contagio | ( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 6

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( 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.

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Likewise, Shepard.

[Thane knows he should technically be sort of surprised that the commander is the one he's hauling from the deluge, but he's not. He might as well be shocked to find krogan in Blood Pack territory -- if he were to encounter anyone from home here, now, it would be her.

Once they're both steady, Thane looks to the flood, then to Shepard. His expression is unreadable.]

You have to admit, this is your style.

[ Sloshing around, dripping wet was not how she had wanted to be seen, but Thane had seen her in worse conditions. And she had seen him in worse as well, though if he was standing here... ]

...Hey I don't blow things up all the time!

[ She wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Thane was here, she wasn't going to complicate it with what she'd experienced. Wordlessly, she gripped Thane's hand, a brief squeeze before releasing it ]

So then-- since you know my style so well. Next guess as to what we should be doing? [ Her eyes were now on the waters, checking for survivors. That's what she had in mind, at least. ]

"Aye. There is the small dial on the center-" He rests a finger against, dragging it in a circle. The shape of the shield warps and flexes, shifting from angular to round to square to elliptical, the thickness of the hardened light altering at each stroke. Another twist of the hand made the light shift from blue to red to copper easily. "We have not quite managed to work out heraldry- they do not see much use for them here."

Colour, too. This is... she doesn't even have words for this. It doesn't seem like it could be solid, much less strong enough to hold back a substantial blow. Aveline adjusts it, cycling through colours -- green, to yellow, to orange, to red.

"This will really hold?" There's a share of scepticism to her tone. It's definitely lighter than a metal shield, which is a huge advantage, and she'd have to get used to it, but that's not so impossible, either. "This is... is this some sort of magic? I was beginning to think this place had none."

Because while she's seen spells that are something like this, she's never seen anything else even close.

A very good question. Aveline has no reason to trust him. He's given her every reason to the contrary.

"I'd like to be able to help," he says, honestly but still feeling stilted. He pauses, breathes out, and adds, "There aren't any mages, here." There are at least two without magic, but there is no Circle, no Templars, which is really what he means. At the end of that sentence, he looks up, meets her gaze again. It's...difficult. He doesn't regret what he did, but he is sorry it had to come to that.

[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.]

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?

Warden! [He sounds thrilled. Having friends is really novel, okay? Trustworthy friends who stick with you and might detach you from a wall.]

I'm really not sure...if enough people came, you might try pulling. At the very least I have this blighted itch on my nose. [He isn't really asking for that. That would be silly.] Surely there's some way to switch it off?

Hello, Anders. [ She sounds amused. Lots of amused. But also worried because what happens if his limbs grow tired, will he still be stuck? ] If we weren't strong enough to pull you off, we risk breaking your limbs in the attempt.

What do you think of being rendered unconscious instead? [ That would probably work, wouldn't it? RIght? ]

That's true, and I do need those. [A light chuckle on those last few words, followed up with a contemplative sound. If there's something he's still doing, he does need to switch it off. And if he can't sort out how to end it himself, then...]

That does seem like it might be the best way to stop whatever is causing this, at least long enough to get me back to the laboratory. Do you think they can undo it, the, er, geneticists? Or have I foolishly cursed myself?

I suspect that you would not be the first to exhibit such a strange...side-effect, and we will take you back to them and insist that they find some way of suppressing this. [ If she ends up insisting at knife-point, well. They've put Anders in a dangerous position and she doesn't trust the geneticists here much to begin with. ]

I will find something to promote sleep and then...find Hawke, perhaps, and see how we might get onto the wall in order to get you off.

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.

Reaper pulls in a sharp breath of air when he hears a voice close to him. If he were his old self, this wouldn't have been such an embarrassing surprise when he takes a diagonal step back. He would have heard him a mile off--Hell, would have smelled him before that.

Then again, even heightened senses can't prepare him for the face looking back at him, even if it's marred by upgrades. The guy keeps talking, resigned to this bizarre coincidence instead of gawking like a limp dick (aka Reaper) as would be the natural reaction. What did they do to him? Well, shit where does he begin? Oh right! He can't! Yep.

All he can do for now is stare as his mind tries to come up with an answer. Bringing a hand to his mouth he pulls it back and extends his hands to mimic something coming out... You know, like fucking fire!

"...fire? Again?! f'fuckssake-" Whiskey grumbles as he pulls up Grimm's file to check the when and most importantly the why of the goddamn experiment. If they would just tell him when they were going to pull this shit his life would be so much easier.

"You're the fifth one this month. The fuck are they doing over there? Ok look just follow me to an exam room and we'll get you sorted." At least by now he knows how to treat this. First poor Bastard is still in the burn ward, recovering.

[Yeah, she's responding with video because he needs to see this face. This very practiced and very well known 'I told you so' face. She's not even going to say it. Nope, it's all right there just so he knows she's adding a tick to her side of wins on the scoreboard.

Actually, she's not going to say anything yet until he agrees he shouldn't have tried to get a genetic upgrade, concedes to the fact he was being a stupid jerk, or asks for help again the way a brother should grovel.]

"I'm not sure that lacking magic now makes up for what you've done."

She sighs, a heavy sound touched with anger, but it's a cold rage rather than a hot rage. Aveline runs her hand over her face, trying to find some place to even start. She'd drag him in and turn him over to the authorities, but who even is that, here? She doesn't know, at least not yet. It's all too new, too alien.

"If you're not a mage," she asks, bluntly, "are you still an abomination?" Because Justice is a concern, here and everywhere.

[If it had occurred to Thane that he and Shepard might be from different points on the timeline, he may have taken her behavior for more than simple gratitude.

But it doesn't, so he doesn't -- at least not yet.

He focuses on the flood again.]

We need to find the water's source. There may be a way to shut it off, or at least slow it down.

[They could buy some time for survivors to evacuate, what few there probably were. The water had come on so fast that Thane doubted most people even had time to react, let alone climb to safety.]

Failing that... well, there are the barriers.

[Impenetrable wall vs Commander Shepard? His money's on Shep.]

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?

[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.

"I was never--" he starts, because that's not fair to Justice, even if he corrupted him with his anger. But that's a pointless argument right now.

"He's still with me," he says instead. "We're the same person, he was always with me, not the Fade. I don't glow now, though. Which is what you're really asking, isn't it."

I'm not that high up, really. Just...stuck. But thank you, I'd really appreciate that. [Getting him down AND getting Hawke. His two favourite people.] With any luck, the solution won't include an even more incapacitating side effect. Promise me you'll use me as a battery to something useful if I end up petrified, will you?

"Actually, I'm asking because I have a vested interest in making sure you don't blow up any more buildings."

Although the glowing is probably part of it. How dangerous is a demon -- or a spirit, sorry Justice -- without any magic? Is there really is no magic here, because that sounds impossible on so many levels. How does that even work?

"How does that work, without magic?"

"That was a last resort. I wouldn't have done it if I'd seen any other option. I don't...do that sort of thing on a whim. Peaceful solutions weren't working, no matter how much I wished they could...I gave them every chance. If mages keep their heads down forever, the atrocities of the Templars will continue, slavery in the name of the Maker." Haha he could keep going for hours...but at this point, Aveline's glare is something solid, enough to stop him dead, licking his lips nervously.

"...it...works the way it always has. We share our thoughts, our goals. All it means is now we've both lost our connection to the Fade. And yet we're not Tranquil." He says this part quieter, more to himself. "Was that always an option the Templars chose not to take? Or is it just this place?"

"You gave Meredith exactly the excuse she was waiting for," Aveline points out, but she's not exactly looking at Anders either. She was there, after all. She chose her side and it was the same side as Anders, to her very great surprise.

Meredith was insane. She would have found an excuse one way or another.

"All you did is prove that mages are dangerous and apostates can't be trusted. How many innocent people's deaths are you responsible for now? How does that help anyone?"

Anders breathes out, a long sigh. "I didn't prove anything the Templars all didn't already believe. Anything was taken as proof in the Circle, especially in Kirkwall but everywhere else as well. Templars take everything away from you until you're desperate, until you'd do anything just to feel human again, and then you're labelled as another reason why mages shouldn't be allowed to exist. They made Karl Tranquil for writing letters to me. Desperation and necessity can make anyone dangerous. It isn't limited to mages. I....don't know how many died." Probably quite a lot. The Chantry square was always busy, as was the Chantry itself. "But someone needed to take action. While Meredith and Orsino were in their stalemate, more mages were abused every day in Kirkwall, made Tranquil for looking at a Templar too long, or drinking too much. Any compromise could only leave things stagnant, the mages still imprisoned and controlled."

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( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 6

sheparrrrd c:

Thaaaane

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#3: Audio

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Levi| Attack on Titan- #1

yyyyyyup

poor boys

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Alistair / Dragon Age / #4

lila zacharov | curse workers | 2

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