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Sept/Oct Test Drive Meme

Alpha Complex Test Drive Meme

Please feel free to take a Test Drive to see if the environment would suit your character! All potential players are welcome.

It may be your first day in Alpha Complex or your hundredth, either way, you are in serious trouble.

Scenario One
Your character has been accused of treason!

Whether the accusation is true or not, you are a wanted citizen! Do you turn yourself over to IntSec (Internal Security) for questioning? Do you make a run for it and go AWOL? Will you fight for your right to exist or hole up somewhere safe until the chaos passes? Do you become The Fugitive and try to prove your innocence? Or are you guilty as hell and seeking help from friends or other parties who would be willing to assist you for a price?

Beware of the security cameras everywhere - some of which actually work - and being spotted by citizens who might be willing to turn you in to gain points with The Computer or to prove their own loyalty.

Scenario Two
Your character has been given the mission to hunt down a traitor!

It is your job to hunt down and apprehend the traitor by any means necessary. If you fail or refuse, you might be accused of being a traitor yourself. It doesn't matter if the person you are hunting is innocent or had good reasons for their treason. It doesn't matter if their crime was major or some minor form of treason, Friend Computer wants their head. You have twenty four hours to complete your mission.

Please post your character name and fandom in the subject line.
Work Together. Turn On Each Other. Survive.

Premise | Setting Information | New Arrival Introduction

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Zatanna growls to herself a little in an effort to bite her tongue when she feels a retort bubbling toward the surface. The fact that he thinks all she's going to get if she walks away is a warning makes her blood boil because nobody is that lucky in Alpha Complex. Not even Zatanna Zatara.

She's angry and distracted this entire situation, not just the boy with the name and the voice of a friend. Although, admittedly, he isn't making it any better, that's for sure. Zatanna's trying to think; trying to figure out a way for them to both get out of this in one piece and neither of them end up arrested or terminated or both, so she's ignoring him when she hears him talking, until she hears her name.

"What?!" she snaps, annoyed, in response to her name before realizing that...

...he used her name.

"Wait...Wally?"

"What's a—?" Zatanna starts to echo the question back at the girl only to cut herself off with another indignant huff. What's a superhero? That's a hell of a blow to Zee's ego if there ever was one. At this point in her life, it feels like superhero kind of defines her and she doesn't really...know how to describe it when she comes from a place where everyone just...already knows.

Her jaw hangs loosely open for a moment while she tries to formulate a response. "It's...kind of exactly what it sounds like? Heroes...but better? With...super powers?" she asks more than answers because she's never actually had to explain it before and that's sort of the best she can come up with at the moment.

"Good, I hope you do," Cisco says. She gets to her feet with his help and Cisco takes one more look around the corner to be sure. Still no guardbot. Here's to hoping that they've officially lost it.

Cisco takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff as if preparing himself and then he looks back at Gracie. "Ready? Because here goes nothing." And then, giving her hand a little squeeze but without letting go of her, Cisco takes off. The sooner they get to HQ, the better.

((ooc: we can keep going to get them to HQ if you want but this could be a good ftb too, so respond if you feel so inclined or else we can call it done, up to you!))

"I don't...know," came Elsa's lame reply. She touched her hands to her head and sat down on the floor, still out of sight of the security camera, and curled up into herself, bringing her knees up and holding them. She didn't know anything of this world. All she knew was that no one else from Arendelle was here, as far as she knew, and she was glad for that.

She also knew that she wanted to go home, turn the courtyard into an ice rink again, and skate around with her friends back home. She could feel a sniffle coming on and took a deep breath, remembering her father's words from long ago: Conceal, don't feel.

Wally's eyebrows practically rise into his hairline. "Oh, right, your butler, how could I not have guessed?" He can't help but sound amused because he is... Rob never acts like one of the snobby rich kids, to find out that he lives with so much wealth is genuinely shocking. Yeah, he has all the latest tech when it comes to his gear but so does Wally, Batman always pays for that kind of stuff. It makes sense that his son would get extra perks, though, now that Wally knows who they actually are.

"So new Rob is your brother," he clarifies aloud, one hand moving to mess up his own hair. "You guys are like some sort of super family, huh? That's cool though, that's like me and Uncle Barry! Just, you know, with more people." Batman, adopting kids and doing copious amounts of charity work. Who would have thought? ...Anyone, now that Wally is thinking about it. It makes so much sense that he's almost angry at himself for not seeing it earlier.

He visibly deflates when Robin says he isn't carrying any food, but his head perks back up a little at the mention of it being somewhere else. "...Well can we go?" He tosses his hands out a little, trying to curb his impatience and failing. "I'm dyin' here, if I don't get something in me soon I'm going to pass out. Is there a way to get there without anyone trying to shoot my head off? Because that would be sweet."

The second he hears her say his name, he knows that he's right. She knows his name anyway, he realizes, because she's been put on a mission to hunt him but that doesn't matter. He knows.

Wally takes the chance and walks out into the open, because the worst thing that'll happen is she'll shoot him if he's wrong and honestly, that's going to end up happening anyway at this rate. It's only then that he can see her and his footsteps freeze, staring at her in her jumpsuit with gun in hand. It's Zatanna. His teammate Zatanna, and to see her working for them, hunting someone - him - down for them, stabs so much deeper than it should. He knows she doesn't have a choice. His speed is gone, and her powers are probably gone too... she's killer with hand to hand combat but she hasn't been trained in that department as much as Wally probably has, and he's obviously struggling. This isn't what Zatanna chose. It's what they did to her, and that just makes him even angrier.

"Zatanna," he says her name again, the tension in his shoulders melting away as he starts to move toward her, and before she can stop him he's embracing her tightly with his head in her shoulder and his fingers twisting in the back of her jumpsuit. He releases her after a few lingering moments only to frown down at her, giving her a once over in her current outfit and he manages to give a weak smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"You look good in red?"

The assignment, she had been told, was simple. Find those charged with treason and make sure they were brought in by any means necessary. And they're right, the hunt is easy; Allison knows how to track and hunt like a pro despite her age, and the computer wants those skills to be put to use for this.

What isn't easy is understanding why. Why are those people considered traitors? Why does she have to hunt them down? What had they done? This wouldn't be the first time that she goes into a situation blind, but it was supposed to be different now. She's not who she was back when she was first dragged to fulfill her family legacy, and she can't help but wonder the why behind it all as she loads up on ammunition.

She's not supposed to ask, though. She's supposed to do her job, and she knows every time she hesitates she inches closer and closer to the 'traitor' side of the list. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, if it wasn't for the fact that she's trying to stay on the Computer's good graces because she's trying to find her friends. To make sure they're safe, to find a way to protect them if they aren't.

When she comes across the next target on her list, Allison keeps her distance. For a moment she's able to tail him, it allows her the opportunity to even think that she can just tase him and drag him in, but he slips away easily before she can even make her presence known. Locating him again is hard, he's like a moving shadow that always seems to be three steps ahead of her, but still. She tries, and it's in an alley that she finally makes her presence known as she herself steps out of her own shadow.

Except, as she looks at him, she can't help but wonder if she really is the one that is cornering him or if he's the one that purposely let her catch up to him. Is it her game or his? She's out of her league with this target, and deep down she knows it, but the fierce determination is there nonetheless. She keeps a firm grip on the taser gun at her side, but it's hard to figure out if she's doing it more out of protection or because she's planning on using it right now.

"Are you James Barnes?"

Why is always the one question that gets people into trouble. Why demands accountability. Why am I doing this? Why am I tracking down this person? Why am I killing them? Is it for the greater good? Or something less noble? Whose hand is directing my actions?

Bucky can't answer any of those questions. All he can do is stay one or two steps ahead of the troubleshooters, learning his way around the city street by street. Block by block. Until he knows the layout. It's not entirely unlike New York, in that there is a plan, a deliberateness to how the place works. It's his job to find all the little imperfections, mark them down so people with better strategy can use the information.

He can't do that when he's being followed, though. The assassin hesitates just long enough to memorize the face of his shadow before doing what he does best these days - seemingly disappearing into thin air. It's a culmination of brutal training tactics, and he was already good at remembering things before the serum ever touched his veins.

The girl is good, better than she should be if her youth is anything to go by. Not that Bucky can talk about looking young. (With a straight face, anyway.) He lets her flail around for a while, noting how fast she can pick up a trail with just a hint of cooperation from the target, and how long it takes her to find anything he's left behind all on her own. Eventually, though, his curiosity gets the better of him. If she manages to bring him in, nothing on him will lead back to the others. Especially if the computer tries to wipe him. He steps out into the mouth of an alley, deliberately seen, and waits for her to catch up.

He may not have super soldier reflexes right now, but the Winter Soldier is still pretty damn fast, and he's banking on getting to the taser before she can effectively use it on him.

"Depends. Who's asking?"

No, he's not looking to hurt her. Not this time. It's enough that she's sticking her neck out for him - that moment of indecision, that hesitation back in the corridor. Natasha had ample time to corner him for the police, but she chose to help him instead. It's not something he plans to forget. Or leave unrepaid.

"I have everything to apologize for," he mutters almost under his breath, but the tone of voice is tinged with something close to resignation. Yes, he's heard that before. Recently, in fact, from a guy with a heart that's still too big for his body. If he has a problem believing it from Captain Fucking America, stands to reason that the Widow trying to tell him the same thing isn't going to have miraculous consequences. But at least he's listening. "James was my father. It feels -- weird, I guess, having someone outside the family use it."

His mother, his sisters, even Steve on occasion. But he's been Bucky for so long - and no one at all for even longer - that being addressed in such a manner is fairly unsettling. He shifts, allowing his shoulders to slump down further against the wall, and tilts his head. A part of him is primed and ready to move, but most of Bucky's attention is now focused on Natasha.

"I've slept on worse things than the ground." Corner of his mouth lifts briefly. "It's your call, Widow. Having a weapon or two would make the sleeping a little easier, though."

Edited 2016-09-08 15:18 (UTC)

"Stop thinking about it like that." Natasha replies with a surprising amount of firmness in her voice paired with a vague shake of her head. "Believe me, apologies won't get you anywhere. The people that you feel like you need to apologize to aren't going to listen. The ones who understand why it happened aren't going to need you to apologize in the first place." Natasha glanced over at Bucky for a lingering moment, as if trying to read him before she continued with sincerity. "The only thing we can do is try to make up for it. Some of us are better at that than others, but it's all we have. All you can do is try to wipe the red out of your ledger. You might never get there. I haven't." She gave a single shouldered shrug, and there's effort put into keeping her tone even and dismissive. "But you keep trying. It's all we've got."

Natasha manages to give another crooked half smile before she reassures him. "Don't worry, I'll stick with Bucky. I was never sentimental when it came to names." Probably because she's had so many over the course of her short life. It's when she sees the corners of his mouth twitch that Natasha huffs a quiet laugh of amusement. "Was that almost a smile? I'm doing better than I thought. We're going to need to find our way Free Enterprise for that, it's the black market here." She runs her fingers through her hair with a sigh. "I left my blaster on that building we jumped onto, they can track it. I have enough credits to get both of us a decent gun, clothes. Food. After that we can figure out what to do, I have some connections, favors owed. We'll be alright. It'll be rocky but it'll be alright. Hey."

Natasha shifts her foot a little to tap the side of his boot and get his attention until he looks at her. "I'm not going to let them find you. I'd rather live in a warehouse and dismantle them from the inside out than do that, alright? We're going to be fine. They don't know what we're capable of, and that's our advantage. A valuable one."

"Oh-" And then just complete silence for one, two, three seconds before: "Oh my god. I didn't think you'd actually pick up." The voice on the line is a woman's, and she's clearly a little flustered at the moment.

"Is this ... James?" Said like she had to find his name in a list, and then just read whatever the first word was off that line on the page. "My name is Felicity Smoak. I know we've never met, but I can help you."

He can hear her typing, frantically, on her keyboard. "You're in the NE section of Armed Services. That's actually kind of terrible." Frack she said that out loud. "But if you can take a left at the next intersection, open the first door on your right. It should be unlocked."

Her directions, if he chose to follow them, should lead him to an empty maintenance closet.

There's silence on his end for a moment, followed by a low snort of -- something close to laughter. If you blend film noir with a bag of nails and aged whiskey.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do with phones?" He looks around casually, noting visibly cameras in the hallway he's currently loitering. "Yeah, I ... James'll do."

God this is bizarre. Like one of those science fiction movies people keep telling him to watch. Or fantasy, like the little guy who takes on a dragon with a wizard. Or the little girl who kills a witch with water. He's been informed those are just glitches, but they seem real. Maybe that's why he's a traitor. (Or the rules. He read those.)

"Okay, Felicity Smoak. I hope you're not leading me into a trap." Because neither of them will enjoy that. But he follows directions, because why not. And she sounds cute. (Never let it be said he didn't do as a dame asked.) When he makes it to said door, and slips inside, the whole 'trap' part sounds more plausible than it might have a few minutes before. "Am I just supposed to wait here and get caught, lady?"

As far as plans go, that one sucks.

"I'm Allison."

She can hear her mother in her ear - Does it matter what your name is? What are you waiting for? - but Allison tries to ignore it. It's a glitch, according to the Computer, but she knows it's more than that. It's impossible not to, especially when she unconsciously tightens her hold on the taser.

Still, she doesn't move. Not yet. Right now it's hard to tell who's the predator and who's the hunter, and she doesn't want to make a sudden movement that won't get her the results that she needs.

"How long have you been running for?" It's asked almost conversationally, as if she doesn't have a taser ready to go, but she really is curious. He's too good at it for her not to ask.

"Not long enough, apparently."

God, she is so young. He wants to say teenager, but people aren't always the age they look, and this could be one of those moments. She could be near his own age. Older maybe. Or she could be a proverbial babe in the woods. Without certain abilities, it's harder to tell.

"So, Allison. How long have you been hunting?"

Obviously he means doing this, tracking down people deemed traitor, but who knows. He could be reading something more in her stance.

Derek sympathized with her, there was no doubt there. If he was in her position right now instead, he'd probably be fighting back the only way he knew how: brute force. Even then, it'd be weak at best because he wasn't a werewolf here. He wanted that part of himself back more than he could stand to think about, but there was no end to this human side in sight.

Frowning, Derek lowered himself into a crouch beside her. "Listen...it can't be that bad. Whatever you did, if you can't even remember doing it, it can't be that bad. Maybe your punishment will be really easy. Or maybe...if you come back with me and I tell them that you didn't resist, they'll lighten it, I don't know…"

He's not really expecting — or looking — for conversation when he sits down beside the girl dressed in the same ugly red jumpsuit he's wearing, her hair pulled to the side in a braid. It's just that the seating in the commissary is both very much divided by color and fit to burst; they're practically packed in like sardines.

Accusations of treason fly through this place with more consistency than literally anything else he's observed to this point, so it doesn't surprise him that there's a list of accused traitors that morning, not unlike every other morning. He severely doubts that anything ever comes of most of those accusations, though.

When he hears her speak up from his left, Derek turns his head to look at her, more than a little glad to have a legitimate distraction from the slop in front of him which is pretending to be food. He gives her a sympathetic smile. "Hey...I'm willing to be most people on that list aren't traitors. If no one has proof, you're good. I wouldn't let it worry you too much. Looking at someone the wrong way is treasonous, but hard as hell to prove. You'll be all right."

When he moves out into the light, Zatanna's breath catches because it is the Wally she knows. Oh God, she was totally ready to turn in Kid Flash...she's the actually worst! Immediately, she holsters the laser gun; he's obviously not a threat to her safety.

To her credit, Zee doesn't even try to stop him. In fact, she's about to try to meet him halfway, but he beats her to the punch. Zatanna wraps her arms around him and she's squeezing him back, tucking her head against his and closing her eyes as she feels him clinging to her, fingers curling into the extra fabric of her jumpsuit.

When he pulls back, she lets him even though she doesn't want to. A watery laugh escapes her at his comment and she shakes her head. "I look awful, shut up."

"Hm, I wouldn't say that."

He's not wrong, she really is too young to be doing this. To know what to look for when hunting, to look like a soldier ready to strike. She's barely eighteen years old, but there's a darkness in her eyes that contradicts her age altogether. Allison no longer knows what it's like to be just a regular teenager - she probably wouldn't even be able to fake it at this point. Whatever innocence remained in her disappeared lifetimes ago, and now she's a hunter, a solder in her own right.

His question about hunting makes a small smile cross her lips, mainly because he really is onto something there. "Long enough, but I guess not enough, either. Guess we have something in common." She watches him, as if waiting to see if he's going to run, but the words slip out without even thinking about the question.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

"You didn't."

Exact words and all. Bucky's chin lifts, not in a demonstratively defiant manner, but enough to suggest that if she does attempt to take him in, he's not going to go quietly. No, he's going to take Dylan's words to heart and rage as much as he can. Go down swinging. It's something he promised himself recently.

"If I had to guess, it'd be because you're a flunky of the system."

That's another thing he's discovered; a new penchant for brave words in the face of danger. Nowhere near as inspiring or straight up courageous as Steve, but just enough to get him into trouble. Which he's already in by running, so hey. Why not make it worse.

"Am I right? Do I get a cookie?"

Edited 2016-09-09 04:34 (UTC)

Cora's not sure if the blonde is nuts or if she's trying to play some sort of trick, even if it seems to be a relatively lame one. Cora's not falling for anything, though. She's in a precarious situation and she has to take precautions, she's always been that way...at least since the fire. God, she can't even figure out if that fire is real. So, why the hell is she feeling ready to bolt with even the smallest thing that the blonde could do? Because she's broken. And that makes her angry. The cloning process obviously got fucked up this time around because he memories are so...ridiculous and yet integral to the decisions that she makes....Cora legitimately can't figure out what she should do right now.

Every fiber of her being wants to run, to hide, and to save herself. The part of her that heard x many of times that the glitches aren't real is frozen and uncertain in what the fuck she should do next. It's a shitty feeling, and probably the only reason that Cora hasn't actually left the blonde in her dust.

Syndey Bristow is a glitch? Cora doesn't know what the hell that means. She chooses, for the moment, just to watch the other girl. Cameras aren't hard to notice and it only makes Cora shift a little more downward, for fear that others might be on their way at this very moment. Why hasn't she just taken off? If she's honest...she knows it's because she's scared and needs to figure out something, even if she'd never admit that to someone else.

"Yeah, hunting me down is really helpful." Cora grounds out, sarcasm dripping from her tone. It's not easy to see being hunted as helpful for the young woman. Cora adjusts her grip on the ladder she's hanging onto, tilting her head. Trust doesn't come easy for her, in fact, it's one of the hardest things for Cora. That's why she's not surrounded by friends and a social butterfly. She's an asshole who doesn't trust other people, but there's something about the phrasing of the blonde. Furrowing her brows, Cora can't help but spit out her questions. "How do you want to help? What the hell is going to happen to me?"

That's the most important thing. Cora doesn't want to have anything happen to her. She's got a sense of self-preservation and stupid questions about books...don't help with the girl's already wavering patience.

"Of course I read books." Cora responds, automatically, only to have a moment of confusion follow. God, the glitches shit is confusing. Spoon and a poster in prison? Cora looks up, one eyebrow lifting. Is she for real? "And how do I know you're not lying, that you mean that?" Cora feels frustrated. IF her glitches were real, if she weren't confused and angry and if she had her control and her abilities...she'd just be able to smell if it were the truth.

God, this is confusing!

The target had been outlined to her, and Allison had set out on a hunt like the good soldier that she was. Don't get her wrong, she hated answering to a machine, of all things, but she knew that she needed to do this. To be able to look for her friends, to try and figure out if they were part of the list of traitors the Computer was after. Because, if it was, she was ready and willing to become a traitor for them and just get them to safety.

Unluckily for Rachel, she was not part of the list of people that Allison was willing o make that sacrifice for. She was assigned to a job and, as such, she was doing what she could to complete it. It was just a necessary evil, until she found out what she needed to know.

When she noticed her target rounded the corner, Allison slowed her walk. She had been following from a distance, trying to get a feel for the type of person she was going to corner and assess the overall situation, but she also didn't want to give herself away just yet.

So, for now, she just followed. Lurking, getting ready to leap.

Allison Argent wasn't a predator, but she was definitely a hunter.

She can't help it; when he calls her a flunky, it makes something inside of her recoil. She's an Argent. She's a leader. She's no one's flunky, and just the implication alone is enough to make her want to point out that he's wrong.

At the same time, though, she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of her even if she's not so successful at that. Her lips twitch into a sort of smile, but it's almost strained. Defiant, in her own way.

"I'm all out of cookies." She pauses, but it doesn't last long. "What did you do, to land in the traitor list?"

She herself is toying with that line just by delaying all this, but she has come this far. She has to ask.

Running isn't something that Allison is proud of doing, but she still finds herself doing just that. Her name has made it onto the list of traitors, and if there's one thing she hates more than running is defeat. She refuses to let someone drag her in for whatever punishment awaits her and, while she knows that will just make the situation worse, she doesn't care.

She's not going down easily. She's an Argent. She's the hunter. She refuses to lose.

Coming across things that she could use as weapons is hard, but she uses scraps that she finds to make spears. They're simple and probably won't do much damage against the weapons that those assigned to hunt down the traitors are given, but it's something, and that's what she focuses on. She refuses to be out there without something to use if needed, and she keeps that knowledge to assure herself that maybe she has a shot. Maybe she can find a way to at least lay low long enough for this to pass and she can figure out something else.

Time doesn't seem to be on her side, though, when she hears footsteps walking in her direction as she hides in a secluded section of the waterfront. It was late, and she had figured she would be able to look for more scraps that she could use to make weapons, but...apparently she had been overly confident in that.

But, she doesn't run this time. Instead, she grabs one of the spears she had built and stands silently as she prepares for whoever it is that has found her. Part of her is hoping that whoever it is out there will keep walking and not even notice that she's hiding in the shadows, but she's ready either way.

She knows the mission — its parameters, the tools she needs, how she'll carry it out. It's a standard, simple directive; twenty-four hours to bring in a traitor, no exceptions, extensions, or questions. Nothing her skill level isn't up for.

It doesn't feel right.

There's a lot of that going around lately. Despite assurances that the glitches would be temporary, they've stuck with her, hints of a whole other life that may or may not exist proliferating her dreams and dogging her waking hours, creating uncertainty at every turn. But this — this is different. It doesn't feel right in a way that's definitive, in a way that tells her she knows she's been in this situation before, glitch or not. Orders versus intuition, and one side is a clear winner.

Risk. Sharon feels the word settle into her bones before it clicks in her mind, and the only decision comes a split-second later. There's a lot at stake if she operates one step outside of the confines of her orders — her access to whatever information she may manage to gather, maybe even her own life — but she won't be responsible for doling out the punishment when she doesn't even really know the crime. Her steps are steady, certain, as she tracks, then approaches, her target in the sewers, and even as she's on the precipice of making one of the most dangerous moves she possibly could, hesitation is a far-distant thought.

"Wait." Her voice is just loud enough to get attention, firm but calm. She lowers her laser gun before she speaks again. "There may be another way."

one

Well. Not the most auspicious start. Though, really, not the worst start. That probably says more about his life than anything else possibly could. Waking up in a strange sterile room with no idea how he ended up there in the first place, kind of par for the course. They never just want to talk, things are almost always as bad a they seem, and pain is a guarantee. Just because he can't stay dead doesn't mean he's eager to go through the process.

At least this time he didn't wake up naked. So, yeah, not the worst. Which is a thought for a time when he's not running blindly down endless identical corridors and doing his level best to avoid... well, not knowing where he is means he doesn't really know who he's trying to avoid. Everyone? Everyone sounds good, for the moment. There must be a place to hide in a complex this large. Ventilation, sewers, maintenance corridors - what he wouldn't give for a map right about now.

two

Jack doesn't feel that great about being a giant corrupted computer's bitch. Though it is better than being on its bad side. He's learned that one the hard way more times than he'd care to count. The easiest way to take down an oppressive regime is from the inside. The food's also better. He's still trying to figure out the game, but in the mean time, it's clearly in his best interest to play along. A hell of a lot less lonely than being on the run, too. Being on the run doesn't involve a mission partner. "I suppose this is pretty common place for you?"

[[OOC: Please forgive any inconsistencies with the actual game setting and procedure. It's been a while since Jack's been in a game. I'm shaking some dust off.]]

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Sept/Oct Test Drive Meme

Alpha Complex Test Drive Meme

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Allison Argent | Teen Wolf

sharon carter | mcu

Jack harkness | dw / tw