( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 7

[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. 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.

Comments

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"Just Whiskey, please. I'm off duty." He gets more than enough of that at work, or on the new army compound. Or in the new Callsign Building in D3. Thing is, he gets plenty of it and doesn't need it when he's in jeans and a button down trying to mind his own goddamn business till idjits start flying around like they own the fake sky.

"Nah. Somth'n from home, I get it. Test 'em closer to the ground and take notes. If they work out awright? Go for it. Just...wear protective gear. You're not as able to take a hit as you used t'be."

[runtofthelegion]

...great, someone else who wanted him to not use their title. He's so bad at that-- it's all of his legionnaire training, to be sure. Rank has been drilled into his head since he was young, whether they were off-duty or not.

"Sure," Caine nods, but he knows it's going to slip sometime or other.

"I don't know," he frowns and hikes the boots up higher on his shoulder. "If I'm lucky they'll give out when I'm testing them closer to the ground. And if I'm not? They'll give out when I'm trying to hairpin turn into an alley." And no spray here would fix that kind of accident. "What kind of protective gear is available here?"

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"Hovercycle protective gear, mostly. Coupd prolly get you someth'n that'll help you from a higher fall if you asked around D4. Discreetly." Not a lot of Caine spoke to discretion by way of look'n around. Guy kinda stood out. Big and pale as all getout, pointed ears, feral stature? Yeah.

"Could get one of the non bifrons techs to double check the work. STark's got a good rep. He could do ya a favor."

[runtofthelegion]

"Discreetly." He ponders this for a second then nods. If Bifrons didn't want him at his full strength, they probably didn't want him too armed or protected. He'd wanted his shield after his boots, but it sounded like protection was going to have to come first.

"Depends on what he wants in return for the favor, but I'll talk to him if you think he's that good."

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"Wear a hoodie or someth'n. You stick out." He leans back on his heels, arms crossed, looking the kid up and down. That's even without the ears. Not a lotta people built like him wandering around D4 on a good day. Toss in what he'll be asking after? There could be trouble.

"Money, information, booze. That kinda shit. He redid my eye when it got fucked up 'while back."

[runtofthelegion]

Never in his life has Caine considered that he might 'stick out', even when he was waltzing around Earth trying to find Jupiter. But this wasn't Earth, these people weren't entirely primitive, but probably not used to a splice. He concedes the point and nods with a little annoyed sigh. Walking around is going to be hard-- why can't he have his boots?

"Sounds promising, at least those first two things do," Caine tilts his head and looks at Whiskey's eye again. "Guess he must be pretty good if you trust your eyesight to him."

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"We get- well. Used t'get, now it's if whoever's in charge of Project immunis feels like shar'n- files on everyone. Portioned out with need to know kinda data. As the Callsign in charge of your physical wellbe'n I get a pretty whole one whenever there's a file t'peek at." Tony's obnoxious, sure, but he knows his craft. "He's skilled."

[runtofthelegion]

Caine takes this in and nods silently, filing away the name. But there's something that pulls his interest more than how skilled Tony Stark is.

"How much information is in my file?" Would it tell him if he really is genetically pre-disposed to attack Entitleds?

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"Any copy I get is pretty damn complete, cover'n most of the medical history, psych profile, previous injuries, etc." Things like that. Shit that helps him do his job.

[runtofthelegion]

Psych profile, that could be the ticket.

"What about any genetic breakdowns?" To Caine, a genetic breakdown would be a very important part of any complete file. "...Did you happen to see any kind of anomaly, anything that could suggest I might be inclined to attack someone in particular?"

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"Now that kinda particular aggression begs the question of nature versus nurture." Which is a fair one even in this century. "Ain't nothing in anyone's DNA that should make a body try to attack another body. That's all conditioning. Psychological, not physiological."

[runtofthelegion]

"No, it wasn't that," Caine shakes his head, looking a little disappointed. He'd thought that if this place was smart enough to put ports in him, they could figure out what was wrong with him. "No one coerced me to do it. At least, I don't remember anybody telling me to. It's a blur."

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"You weren't attacked or provoked?" Because those are usually the culprits. "Not a case of self defense- nothing on them that screamed 'enemy'?"

[runtofthelegion]

Caine sighs and shakes his head. He's kind of sorry he started this line of questioning, he'd only thought that maybe he could get an answer this time. "I don't know. Like I said, it was a blur. Before I knew what was happening the Legion was talking about putting me down. Said I was genetically defective."

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"Bull and shit." that's not how it works. "It sounds like you might've been set up. Cuz there is nothing in anyone's DNA that'll make 'em just snap on a dime and attack someone."

[runtofthelegion]

Caine sighs and shifts on his feet. Protocols, protocols... he only really knew how to explain these situations to extremely primitive planets, and it wasn't as though this place was backwards. Just... not terribly advanced in genetics.

"I know it seems impossible, but genetics are everything. The human genome is like a soul. No one says anything like 'follow your heart' where I'm from, we all know what our path is from the get go." Or they're defective.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"...please don't spout that anywhere someone from the Genetics Department can actually hear you." It does make him wonder about that time Joyce showed up. About the men that wandered around with his face- no. No that's not possible. "I've seen men wander in with my exact DNA- and we're more different than anything I've ever seen. That's not how it works. That can't be how it works. Genetics are just that, genetics. I'm not gonna dig around in philosophy but that? That ain't right. You can program a predetermined length of hair or length of life, how you look or how old you'll get before you grow a grey hair- but not how you'll react to any given situation. That's all experience, memory, training. It's not in the blood."

[runtofthelegion]

Caine's still stuck on 'I've seen men wander in with my exact DNA'.

"...and they weren't clones?" Obviously not, clones were never really viable for sustained life. This is kind of breaking Caine's head-- this is like saying he could be in three different places at once. It's impossible.

"You couldn't have had a Recurrence, you're still alive." Not to mention even if he had died and had a Recurrence, it would have been the fastest Recurrence known to humankind.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"...once it was a clone- but right now there's a man, John Grimm, with my exact face, build, and DNA- but he ain't me. There was another one, almost my same goddamn life, my same goddamn name- from a different shade of reality- and he wasn't me either." The vagaries of time and space made motherfuckers of them all, apparently.

[runtofthelegion]

...the fabric of Caine's reality is unraveling very quickly.

The idea that maybe Bifrons found a way to bring a previous Recurrence into Proles without them... dissolving or going insane or whatever happened to souls that were multiplying is mind-bending enough. The idea that there had been three of Whiskey running around makes Caine want to sit down.

"That's... impossible. You can't be three places at once."

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"They ain't me. Therefore: DNA say'n exactly who a person is? Is bullshit." How the hell would twins work then anyway? They wouldn't. Seriously. Who came up with this? Probably whoever would benefit most from it. "Dna is just what you are. Only person that gets to say in WHO you are? Is you. Claim'n that DNA tells you what your destiny is? That's some eugenics based, caste system bullshit."

[runtofthelegion]

Caine stares back at Whiskey, dumbfounded for a second. It was true that the relationship between splices and humans hadn't always been so smooth, that history had seen rebellion and unrest before.

"But isn't it easier to just know what you're supposed to do and where you belong? Without having to fight for a position?" Caine had had to fight for his position, truthfully, but he'd been a runt. That had been expected. He couldn't imagine why anyone would put themselves through that voluntarily.

[oldfashionedfutureboy]

"You earn your position. If you want somth'n better? You work hard, play your cards right, and earn that one too. Equal play'n ground for the most part. At least where it matters. If you got the knowledge and the skills t'do it? Ain't nothing like your blood gonna keep you from gett'n it done." That's just how it was.