( 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

[countercyclical]

Ah, thanks. [And he's still wracking his brain as to what he knows her name from. He's better with faces, to tell the truth--if he'd seen her previously, he'd have made the connection.]

I take it you've been here a few times.

[socialitesabateure]

Quite a few. If you need a guide for the District one nightlife, I am your best bet. but! [She lifted a short trimmed and artfully painted finger.] I do not come cheap, mm?

[It's easy to be sweet and curious, to attempt to distract him with cleavage and lips and soft sweet words while she tries to place him.]

[countercyclical]

[Oh, he appreciates the cleavage and lips. And had his own suspicions not been raised earlier, he might be suitably distracted.]

What kinds of prices would we be talking about?

[socialitesabateure]

A few drinks, a few dances- dinner.

[She tilts her head just so, letting stray curls slide along her cheek, baring the pale column of her throat for his examination.]

And that is if you merely want the decent parties.

[countercyclical]

What if I want the best parties?

[socialitesabateure]

Then you're going to have to tell me a little bit more about yourself, Monsieur.

[She plucks up the olive and it's pick from his drink and sets her white teeth against the briny sphere, sliding it off before it vanishes behind her painted lips.]

Secrets for secrets.

[countercyclical]

Let's see. [He rests his arm against the bar, spinning the glass slowly between his fingertips.] I've never been outside the dome, though I'm a pretty good shot with a rifle. I watch a lot of action movies. I'm a fan of fine wine, good cigars and fast cars. And I appreciate the kind of evening gown that shows nothing while hinting at everything.

[socialitesabateure]

Mmmmhmmm?

[She leaned closer still, chin propped in her hand, eyes locked on every nuanced twitch of his expression. Some of that seemed applicable, some did not. She was still filtering through his face on every database available and there were a few flags here and there she needs to look into.]

I'll tell my seamstress you approve of her work.

[countercyclical]

[It's not often that he has that sense of being scanned by a woman--and while he's gotten long, searching looks by those trying to determine whether he was lying to them, something this subtle is different. It reminds him too much of himself.]

Please do. Though, that's only part of the package. Some of the credit's got to go to what's under the dress.

[socialitesabateure]

[The data archive finally gives her something useful. A few aliases, which didn't surprise her. Half the men in this room had a few, that wasn't worth looking into. No. It's the fact that there are a bunch of corrupted files attached to this face that has her surprised and intrigued.

The photos are half blurred or glitched entirely, textual data a garbled mess or deleted entirely. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to cover their tracks.

And then the one alias that DID stick out to her. Antonov. Oh now that's a familiar name. Pleased to have placed him she smiles and lets her fingers slip out, brushing along his hand.]

A Callsign is held to certain standards.

[countercyclical]

[He grins--an automatic reaction to a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Of course. How did he not make that connection?]

I can settle for a dance, if that's where you want to set the boundary.

[socialitesabateure]

We can start with a dance- then you can order me a drink. After that...well. We shall see where the night takes us, yes?

[She doesn't slide out of her chair so much as she pours from one coiled position to another, all grace and poise and slightly sharp edged in a predatory manner.]

[countercyclical]

[He takes a swig of his drink, partly to steel himself, and leads her by the hand onto the dance floor. Pulling her into a close embrace, he rests his palm against her back with a little more pressure than is strictly necessary, swaying to the music.]

You know, you have beautiful eyes.

[socialitesabateure]

[Close as she should be and she lets her hands rest oh so lightly along his shoulders, sliding up to twine her fingers at the nape of his neck. Fifteen different ways to snap a spine from this position and all of them horribly quick.

She grins and moves as bid. Innocent as anything.]

All the better to see you with, darling.

[countercyclical]

[He dips his head closer to hers, still grinning slightly.]

I'm kind of flattered, honestly. That someone of your caliber thinks I'm worth checking out.

[socialitesabateure]

I've already met everyone else here. They're boring.

[She tilts her head just so, leaning in enough at the height of a turn to let her lips barely brush across his.]

You are not.

[countercyclical]

Mmm. [He considers closing those few millimeters of distance, turning it into a full kiss, but decides against the idea.] Is that a compliment?

[socialitesabateure]

It could be. I'd hate to inflate your ego.

[Soft and sweet and slow, thumbs rubbing threatening little circles that could be affectionate along the nape of his neck, the fragile knob of his vertebrae.]

[countercyclical]

Ooh. Apparently I have an ego. [His voice is low and soft now, his fingers flexing beneath her shoulderblades.] And I'd bet you've decided I have a reputation.

[socialitesabateure]

Men like you always do.

[Whether she meant the ego or the reputation, well...]

[countercyclical]

What do you mean, 'men like me?'

[socialitesabateure]

Men with more than one name, Monsieur Antonov.

[countercyclical]

[He chuckles, winding a loose strand of her hair around his finger.] I have a lot of different interests. Helps to be multiple people.

[socialitesabateure]

[She huffs a soft laugh, turning into the next spin easily, pressing close.]

A finger in every pie, mm?

[countercyclical]

Better than the same old flavor day after day. [As he pulls her back in, he slides his hands lower, towards her hips.] And besides, I've always found it safer to spread out my bets.