the cyberpunk au meme

[shocksock]

The Cyberpunk AU Meme 3.0 [OPEN BETA]

Welcome to the future. Please abandon all hopes and dreams after this point, for the very definition of the term cyberpunk is "high tech, low life". The idea behind cyberpunk comes from the thought that as technology advances, so broadens the gap between social status, where becoming middle class is an achievement and anyone wanting to become anything higher suffers from pipe dreams. This life is pain, where the only person you can really trust is yourself.


These are worlds defined by poverty or absolute control, where the net is your only escape from the troubles of the world. Cyborgs, meta-humans, AI, and 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, or you can even leave your comment blank and let respondents pick.


Possible roles
>The office drone: You're no one special. Day in and day out, you punch into work. You're unaware, or at least uncaring, of how shitty life around you is because at least the fistful of dollars you get keeps you from being on the streets.
>Deprogrammed: Similar to above, but a set of circumstances has made you realize just how blind you are. You don't have the savvy others may have but you have the determination to see your goals out until the bitter end. Or at least until your enemies make you a better offer.
>The muscle: You have a specific set of skills that are in high demand. Be it assassin or head-basher, you're rarely out of a job.
>Tech support: You have a way with computers that would make ABC agencies cry. Big people rely on you while even bigger ones are trying to get their hands on you.
>The talking head: Your district, your city, or your country knows you well. You're the face of propaganda, and boy, can you weave it! You're kept comfortable by the masters that feed you, though the days may be difficult as you see more and more injustices enacted.
>The Street tough: You're the lowest of the low. Life has given up on you, though you keep fighting on. You're the dealer, the gangster, the informant, the thief, and more. You know all the short cuts and the best ways to cause a stir.
>The fish out of water: Through experimentation, creation, or other factors, you've found yourself in this brave new world with no support to lean on. You need to understand the way things are if you're to survive long.
>The Hard-luck hero: Can be any of the above, though circumstance or sheer force of will has kept you from straying away from doing what's right.
>The Antagonist: Board member of a mega-corporation? G-Man with the need to stay in Power? Religious fanatic with an extremist bent? The background matters not. What does matter is that if you aren't the problem, you certainly benefit from perpetuating it.

There are so many more possible roles, so don't let this list limit you! If you think it could fit, play it out!

Prompts
>Deep Throat: One (or both) of you have managed to stumble across information that could change the way the world around you works. This could make or break the two of you, if you know how to handle the consequences of your following actions.

>The Hook Up: 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.

>Take a Stand: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?

>Thorns In My Side: 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.

>What You Need is a Gramme...: 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.

>The Patchwork Man: 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.

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

>Voight-Kampff: Your job is to track down and 'retire' human-like bioengineered androids who have gone rogue. Sounds simple enough, right? Not when your targets are as intelligent as any human, or more. Not only that, they are stronger, almost indistinguishable from humans in appearance. So much so it's possible one could be one and not realize it...

>Be More Human: You're a cop, a gumshoe or someone else dealing with law enforcement, a dangerous job to do alone. Good thing you have a partner, right? Only one problem, they're an android. Robots who can think and feel are a thing now, and what's more, some are starting to think they should have all the rights humans have. Whether you agree or not, you two are stuck together.

>FUCK Society: As the internet grows more advanced, so does inter-connectivity to the point whole cities are now monitored by powerful operating systems that govern all aspects of city life. You are a hacker that is out to fight the megacorps, while seeking revenge against the criminal element.

>This is the Construct: You're not just a cog in the machine, you are literally inside the machine itself, either raised from birth or a visitor (willing or unwilling) to this digital realm. Can you bend reality to your will as a User, maybe even The One, or are you a Program of the system, out to help or hinder the hero's mission? What are you supposed to do? Survive.

Comments

[heretic_monk]

[While the subject spoke, Nii lit another cigarette and propped his cheek on his palm. Same old boring adultery story by insects who never bothered breaking out of the miserable patterns of their daily lives, and it wouldn't be surprising if the husband and wife escalated that domestic situation into something with broken dishes, overturned tables, and a bruise or several.

To begin with, this was the sort of industry that attracted those with the need to dominate spaces and smaller fish, never realizing their own insignificance in the vast emptiness of the universe.

If anything - it was the subject's scrambling to justify his actions that was the punchline, and Nii flicked his cigarette on the ashtray.]

Into MILFs. Check.

Next?

[inappropriatelaughter]

N—?

[ He glanced over his shoulder, startled, as if someone might be waiting in the doorway. He needed this job, and as much as he genuinely believed it wasn't a situation he could've avoided, it wouldn't have surprised him if just talking about it ended the interview.

But there wasn't anyone standing there. He turned back, eyeing the cigarette. ]

Next what? Worst...work thing?

[heretic_monk]

Mmm.

[The rabbit head of his pen, he clicked on his clipboard once. Twice. Did he sound like he was about to fall asleep? A lazy sip of coffee, followed by a puff of cigarette.]

What you just told me is just the tip of the iceberg in town. [He pointed downwards: this building had other floors, and an expansive basement only accessible to him and two others. If the subject took this metaphorically, that was just fine.] You see, this isn't a job to have a weak stomach in. We have clients with rather... particular tastes.

[Nii tipped his head, gaze inscrutable from the reflection of fluorescent on his glasses.]

You with me so far?

[inappropriatelaughter]

[ It took him a second, conspicuously silent, to convince himself to ignore the renewed uneasy feeling settling in his ribs somewhere. ]

Yeah. [ He licked his lips. ] Yeah, I get it. I mean, whatever you need, I'm good. I definitely don't have a weak stomach. [ Probably, for most things. He flashed a quick grin. ] I don't have weak anything, man, that's why I do this job. [ HA...ha............ ]

[heretic_monk]

No? You haven't stayed long in any job. How sure am I you aren't squeamish if, oh, say, you encounter our sanitation unit?

[Nii pushed his glasses up his nose. Unofficially, the organic remains of those who underwent the conversion process were retained in the facility for further testing, though no one needed to know that.]

Not to mention the pile of maintenance requests.

[A test to see if the subject understood the reference: if a cyborg got rough, bodies went splat, and someone had to clean out the gunk after making sure the mechanized parts were still functional.

Not everyone who showed up was fully intact.]

[inappropriatelaughter]

[ He'd seen less than he wanted the man to think, but it was still enough to catch what he was vaguely referring to. The grin slipped off his face. He sat up straighter, planting his hands on the edge of the desk. ]

I dunno how to make you believe it, but it's not like I was sittin' in a hot tub with some guy's wife the whole time I had those jobs. And before that— [ He paused, chewing his lip— ] I mean, shit happens. I know. I can handle it, I swear.

[heretic_monk]

[Nii made a show of considering that statement, leaning back in his chair and scratching his chin. Right, he forgot to shave again.]

Can you, now. We'll just have to see about that, won't we?

[He placed his clipboard on his lap face down and kicked back his desk chair, the wheels audibly dragging on the floor as he reached for the drawer of a filing cabinet behind him. After rummaging around some folders, he produced several forms. These, he piled and set flat on the table, twisting the pages a hundred and eighty degrees to reveal the header of the top document: Non-Disclosure Agreement.

Yes, the country's leading tech company still utilized paper documents.]

How's this: I'll set you up for the standard probationary period, ninety days tops. [Nii tapped the page, his inscrutable gaze never wavering from the subject.] If you do well, we'll hire you permanently. The salary details will be in the contract, and we'll be fixing your arms. Can't have them breaking down in the middle of a job and all.

[If the other man read the supposedly standard fine print, he'd find several clauses detailing that, by affixing his signature on the form, he was obligated to undergo all medical procedures deemed mandatory by the company.

But hey, maybe he'd get distracted by the injury and disability insurance form, or the contract showing a salary higher than what he got from his previous three jobs.]

[inappropriatelaughter]

[ Gojyo's eyes were glued to those papers. He knew automatically what they were and what they meant; he'd had to sign similar agreements to get his last jobs. He signed these the same way — glanced at figures that looked like money, got excited and ahead of himself, and scrawed his signature on the line without paying any attention to the fine print. ]

Yeah, uh— [ He turned the signed papers back around and waved a hand, somewhere between blithely permissive and uncomprehending. His arms had been fine, apart from the rain thing, for a while now; but what did he know? And going along with it was the difference between making rent and getting evicted, so it didn't matter. ]

I mean, whatever you need to do, I guess. [ He grinned, attempting to steer the conversation somewhere more comfortable: ] So what'm I gonna be doin'?