to like the advancement. Thor has watched this copper haired warrior manage the rifle with some discontent and has approached with one of the spears he'd had designed for use by the infantry. "What arms are you most accustomed to?"

Orion Talbec | Destiny AU | 2 & 3

[post_proelia_praemia]

2

[It was a lot harder trying to figure out where he needed to go without Ghost throwing the markers up on his visual display, but Orion was determined. He sloshes through the water with his poor excuse for armor (not the first time missing his Light-imbued collection from Xür and Zavala) and tries to find a maintenance hatch or valve or something that might cut this torrent off before they all wound up under water.]

This can't be much different than venturing into space, really. Hopefully.

3

Hello, Network. Orion here. [Audio, since, well, he figures not everyone wants to see his swollen red arm. The pain comes through in his voice, though, as much as he tries to hold it back. He had missed the influence of the Light, and had hoped Bifrons would be able to come up with something comparable. Accelerated Healing sounded like it might have done the trick, but he's discovering it's quite the opposite.]

Let's just say - hypothetically speaking - that someone went and did something dumb. Anyone know where to go for damage control?

3 | Audio!

[forcemageure]

[ Hello, Orion. Network an incredibly helpful person* Hawke here. ]

You might want to be less hypothetical and more specific. What sort of dumb something has this ...someone went and did? Broken a toe? Tipped over a pitcher? Said the wrong thing to his intended?

*no**

** maybe

John "Reaper" Grimm | DOOM AU | OTA

[c24]

03. action or text He almost sets his whole fucking room on fire with one yawn. The expelled air lights the moment it comes out of his mouth, like he's some kind of fire breathing dragon. That obnoxious drowsy feeling is immediately soaked up by adrenaline, heart hammering a mile a minute as he looks frantically about.

"What the--?" He can't get fuck out before he reflexively slaps his hand over his mouth and almost singes himself for the trouble! This low pain tolerance thing is getting tiring real fast.

Getting out of bed with his mouth tightly clamped shut, he finds a basic workman's jumpsuit to put over his undershirt and boxers. Try as he might even the quick panting from his nostrils sets the air around him hot. Shit shit SHIT! Reaper grabs his communicator and virtually types out an urgent text.

So new development: I can breath fire. Help?

Then he leaves to find someone to either point him in the right direction of just who to sucker punch for this or, even better, help him. But he's not sure how he's going to explain this without taking anyone's eyebrows off in the process.


05. John had needed plenty of his own time re-polishing his marksmanship. After decades with a super human eye, his trajectory rivaled any drone software. Now, he's practically a hopeless human all over again. And that requires adjustments and compensations to find that keen eye again.

With all that time, Reaper has been happy... enough to help anyone looking for basic training or a want to hone what they already know.


((ooc: Prose or action is fine. ))

ooooh boy...

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"Lemme guess... genetics department got t'ya." Fantastic. Now they're scooping up Immune fresh from wherever the he'll they came from in the first damn place. That said Immune looks like Jim from about eight or so years ago is just icing on the bullshit cake.

How the hell is he supposed to do his goddamn job if no one fucking listens to him? Whiskey sighs, bionic left eye whirring as he scans the man's face to pull up his medical records. "Grimm, John, right? The hell did they do to you?"

Lex Luthor | Smallville - 2

[ihope]

Our only hope- that was the fat lie that first recording had spit out, and it had stuck in Lex's mind, because how could the meaning of it ever slip from him? Or, okay, maybe the words hadn't been those exactly- it'd been a while and things in this cage sure loved to get muddled. There was a leak first, he'd thought, and it would be fixed and there'd be no disgusting slosh under his shoes every step. The day went by and the irritation wasn't diminished because the water level only rose and soon there's the considerable doubt of competence of anyone else in the dome if the water hadn't been contained yet. Lex of course did his best to stay dry, to avoid those flooded places.

It was quickly becoming a pain to find dry ground.

And after, to find ground that was under just a foot of water- just two feet- he moved into the inside of whatever building let him crowd in (and it was humiliating to scurry in like a rat, you know).

Oblivious, he wasn't. This flooding had gone on now long enough that it was elevated from nuisance to problem- a very real problem. The young man turns once at the sound of something rushing down the hall (and what that rushing is, is obvious- it's the water taking control where these people hadn't). There's some stairs nearby, but they're narrow- and there's not going to be much time to think anything over before the flood sweeps what it can-- and that's how Lex finds himself moving forward to grip the railing, lurching forward, shoving whatever body had been there thinking to do the same. There just wasn't space enough to share, and, see, Lex just really didn't want to be the one to get the brunt of the flow. Sorry.

][ooc: give me brackets or prose, I don't mind!][

o hay gurl hay. you come here often? c;

[whatmatters]

Ringer takes a shoulder to the back as she's working to hustle up the stairs, leading the small group of people to safer ground. She immediately responds by twisting and sending an elbow to the man's kidney. Her patience for egocentricity is low and for causing panic, it's even less. The stairs break out into a hallway not two steps above and she quickly follows the man who just shoved past her, allowing the others plenty of space to go the other direction and continue climbing.

"Go," she calls to them, not entirely convinced they're smart enough to continue on their own without prompting. Then her attention is on the man before her and she looks less than amused, though not exactly stern or angry. "No one wants to drown. You attacking people isn't helping."

#3: Audio

[eleutheromanic]

[It took Anders a while to decide to send this out on the Network. Because, well. He has a past, all right? But here it is, anyway. He sounds fairly resigned.]

Whether or not you believe me, I used to be able to cast magical spells. Shooting lightning, mending wounds, that sort of thing. It brought me a lot of trouble, but it was part of who I was, and I miss it. So I did some looking into genetic alterations and I found something that could sort of duplicate the lightning, to at least some small extent.

[Is he still there? He stops talking for a while, only the faint sound of breathing letting someone know the recording isn't over.]

I'm stuck to a wall? [He suddenly speaks again. It's sort of a question, but not really because: yes, he is stuck to a wall.] I knew there could be side effects to it, I was warned, but I've ended up quite a bit more magnetic than usual, literally magnetic, and I'm only lucky I had these glasses on before it happened because I can't move my arms. Or anything else. I'm in District 3, on a metal wall fairly near the main building if someone could help? Right. [He sighs. And then the recording does end.]

Audio

[havardr]

You are...magnetic. [ Wut. Can you hear her pinching the bridge of her nose? You can, can't you? No elf deserves this. ] Maker help us all. How are we supposed to get you down then, find a bigger magnet and wave it in your direction?

Levi| Attack on Titan- #1

[captain_clean_freak]

Staring straight up, Levi conceded that this might not be some sort of screwed-up dream. Most of his were filled with Titans and people dying; besides, this place smelled.

Not like blood, or dirt or the normal disgusting press of people, but like metal. Really clean metal, which set off every internal alarm he had. Sense of unease and flat out wrong increasing he carefully sat up and eyed his surroundings. Metal walls, floor, ceiling, door. Table with my uniform, clothes and whatever the hell those are, he listed out mentally, eying the strange dark square and moving to sit on the metal panel before setting a bare foot to the cold floor. Repressing a grimace Levi moved to stand and felt the strange gown he was wearing catch oddly on his back.

Standing up he went to reach behind himself and felt his eyes go wide as fingers caught and slipped over what felt like smooth knobs with indents on them. On his spine. He proceeded to spend a full minute tugging, scratching and exploring the new additions to his back, getting more and more alarmed as he realized that there were new openings into his body that hadn’t been there before. This more than anything else convinced him he was nowhere near the walls or in any district. Sure as hell isn’t the Underground either, he thought, looking at the dull silver walls, I’ve never seen metal used like this.

Deciding to leave the things on his back alone he made his way over to the clothes set out and quickly donned them, feeling his eye twitch as the collared shirt caught on the new spine knobs. The new body ornaments were not okay, but he had more pressing concerns at the moment. Namely, where the hell was he? Slinging on the plainclothes jacket- the uniform something more than likely to draw unwanted attention- he stared down the odd glasses, small black rectangle and larger silver square.

Then proceeded to poke them, twitching back a step as the larger square started making noise, a face of a man at war suddenly staring back at him, and talking. Listening with a growing dread, Levi realized in short order that he was thoroughly screwed. Sanctum? Other worlds? A virus? He figured the thing that lunged at the speaker was a ‘dysthrope’ but that didn't exactly help. At least it was small, all things considered.

“Shit.” Gritting his fists and teeth he took a breath before prioritizing, gaze focusing on what he assumed was the comm, pocketing it, the glasses and gathering his uniform into a smaller bundle. Giving the room one last look he moved swiftly to the door and walked out.

Time to get some answers.

Alistair / Dragon Age / #4

[wittyoneliner]

Soooo is there a reason no one remembers my face? Or my name?

[SERIOUSLY GUYS. NO SERIOUSLY. Why does no one remember him?]

Right, I know. Any minute now it's going to be "haha, look at Alistair. He's so stupid, thinking we've really forgotten him" and everyone will have a good laugh. Very funny. No, I mean it!

[Yep.



...


Except...]


...Wait. I am Alistair, aren't I?

[eleutheromanic]

If that's what you think your name is, you may as well be.

lila zacharov | curse workers | 2

[gitanes]

[Lila's broadcasting from the top of a metal building, which is enough stories high to keep her from the encroaching water but not high enough that the wind might dry out her clothes. Which is unfortunate, because she's soaked from head to toe and clearly furious about it.]

All right. Questions. One: does this happen often? Two: how long does it last? Three: can I make it stop faster?

I really hope some of you are swimming right now, by the way.

[troublemancy]

[ Kelsier has (very prudently, he will say to anyone who will listen, and even louder when they will not) tossed a coin into the water and is balancing above it, burning steel. He flashes a bright grin at her. ]

Why, what are you going to do if it happens often?

Joel || The Last of Us || #5

[ohmygodshivs]

The pistol was held loosely in one hand as Joel glared at his student. It was a very natural, readily available expression amongst his limited arsenal of facial expressions. In fact it was one of the easiest and therefore most common of looks Joel gave anyone in any particular situation. Therefore it didn't necessarily mean he was pissed off.

But, he was pissed off. He had just spent the last twenty years fighting for his life every day against people who had been turned into monsters of the most tragic variety. Joel had no intention of fighting this war here and now, for this world. He was too old, too spent. This wasn't about fighting for any damn cause though. Joel was here for the money, short and simple. Money was a thing again in his life and Joel hadn't had a regular damn job in those same twenty years. This was what he knew, and what he was good at now. It made sense he would do this for a few months until he had enough money to maybe get into a business for himself.

"Alright, you know how to handle that thing?" What he was really asking was if he should be worried about getting shot or the student shooting their own damn foot off.

[colorfulapathy]

He's going to need to worry about both because April has lived a cushy life thus far, despite the world she lives in. There's never been a need in her life to mess with a gun herself and the only reason she's here is to justify why she's been hanging around the militia compound so much because apparently to see the new Ghost Wolfs training isn't good enough.

That doesn't mean she's going to make this easy on her instructor. Her hold on the pistol is loose and she waves it a little in the air as she answers, her voice is its usual deadpan, apathetic self. She should probably care more with a loaded weapon in her hand. "Yeah, you just point this thing wherever and bam."

Alistair Theirin [ Dragon Age: Origins ]

[templariffic]

Oftentimes, Alistair hadn't bothered to keep himself occupied with the goings-on around him, off in his own little world which occupied him well enough. But he could normally take for granted that the world around him actually made sense. This one was odd enough that he couldn't wrap his mind around it. Not that he'd confess such a thing, that would just expose himself for ridicule, he was sure. Maker's Breath, this world was odd, and the feeling of metal poking out of his back had him scrambling to see what it was, exactly.

The message, distracted him, but only because he'd begun to demand answers of the man he saw, only... he couldn't hear him. Or he was just downright rude enough to continue. But at least it was a warning. This place and its architecture were absolutely foreign to him. If it were the Deep Roads, he concluded, he would hear Darkspawn crawling about. If it were a Thaig, there'd be a ridiculous amount of Dwarven craftsmanship embedded in the walls and flooring. The Tevinter Imperium hadn't been a place he'd ever set foot, and mages there were capable of wondrous magicks, allegedly, but this... seemed more sturdy than magic.

Lastly, it could very well be the Fade, and realizing that left him with a grim look on his face. He gingerly set his feet on the floor, suddenly skeptical of everything around him. Cautiously, he made his way out of the room, leaving behind items of merit. But corrective vision hadn't been a necessity where he's come from, so the glasses would look like some ornamental piece instead of something useful to be used.

This must be the work of a demon, he was only clothed in his smallclothes. But his sword and armor didn't make him deadly, just deadlier. Approach with caution.

[antivanleather]

Sneaking about the halls dressed in precious little? Is the first normal thing that has happened to him since he woke. Seeing a flash of familiar hair and line of jaw does make some of this anxiety settle. "Now that is a sight for sore eyes."

Alec McDowell | Dark Angel | 5

[kissthatgoodbye]

[When the gun was put into his hand and someone began explaining how to take the safety off, how to load it, he almost laughed outright. Long, long, long practice let him keep a straight face though, and he listened dutifully, and then grabbed his communicator the moment they walked away.

Now he's yawning - it is way too early in the goddamn morning, even for a genetically engineered supersoldier that no one here knows is a genetically engineered supersoldier, maybe especially for those - and aiming carelessly in the general direction of the target. He fires off a shot just after the feed opens, two more as his yawn concludes, another as he shakes his head clear.

One more for good measure before he's squinting off down his lane. Good. He didn't hit anything on the paper at all. He's not about to get roped into being on the defense line again.

Which is when he smirks at the camera, shrugging impishly, gun loose in his hand as if he wasn't created to hold one.]

Gosh, I guess some people just aren't cut out for violence. How many more days of this do these yahoos think they're getting out of me?

[hellofist]

[It's not often that Cass sees someone doing the opposite of showing off, but the more she watches the more she's sure that's exactly what this is. It should be fine, even if it's confusing. It shouldn't bother her.

But the longer it goes the more she wonders, caught up in it but not missing her own bullseye. Weapons are like an extension of her own body, it would grate on her nerves to do anything but perfectly. That's why someone throwing their shots, hiding their worth bothers her, maybe. Either way, by the time he finishes he's got a not-so-impressed audience waiting for him.]

You missed on purpose. Why?

Isabela | Dragon Age 2 | #1, two prompts

[goodforsix]

SCENARIO A

[It was a dark and sexy night, and then it wasn't. Isabela awakens with a yawn and an indulgent stretch, taking in the unfamiliar clothes in an unfamiliar place. She observes, she learns, but she doesn't immediately jump at anyone's throat. It's a situation where little can be done until she gets her bearings, so she begins to look around for her clothing.

A futile exercise, apparently. So she looks over to the little device-glasses-whatever thing--she couldn't really put a name on it if she tried, and it doesn't look useful--and picks it up. Now that the situation is sinking in and she's getting irritated by whatever is on her back--she reaches back, touches them, frowns--it's time to get something done.

A recorded message blares at her, and that's new, and not good, really one of those things she'd like to avoid. But soon enough she understands (however one can) and starts... well, pressing the most likely buttons. It makes the thing happen.]

--like you can use it for anything I'd care about.

[There's a little bit of thunking as she tests various usages of the communication device.]


SCENARIO B
[Beautiful, dark-skinned, luxuriously raven-haired woman walking confidently down the street in her hospital gown. Discuss.]


[NOTE: I am playing her from DA2 atm, but should be getting my hands on the comics any day now.]

... scenario B, why the hell not

[coppermarigolds]

[Aveline blinks. And blinks again. It's not like Isabela ever wears a great deal of clothing, but this is just going too far. Hand over her face, like so.]

Isabela.

Linda-058 | Halo | 2 / 5

[gingerspartan]

2

[When it comes to disasters, Linda is a pro. Any Spartan is. Each and every one if them is good to have in a pinch. This situation isn't any different. She scours the district she's in one block at a time, looking for people trapped or too scared to venture out, ready to lead them to safety. There has to be a way to get through, to get out, and as she's been tasked with this just as much as she's tasked herself with it, everyone will get out safely. For a Spartan, their mission isn't just to fight, but to protect.

If you're floating and lost, expect a line thrown out to you, its end solidly anchored behind her or around her waist. If you're the more adventurous sort, you'll find her trying to turn a large wheel on a huge pump, still unaccustomed to generously provided nerfing of her abilities.

Is she helping you, or are you helping her?]

5

[Spartans are big. That's the first thing. Linda is tall and fit and with her hair grown out she looks about like an Olympic athlete. If she was one, her sport of choice would be clear, because as you see her off in the corner of the training area, she holds a very long rifle that could impress even the biggest weapons enthusiast. It's a sniper rifle, and though she's good with a great many things, the sniper rifle is closest to her heart, her weapon of choice, and the one she was most frequently tasked with bearing. She holds it now as she settles into a prone position on a raised surface, then pulls goggles down over her eyes. A few rapid, eerily quiet shots are fired in succession, straight at the makeshift target, and she looks impassive until she's finished. After that, she stands, looking the gun over with approval and pushing the goggles back up to her forehead. Addressing the crowd near her, the people she's ready to train, she holds the gun carefully.]

Any takers on round one?

Baymax | Big Hero 6

[inflated]

1

[ Baymax is activated in an unfamiliar room. He runs a quick scan of himself, an automatic part of his rebooting process, and notices a number of small anomalies. Metal ports, attached to his back, connecting through the vinyl straight down to his carbon fiber skeleton. He rotates his head, trying to see them, but can't quite manage to rotate it far enough to catch a glimpse. This leads to him turning in circles for a while, or at least until someone interrupts him. ]

2

[ The street is flooded. Luckily, Baymax floats. He has little to no control over where he floats, however, which is a drawback. ]

Felix Dawkins | Orphan Black | 2

[newwaver]

Felix was not happy. Who would be upon finding themselves suddenly ankle deep in water? By the looks of it it'd be even deeper sooner rather than later. If he'd known this would happen he'd have dressed more appropriately, or better yet not gone out at all.

Grumbling to himself, Felix lifted up his foot to shake the water. Not that it did much good since he had to put it straight back down again. Someone had better turn the water off soon. If this unprecedented paddle turned into a swim then he would be well and truly pissed off. Even more than he was now.

[hotglue]

Alison sighs. "This was not in the forecast, Felix," she says. "How are we supposed to get to my house in this?"

Primrose Everdeen | The Hunger Games | #1 (from early Catching Fire)

[untuckedtail]

[Instead of the feed opening up on the sight of a crying and confused 13 year old girl, she calmly sits against a wall with her dress tucked around her, pigtails fixed, and a kitten in her lap. Anyone looking close enough might pick up on the hint of puffiness around her eyes, the flush to her cheeks from the initial surge of fear - but otherwise there's no hints of distress.

She didn't have Buttercup, but the little kitten she'd found in the room had been a welcome distraction, the small meows not loud enough to drown out the sound of the video... Though they helped. Helped her work through the panic, take time enough to stop and figure out she wasn't in the Capitol, that they hadn't taken her. No, she was somewhere else entirely. She couldn't be afraid, though. Fear was a weakness, something that was exploited back home. If her sister was here, she needed to be strong - not just for herself, but for Katniss. And even if she wasn't, Prim wanted to have something to be proud of - some small triumph to share with her. Show her that she could be brave too.

Just like her.

Adjusting the glasses from their propped up spot, she toys with it for a little bit just to make sure she's actually transmitting.]

I'm wondering if anyone's seen my sister. Her name is Katniss. Katniss Everdeen? Or maybe Gale Hawthorne? We're from District 12 and she had to go back to the Games. She's -

[The kitten moves a little in her lap, letting out a small sound and shifting her entire train of thought.]

I think he's hungry. If someone could maybe tell me where I can find some food for him I'd be really grateful. [Though, she doesn't ask for herself. No, there were other things to worry about right now.] Thanks, I'm Prim by the way - Primrose.

[And with that she reaches to end the transmission, hoping someone from home heard it.]

definitely action, you bet your bottom dollar - ALSO MOCKING JAY PT 2 SPOILERS HERE

[littlecatnip]

[She's been here a little longer, only by a few days and is still feeling her way around here when she can bother to bring herself out of the home she's been assigned to. The pain of waking up, perfectly healthy and uninjured and alone, after seeing what they had done to Prim in the raid...

It's like seeing a ghost on the network. Anyone living nearby likely heard the hoarse yell of 'Prim?!' She's watching the feed for any sign that this is some kind of joke, another game being played by her mind or those that brought her here, but maybe Prim is still alive? She never got to see the full aftermath of the explosion, the dreadful confirmation that her eyes had not lied to her, but this place hadn't given her any reason to hope otherwise.

She's running. She's running before she even realizes she is, toward where she had woken up not long ago herself. Trick or not, she has to see with her own eyes if this is some ghost or hallucination or really her sister. Her expression is a strange mix of panic and indifference as she pushes her way through anyone who dares to be in her way.

She's calling for her sister as soon as she enters the facility, even if that means its employees are giving her odd looks. None of it matters because her sister might be here and Prim needs her.]

Prim?! Prim! I'm here! I'm right here!

Katniss Everdeen | The Hunger Games (late Mockingjay book) | 4

[littlecatnip]

(ooc: can be network or action responses! Bolded the part where she begins recording for the network.)

[She's been going through the motions since she arrived. A job was obtained out of necessity, one that didn't require guns or explosions or anything when the memories were still too fresh. A simple, mundane job that she never would have had if she remained in the Seam. She had hoped it would bring her comfort, but instead it brings only a routine, another thing she desperately needs as she struggles with being thrown in a new place after everything she's seen and been through.

Part of her thinks this is some kind of game done by either Coin or Snow, somehow. The thought gains further traction when she shows up at the storefront and is told she doesn't work there and they've never seen her before, was she looking to buy something, perhaps?

She excuses herself and her glasses are immediately pulled out of her pocket so she can search the network. Nothing of her is there, from her time of being here, and she wonders - was that all a dream? Is this all made up while she rests on a hospital bed in wherever they've dragged her this time?

She turns on the audio recording to record a brief message on the network as she walks down the street towards where she remembers her residence being. She's speaking as if this is an affirmation she has given herself many times before.]

My name is Katniss Everdeen. I have been here for seven days and two hours. I live in district 2, in one of the houses there. Why does no one remember me?

Ciel Phantomhive | Kuroshitsuji | Option 1

[sweetlies]

[Ciel wakes with a gasp, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. The last thing he remembered was Sebastian dealing with the Italian that had kidnapped him. He can almost feel where he'd been struck before his butler had shown up. He's not there anymore though and he's not back at Phantomhive Manor where the demon would surely have taken him.

He forces himself to sit upright, breathing slowly and looking around the room. Something still feels off though and he reaches towards his back, fingers brushing against the ports. Suddenly it's hard to keep him breathing slow and he tries digging his nails into it. This isn't right and he can't help but think about when he was younger, when the cult had branded him. When he'd made a deal with a demon.]

Sebastian!

[The demon isn't there though. Not that he can tell. And it takes a moment for Ciel to calm himself down and get to his feet.

First things first, getting changed out of the ridiculous gown he'd woken up in and covering his Faustian Contract. It takes him awhile to get dressed though, a little over ten minutes. It's infinitely more quick for him to slip his eyepatch over his contract at least and quickly picks up the communicator, looking it over.

The message is disturbing. Sickening, in fact, but he's been through more than most people would expect of a thirteen year old. He wishes her still had his gun, it's the one thing that was missing when he'd found his belongings.

He takes a moment to study the communicator before turning on an audio broadcast.]

I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive. I serve her majesty, Queen Victoria. Any servant of my household, if here, should contact me immediately.

[A short pause.] Sebastian, if you're here, this is an order. Find me. Right now.

[earls_pawn]

[This demon was not happy. Not only had he been stolen away in a manner he had no recollection of, let alone control over, but he'd been changed. No matter what he does, his form remains pitifully human.

Sebastian contains his fury with a breath of effort, then goes about dressing quickly before tucking away the hospital gown. The cloth might come in handy later. At the least, he has the clothes befitting a Phantomhive butler. And the contract on his hand serves as a reminder that even here, that remains a truth.

Meaning Ciel had to be around somewhere.

Which, there was the message. An order that curves a smile to an irritated demon. He answers swiftly, tone brisk.]

At once, my young master.

[Just as soon as he can figure out where Ciel happens to be. Since he can't simply summon himself to the lord's side.

He'll go door to door if he has to, and eventually he finally opens the right door. Mouth only a little strained.]

Old faces, different places l Marcus Wright/ Terminator: Salavation

[anewhero]

Marcus had been thinking for a while as he stood at a door before knocking. "I'm here...to see John Connor."

His face seemed serious as he waited. He wanted to be seen and remembered as a human, not the exterior underneath.

The John Connor he had seen had just learned to trust him and the John Connor here was probably not dying anytime soon.

[ecdemomania]

Phonecalls John did not expect to get today: some weird guy is knocking on doors in District 3 looking for you by name. It was one of those times where he was both really glad that no one knew why that would be an issue and completely infuriated.

The breakdown was this: John's name and address was public record, like all Immune. That someone was looking for him (in the wrong district to boot) without going straight to where he lived meant they were also Immune, probably brand new, didn't know how to access the record on the glasses, maybe never even used the Network at all.

Alternatively - and here's where John's paranoia reared it's ugly head - it was a trap. Plain and simple. For what? He had no idea, considering he was stuck in the future with zombies and a dome between everyone and the sky, weird metal bits in his spine and the possibility for his memory to be completely altered by them.

So. Tracking down some guy who was just knocking on doors at random. Not the easiest task of his afternoon, but he found him eventually. Stood off a ways and raised his voice loud enough to be heard. "Hey. You're looking for Connor?"

Elrond Half-elven | Tolkien

[loveathousandyearsgone]

5.

He had experience as a soldier, and had just come from a war. From the middle of one. He was needed there, desperately so, but he saw a high need for his skills here as well. He'd failed there, somehow the Enemy seemed to have won right before he woke here. Unless the message was right and time was frozen until he was returned, somehow.

Elrond may as well have been born entirely human after all that had been done. It felt wrong, but Gilgalad's herald refused to let that stop him. He couldn't feel what earth, air, and water there was. The creatures all around were silent to him.

Teeth clenched, he slashed his sword forward, out, and down as a sharp example and called out instructions in a carrying voice.


6.

Patrolling helped a little, it got him out and about. Even if he had to wear the uncomfortable 'space suit', which had taken some adjusting. How he walked. How he fought. How he moved in general. Elrond had even taken to binding his long hair back, though only when he was in the blasted suit.

It was an easy path he was patrolling just then, and had been sent out on his own because with his skills he'd be fine. But he hadn't been raised by Feanorians for nothing, he knew better than to drop his guard, ready to put arrow to strung bow or reach for sword if they got too close. A temporary measure, but still better than nothing.

More than what some souls had.

Movement caught his eye and he immediately drew several arrows, whirling to aim - though only firing when he was certain it was an enemy and not an ally.


7. Make up your own scenario!