contagio | ( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 7

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( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 7

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. 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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Max isn't necessarily one for gambling himself. His parents disdained it, brothers avoided it, and when you know you have more than enough money to keep you going more than comfortably, there's not that much of a thrill to it.

He likes the atmosphere of the casinos though, and some of his clients preferred to meet him in person before they hired him. One of those had just concluded amicably and now he's just killing time. A few drinks while he sits and watches a poker game, eyeing up the contenders curiously. Mostly natives, a couple of Immune if the gunmetal glimpse of metal ports he gets is any giveaway.

Native. Max screamed it to Eames' trained eye. In dream terms, Max would be part of the subconscious, someone who belonged there, part of it from the beginning. If only this was a dream. It would make things so much simpler, in the long term, but his life was never so easy. Besides, if this was a dream, he wouldn't be in the casino attempting to augment his meager fortunes, he simply would have manipulated it into being so. But again, life was never so easy for him.

But a native could be used, and he needed that now. Someone to use, to coax information from. It really wasn't so different than dealing with someone in the subconscious, and he'd had plenty of training in real life dealing with it as well. Making sure his outfit was neat but not to slick, letting his hair come a bit out of the carefully swept back look he tended to like, he grabbed his drink and meandered over to Max with gate that said buzzed, but not drunk, roguish but not a criminal.

"What do you think of them, mate?" he asked, taking the seat beside Max and sipping from his glass.

Being approached is not something unusual, although he's been seeking company less and less over recent months and the times he's stuck around long enough to make any sort of connection are virtually nil. Still, there's no harm in talking and it doesn't pay to be rude to someone who he's got no grudge against.

Max leans back against the bar, his own drink held loosely in his hand. He's far from drunk himself and hadn't been planning to get that way.

"I think they spend too much time playing poker."

Relaxed, but not loose, no slurring to his words. Not drunk, and probably not looking to be so. Considering the time of night, if he was aiming for that, he could be much deeper in his cups. Of course he could be getting a late start, but who got a late start in a casino?

"Poor saps, right?" he shook his head sadly. "Any games you recommend?"

He glances over at the man, looking him over quickly. "If I have to play, I usually prefer Blackjack. Short attention span," he said with a grin. "Want a drink?"

"More chance than strategy," he nodded in agreement, like it made perfect sense. Full lips turned up slightly in a smile and he nodded, jangling his own glass which was mostly empty, somewhat watery even. "I think I could do with another round. What's your name, friend?"

"I like to feel lucky," Max replied with a small smile. "What do you drink? My round. And I'm Max. You?"

"Hmm, and less chance of losing all your quarters to a machine," he nodded, tilting his head ever so slightly to indicate interest, leaning in forward just a touch. "Eames. And I'll take another scotch if you don't mind. That's a gambling man's drink."

"You'd be lucky to find a machine here that only took quarters." It was one of the more expensive casinos. Nothing was that cheap. "Nice to meet you." He ordered a couple more glasses of scotch, one each. "Good taste."

He accepted his glass with good form and tipped it towards Max in thanks before taking a gentle sip. Good stuff, top shelf. Yes, he would need to cultivate a friendship with this one.

"Let a man dream, Max, let a man dream," he shook his head as the warmth hit his belly. "Even poor men are allowed to pretend in these hallowed halls."

Max didn't drink his straight away, kept it between his hands, swilling it around the glass. "I'd feel bad if someone lost everything because I said they had a good chance of winning."

"Well, that's not really fault, now is it? You come in here expecting to lose a little, maybe a lot. Winning is a hope, a faint dream of possibility, and that's what brings us in here in the first place. It's about an adrenaline rush, really, not the money," he shook his head, crossing his legs casually, tucking an arm beneath his chest as he leaned up on the bar.

"I suppose so. Still, I'm not really much of a gambler." He didn't like wasting his resources when he could put them to better use. "Maybe you should take up cage fighting or something instead."

"Cage fighting?" he swallowed some of his drink, screwing up his face into a convincing look of befuddlement. "Do I look like I can take a punch or something?"

"I wouldn't like to say. You might be deceptively strong. Got a few of those 'round here." Max leans against the bar, grinning.

"Hmm, the tattoos have always been a good bluff," he laughed warmly, though it was hard to say if it was because of the drink or not. "So, since you're not a gambler, what is it you like to do around here for fun, Max?"

"It helps," Max replies and then gives a shrug. "I just like the atmosphere. Really I tend to just bring a book or something."

"Reading in a casino. That's a new one," he shifted his stance, still looking interested, but definitely more comfortable now. He took a long draw of his drink, his gaze never leaving Max, focusing on him and blocking out the rest of the casino, seeing it in sweeps of color and blurs or motion and light. "What sort of book?" he inquired. "Or maybe I can guess." He canted his head, considering the other for a moment. "Mystery?"

"It's a pretty nice place to read. Food, drinks, people watching." Got him out into society instead of holing up in his apartment all the time.

Max snorted at the game. "I like a lot of things. History is good, reading about Earth and everything before the Dome. Fantasy novels."

"Earth, huh?" he asked. Talking about the planet like it was a foreign thing was still strange to Eames, but it hammered home the reality this was not Earth and definitely not his era, and probably not a dream. As crazy as some people dreamed, he had never heard of anyone making another planet, a whole society on this scale. No, not a dream... and he wished that was a comforting thought.

"I prefer the ones with grand heroics, myself," he chuckled. "There's something quite lovely about getting to be the big damn hero."

Max shrugged. "Yeah. I've lived in the Dome my whole life. It's nice to read about what came before. Where we came from." Hearing about a planet that wasn't a wasteland. It sounded like an amazing place.

"Oh, those are fun too. Save the world and all that."

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( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 7

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