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( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 7
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. Pet Adoption. Maybe you have the perfect genetically engineered pet in mind. Maybe you found a stray little escapee--do you keep it or turn it in? There's a reward if you let Bifrons know where the potentially dangerous little bugger is at, after all.
3. Alterations. Feel like you need an edge in the city? Find yourself injured and looking at options? Why not consider genetic alterations or, better yet, upgrading to a better, healthier you? Be warned, some of the side effects can be a little unpleasant.
4. Network Glitches. Strange garbled messages keep trying to come through in audio and text, but no way to track where they're coming from. Do you try to make contact? Compare notes with others? Surely it's nothing to be concerned about, right?
5. Dome Glitches. What was that in the window? There, again, in the bathroom mirror! Is that another you, living another life? Or maybe you spot an ominous shadow lurking around in the corner, something like a dysthrope but...worse. You're not going crazy, are you? Others see it, too, don't they? Oh, I wouldn't touch that reflective surface if I were you, or you might end up thinking you're living in that strange other world.
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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Still not quite over it. Probably never will be.
"There were some assholes in power armor tearing up the Hub and I got dispatched in. They were on floor 99 by the time I got there with the security detachment they provided. Those guys were fucking jokes too, it was pathetic. They were basically just distraction while I took out the targets, I guess. I had them all down when their backup showed up. Got one of those, and the other threw me out the window. I hit the sidewalk kind of hard. How about you?"
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"You fell ninety-nine floors?"
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He winces and blushes a bit.
"Sorry. I mean, that's...rough. And a lucky escape. It's...damn heroic, really." He sounds a touch envious, somehow. "All I did was get hit with nerve disruptor fire."
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"They scraped me off the sidewalk and then I was in traction for two weeks while they regrew my bones. Didn't grow well enough, though." She tilts her head. "What's a nerve disruptor?"
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"It's...sort of a ray gun that fr--kills nerves." Fries is a better descriptor for how it feels, but he'd rather not let on that it hurt. "Sort of a bell-shaped barrel. The center of the blast was right about here."
He gestures vaguely toward his lower torso.
"Spent the next year having surgeries to replace dead nerves with prosthetics. It wasn't as bad as it sounds. I'm just glad I can walk. People who survive nerve disruptor fire usually wind up...not like me at all."
His smile twists a bit.
"I met a guy who was hit in the head with it and lived. I guess his mother takes care of him now. Couldn't even talk. He's probably in diapers these days. So I'm pretty lucky."
All that babble to avoid any chance of depressing questions by radiating cheerfulness about it all.
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Some days, it's really hard to remember that. "Really glad you got that desk job though. Being stick as a civilian is... not fun."
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"On Barrayar, you don't...see people like..."
He gestures. Us.
"Admiral Vorkosigan probably saved my life, giving me the job. And it's not really as cushy as all that. It's a lot to keep up with. He's been good to me."
A faint smile.
"He issued me this. Try it."
He hands her his stick. It's a lot heavier than a usual cane, and upon further inspection, has a button on the side.
"Just don't point it at anything important," he adds, a jovial twinkle returning to his eye.
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Wrath's eyes light up the minute she has the stick. She recognizes the heft. "Nice!" She points it toward the floor and releases the sheathe, catching it in her hand. She draws the blade from there with the fluid movement of someone who has done that countless times. "Too long for me, of course." She grins. "But this is some good work. Wow!"
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He looks slightly pained to try to explain. They're our Vor, duh.
"They're...military aristocrats, I suppose. Some of them are our feudal lords, but the rest are just...Vor. They're there, they have the privilege and the money. Used to be all the officers were Vor, till the Cetagandans invaded. Now I can be a lieutenant, where, say, my grandfather couldn't, but I can't privately own weapons. All the weapons I use belong to the military, if you follow."
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