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( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 8
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.
Jack Holden | Zombies, Run!
[Well... for all that this place is technically better than the Zombie Apocalypse, Jack is not actually all that enthused to be here. Not considering he is now missing his actually rather pleasant life in Alderney, his housemates and his housemate's growing army of cats.
Oh yeah, and his husband.
It's been weeks since their ninth wedding and he still can't stop grinning dopily whenever he looks at the gold band on his fingers (helpfully salvaged from a jewellers by one of the New Canton runners.
So if he looks a bit sappy when he shows up on the comms, please forgive the lovesick fool.]
Good... morning? I think it's morning. The whole [He waves vaguely.] dome thing takes a bit of getting used to.
I am your charming host, Jack Holden, and I am actually here to make a bit of a request...
Eugene... 'Gene, if you're listening, if you're out there, let me know man.
[OOC: Or feel free to grab him out and about.]
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[Jack, meet . . . Jack. A Jack. A Jack with what looks like a cluttered, chrome spacefuture version of the radio shed behind him. Piles of equipment, wires, several screens and datapads - and a steaming mug of tea that he's now ignoring to squint closer at the screen.]
. . . okay, this is the weirdest prank anyone's pulled over the network in awhile.
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He just stares for a moment, glances behind himself, half expecting to see someone there, or a mirror?]
What...
Christ if I'm going to get this stoned, the least that could happen is I remember the bloody party.
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[He half-smirks, too bewildered to do anything else, too weirded out and curious to quite be threatened.]
I mean- if you're trying to impersonate me. You're a bit shit at it.
[A beat.]
No offense.
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I have no idea what those things even are. And the only thing I've been drinking is Phil's cider and...
okay, that is possibly not the best excuse.
And excuse me. I am not trying to impersonate anyone. You sir, are a scoundrel for even suggesting it.
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[He scoffs, flopping back in his chair pointedly.]
Yeah. I'm the scoundrel. You coming onto the network with my face, my voice, my freaking name-
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it's my name.
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[Jack's agitation dissolves, suddenly and wordlessly, leaving only stunned silence as he stares at his twin.]
. . . Proles. Which. I'm guessing you're not originally from.
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If I was, doubt I'd be saying how much this place takes to get used to. I'm from near London.
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[Earth. This is- him, but actually from Earth, not just brought up with every artifact of it his parents could dredge up.]
Okay. If this is a prank it's a really good one.
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Oh right, if it's a prank who the hell is going to believe they lived through two zombie apocalypses. Apocali? [It's not the same without Gene there to tease him.]
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[Heh. Ellipses. He grins despite himself, giving a little wavy hand gesture.]
You know, 'cause they just kind of. Trail off . . .
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Bloody wish mine would trail off. My mates have got a hell of a time.
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