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Post by JW% on Feb 11, 2013 18:09:13 GMT -8
They may have been given some hints as where, and why, they were being taken away. It depends on who was bringing them there. Most likely it was a silent journey, the parent or guardian hauling the child out of bed sullenly as they were contacted that it was time, and taking them out of the city, past the mass graves of those who died, and were still dying, from the disease, through the desert salt flats that may once have been a huge lake bed or possibly a ocean bay that has long since drained leaving not but parched landscape for miles.
The plateau rose up out of the flat landscape like a treestump. Atop the rock pillar was some sort of construction that looked, from a distance, like an armored tower or cannon. As they grew closer it started to resemble something more like an observatory constructed with modern art in mind. A somewhat surreal building this far out into the wilderness.
There seemed to be an airlock style bunker in the side of the plateau, leading to a small underground parking lot. From there the families, if one could call them that, had only a freight elevator to take. A single button, "up" was marked on the elevator.
The elevator opened to reveal a darkened room that looked like somebody had given a poor effects budget to the set designers and told them to build the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. Switch board that looked like they'd been stolen from a museum were hooked up to plasma globes or jacobs ladders. The rooms darkened walls were denoted more by the glowing cylinders, about the size of a coffin, in various bright neon colors. Pink, Red, Blue, Green, Purple, Orange, Cyan, Yellow, and one directly across from the elevator, larger and more dominate. This one was uncolored, but lit from within by what appeared to be cycling flames. This seemed to be the primary light source for the room as a whole.
"Welcome children." A voice boomed throughout this room, though the edges of the room seemed to absorb sound just as they did light. "Your guardians contracts are now fulfilled. They may leave as I speak to the rest of you on the subject of dire events and your future, as well as the bleak future of all humanity."
The source of the voice made itself revealed as a massive head appeared in the pillar of flames, his features difficult to make out beneath the fire, though he seemed to be bald, or have hair so closely cropped as to be indistinquishable from bald, but his mouth was denoted by a thick curled moustach that would have looked comical on anyone else, but here seemed to lend a note of authority and history. It was though the man this floating, burning, head represented had been around since long before the turn of the century and now was speaking to them with a perspective mere mortals could not achieve.
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Post by Penny Royals on Feb 11, 2013 22:33:22 GMT -8
Ryan's journey had been a strange one. Grandmother Florence hadn't told him much... in fact, she hadn't told him anything at all, simply waiting until she'd given him his 'treatment' and then hauling him off while he was still pretty dazed. The ride was a long one, along a route he'd never been, in a car with leather seats that he wasn't sure he'd ever even seen before. Then again, it wasn't until towards the end that he really started realizing much of anything, as the effects wore off. Groggily he had asked her what was going on- and she only told him the bare bones of the story.
Part of him was hurt: that she'd sell her one relative, the one living person she had raised, her 'little prince' into some form of bondage.
The other part of him, however, was glad: their relationship had been... strained, to say the least, for so long of a time. Ever since he'd left the house without her, had seen the damage around his neighborhood that she'd tried to shield him from when he was with her.
And so he'd gone with her with no complaints, no words, until they went up to the room with the fiery face exploding inside the tube, telling them orders. He'd stayed stoic, silent, until she, along with the other people, had left. Then his face contorted into a grimace.
"Dire events?" He asked, his voice sounding a bit less confident than he'd hoped. "Bleak future of all of humanity? What are you talking about, exactly?"
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Post by JW% on Feb 12, 2013 2:11:18 GMT -8
"Have you not seen the devastation of the pandemic that swept the world? The disease that has slain over half the worlds human population in one generation, and continues to bring misery and suffering to this day?" The booming voice asked. "This is, sadly, but the first of many threats poised to destroy humanity. I have witnessed these threats growing, and I would not see the extinction of human kind. It does not suit my goals, nor do I believe that any of you wish such a future. Your guardians did not. That is why they entered into the contract with me, to provide me with suitable candidates to fight against such a dire future. Are you such candidates?"
He seemed to shift his gaze from within the flames over each of the gathered people, as though looking into their hearts to see if there was courage buried deep within.
"I warn you, the path will be difficult. You will suffer much sacrifice and pain, and there is no certainty of your success. You are simply the last gamble I have the power to make in order to safeguard the world from that which threatens it."
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lovely corte
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Post by lovely corte on Feb 12, 2013 2:49:01 GMT -8
Benjamin said little to nothing on the trip, nor did his father, whom sought that the only comfort the boy deserved was to stare at him once in a while as they took the journey across the destroyed Wasteland of his youth.
He sat, wide-legged, elbows on his knees, holding his hands. To his credit, he didn't break down and cry, much to the chagrin of his father, whom could only see the boy doing as much.
The journey came to a halt, and for the remainder of the journey, he continued to say nothing to his father. Even as the man left, they never locked eyes, never embraced, never shook hands; no amount of familiarity that would make Benjamin feel like he wasn't always a disgrace.
But alas, he was. At least in his father's eyes.
He looked around, noting the other children and their guardians, and taking in the surroundings. He noted that he appeared to be the oldest among them, save for another boy off to the side of him.
He remained silent for the duration of the speech, and even as the girl spoke, before he allowed himself a reprieve from the silence and looked towards the others.
Already, he could feel the fear surround him. The bunker, as spacious as it was to some of the others, made him feel cramped, and he pulled on his clothes nervously, trying not to break down and cry, or run. Either option wasn't preferable to the wannabe soldier, whom kept telling himself that real soldiers never ran.
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Post by Penny Royals on Feb 12, 2013 6:39:38 GMT -8
((If the 'girl' part was intentional, and even if it wasn't, that was hilarious xD))
Ryan maintained his stance for the entirety of the man's speech, only speaking up finally at the end.
"I have seen it," he replied, though uncertainly. "I... I was studying, so that I might one day become a doctor, and find a cure for it." He fell silent again, listening to everything, listening to that end.
He wasn't big on pain, and even less so on sacrifice. What he had experienced of the two had definitely been unpleasant, but at the same time, what choice did he really have? To go back was probably worse- he doubted he cold stay with Grandmother Florence for much longer, at least for his own sanity, so he'd be turned out to the streets, to die amid rabble and probably be eaten as a noninfected person. Besides, in an altruistic way, would their pain and sacrifice count for much in the long run, so long as the deed was done and the world was saved?
He didn't even want to think about there being a possibility they might not succeed.
He stayed silent for several moments, mulling it over and glancing around the room. He seemed to be older than only one of the others, a girl, and... even that could be debatable, as they were almost the same height. None of them seemed like good candidates at all... but in the end, that didn't seem to matter, did it? The history books always talked about underdog motley crews who saved the day... maybe they would get their names in history books as well. And so, Ryan looked up to the head finally.
"I'm in."
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Post by Fiery Firefly on Feb 12, 2013 15:01:58 GMT -8
Lyra Harrison has spent the whole journey crying in her mothers lap. Phoebe Harrison had tried her hardest to soothe the 13 year old child, whispering to her about how much she loved her, and trying to soothe her with the sad songs she'd always sing to put her to sleep when she was a child. Words that meant nothing to Lyra, but at one point before the plague they did mean something.
When they arrived, her father had said, "Stay in the car Phoebe. I'll take it from here,"
Her father had to pry her from her mother's arms and the words Phoebe said to her last would always be engrained in her head, "Goodbye Lyra... I wish I had been strong enough to keep you."
Lyra sobbed to herslef as her father lead her to her destiny. He said nothing to the girl, and there was no semblance of pity in his eyes. When given the oppurtunity, he left her without a single word.
As the voice spoke out to them, Lyra half-listened, and half looked around at the others who had been sold into the contract. They all looked so much older than her. From what she could understand from the snippets she had heard from her parents, she was barely at the cut off age for being able to do the contact, she had only turned 13, three months earlier.
She wiped her tears with her sleeve, and tried to put on the strongest face and voice she could as she asked out to the voice, "Do we have a choice in this?"
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Post by Alastor on Feb 12, 2013 19:08:04 GMT -8
There was perhaps the group's oldest, a boy not older than sixteen in a green shirt with a jacket thrown over it, leaning on one of the fuse boxes. The boy, Austin, kept looking at the flaming head, intensely listening to every word it said with the highest amount of concentration he could give, intrigued by every word.
Rather obviously, the boy's relationship with his stepfather was strained. The two never really got a long, with the older man having a rather obvious distaste for the teen, so it was no wonder that this relationship was worsened when Austin's mother died of the disease wiping out humanity. Even less of a surprise is that the boy was sold into a bondage when the chance arose.
The head's current statement so far was what got the boy to say something. "So... What you're saying is we're going to save the planet?" Asked Austin, both rhetorical and trying to get conformation. He paused for a second, not even waiting for a response. "I'm in as well."
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Post by JW% on Feb 12, 2013 20:05:42 GMT -8
"There is always a choice." The floating head in the flames stated, answering Lyra's question first. "I made no illusions to your guardians that the process of readying you for your battles would be dangerous, perhaps fatal. And the dangers you will face in the fight to save humanity will be even greater."
"If you wish to leave, you may leave now. Your guardians may have remained below to transport you back." Otherwise it would be a very long walk through desert and then the open air crematorium where people who wanted to live worked in bio hazard suits. "Your preparation was intended to take seventy two hours. The first part would involve an inoculation against the disease currently ravaging the world. A process I fear is quite extreme and involves the removal of your humanity. You have been chosen because your bodies are young and will best adapt to the transformation."
He seemed to wait for them to ask further questions before instructing them on just how this transformation would take place...
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Post by Fiery Firefly on Feb 12, 2013 21:46:48 GMT -8
"I... I don't think my father stayed behind." Lyra said. "And I don't want to go back alone. I... what do you mean by removing my humanity?"
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lovely corte
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Post by lovely corte on Feb 12, 2013 22:47:50 GMT -8
Benjamin could feel his knees shaking, a natural response to the idea that he was left in the charge of some weird man and several other children, only several of which looked to be of an age where they could of fully experienced the world before.
He nervously wrung the hem of his shirt, keeping his head down and sighing, a shuddering breath pushing through his teeth, before he finally steeled himself and looked up, determined to put on a brave face.
"Who are you!?" Benjamin asked, before he thought of a better question. "What are you!?"
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Post by JW% on Feb 13, 2013 2:34:07 GMT -8
"Ah. Forgive me children. It has been some time since I've needed to introduce myself, I seem to have forgotten to." The voice not only quieted itself, but actually sounded embarrassed. "As for who and what I am, the answer to that is complicated. However, it is best to say I am a traveler who has come to call this world home. I was once a man, once a boy like many of you, but now have become somewhat more... and somewhat less... than one. Before I became confined as I am, I was called Oscar Zoroaster. Considering appearance of the current technologies maintaining my life, it has amused others to call me Oz, and you may also call me that. I also prefer Mister Z, if you wish to be formal, as my last name is somewhat unwieldy. In my travels I have seen much, but as I currently am my reach is limited, and I am unable to effect the desired changes myself. Were I able, your own sacrifices would be unnecessary and none of you would have been called on."
A brief pause as he seemed hopeful that this answered the question suitably. Then he raised his voice back to the level it was before. "As for how the changes wrought on your body will remove your humanity..." He seemed to pause to think. "Once more it is complicated. If you would perhaps gather in the central area and sit down I could explain it at length. I apologize for the lack of chairs."
"The process of inoculating you against the disease is also a further step to empowering your body. You will find that your shape is being remade. Your lungs will become more efficient, your muscles develop fatigue toxins less quickly, your nerve endings heightened. This will require a minor reprogramming of your brains map of your body. Sealed within the human mind is a ever changing, ever growing map of how your body should appear. Should you suffer an injury, your body consults this map and attempts to reconstruct your body. This is how you heal. Open wounds are seen by your body as unnatural, and cell growth is stimulated so that your body attempts to close the wound and repair itself. However, the naturally formed map of your body is often cluttered with inefficient details, and your cells can only be stimulated to a certain point. The process you will undergo will increase your cells efficiency at self repair, allowing your body to fight off not only injury, but diseases as well."
"The primary reason however that I say you will be shedding your humanity is not the benefits of the process you will gain, but the unwanted side effects. Primarily the genetic code within your reproductive organs will no longer be compatible with other, non-agumented, humans. The fundamental consideration of determining two specimens of opposite genders to hold the same species is their ability to mate and produce fertile offspring. And so, you won't be human any more."
"If you fear that the process will in some way remove your... soul or spirit or whatever you have been taught to believe in, I can only say that such a determination is up to you to decide. I can not tell you what your soul is, or if it has been removed. This process will change your body, and even in many small ways your mind, though it neither adds nor removes memories, thoughts or emotions. If you believe that growing taller or learning new skills like riding a bicycle in some way alter your soul, then this process surely will as well. For all other intents however, you will be the same person you are now. You will simply have experienced growth, and unfortunately quite awful growing pains."
"The reason for the seventy two hours is primarily a recovery period. The actual process requires only a few minutes, but after that you will require twenty four hours on life support," as internal organs are broken down, and the majority expelled as waste while new organs take their place, "followed by a minimal of forty eight hours recovery. During this recovery period you will be encouraged to leave the command center and enjoy the sunlight and fresh air. For those of you with long hair, I apologize in advance, but it may be weeks before that grows back, as it will be growing back at the normal rate." Fortunately for the children, their skin will have finished regrowing somewhere around the start of day three. Unbeknownst to them, Oz was omitting certain details of the process to not disturb the children.
"After your inoculation is complete, you will be outfitted. If you wish, after outfitting, you can contact, and even return to your families if you wish, to reassure them that you have survived this first stage of your preparation. You will, however, be called on to perform your new duties, as they arise."
"Before the consolidations of the population there used to be a name for people who cared for the world, tending parks and forests. They were called rangers, and I hope that with the ability to withstand the plague you will have the power to become rangers. That you will have experienced the brink humanity is poised on, and you will guard against any others who would be pushed over it. If you are ready now, please select your favorite color of the containment chambers that line the room and step into it. Otherwise I can answer any more questions that you may have." The cylinders that were against the wall, each lit in a different color including but not limited to red, blue, green, yellow, and even one that was black light, opened themselves and waited.
~~~~~~~~EDIT: ((Changed three words so the colors were more focused on our player characters. Though I'd like to say that there are two tones of many colors, meaning there's a red and pink, navy blue and sky blue, etc. Because if the scene wasn't running long as is, I'd be introducing OTHER children who were brought in with you guys... kids who won't survive as long as your characters.))
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Post by Penny Royals on Feb 13, 2013 6:44:00 GMT -8
Ryan had been listening, sitting crosslegged in the middle of the room, with a mixed sort of fascination and horror. The man spun his tale to them. It sounded... terrifying. Absolutely terrifying, painful... but there were perks...
He got up, standing beside the red container close by, his hand on the glass. He hesitated, and turned around to stare at Oz.
"You're... you're brilliant," He breathed. "For figuring all this out, I mean... how on earth did you...? Did you make it alone, or...?"
So many questions, so little words to describe them.
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Post by Fiery Firefly on Feb 13, 2013 13:00:30 GMT -8
The loss of the ability to have children was no big loss to Lyra. In fact pregnancy and childbirth terrified her. Her mother had become pregnant 4 years earlier, and had almost gave her father the son he craved. Unfortunately a placental detachment killed the baby, and had almost killed her mother. Lyra had witnessed the whole bloody mess and she vowed never to have children.
She listened carefully to the details of the procedure and cringed through most of it. She was going to miss her long blond curls, but she presumed that was the least of her worries.
She liked the idea of being a hero, of protecting others. It reminded her of the books she'd used to read, to escape from the horribleness of real life. Though she doubted her adventures would be as fun and whimsical...
"All right. I'll do it." she finally said.
She found herself hovering by the yellow container. Yellow was her favorite color, because of how bright and cheery it was. She didn't want to be the first to get in, she was hoping one of the older kids would do so first.
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lovely corte
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Lindsey Looseflaps
HE LOOKED AT ME! HE LOOKED RIGHT AT ME!
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Post by lovely corte on Feb 13, 2013 15:54:37 GMT -8
Benjamin's face quickly dropped from one of astonishment as to how this medical apparatus would envelop and change their bodies, to one of sadness and trepidation as he looked upon the favorable colored tubing.
He felt a small religious twang hit him, and he begun to consider the morality of it all. He weighed it off on either side, and begun to think back to the few religious sermons he'd ever gone to. Really, the soul was in the person, no matter what, for God and God's hands only, Benjamin's soul was to Heaven.
Overcoming his trepidation, he took a deep breath and shuffled along to the light blue. The color always hit him as being favorable, compared to the stark orange and wasted browns of the outside world. It was always reminding him of the ocean, something he deeply missed.
He got to the threshold, and took the final step, and turned around to face the others inside the tube.
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mekasoundwave
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Post by mekasoundwave on Feb 13, 2013 21:51:08 GMT -8
The girl with the brown jacket and black bob cut had been silent the whole time. The ride to the building, the ride up the elevator, even the flaming head all elicited no vocal response from her. Just a stoic, attentive stare. Even her guardian shared no words with her. Just an affirmative, assuring nod and a grin just barely big enough to be considered a smile were all the two did before going their separate ways.
Zephyrine didn't see the need to say anything. Any questions she had, someone else had asked. And she didn't have many questions. Everything else to her was just wasting time. Especially when the head mentioned the minimum 72 hours the procedure would take.
When Mr. Z told the children to enter their chamber of choice, the girl almost gave a sigh of relief. Almost. She turned to pick and take a spot. Black seemed nice. Unique, at the very least. She always forgot whether it was white or black that was the complete absence of color. And one was an oversaturation of EVERY color, so that only mucked things up further. As she started her walk, a thought hit her midway through. As she deliberated in her head, she stopped and turned around with one foot in the camber.
"Uh...should I, like take my jacket off or something before I climb in there, or is that okay to go in with me?"
She had no clue what would happen in there, and Z made no mention of taking of clothing...but her jacket was a bit more heavy than anything anyone else wore.
It was a question she felt like asking, at least.
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Post by JW% on Feb 14, 2013 3:18:00 GMT -8
Oz didn't answer how he had arranged this, though the truth was he was not alone in developing his technology. It was simply his wish to see humanity lead back from the brink that he felt he was alone in.
"Your clothing you wish to keep should be removed. If you wish there are lockers you can use under the harmonic frequency observer... One moment, I'll cause it's viso-plate to activate." The head seemed to look away and shift almost out of the flames, and one of the monitors on the banks of equipment lit up, showing strange waves and ripples. Below it were several cabinets that they could put their clothing in. "To be honest, between the assisted carbon biotechnology carrier fluid, the radiation bath therapy, and the life support attachments, your clothing will likely be destroyed by the inoculation process. New attire will be given to you as soon as possible once you have recovered. In addition to refreshments, as you are likely to be quite hungry and thirsty as soon as you awaken, will be provided to the best of my ability."
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Post by Fiery Firefly on Feb 14, 2013 9:00:53 GMT -8
Lyra felt a bit torn. She thought of all the times her father complained about how ungrateful she was for having a family to feed and clothe her, and she felt throwing her clothes away like that, would prove his point. However she also didn't want to strip in front of these strangers, the majority of which were male.
In the end Lyra comprpmised and only removed her blouse and her shoes. She has wearing a fairly modest undershirt underneath, so it wasn't that awkward, though she stll tried her hardest not to make eye contact with the other. She also removed was a charm bracelet from her wrist and placed it in one of the cabinets. It had belonged to her mother as a teenager, the various charms being gifts from family and friends long dead from the disease.
"I will get this back right?" she asked as she walked back to her yellow container, "Its kind of an... heirloom. A gift from my mother"
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mekasoundwave
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Post by mekasoundwave on Feb 14, 2013 14:57:34 GMT -8
Zephyrine was glad she asked the question when she had. She rather liked her jacket. It'd gotten her through some tough weather and she was glad she had it. It also had tons of pockets and those were always useful. It was almost like her very own security blanket. She didn't exactly want to part ways with it.
Backing out from the chamber, she walked over to the cabinets and placed her jacket inside. She also sat down and took her shoes off. Wouldn't want to waste those, either.
Everything on her person that she felt like keeping was safely inside the cabinets. With no hesitation or further questions, she walked back to her chamber and stepped inside completely, arms held across her chest as she waited for everyone else to do so.
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Post by Penny Royals on Feb 14, 2013 18:40:50 GMT -8
Ryan glanced at the cabinets, and then down at himself. He wore a white tunic, tucked into high black pants, with comfortable shoes and a red coat. The whole outfit was pretty nice, not to mention probably expensive. So of course, he took almost everything off, stripping down to briefs and stepping inside the tube, taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes.
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Post by Fiery Firefly on Feb 14, 2013 21:42:03 GMT -8
Lyra willed herself to look at the others and blushed when she saw Ryan stripping, and quickly looked away.
Everyone was getting in now, she was one of the few left. She took a deep breath and entered the tube, and awaited whatever her fate was.
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lovely corte
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Post by lovely corte on Feb 14, 2013 23:41:25 GMT -8
Benjamin looked down at himself at the question of taking off his clothing came up, and whether or not it had any sentimental value to him. He wore loose, brown scraps for a top, and buckled shorts and paper shoes.
If anything, a new set of clothing, a full belly and a wet throat would of been a welcomed change from his usual day-to-day attire and feeding manners.
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Post by JW% on Feb 15, 2013 16:46:27 GMT -8
The cylinders rotated shut on the group of children who didn't even know each others names. Not all the pods were filled, but a good number of them. At least one of each "color" and in some filling both shades of the color. The red and the pink or the black and the white for example.
"The fluid is hyper-oxygenated. You will be able to breath it if you take slow deep breaths." The voice of Oz said as the tubes started to fill with some sort of solution. Fortunately the tubes were solid enough that even if the children did panic, their struggles would come to naught and the sedative in the fluid they were now breathing would start to work on them...
Brian Jones Junior had picked the white chamber when everyone else had picked their favorite color. White wasn't really his favorite, but then again it wasn't really a color... was it? It had still been offered as an option, and nobody else seemed to want it, so he stepped in...
He remembered the water coming up and the feeling of choking on it, only to find that once all the air was out of his lungs he could breath... with some difficulty. After this, he figured he'd never again have a fear of drowning.
Brian had been lost in a well once, lowered down by his father, only to have the line snap, trapping him down there for hours in the dark tight confines and the cold damp earth. When a second rope had been sent down and he'd finally been pulled back up the next morning, his father had only asked if he'd fixed the leak in the pump or if they'd have to pull the line back up.
So the tight space really bothered him... but at least it wasn't cold. And then he felt something else inside the tube with him. Something crawling along his back as everything started to go black. The last thing he remembered before the sedative took hold was the three inches of needles being rammed into the base of his skull, and the electrical current forcing muscle spasms so he couldn't fight. He passed out and remained out for the next twenty some hours.
He awakened from a nightmare that he couldn't remember, and promptly choked, finally vomiting up the oxygenated fluids left in his lungs so that he could breath normal air. He felt like he'd vomited up far more than just that, his throat raw and every muscle in his body aching. Even his skin hurt, like he'd just had a hot shower and had been scrubbed with a wire brush.
Panic surged within him as he realized he was still in that narrow coffin, dark now, and he started to struggle, kicking out with one leg. The lid almost exploded off from his kick, tearing off the hinges. He didn't notice that the capsule that had held him so firmly now yielded so easily to his strength. Instead he winced at the bright daylight, and tried to look away. The sun was high in the sky... what time was it? What day was it? He hurt all over...
And as he raised his arm to shield his eyes that weren't accustomed to the light, he saw that his hands were bleeding. His whole body was bleeding. It was like every inch of his skin had been peeled off, and now has grown scabs all over it. Every motion he made caused the scabs to crack and break, and blood to seep out. Ignoring the pain that covered his whole body, it also itched horribly.
Brian fought back a sob of pain, holding his eyes tightly closed. 'Don't cry' he told himself firmly. 'Nobody likes a cry baby'. He repeated his mothers words to him, when his father had simply turned and walked away each time he had started crying. Even that time he had broken his leg during soccer practice... his father had just seen him crying and walked away, leaving him to finish crying and get over it. Or in that case for the paramedics to come. They told him he had been lucky to survive, as he had avoided infection from that injury. He didn't feel lucky then... he didn't feel lucky now. He felt like he was going to die.
It took him awhile to climb out of his pod... it seemed to have been simply ejected from the 'command center'... they were in the salt flats desert below the plateau. They, because most of the pods that had been stepped into were laying beside his, scattered across the area haphazardly. There was the red one, and the blue one, and the green and black and pink...
Brain winced as the salt in the air and on the ground got into his open wounds. It hurt. It hurt so much. He ground his teeth against the pain and tried to ignore the burning as he climbed out of his pod. He was dressed in bandages it seemed. White ones, matching his pod coloring. Enough for modesty, and perhaps to cover any massive openings along his main torso that had been made during surgery, but did nothing to protect his arms and legs as their scabs cracked and he left bloody hand prints on the pod and the salty ground as he climbed out.
His muscles ached horribly, but his throat was sore and he was thirsty. Part of that 'just out of the shower' feeling... he felt dehydrated. And he noticed that there was a box attached to his pod that had fallen open when the pod landed in the parched basin.
Brain couldn't believe his eyes. A whole case of bottled water was right there waiting for him. Flavored water at that. Peach and apple and white grape he saw, picking out his favorites. There was also two boxes of individually wrapped biscuit or cookies or pilot bread or something. All for him! Each pod had the food and water supply attached to it, though not everyone's had fallen open like his had.
Brain reached for a bottle of water, and it exploded as he closed his hand around it. The bottle felt like an over filled water balloon in his hands and had popped under just a bit of pressure. His hands started shaking as he tried to lick off the water that had spilled, but his hands tasted salty and metallic, covered in blood as they were. The dry ground soaked up any of the fluids spilled on it, just as it had soaked up the oxygenated fluids that had been dumped from the childrens pods.
Brian reached for another water bottle, gently this time, and managed to pick it up. With a shaking hand he tried to twist off the cap, and instead crushed the bottle, wringing it out onto the desert floor where it was lost to him. Belatedly he realized that this was his favorite flavor he'd just wasted.
Brian sat there and just started sobbing.
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Post by Penny Royals on Feb 15, 2013 19:50:04 GMT -8
Ryan had learned not to be afraid of the cramped space at a young age. After all, whenever Grandmother Florence had had enough of him- when he wasn't willing to be her sweet little angel that day- she would lock him in the closet in the main hallway and tell whoever was around not to use it. At first, he had always thought it was a dream. A vivid dream- a dream that had made him cry in his sleep, as his shirt was always drenched when he woke back up in his bed. It was only when he was around eight that he had learned just how wrong he'd been- that he really did toss him in there and wait until he had cried himself into a stupor of sleep to pick him up and place him back in bed. He was a heavy sleeper, and had never woken up.
The day he had found out was only a few weeks after his birthday. He hadn't had a good day in the slightest, so of course he hadn't been bright and cheery. But Grandmother Florence wasn't a very sentimental person in that regard. He had wanted to be left alone that day, had hid in his room, and hadn't responded to her when she called for him to give him his treatment. That had made her angry right then, of course. Grandmother Florence wasn't the type of person to go on a rage, or to hit him. When she was upset, she was cold, manipulative, dominating- which he argued, mentally of course, that this was somehow worse. These times were the only times she had touched him in her anger, clasping his arm to take him away. And this was the only time he had fought her, which of course was a bad idea. When she exasperatedly shoved him into the closet, his arm had caught a loose nail, had torn all the way up to his palm. He'd bled all over, and had fallen asleep faster than usual. That day, he woke up laying on his back, a breathing mask on his face- he must have gone into a panic, and she must have given him his treatment while he was passed out- and his shirt sleeve rolled up. Seeing the mark that would leave a hefty scar for years to come sent waves of memories flooding back to him, and, to make a long story short, he never trusted her again after knowing it all wasn't a sick recurring dream.
This of course, was not a day like that, not at all- even though he was in here because of her, in a very technical sort of way. He relaxed as the liquid began to fill the container, even though a sinking dread was coming over him. He knew that if he panicked, something could go wrong- and he didn't want that. He just shut his eyes, and held his hands tightly.
Of course, all sense of calm was stripped away when he felt something hit him, crawl up his body, felt the needle delve into the base of his skull. He took in a sharp, bewildered breath, throwing with all his strength one punch to the wall of the canister. Was this supposed to happen? He would never know, not now anyway, as his world faded to black.
Dots clouded his vision. Little black dots, with goldish-green rims, popping out all around him. Some faded, some stayed as he opened his eyes. He felt groggy in every way- that sort of feeling one gets from falling asleep in the morning and waking up in the afternoon. Confused, exhausted, sweaty, repulsed at himself, with a dry mouth and a growing terror that he was the last person left on the world. He felt drained, empty- what was left? Obviously not the liquid, and just the canister he was inside. His brow furrowed, as he tried to block out the tingling sensation all over his body. Was it pain? Was it an itch? Whatever it was, it was uncomfortable, and as the blurry numbness seeped from his body, it was cold against his back and calves. He struggled, lifting his arm to the other edge of the canister, pressing against it.
Something warm and dark dripped straight from his hand into his eye, blinding him. As his face contracted, it began to sear with pain, like the very fabric of it was being torn. He let out a choked sob, falling into a simple wince. Where was he now anyway? What had happened? What had even fallen on him?
He lifted his other arm, ignoring the pain, and pushed. As the canister broke, he lifted his eyes again. Did he really just do that? Was the thing easy to lift... or did the test work? Was he strong now?
He pushed himself to his feet... and then fell back. He found himself vomitting from pain- the hot, salty, humid air, his skin ripped apart. It took only a few seconds for him to realize he was in a pool of blood. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the terrible light, he looked down at himself, at the bandages covering nigh everything. They were covered just as badly as the rest of him, it seemed, being a soaked red color. He gave a soft groan, and turned to look around the plain.
The first thing he noticed was a boy. He was older, and he was standing there, in his canister, sobbing. His brow furrowed again- something he knew now was bad, as his skin was cracked and peeling (he only hoped he didn't look as... demented as the other boy).
"W-where are we?" He asked. His voice was shaky, and cracked. He coughed. "And... why are you crying?"
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lovely corte
Persistent Member
Lindsey Looseflaps
HE LOOKED AT ME! HE LOOKED RIGHT AT ME!
Posts: 1,402
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Post by lovely corte on Feb 15, 2013 21:41:06 GMT -8
Benjamin realized his mistake far too late, as he stepped into the clinical implement of his favorite color, mainly out of curiosity. The threshold only made his fears confirm themselves, as the tube clasped shut, and Benjamin was far too late to struggle to get out.
A tight coffin, specially designed for the poor boy. What had he got himself into? He pressed his hands against the walls, fighting, shoving, pushing. He didn't know whether the others could hear him or not, nor did he care, as his vision blackened and his breath hitched in his throat.
Only when he felt the cool pool of water around his ankles did he take a moment to register the fact that he might just die, here in this tube; not caring to pay attention to the scientific fact that would of kept him alive.
The water was at neck level by the time Benjamin stopped fighting, and it quickly choked him as his lungs filled with the substance. He attempted to struggle, and found that the choking lasted only a moment, before he gave way to labored breaths, and then blacked out, too panicked to even notice the implement cut into his skull.
Benjamin shook awake as his mind came to be, and his breathing caught in his throat, violently throwing up on the side of his tank, painting the tipped over pod in all shades of green and lime.
He violently thrashed, and found that a single kick had knocked the locking mechanism of his door off, until it just completely fell off when Benjamin shoved it, and fell onto the ground outside on his hands and knees, violently retching through fits of pain.
He looked at his palms. Scabs, blood. He looked down at the area where his hands had been prior, and noticed an exact blood print of his hand, and small pieces of scabbing peeled away.
Kicking his feet out, he stood up, and after a few minutes of recuperation, he began to move, much to his body's chagrin, which cried out in pain as the scabs peeled away from his light blue wrappings.
He clambered to his feet, slammed into his pot and crossed his arms, letting his scabs fall off in agony, pool with blood. The inside of the pod was wet, both with water and blood and smelt of sick. He saw the pot on the side of his pod, and looked to the other man as he fumbled with his, and saw the actions, and decided against it.
"H-Hey," Benjamin said, his voice hoarse and cracking. "W-... We need to check... on the others."
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Post by Fiery Firefly on Feb 15, 2013 22:43:24 GMT -8
Lyra shrieked as the pod began filling up with fluid, and began banging and kicking at the pod, "Let me out! Let me out!" she pleaded, "I changed my mind. Let me go home to my mom please! PLEASE!"
The fluid completely covered her body, her long curls billowing out like a fan as she continued to bang against the pod, hoping someone would have mercy on her. Lyra took a deep breath and realized she could breathe. Her struggles ended and she fell into a deep sleep.
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Lyra woke up gasping, and immedietely kneeled down and coughed up some phlegm. Every inch of her body hurt.
She had forgotten for a moment the horrible ordeal she had just gone through, and completely freaked out over being enclosed in such a small dark space.
"LET ME OUT!" she shrieked in a hoarse voice. And she banged into the side of the pod in what she thought was vain. Instead the side of the pod gave in and she fell out. Unfortunately her pod had been positioned at the side of a hill, and she had been expected to exit through the front of the pod, not my side.
Lyra tumbled down the hill, which was only a few feet and would of only caused a few scrapes and bruises for a person under normal circumstances. Instead several of the large scabs on her body opened up and her bandages began to unravel.
Lyra laid at the base of the hill sobbing. All she wanted was some food or drink to satsfy her stomach. Some pain killers for the burning pain. Some clothing to protect the skin now exposted from the bandages that was being ravaged by the ruthless sun.
But most of all, and she felt extremely childish thinking this, she wanted her mother.
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Post by Penny Royals on Feb 15, 2013 23:53:52 GMT -8
Ryan, still relatively disoriented, nodded to the words of the other boy, looking at the pods. He would have said something... if it weren't for the girl bursting out of the side of the yellow one, and falling down a small mound, to lay at the base of it crying. A sharp intake of air nearly knocked him over then, but he couldn't stand it.
He wasn't sure what it was, but something compelled him, burned him on the inside. He took a firm hold of the side, ignoring the pain, and tossed himself over the edge with ease, to land a few feet away, on his feet. The pain shot through him and caused him nearly to tip over. He lurched forward, a hand on one knee, the other to his mouth, and he dry heaved. There was nothing to vomit, but his body wanted to anyway.
With his feet feeling like they were going to be sandpapered off, and his breath already deep and fast, he finally took off in a sprint to where the girl was, dropping beside her to try to help her up a bit.
"Are you... o-okay?!" he asked, trying to keep himself from weeping from the pain. He felt like he was getting the worst sort of skinned knee possible, with the new addition of his arms skyrocketing in pain. He was, however, keeping firm eye contact with her, even as a few tears rolled down and set his cheeks aflame with short fiery pain. "I... I can h-help you... b-back..."
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lovely corte
Persistent Member
Lindsey Looseflaps
HE LOOKED AT ME! HE LOOKED RIGHT AT ME!
Posts: 1,402
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Post by lovely corte on Feb 16, 2013 0:34:19 GMT -8
Gathering enough courage to brave walking in his pain inducing state, he began to trek towards the sounds of a pod being forcefully opened. He shuddered a bit, as he listened to the sound of the pod door clatter down the hill, followed by the girl.
He hobbled, limped and walked over to the other pods, working to try and see if they would open, let alone whether the occupants were still alive and just as equally as wounded as themselves.
But not before he opened up his box, however, and after watching the other man do as such, opened up his water gently, keeping a firm but light grip, barely holding it with but two fingers, and bringing the item over to the boy, sobbing.
"H-Here..." Benjamin gently held the bottle out to the boy, not crouching down to his level due to the pain, but if he could, he would get on eye level and see if he was okay, but the pain was too much. He could also keep moving and go after the other pods from here. "D-Drink."
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Post by Fiery Firefly on Feb 16, 2013 1:53:29 GMT -8
Lyra continued sobbing as Ryan helped her up, clutching at her loosened bandages, trying to keep her modesty around this strange boy, " I dont know... I don't know anything... You're hurt..." she noticed, "because of me... I'm sorry..."
She felt much safer with him though. She smiled weakly at him, opening scabs on her lips in the process, "I'm...I'm Lyra"
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Post by Penny Royals on Feb 16, 2013 12:53:32 GMT -8
He kept on a grimace, helping her to her feet. He pulled one of her arms over his shoulders, and supported her below the other arm. In a way, she was definitely helping him, by getting his mind off of everything as he hobbled up the little mound with her, and helped her to sit on her canister. It was only then, sitting beside her, that spoke. At first it was just a mumble of 'are you okay's and 'it's not a problem's.
"I... I'm Stark.... R-Ryan... S-Stark." He was staring down at his knees, grating his teeth and trying to keep himself from crying too much. He really, really, really wasn't used to pain- not pain like this, at least. Not pain that felt like sandpaper dipped in acid was scraping across every single millimeter of your body, not pain that burned on the surface and ached on the inside, not pain that wouldn't go away.
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Post by Fiery Firefly on Feb 16, 2013 13:13:47 GMT -8
As he helped her to her feet, Lyra's bloody yellow bandages, that had their adhesive loosened by the sand and gravel getting stuck to it, gave in to gravity and fell into the salty sand.
She was embarrased for only a split second by this exposure, but it was overridden by the pain of every single wound on her body being exposed to the salty air. Lyra sobbed even harder as he carried her to the cannister. She cried out in pain as he set her down, Ryan had tried his hardest to be gentle, but th action still opened up more wounds. She wanted the pain to just end, hell she just wanted to die.
"I thought... I thought we'd wake up in some medical room..." she sobbed, clutching at her knees to wrap herself into a sort of fetal position "I didn't think he'd abandon us out here. I should of left, I shouldn't have gotten in..." She said more words but they were completely unintelligible, just sobs and shrieks from a hysterical girl.
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