contagio | ( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 6

Entry tags:

:: meme

( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 6

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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

[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!

Edited 2014-11-05 03:05 (UTC)

[ 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 ♥ ]

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.

Edited 2014-11-05 04:50 (UTC)

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?

Edited 2014-11-05 05:09 (UTC)

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."

"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?"

As a mage, Anders has never really had to learn how to use a weapon before. He knows the theory behind it, and he can stab an enemy at a pinch, but here he is, defenceless in a strange new place and all they're giving them are these...portable lightning generators? If his magic still worked he could do this with his hands...

But despite his unwillingness to join any form of law enforcement here, despite his intent to learn to heal here as much as he did in Kirkwall before, he can't leave his safety solely in the hands of Hawke. That sounds like a good way to make an even greater burden of himself. So, self-defence, the important thing-to-learn of the day.

Naturally, this means that as soon as he works his way in, trying to be unobtrusive and inoffensive, he's faced with Aveline holding one of those guns. And him without his Hawke. Ha. Now the thing to do here is...hazy, actually, she can't actually shoot him, after all, not in the middle of everything, and he doesn't think she would, either. But she wants him to face justice as much as that driving force inside him had wanted him to before...well. He's mostly diverted that now. Do the people in charge here know he's a fugitive?

But then, of course, his cause, surely that deserves him standing firm in the face of Aveline, and he really did want to learn how to use those weapons, after all.

He's just standing here like an utter fool, waffling. He should leave. He can come back another day--she can't possibly ALWAYS be here.

"Aah," he says, instead of leaving. He walks over and touches a gun, turns it over, looks at it instead of her. He's so tired. "Did I miss the lesson on which side the lightning shoots out of?" he tries. He's rusty at this, really, he's left it to Hawke for years. "That seems like an important first step, knowing that. Not, you know, shooting my foot..."

"No, I don't."

She looks over at him, an eyebrow raised, sizing him up. Someone else, then, from a similar point of reference? Someone else who doesn't quite feel at ease with a device like this? There's something reassuring in that.

"I prefer a sword and shield," Aveline says, "though I'll make due with a two-handed sword just as easily."

"This end," Aveline says, curtly, "is the end you point away from yourself."

And to her credit, she is actually pointing at the right end, because lying about that would be the absolute worst thing to do, even to Anders. She eyes him carefully, for the moment not really sure how to respond. This place... this place isn't where Anders should be, and taken out of Kirkwall, it's hard to know what to say to him.

"Give me one reason I should show you anything about this."

[ 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

Edited 2014-11-05 09:02 (UTC)

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. ))

"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?"

Oh, you know, just a little bout of genetic alteration. No biggie. [No, Orion, biggie. Definitely biggie. He's still trying to hold onto what little pride he can in this situation.]

Too much to hope there's a reset or undo button, huh?

"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!"

Booker was emptying his pockets before Elizabeth had caught up to him. He looked over to her and then to the food in her arms. A bag he was glad she'd not gotten sooner else it would be the water's to claim.

He licked his lips and drew in a long breath, held it, stuffed his crap back in his pockets and sighed. His package of cigarettes drenched but he was sure it would soon dry enough to smoke. He took Elizabeth's burden in his arms and nodded to her question. He then led them a few feet to set the paper bag down on the curb and sat himself down next to it. His eyes moved back toward the building and a hand moved to his face with a tired rub to his eyes. "This kind of thing isn't something that happens a lot.. right?" She's been here longer than he has and he put a lot of faith in her to lead him around as she put in him to lead her out of Columbia.

Though he did shake that faith a few too many times he still was able to accomplish his mission -- only to rectify past and future sins in the end.

Not that he enjoyed thinking about this often, but the fact that water had him washing out of his home was something that led him down that particular thought pattern.

Only a little. Booker was accepting of the help only until he was upright and able to manage himself then he was more than not brushing the man's hands aside, "yeah, thanks.. I .. goddammit.." He shook his head and secured his footing as another wave of people, items, and lifestyles came out the front doors. "Jesus."

His hand moved back onto Joel's arm and they both leaned one way too much and slipped into the pour of water that carried them out a bit further from the entrance.

Once that current was done Booker got back up to his feet, bare feet that is, and wiped at his face. "This sort of thing happen often?!" He complained with an angry gesture toward his flooded apartment building. No, it wasn't just flooded, it was like an ocean was trapped inside of it!

"Fuuuu--!" Joel didn't have time to respond before he was ass over elbows again, tumbling down the street alongside the other man. When they finally came to a stop he lay there on his side panting, rubbing his jaw. At some point, Booker's knee had landed right in his face. The older man squinted up at him when the question was asked.

"Not always. Sometimes." He huffed as he pushed himself up to stand and looked down at his drenched clothes. There was little point in trying to wring them out right now, another flood may come at any moment. He did rub excess water off his face and arms. "You alright?"

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!][

"A shield I have for you, then. Though a sword may take a moment's search." Tis a small, strange thing he offers her. A flat discus that is light and evenly balanced. There is a small indicator, a port for a charge, and a small switch.

"But a flick of the wrist and..." He does so with one in his free hand, a thick, dined shield flashing to life surrounding the disk. The shape odd his I'd tall, angular. The cut of the guards shields in the palace. "Shape, color, and resistance as well as the command to wake it are yours to choose if you wish."

"Not so far. Just be glad you missed the Thanos virus-- only one of us needed Comstock talking to them."

She peers at what Booker is fussing with in his pocket, wondering if it's his cigarettes. After thinking about what would have to be done to make the apartment less prone to mold, she could use one. But given Booker looked rather damp at the moment, even if it was his cigarettes they're no doubt going to be a challenge to light right now.

"How much do you have on you? Enough for a room for tonight?"

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."

Ringer walks onto the training grounds, glancing around. The place isn't exactly familiar, but she spent enough time on a military base to understand the basic layouts. The strangeness is not the changes between these grounds and her own, but that she's not the only person here so late at night.

"I came to train," she calls out to him, not wanting to step on any toes if the place is closed or if he's disinterested in company via any measure of proximity. "Is that a problem?"

This is... strange. Aveline takes it, turns it over in her hands almost suspiciously. It's not like anything she's seen before, that's for certain. It doesn't look... strong enough. She gives it a flick; the first couple of attempts she doesn't manage it properly, but the third one reveals the trick, and the shield opens.

Okay, she's impressed.

"You can change the shape?" That seems even more impossible than anything else. "Can you show me?"

From afar it looks like the guy is smoking, puffs of smoke in the cold air. Not something that's really even noteworthy, but when there's not many people in the street he has an unconscious tendency to notice the inconsequential.

But maybe the smoke is a little less normal than he gave it credit for because when he steps close enough, there's no cigarette hanging from that mouth. A mouth that actually looks kind of familiar in an annoying way. But since he just met his own doppleganger, it's a less magical moment than it might have been.

"Hey, Puff. Did you swallow your cigarette?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 11

( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 6

Booker DeWitt { Bioshock: Infinite } # 2

Thane Krios / Mass Effect / 2!

Commander Shepard / Mass Effect / 3

Aveline Vallen / Dragon Age 2 / #5

Orion Talbec | Destiny AU | 2 & 3

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

3 | Audio!

John "Reaper" Grimm | DOOM AU | OTA

ooooh boy...

no subject

BOOQUERR

no subject

ur gd right, booquor on ice.

shaken, not stirred

Lex Luthor | Smallville - 2

no subject

no subject

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

5

no subject

no subject