( 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

[gitanes]

[He might try to disguise it, and maybe on the surface she doesn't hear the undercurrent of obedience - but something in her understands it all the same, and she responds to it, straightening and watching him go with narrowed, satisfied eyes. Of course he loads it himself. Of course he does. She wavers again, unsure whether to believe him, unsure whether to call him a liar.]

[Maybe better to call him nothing at all for now and see what happens.]

[She raises her eyebrows right back at him.]

It gets me talking to you ever again. What, were you expecting something more?

[kissthatgoodbye]

Oh, come on. [He snorts almost delicately, flicks his eyes over to her, chin tipped just enough down that despite his greater height he has to look slightly up at her.] We both know you'll talk to me again. That much I get for free.

[This isn't so much a cheapening of her attention as it is an elevation of his own opinion of himself; even if he just annoys her into interacting with him, he doesn't think for a moment that this will be their last conversation.]

I just need to know how hard I should be trying.

[coppermarigolds]

This, too, strikes her as being something magical, the sort of thing she expects a mage to throw in battle, not a mundane weapon. But if she can do it, well, then it can't be magical, surely.

"It... seems simple enough," she remarks, though she's frowning slightly. This is obviously the sort of thing that needs to be done in order to be learnt, and she picks up the rifle, mimicking Thor's skill as well as she can.

The recoil, however, catches Aveline off-guard; it's more forceful than she expected, and she stifles a gasp.

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. ]

[gitanes]

[Her eyes narrow. He's caught her out, and she hates being caught out almost as much as she hates not being right. But the thing about lies is, once you're caught in them, sometimes the most disarming thing to do is begin to tell the truth, however improbable it is.]

[She tosses her hair over her shoulder and shrugs, a gesture of uncertainty, of her own lack of devotion to the outcome.]

I might respect you. I can't guarantee it. I don't even know if that's something you'd want. But that's what it is.

[stopmjolnirtime]

"Tis deceptive in it's scope, true. But it takes force and practice to manage it well." He sets his rifle down to sidle up next to her, resting a hand along her shoulder. "Brace here. Hold it as you would your shield against a firm blow."

[kissthatgoodbye]

[He laughs, an easy, honest sound; he doesn't need her respect. It would be nice if he could earn it doing as he pleases, but it's not something he's willing to go to bat for, not really.

But even he can see that respect is not something someone like her just hands out. I'm not your kindergarten teacher, her own neat line of shots down her target, and he wonders if it would be helpful or hurtful to that end goal to expose himself now.

Sometimes, the most disarming thing to do when caught out in a lie is begin to tell the truth; but Alec hasn't been caught out yet, and he doesn't intend to be. He nods.]

I can work with that.

[At which point he walks down to his target, shoots the bullseye pointblank with the handgun, and tears it down off the post to bring back to her.]

[gitanes]

[She almost lashes out, or leaves. She doesn't care for being laughed at. Or - even if he's not laughing at her, it's because of what she said. He doesn't value her respect, that much is obvious, and it's not that she's hurt by it, it's just insulting and so far from her realm of experience. People used to beg for her respect.]

[The unfortunate fact is he gets a little bit of it anyway when he brings over the target. She doesn't smile at him, but it's a different kind of not smiling from before. The measured look she gives him indicates some level of taking him seriously. Brand new. A little worrying.]

You're a cheater.

[Cheating she respects probably more than anything else.]

[kissthatgoodbye]

Of course.

[He meets her unsmiling face with a casual but blinding smile anyway, completely satisfied with himself but with eyes somehow bright, young, eager. He holds the target out between them, unwavering despite the less than warm reception he's earned himself so far.

Of course he's a cheater. Everyone is. Anyone who says differently is also a liar - which is also something that everyone is, himself among the best.]

What, did you think I was going to somehow miraculously improve, like I've been faking it this whole time or something?

[gitanes]

[Cocking her head at him, she takes the target from his hands and folds it up as small as she can, tucking it under her arm. Hers now.]

Yes.

[Totally serious here. Yes, she mostly did think he was going to suddenly miraculously improve, like a big fake faker. She still doesn't know what she believes about him. She thinks she's going to keep this, though.]

At least you're not as coarse as you look.

[kissthatgoodbye]

[Alec has a smile for every occasion, and at her confirmation he shows her another one, amusement shot through with very real charisma even as she takes the target. He drops his hands away, clicks the safety on the gun, and shrugs.

He is a big fake faker. He's pleased to know she's noticed, but nt enough to call him out. Yet. This is points on both sides of the scoreboard as far as he's concerned.]

Well you do know how to build a guy up. Do I get to know a name, or does being anonymous help keep this entire thing clandestine?

[gitanes]

[She raises her eyebrows, faintly amused now and even letting it show.]

Clandestine? We've just been shooting really loud bullets repeatedly in the open. There's nothing clandestine about this interaction.

[Which is a total lie, but just because she knows and he knows and they each know that the other knows that they've got lies in common doesn't mean she has to voice them out loud. Lying about how clandestine things are keeps them clandestine. Perfectly simple.]

It's Lila. And you're . . . Brock or Sam or something.

[kissthatgoodbye]

[He rolls his eyes but not harshly, not letting his smirk slip even a bit, not even when his gaze returns to her.]

Everyone is shooting really loud bullets repeatedly in the open. The only way to be clandestine is to do it too.

[It's confidence logic, sensible on the surface, nonsense just below but he doesn't leave enough space for that to be discovered, repeats her name instead with approval -] Lila. [- and doesn't react to the dismissal of his own name being forgettable.

Instead, unruffled:] Alec.

I'm Alec, and you should let me buy you a victory drink.

[gitanes]

[Another point for BrockSamAlec: the only way to be clandestine in the middle of a mess is to be just as messy, no messier, no neater. She grins at him and shrugs, like, well, it's close to being BrockSam anyway.]

Here's the caveat about a victory drink, Alec. I love victory. And I love drinks. And generally I have nothing very strongly against boys who look like their name is Brock or Sam or Alec or something who get me a target with a hole through the middle.

But if you buy me a victory drink, what you're actually going to be buying are two very expensive victory drinks. Get it?

[kissthatgoodbye]

[Alec actually pretends to consider this for a moment, as if somehow it wasn't obvious the moment he saw her, as if he could have somehow missed what he was getting himself into.

Well. He's worked to get this far, he may as well do whatever it takes to close the deal. He holds out a hand, palm up, fingers bent.]

Lemme see that target.

[gitanes]

[No way. She holds it close, arms crossed over it, more out of the principle of the thing than out of sentiment. No touchie.]

It's mine now. What are you gonna do?

[kissthatgoodbye]

Give it to me, and you'll find out.

[His hand is still outstretched, expectant, both eyebrows raised, the corners of his mouth perpetually curled.]

[gitanes]

[Curiosity or not ever having been taught to share as a child: which will win? It's a struggle for a few moments, but eventually she rolls her eyes and hands the folded-up target over. Or, well, if by "hands" you mean "whacks him on the arm with it and lets go" . . . something like that.]

Okay, what?

[kissthatgoodbye]

[As a child, Alec was never taught to expect anyone or anything to play nicely, so he's not fazed by how she chooses to hand it over.

He snatches at it with his free hand, though, touch and go for a moment before his fingers close on it securely and he's grinning again.

The target goes back onto the post - the nearest one this time, not where it originally start - and the safety comes off his gun so he can fire more bullets into it, still operating close enough that the muzzle flash of the gun leaves the paper scorched.

When he hands it back, it says "Y".]

[gitanes]

[She watches all this with unflinching attention, following the movement of the first upper line of the Y before she realizes what he's doing and starts rolling her eyes again.]

What are you, in third grade? [she yells over the last shot, and then, when he can hear again:] Seriously. You ruined my target.

[No, he made it better. She hates that so much she cannot even describe.]

[kissthatgoodbye]

[Alec ignores her until he's done, of course, because she's being just as showy as he is. Oh he doesn't doubt she thinks it's ridiculous, but he still expects her to take it back, grins at her sulk.]

Figured I'd better do something to deserve having to buy two drinks. That about do it?

[coppermarigolds]

Well, that she understands well enough. Her muscles tense under his hand, and her mouth sets into a determined line. She will master this, this strange weapon that apparently can shoot... lightning... or something that looks sort of like lightning to her. She doesn't have a better word.

Aveline lines up another shot, and fires again; this time, she's more prepared for the recoil, and her aim suffers less for it. Different from wielding a shield, different from her limited experience with a crossbow, but... she can do this.

"I'll definitely need practice."

[goodforsix]

[A smile is a good thing, and Isabela offers one back, not turning too serious yet, as she doesn't feel the need.]

Only what the helpful people told me. Something about things we have to kill. Clearly, not much is different from home sweet home.

[goodforsix]

[Look. When it's 'bela time, it's 'bela time. Get used to it.]

They're like pajamas. Some people like them, some people don't. I think I'll keep them just for that.

[But in all seriousness...]

So, big girl. Thoughts on things besides my clothing? For example, where the hell we are and why they took my knives?

[coppermarigolds]

[Eyeroll. Huge, exaggerated eyeroll. Fine, lost cause. It's not like the words "Isabela" and "pants" usually go together anyway.]

They like taking weapons. Or, apparently, replacing them with useless versions. As far as why...

[She shrugs.]

Apparently we're immune to their Blight, and they need us to fight it for them.