contagio | ( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 8

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. Bifrons Annual Gala. All the creme de la creme--and the Immune--are invited to the Bifrons annual gala, filled with food (real meat!) and drink (sunshine in a glass!) and expensive clothing you could want. Do you have anything to wear? Are you going to use this opportunity to schmooze, to sneak around to find some answers while everyone is distracted, or be an awkward wallflower? Or scoff at home about how everyone is so concerned with these silly events instead of cures?

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. Down with the Sickness. Something's going around. Is it a cold? The flu? Something worse? Are you immune to it, or just lucky? Are you sitting in a hospital waiting room, hoping to get seen, or just holed up in bed with the sniffles? Someone should bring you some soup and keep you company! Or complain with you.

5. Sewer Run. There's something (or somethings) lurking beneath the streets of Proles. You and other lucky people have been picked out, given a gun and a flashlight, and told good luck. What do you find down there? What finds you? Was that a cot and some discarded tablets in that alcove?

6. Outside the Dome. You're out and about without an armed escort, suited up against the atmosphere and dysthropes. Nothing could possibly go wrong...until it does. Was that a dysthrope moving...or a person?

7. WILDCARD. Choose your own adventure or create a cocktail from the presented options! The choice is YOURS.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's a soft snort at that. "Yeah, well. Maybe serving isn't really what I'm good at."

She stopped a fight from breaking out, stopped security for trying to stomp on him. Not that he was worried about them. The Towers security was a little on the slow and wimpy side in his opinion, not nearly as hardened as someone that actually had to fight to live. But that he wasn't fleeing from the building was something that maybe he should be appreciative of.

He's not the kind of man to say thank you though. So if that's why she's lingering, she'll be waiting for a while.

"What do you want then?" People didn't often jump in the middle of things without a reason.

"What are you good at?" She wasn't letting him escape that easily. It was pretty obvious, like Zombie, that the guy was used to not having his actions or attitudes followed to any logical conclusion. She wondered if he was all bark and no bite. In the meantime, she waved off the security, silently grateful that Alpha had considerable pull, and frowned slightly at the two people who hurried to clean up the mess and reset.

"I want this event to be over," she answered honestly, lifting a hand to push her hair back behind her shoulder. "Thanks for the distraction."

The waving off of the security doesn't go unnoticed, if anything, it makes his eyes narrow in suspicion. "Who's your boss?" He doesn't mind a conversation with a pretty girl, but he'd prefer to know the angle she's coming at before he tells her a damn thing.

Ringer purses her lips at the question, knowing the answer won't sound good and more worried about what he might assume at the man's choice to bring her with him, of everyone. But she isn't one to lie and, anyway, she's perfectly comfortable explaining and clarifying as needed. "Alpha."

She waits a moment, curious to see his initial reaction before she continues. "I work recon. He's my C.O."

"Alpha." The word is repeated with an utter flatness, and his look says everything she's assumed it would. "So you work with the head of the Callsigns, with his rich Tower lifestyle and his pet project of trying to fix District Four?"

Yeah, that's all rhetorical. He knows who Alpha is and he doesn't have a high impression of Alpha. He doesn't have much of a good impression of any of the Callsigns, and even less of one for anyone from District One.

"Why do you work for him?"

She can argue that Alpha isn't who this guy thinks, that the Callsign hates all the pomp and circumstance as much as anyone from D4 and has denounced his family for the exact attitudes this stranger hates. It seems better to start with something easier though, something that he's more likely to believe.

"I wanted to work for the military, to stay sharp for when I get back to my own world and continue fighting a war that can't be won." All said matter of factly. Ringer's not shy about her history. "I didn't like Victor and I'm better at recon anyway."

"Oh. You're an Immune." And as if that suddenly changes everything about her, he's eyeing her all over again. "Even captives brought here are more taken care of then some of their natives." It's not anger placed at her, but it's definitely there, boiling under the surface.

Because she's still dressed to the nine, here with an actual invitation, with free booze and food that many people in D4 would love to be at, but they're only invited when they're being highlighted for how desperately pathetic they are. Look at these dirty starving children. Just pennies a day and you can make a difference in their lives! No, not angry at her, just another mark against the Towers and the people that reside here.

And...well. He actually finds some comfort in her words, because he certainly agrees about her feelings for Victor. She had been a war hero once, but now she was using D4 as her own personal fucking statement and he definitely resented it. "Well, welcome to another place with an unwinnable war."

The ends of her lips twitch downward at his renewed appraisal. She couldn't care less what he might think of her physically, but the way his eyes evaluated her had far more to do with her history than her ensemble. Being thought less of for something outside of her control - her father's fame, her race, her personality, even her species - was something the girl was rather used to. That didn't mean it wouldn't continue to frustrate her.

"Your punching one of these assholes isn't going to help that," she replied plainly. Ringer understood that anger better than most and had seen it in a lot of soldiers. It made people sloppy and often got them killed. Like Flint. "The surest way to defeat humans is to rid them of their humanity. Don't give in to it."

The man he'd punched hovered on the edges of the dispersing crowd nearby, eyeing them with anger. Ringer knew that look and the stupidity that would follow it too, the man already plotting what else he might 'accidentally' do to cause more trouble for the D4 former employee. Without thinking about it, Ringer set a hand on his arm to encourage him to join her and began walking casually away from the area. It served both to keep him out of trouble - remaining there was practically flaunting - and to move somewhere quieter. Hell, he might be excuse enough for her to leave the party entirely.

"The war against the virus isn't unwinnable," she replied softly, when they became just more bodies in a crowded room. "Some people will be immune and you'll survive. The war against Bifrons is harder, but possibly faster. Everyone keeping secrets makes it harder."

Not that she was any exception to that.

"Do you always go around spouting words of wisdom, or do I just look especially dumb to you?" The words choice might be angry, but it doesn't reach the tone, doesn't reach his face. It might even be a very subtle attempt at something playful. Not that he would admit that.

The hand on him again was just as surprising this time as it was the last, but he recovered easy enough, catching the man's angry glare as she pulled him deeper into the crowd. "I think the server coat might give me away." He warned her. She could be getting herself in trouble by staying close to him, but she had to know that.

"Bifrons isn't the only battle worth fighting under the dome."

"It can't be both?" Her tone was as dry as ever. There was a reason it took Razor so long to catch on to just how often she made jokes and teased. Her dry tone was often mistaken for sincerity. It was something Ringer had no interest in changing, helping her to sort people to some extent based on their willingness and ability to comprehend the way she was.

"Then take it off," she replied easily, even knowing he was probably only wearing a t-shirt beneath. It occurred to her that she could probably ask Alpha for his suit jacket and he'd likely give it to her. On second thought, she had a feeling the guy wouldn't be likely to accept it. Besides, she was more keen on the idea of leaving. "Or we can go."

Ringer paused once they were buried in the crowd, turning to face him. Continuing to engage with him was mostly selfish and she knew it. The excuse to leave, interesting conversation, a puzzle to solve. But it was also the chance to learn about real problems from a native more likely to speak his mind than most, something refreshingly not about Bifrons or dysthropes. "Which one are you fighting?"

( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 8

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject