InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Wacka day! No school today!"

Krystle Harrison (omggirlonthenet) wrote in memebells,
@ 2012-02-18 01:23:00

Entry tags:

[rated] nc17, [rated] pg-13, [rated] r, [type] characterization, [type] choices, [type] dark, [type] secrets, [type] serious, [warning] possible triggers

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
The Cyberpunk Meme

Welcome to the future. Unfortunately, it's not all it's cracked up to be. The very definition of the term cyberpunk is "high tech, low life." These are worlds defined by poverty or absolute control, where the net is your only escape from the troubles of the world. Cyborgs, metahumans, AIs, corporations with undisputed power are what's being served out here. Do you have what it takes to survive?

To get started, you can create a scenario for yourself, or merely go to the Random Number Generator and choose a pre-made one for you and your partner.

1. You or your partner (or both) is a hacker who just stumbled across the biggest information leak of your lives. This could make or break the two of you, if you know how to handle the consequences of your following action.

2. In the real world, people wouldn't waste their spit on scum like you. But in the net? You're a god, peddling information and resources better than Wal-Mart. Just be careful who you talk to. Not everyone thinks what you do is a good thing.

3. The corporations, the government, the gangs, the machines. It doesn't matter who it is, but you're tired of their interference in your life. Are the two of you ready to take them on?

4. You're the king or queen of your private enterprise. You have it all: A private army, AIs capable of placating the masses, connections even better than the government, and a demeanor that could charm Satan himself. However, there's still that little nuisance known as the underdog, and they're knocking at your door.

5. You just got that newest drug shipment in, and it promises to be the biggest trip in your life. It promises to make you stronger, faster, smarter, and sexier, all in one hit. The only thing left is to try it.

6. People are disappearing, and no one seems to notice or care, except you and your partner. The only thing? They're also your worst enemy.

7. You've just been kidnapped, and unfortunately, your partner's the kidnapper. What's their motive? Can you escape?

Anything I forgot, go ahead and play it. Make your own world, your own personalities. Have fun!

[Snagged from AegisDetective on LJ]

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	Tardis (Dr. Who) 1st_companion 2012-02-18 09:34 am UTC (link)
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	Thela (Tron: Legacy OC) 1st_program 2012-02-18 09:35 am UTC (link)
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Apollo (Inception OC) - 2

apollodreaming
2012-02-18 09:37 am UTC (link)

Apollo had been born of children of the cyber age, and it showed. He'd learned how to use a deck and a speed-board almost before he could walk, and he'd been jacking in almost as long.

He was an information jockey, a console cowboy, and he was a good one. He was also a member of Radical Honesty, which was part of why he did what he did, he believed that information should be free and resources evenly distributed. He sipped at his coffee, gaze roaming over his console in much the same way that most people would look at a lover. Gulping down the last of his drink he settled, stretching his fingers before plugging himself in with a murmured: "What've you got for me today?"

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Boomer (Tron: Legacy OC) - 6

boomersecurity
2012-02-18 09:38 am UTC (link)

People had been going missing, he'd noticed that, it was his job as system security to notice things like that, so far everyone who'd turned up missing were Lo-Teks, people who'd been living off the grid, on the streets. Not everyone living on the streets was lowlife scum, some of them, most of them, were just good people with bad circumstances.

When he brought his concerns to his superiors was told that he was wrong, or worse: that it didn't concern him and he should leave it alone. That was the one that worried him, made him wonder how long this had been going on and how many other people had found out about it and been summarily vanished.

He knew who else might know, or at least have noticed, and that was what had driven him to the Under City today, seeking out the one known as Top Dollar.

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	Charles Xavier \| XMFC calmestmind 2012-02-18 09:40 am UTC (link)
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	Dolly (Tron: Legacy OC) dollyoftheeol 2012-02-18 09:41 am UTC (link)
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	Arthur (Inception) - 5 loadedreminder 2012-02-18 09:42 am UTC (link)
	Arthur had just received the newest batch of Somnacin from The Chemist, who assured him that it was safe, but, frankly, Arthur didn't trust the man, which was why he'd posted notices looking for guinea pigs. He knew that there was always someone out there willing to test the next big thing, all he had to do was sit back and wait. (Reply to this) (Thread)

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	Arthur Bishop (The Mechanic) exmechanic 2012-02-18 09:43 am UTC (link)
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Anne Bonney (Pirate) - 2

foughtlikeaman
2012-02-18 09:44 am UTC (link)

Anne, or Andrew, as she occasionally called herself, depending on the social circle, was a pirate, and proud of it. She had always felt that wealth, be it goods or information, should be placed where it was needed most, and not just held by the upper percentile.

She'd been called many things in her time, Socialist, Communist, Freedom Fighter and Harlot. She'd worn each of those titles proudly for a time, but always came back to Pirate, it was a good catch-all title, and she liked it.

Right at that moment she was tracking a shipment of medical supplies that had been destined for one of the government chop shops, but that had been quietly redirected to one of her distributors who would make sure it got to the people who needed it.

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Adelia Van Helsing | OC | 4

i_haz_a_raven
2012-02-18 09:46 am UTC (link)

Adelia was a daughter of the revolution, so to speak. Her family had been on the leading edge of most technological, and some biological advances of the past few decades, which left her in a position of power, wealth, and no small amount of fame.

She was also something of a recluse, no one had seen her in public or in person for the past three years. She still attended political and fund-raising functions by video conference, which left rumors flying, that she was dead and had been for years, that she'd never actually existed. Some people may even have guessed at the truth: that she was a veritable prisoner in her own home.

She was the last of the Van Helsing line, and the family wanted to keep her safe until they found an eligible bachelor, someone worthy of carrying on the line.

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	Erik Lensherr (X-Men First Class) serene_rage 2012-02-18 09:48 am UTC (link)
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	Henry Stillman (X-Men OC) henri_with_a_y 2012-02-18 10:59 am UTC (link)
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	Zepar (Fallen angel) hurtyourealgood 2012-02-18 11:00 am UTC (link)
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	Aadi (Tron: Legacy OC) isoartist 2012-02-18 11:01 am UTC (link)
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Lonnie Chandler (Jumper OC) - 2

imajumper
2012-02-18 01:21 pm UTC (link)

They called her a Jumper because she seemed to be at any place at any time, sometimes multiple locations at once, though no one had yet been able to pin down where she was in real-space. And that was the way she liked it. It was how she'd survived as long as she had.

Lonnie was in the business of losing things. From flash drives to shipping containers, for the right price she could make sure they stayed lost, or that they got back to where they were supposed to be. She didn't play favorites, she just played who would pay her the most and who was least likely to try and track her down.

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	Roberta Fischer (Rule 63 Robert Fischer - Inception) insuredfor10mil 2012-02-18 01:22 pm UTC (link)
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	Betty Winchester (Supernatural demi-OC) lady_metallicar 2012-02-18 01:23 pm UTC (link)
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	Viveca Miller (Sinspawn) letsthemeat 2012-02-18 01:23 pm UTC (link)
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Lucy Weaver | OC | 6

lucky_no_7
2012-02-18 01:25 pm UTC (link)

Lucy was good at pattern recognition, she always had been, especially as totally wired-in as she was. She'd been a test subject, and the test had been successful, perhaps too successful. Thanks to the bio-electric wetware that had been implanted, installed, into her she was aware of anything and everything that was connected to the web. A lone node of wireless connectivity in a vast sea of it.

But it was because of this that she'd noticed the disappearances. It bothered her that she never saw when, or how, just saw the gaps that were left behind, holes where there had once been whole people. What bothered her more was that she couldn't see where, they never cropped up anywhere else on the grid.

She knew of one other person who might have noticed, one other person who might be able to help. The problem was that she hadn't contacted them since the project had been disbanded, and they hadn't parted on good terms, not even remotely.

She sent a message anyway: People are missing. There are gaps in the code, holes in the matrix. I'm not asking for myself, I'm asking for them. Do you know anything about it? She didn't leave her name, but instead her digital signature, a single digit: 7 glowing faintly blue-white.

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Gabreel King (OC) 2ish

malecompanion
2012-02-18 01:26 pm UTC (link)

There was always someone out there who wanted to buy something, goods, services, information, and Gabreel had dealt in all of the above. Though most often he dealt in a particular, narrow line of services. The kind of thing that hadn't gone the way of the dodo so much as the way of all flesh. It wasn't gone, just hidden, and people who needed it knew where to look.
He sipped at his tea as he fired up his computer to check on any appointments that day.

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Eames (Inception) - 7

neededforger
2012-02-18 01:27 pm UTC (link)

His mouth, he realized, tasted like copper and grit, which meant that he'd hit the floor at some point and had either bitten his tongue or his cheek. He slowly took stock of limbs and digits, both arms, both legs, all of his fingers and toes as far as he could tell, though his wrists were bound behind him, and he was either blindfolded or had a bag over his head.

His tongue didn't feel swollen, which boded well for not having bitten it, and the fact that his own breathing wasn't stifling pointed more to blindfold than to black bag, another good sign, he was hoping.

That was when the smell of the place really hit him, sterile and disinfectant-y. But not enough to completely cover the smell of meat. Fuck, a chop-shop, harvesting and selling organs by the pound. There had to be a way to get out of this one.

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Karl | FreakAngels | 3

notraisedbytv
2012-02-18 01:29 pm UTC (link)

Karl had always been Lo-Tek and proud. Living off the land, what little of it there was in a towering city of neon and chrome. He'd scraped together a rooftop garden some time ago, collecting rainwater and condensation to water the plants.

The place was nigh inaccessible, at least to city-dwellers, people more used to wide safe walkways than narrow catwalks made out of plywood and girders, scrap steel. Though he was well-hidden from prying eyes, most of the 'Teks knew how to contact him if they needed anything.

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Katniss Everdeen | Hunger Games | 7

not_catnip
2012-02-18 03:02 pm UTC (link)

She woke with a start, coughing raggedly, still tasting smoke. Sector 13 was nothing but a distant memory now, there had been a raid, she remembered that much, she remembered a few of them getting out, she thought she'd gotten out before everything went dark, so she couldn't be sure if anyone had actually escaped or not. She hoped so.

She coughed again, turning her head to spit, tasting blood under the char on her tongue. She didn't have to question why she was still alive. She might not have been a rebel leader, but she was definitely their figurehead. Someone was going to want to make an example of her, or ransom her off, if there were any other survivors. Neither option sounded like a good one to her, but until she knew where she was and who was holding her, she'd have to bide her time.

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	Rob Fellows (Cal Leandros series) not_w_loman 2012-02-18 03:03 pm UTC (link)
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Quorra (Tron: Legacy) - 1

quorrious
2012-02-18 03:06 pm UTC (link)

Quorra occasionally claimed to be the internet. She had a permanent neural uplink, wetware that allowed her to jack in no matter where she happened to be, indoors or out, she was her own wireless hotspot.

Right at that moment she was perched in the corner of a railing and a windowledge, one of her usual cat-like places, her fingers almost a blur in front of her, dashing codes and encryptions out on keyboards that only she could see. Her eyes were focused on some middle-distance, one or the other or both shifting focus now and again, or flaring blue-white as she worked.

Her expression was shifting in minute increments from its usual blank to a slowly-dawning panic.

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