( MEMES ) TEST DRIVE >> 003.

[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.

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. What are you going to do?

2. Failed Upgrade. One of your upgrades is more wrong than right. How will you cope? What exactly is different? Who will help?

3. Mission outside the dome. You've come under fire. The strange things are coming towards you. Luckily, you have your suit, your teammates, and a lot of firepower. Or are you stranded on your own, looking for someone to come to the rescue? Perhaps you're the rescuer.

4.Infected Something bit you. Now you're turning into them, and all you can hear is a high-pitched squealing in your head, like a frequency you just can't quite hear. Do you tell your loved ones, or do you wait? Do you trust your doctor?

5. Military training Everyone's got to start somewhere. You're training the green folks, maybe you're one of the newcomers yourself. Maybe you haven't even touched a gun before in your life. Either way, you'd better start now.

6. Chance encounter makin' my way downtown walking fast, faces pass--you get the point. You bump into someone! Shopping, or strolling in a park? Maybe just lunch in a cafe?

7. Glory to the Network! Network post. Text with general queries, say what you have to say to the entirety of the whole city.

8. Wildcard: Whatever you want. Mix and match, switch and swatch, make something else up entirely!

Comments

Re: [ w. graham ]: closed to juliett

[socialitesabateure]

[She doesn't spend much time as herself in district 4 anymore. Not with the ants nest she's kicked up while digging for the queen. King. General. Revolutionary- enemy. The only reason she's wearing her own face was a quickchange in an empty warehouse further up the alley. They were looking for masked and armored and armed. They weren't looking for her. No one was.

In this corner of the dome, no one knew who she was. The anonymity's something of a relief. Making a public nuisance of herself was stressful and vexing and she had nowhere and no reason to just...be. Not since Romeo's murder. No one's so much as called her by her proper name in weeks and it's as disconcerting as anything. He's the last one to have done so and part of her's viciously glad for that. No one ever said it with the same thread of wry reverence and affection. Juliett was slick and polished and smooth and utterly false. She wears it happily as she ducks her head down and stalks her way out of the alleyway, bound up in ignoring the throbbing of a bullet wound in her side slowly mending.

The same side that sparks with pain as someone crashes into her like waves on the shore- had she ever known a shore? Not here, not anymore- she braces rather than stumbles, too solid on her own feet for someone of her size, too strong for the vapid flower she painted herself day in, day out.

It's a rough part of town so she can whirl, she can snarl, she can swear, blue eyes blazing.]

Casse-toi, fils de pute!

[It's low and biting and- he knows her name. He stares and he stumbles and it breaks in half like a man grieving but she does not know him.]

...Beg pardon?

[designates]

[ doubt ebbs into dread at fuck off, son of a bitch! snarled in smoky French and Will really, really can't breathe. which is fine because breathing's boring, secondary, just a thing that people do without thinking about it and he doesn't pay mind to burning lungs or the saline that threatens to spill over the corner of his eyes. instead keeps his mouth open and gaping, and tries to say something. it's not that his lips and tongue won't cooperate, and it's not that he has nothing to say: it's that he's trying to say too much all at once. hit all the keys on the typewriter and it's going to jam.

Will jams. blanks, balks. scans his eyes over her with an abject sadness, hurt, betrayal.

words come to him but the situation forbids him the luxury of a filter. instead the phrases string themselves together as a shaking, stammering mess of anger, pain, and confusion, with a neat little sickness laced between the lines: ]

You, you, you died. You died, you... you died and you were gone. In a fire. I saw the flames, watched the orange paint the sky with your screams, you, you... [ eyes flick. rapidly. his head his wailing. his heart wails louder. ] You lied to me. [ and again, except his voice falters and breaks on a high-note halfway through: ] You lied to me. [ breathe. breathe. breathe and suck back breathe and try to find enough to fill the lungs and swim and paddle and drown and oh god there isn't enough air here there isn't enough anything here can't breathe can't think can't see can't understand need to understand can't can't ] I-I.... why? [ never mind the way his eyes cloud and chest heaves and something dangerously close to tears gathers at the red-rimmed corners of his eyes ] I just want to know why.

[socialitesabateure]

[It says something quite horrific about her life and her occupation that she actually has to stand and think for a moment as to the the associates and connections she kept the last time she'd faked her death in fire. Correction: Died in a fire while screaming, that cut down about two thirds of the instances. Normally she doesn't have to bother.

None of the names or faces from those instances click with this man's shuddering- and he's hunched and he's stammering as she tries to place him in the Dome. He's not a resident- her eyes narrow as her mental search flicks over to something else entirely. Databases and cameras and files flick and whirl behind too intent bionic eyes.

Graham, William. Previous Residence: Rapture. Known Associates:

She pales just so at that little line of text- though it times itself nicely with the accusation of lying. With the tears. It could be seen as an emotional response to what he's saying rather than the little fragment of Data that's bringing her world down. Whiskey has a double. Echo, Delta, Yankee- Alpha's face has been and gone so many times.

But this?

Known Associates: Adele LeBlanc.

Shit.

She falters, mask cracking into confusion as she files this all away and steps forward to steady him. Catch him. Not dangerous- not really. Not right now. And it's not safe for either of them to stay in this alley.]

Breathe. [That's the most important thing.] You need to breathe.