⇒ 67

[whatialways_do]

Who: Max Guevara and YOU
What: Max’s nightmare
When: Anytime within the plot.
Where: Manticore.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Child torture, violence, brainwashing.



The nightmare beings in a whitewashed hallway, the blue tinge of the fluorescent lighting flickering above you. It also could be a lot bigger than you’re used to, depending how tall you are. If you take the time to look, you’ll find that you still have all five fingers and five toes, but they’re now child-sized, to go with a body that’s tight and compact and meant to fit into small spaces. You’re dressed in blue smocks, plain and simple, meant to allow freedom of movement and not allow anyone to stand out. Also, if you had hair longer than a buzz cut, it’s gone. The only thing that’s truly distinguishable about you is your face, but in a sea of small X5s, some who actually have your face, it makes it hard to stand out.

Which is good, because Manticore’s goal isn’t exactly to have well rounded individuals.

A guard dressed in army grab approaches you, a rough, hard voice barking at you as he asks you why you aren’t with your unit. You’ll freeze, terrified in one place as he reaches for your arm and drags you away. You’re stronger than him and you know it, but striking an officer with a higher rank than you is grounds for a trip to psyops or worse, the med lab. You don’t fight, you don’t struggle, you just go, willing to lead you to wherever they want to take you.

Whatever punishment awaits, you’ll take it when you get there.



[SECTIONS: CLASSROOMS | MED LAB | 'NOMILIES]

Comments

CLASSROOMS

[whatialways_do]

You’re taken to a small room that in another world could have been mistaken for a classroom. In the room, there’s a small group of X5s, each of them with the same buzz cut and surgical garb, but they each have distinct faces. They’re all members of Max’s unit from before she escaped. Zack, Tinga, Jondy, Ben, Jace—all of them. You don’t know their names, however. All you see are designation numbers, written in big bold letters on their foreheads.

All they’re meant to be are their numbers. X5s aren’t people. They don’t get to have names.

Your ordered to take your seat next to a X5 who may look a little familiar. She has 452 written on her forehead, but she doesn’t acknowledge if she recognizes you or not. She keeps her eyes looking straight ahead, and you should too.

Good soldiers follow their orders.

WELP

[inmylight_commander]

[There is something very familiar and yet very wrong about this whole situation. Kat's obedient if just out of curiosity and confusion. She sits in her chair, gaze lingering on 452, before looking ahead and frowning slightly.]

[whatialways_do]

[452 doesn't acknowledge her either way. She just keeps her eyes focused straight ahead as images start to flash over the screen. Words in bold capital letters like "Duty" and "Discipline" flash across the screen, interchanged with pictures.

Occasionally it came to a word like "Traitor" and Max's adult face would flash across the screen, along with her barcode.]

[inmylight_commander]

[Kat's intelligent enough to know this is an association excersize, but she frowns deeper when Max's face goes up -- she knows that woman, in the castle ... she was an ally.]

[Kat raises her hand.] That's not right.

[whatialways_do]

[452's eyes are wide and worried. The "teacher" sitting at the front of the class raises an eyebrow.]

That's not for you to say.

[inmylight_commander]

[Kat frowns again.] Why?

I know her. She's an ally.

[whatialways_do]

She abandoned the mission and abandoned her unit.

[wolfiehood]

[ Scott's feeling pretty lost and confused by the entire situation. There are things he seems to understand in a way he shouldn't, but he still feels lost and confused, and as he's ushered into the "classroom".

He's not doing a very good job of being a "good" soldier. He's standing by the door, looking around him and just asking for trouble by not falling into place and paying attention like he should. ]

[whatialways_do]

[Yep. Definitely asking for trouble. So much trouble that a guard is going to come up and shove him forward, forcing him into the seat.]

[wolfiehood]

[ Scott stumbles forward and quickly moves into the seat, not looking to get shoved around any more than he already has been. He still looks confused, and keeps glancing over at the other kids in the room. ]

[whatialways_do]

[452 keeps her eyes straight ahead, watching as the pictures cycle through. After a moment she'll whisper, barely audible.]

Pay attention.

[wolfiehood]

[ Scott's attention snaps to her, and he looks around before leaning in a little closer to her, and trying to keep his voice down too. ]

What?

[whatialways_do]

[glances over for a moment, before back to the front board]

Bad soldiers are taken to the 'Nomilies.

[valuedstrength]

[Steve doesn't know why he's here or how he knows what to do. All he knows is that he feels uncomfortable. This situation is all wrong. He goes along with it anyways since he doesn't know what else to just yet. Taking a seat didn't seem so bad until it clicks in his head just who he is sitting next to. When Steve thinks of Max he pictures a beautiful woman with a full head of hair. Still that face is too distinctive for even age and hair to stop him from recognizing her for long.]

Max?

[whatialways_do]

[She doesn't respond at first. You're not supposed to talk in class. But when there's a lull in the pictures, she'll glance over and shake her head.]

It's 452.

[valuedstrength]

[He's getting that. Steve is careful to keep his voice low.] Like your head says. [A pause.] But, you look just like her. Are you related?

[whatialways_do]

[No, she IS Max, but he shouldn't know that. He's not part of her unit and using that here could get them in trouble.

Instead there's just a small, almost imperceptible headshake.]

[valuedstrength]

[Steve frowns. This is frustrating. Let him just focus on whatever they are trying to teach here while he sorts out how a child could look like Max and have nothing to do with her or why they would lie about that.]

MED LAB (WARNING: CHILD TORTURE)

[whatialways_do]

This room has the stink of fear and blood, all festering under the too-clean smell of whatever they use to sanitize it. They wouldn’t want you to get an infection, after all. That would be a waste of tax payer dollars.

Inside the room are men and women dressed in white, with masks covering their faces and scrub caps over their hair. They have the too-sterlie smell about them as well, and all you can see is their eyes. They have dead looks to them, like people that have been pushed past the point of caring. The guard who grabbed you earlier starts to drag you to the table. You can fight all you want, but either way, you’re going to wind up where they want you to go.

And they’re going to be very annoyed if they have to drug you.

When you get up onto the table, you’ll find that there’s another gurney alongside you, with another small X5 like you. She’s scared, you can tell, but she’s got a good game face. When she speaks, her voice doesn’t shake, but her eyes tell you to listen without needing to say the word.

“Don’t move. It’ll hurt less if you do.”

“No talking,” one of the doctors’ snaps, before picking up a scalpel from the side of the table. “Let’s get started.”

'NOMILIES

[whatialways_do]

You go from the blue fluorescent lights of the upper level, to the dark, desolate corridors of the basement tunnels that were built beneath Manticore. There’s only one small bulb every few yards, but you don’t really need it. One of the benefits of having feline DNA is excellent night vision, so you can see exactly where you’re going.

The guard isn’t so lucky, so there’s no saying you won’t get smacked into a few doorways along the way.

There are iron doors lining the hallways, all with small barred windows at the top. From inside the doors you can see the disfigured fingers or glowing eyes shining through the bars, threatening to swallow you whole. They’re the ‘Nomilies, every X5’s boogeyman. You’ve been taken to the place where the bad soldiers go, and you’re scared. You can’t help the fact that you get the shakes. It’s brain chemistry, it’s not your fault, but you’re stuck down here until you can be fixed.

Though you know from experience that Manticore tends not to fix what they break.

The fear sinks deeper and deeper into your skin as your lead down the hallway until you reach the final door and are tossed inside. Once the door slams closed, the room itself seems a lot smaller. You’re an adult again, if you were an adult to begin with, and this time dressed in a solid gray t-shirt with black and grey army fatigues and black combat boots.

Max is perched on a box by the far window, using what looks like a file to saw away at the iron bars. There’s also something in the far corner, something dark and ugly, but you don’t want to look at it quite yet. There’s something there that you don’t want to see and don’t have to see.

Sooner or later you’ll have to, but for now, your only concern is getting out.

[fishy_go_byebye]

Del should be used to being locked up in small spaces. Should be in the way that she should be able to understand every one of Hers, and most of Hers ended up being locked up in small spaces.

No one likes that, though. No one likes it when you can't get small enough for your small space to feel big enough, even if it's not big. But she doesn't pace, or rock, or cry. These days (day night day again) where not days and not nights and not even time. Was this dreaming?

Del didn't like dreaming, anymore. Not when it wasn't her own awake dreaming. "We haven't been loud enough to be here."

That was what it required. Loud. Insanity was ignore-able when you were quiet.

[whatialways_do]

Max turns at the sound, frowning in Del's direction as she speaks. "What?" She doesn't have time for this. She needs to finish sawing through the bars.

Which, speaking of those, are reforming starting the second she looks away.

[fishy_go_byebye]

Del watches the bars close, tapping her foot against the ground. "We haven't been loud enough to be here."

Repetition is easy sometimes. It's the only sentence she can think has a meaning.

[whatialways_do]

"Oh, I've been plenty loud. Trust me."

She glances back to look at her handiwork, and frowns. "Damn." Then she starts all over again.

[fishy_go_byebye]

Del was used to being pressed in her corner, settled on her ground.

But she didn't want to stay when her company was leaving. Not at the moment, at least.

So she got up. Got up and wandered over. And tried to dream up her own file.