The Prototype

[Pattern]

The world is 20XX. Body and full-body modifications/alterations/enhancements are becoming more and more common in this day and age. Androids are around, but rare and few. The most androids you can find are those programmed to work in commercial areas; but beyond recognizing orders and instructions, they are still machines.

While all this is thriving, there are always setbacks. You have your usual mix of pro-bionics and anti-modifications and whatnot; rallies, riots, protests and the sort.

And then, you have the warmongers.

While the world is still somewhat peaceful, there are tensions between countries. It's no longer a space-race, it's now the tech-race, and Japan's leading the race at the moment. Sooner or later, someone's going to bring in a big toy for everyone to play; and someone's bound to play it "with" someone.

[ Please see the plot before joining, thank you: http://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/the-prototype-sign-up-thread-oocs.27788/ ]

 

[Pattern]

The sight of the window always seemed like an ethereal concept to her; it lets you view the world, a person's heart, an insight to a mystery, or perhaps some form of hope. A hope to what, she would wonder, when it will only result in just the same conclusion; the world revolves around the same things, nothing changes. It just…

"…doesn't matter anymore," she thought aloud, still lying on the bed.

Her voice seemed to echo throughout the room. There were noises elsewhere, but at that very moment, the only sound she heard was her voice; she realised how dead it sounded.

Her eyes tried to focus on the window that was in front of her, but it all seemed like a blur, as though she woke up in a daze. She heard the whirring of motors as her mechanical left eye adjusted itself, trying to get the view of the room she was in. It was an old model, she remembered; no enhancements, just the basic functions of a normal human eye.

When it finally fixed itself, she sat up and looked around her. There was nothing to boast about the room, save for some minor decorations of pictures depicting lewd acts between man and woman all over the walls. Aside from those, there was also a bed and a dressing table. Overall, it looked like something you would find in a hotel room, with the exception of the pictures.

The window no longer interested her as much as the dressing table mirror did, now that she noticed it. She got up and went straight for it, trailing behind thin bed sheets that were previously wrapped around her body.

Her mechanical eye whirred again, inspecting the image reflected on the dirty mirror, and she found herself staring at a woman no older than her late twenties. The woman looked haggard and dazed, as though recovering from a heavily drugged state. Her hair was in tumbles of black and brown; locks that lopped on one another and strands that stuck out like, almost literally and metaphorically speaking, "a stick in the mud". The eyes, or eye, were a dull green while the unnatural one shone in bright green light; laser-like, but never piercing. She appeared to be hastily undressed, save for the garters and the torn stockings, and—

"Blood?" she murmured, looking at the dried red stains on her body.

There were several stains across her stomach and chest, but no trace of wounds whatsoever; the stains were not from her.

She looked back at the mirror and noticed another figure in the background; a man, in her bed. Beads of sweat slowly formed around her hands and forehead upon realising his presence, fearing the worst.

Still, curiosity got the better of her. She cautiously approached this still figure, hoping that he was only asleep and not what she feared it would be. Upon this, her mechanical eye observed in detail, noting the half undress state he was in, the tattoos on his exposed chest, the hint of metal from his slightly shredded skin. There was a pillow over his head, completely soaked in red and brown.

He was still not moving.

She flicked the pillow from his head and quickly reeled back in disgust.

His throat was slashed open, exposing the now decaying meat amidst the many wires in it. The man's face retained the expression of perpetual
horror and shock; mouth-gaping, eyes-wide.

There was a knock on the door; "Hey Herv, you done yet?"

"We got a line here. Can't wait all night!"

It was at that moment that everything that was previously a blur in her mind finally came crashing down onto her: Where am I? What happened? How did I kill him? Why am I here? What is going on? Who were those people outside? What do they want from me? What did he do to me? Who am I to—

She froze.

Who am I?

 

[Pattern]

"All right, calm down," she muttered to herself, still trying to grasp the situation.

A man is dead in this room. He was recently dead, she concluded, judging from the colour of the blood that was still red. His enhancements, after she was calm enough to check him thoroughly, showed that he was a body hacker: a man with illegal enhancements implanted in him. And this room, when she concluded her thoughts, is most likely a part of an establishment where debauchery was their main trade.

Judging from her quick deductions, the presence of this body hacker showed that she was probably in the slums, or downtown. At least, she hoped she was right.

My memories can wait. For now, I have to--

There was another knock on the door; "Five minutes, Herv, I'm counting now!"

She blinked; Five minutes.

Her thoughts of escape brought her to the window, trying to get a view of the place. From where she stood, there was a fire exit near the window, ladders leading to the alley below. Yet, when she tried to pry the windows open, they remained in their place; the windows were locked tight.

"Four minutes!" said the voice from behind the door.

She stopped, her mind racing for other options of escaping; break the window with the chair, hide under the bed until it's all over, hide behind the door and sneak out, find a sharp piece and--

"Three!"

No, no, this can't do. Her ears caught the sound of motors whirring from within her as her eyes moved to the only door out of this room; my only way out is there.

Quickly, she searched the room for her clothes, but to no avail. Lacy stockings and other lingerie garments lay sprawled across the floor and bed; definitely not the kind of clothes she needed for her escape. She looked around and found some of the dead man's clothes, gathered in a lump at the corner of the room; in it, she spotted a black trench coat amidst the mess.

"Two!"

The coat was long and it reached down to her ankles. The shoulders too broad for her small ones, and there were only five buttons; enough to cover up to her chest. It was a bit too big for her size when she picked it up, but it was all she had at the moment. She quickly wrapped it around her and buttoned up as many as she could; her hands were nervously shaking from all this.

"One…"

She quickly moved to cover the dead man's face with a new pillow, shoving the bloody one under the bed. Finally, after leaving the scene as how she saw it in the first place, she went to the side of the door and waited there.

"We're coming in!"

She held her breath as they slammed the door open, almost crushing her in her hiding place.

"Herv, you lazy asshole, what the hell were you doing with her anyway?"

"Not like she was able to play with you. That bitch's high as fuck,"

From the corner of her eyes, she counted the men; two…no, three. A third man walked in, joining the two, who were still inspecting their dead friend.

"The hell's wrong with him?" asked the third.

"Knocked himself out, maybe,"

As they spoke, she slowly slid herself out from her hiding spot, her eyes never leaving them. Any minute now, they could just turn and grab her again. Her life would have ended there. She could have—

"Hey, something smells weird,"

"Not me, man, I burnt her lab coat a while back. ID and all,"

She stopped in her tracks; lab coat?

"No, it ain't that. It's—"

"—Herv."

They lifted the pillow.

"Fuck!"

"Where is she!?"

But when they turned around to look for her, she was long gone.

- - -​

​

She pulled her collars up, tucking her hair inside it, as she hurried past the counter. There was a man sitting there, but his snores alone could have could have muffled every screams and sighs of pleasure in this establishment. She murmured some thanks to whatever higher being who is helping her through this ordeal.

Walk out of the door, calmly. And keep walking. Calmly. Normally. Like nothing happened.

The automatic sensors detected her presence, and the door slid open for her to walk through. Remembering her own advice, she kept her calm the best she could, and walked down the street.

To her relief, there were people out and about at this hour of the night. With her dressed in just the trench coat and a pair of thin stockings as her shoes, she was somehow able to blend in with the crowd just fine. There were stares from certain people, but nothing beyond that, thankfully.

She looked about her, taking in the view of the narrow roads surrounding her; everywhere she turned, there were signs in bright neon colours or advertisements on buildings in the form of holograms. Most of them were bars while others were establishments like the one she was from; the fact remains, this part of the city was very much alive at night.

Burned the lab coat, ID an all. What did they mean by that?

The men from before seemed to know who she was, or is aware of who she was, from their mention of an ID they burned. She wondered if she could have gotten more information about her identity if she stayed longer, but she knew that would have been a terrible idea. At the very least, a piece of the puzzle is solved; she had once worked in a lab somewhere.

But what would they want from me? Why would they burn my coat and ID just for--

"…suspect is on the run from officials…"

She stopped, noticing a news report on one of the hologram screens on a building. The picture they put up on the screen looked familiar.

"This man is armed and extremely dangerous. Please exercise caution if you encounter this man,"

The picture they showed was a middle-aged man, probably in his early thirties. His face was clean-shaven. His hair was a disheveled mop of brown. And then there were the eyes, those piercing green; they looked alive, yet somewhat unnatural.

"If you see this man, please contact the police as soon as possible. I repeat, this man is armed and dangerous,"

She turned away, realizing that it probably has nothing to do with her.

"In other news, a fire broke out at one of the train tracks, near Ikebukuro station. Officials have yet to provide us with any explanation."

"In world news, Japan retains its title as 'the most advanced country in the world' with their latest breakthrough in enhancement technology."

"Enhancement technology is now able to replicate cell structures and the functions of stem cells. Scientists say it is safer than the previous method of..."

The night grew colder as she continued down the street, but it did not seem to bother her that much. Her mind was elsewhere; so many questions, so many possibilities, but so many left unanswered.

 

[Mixavia]

"So, how's Tokyo for you?"

Anastasia rolled her eyes and sat on the bed, looking at the video transmission that was showing up on the monitor of her small computer. With a cup of coffee in her one hand and with a quickly made sandwich in the other, she shrugged a little as if thinking about the answer.

"Crowded."

Her husband laughed. "Of all the things that you could've said.. "Crowded"? Really?"

"I'm just saying how it is. I've only been here for two days. I'm still having trouble adjusting to the time difference."
"And the interview?"
"In two hours. I've already checked on the web where I have to go, so I shouldn't have a problem with this, at least. And my motorcycle was brought here last night, so I'm good."
"Call me when you know anything."
"I will."
"And, Ana? Don't get into trouble."

***

She should've known it was all too good to be true. As the man walked with her, showing her the building and even their labs, Anastasia glanced at his face from time to time. There she saw everything she needed to. They wanted her skills and they wanted her help, but what they really didn't want was to let the world know she was working with them. Well, she couldn't blame them, now could she? After all, her last steady job was back at the hospital, years ago. Since then, it was jumping back and forth between tasks for her.

And to think that it was enough to ruin it all for her just because of one, single moment where she didn't manage to keep her cool.

All in all, the offer was amazing. The woman felt her fingertips tickle a little when she thought about the technology and the labs that she would be able to use once being a part of the company, even if that part would be rather shady and not exactly well-known. It was almost sickening how much Anastasia wanted to work here, but at the same time, it was just humiliating how they wanted to push her away from the public eye. No, she wasn't having any of it. Pressing her lips together, she kept quiet for now - no matter her opinion about the matter, getting a tour such as this one interrupted in the middle would be a waste.

When the man - his name was Hiroki as far as she could remember - led her back to the office they talked in before and sat down in his chair, sending Ana a perfect smile, she furrowed her brows.

"I would happily agree to all of your terms-" she started, and Hiroki's face brightened up. Without a second of hesitation, he reached to the drawer and proceeded to check the documents.
"The company will be pleased to have you here, mrs Green-"
"-but I'm not convinced about the nature of the employment - by the way, it's Husher-Green? - are you expecting me to keep quiet about the job?"

Hiroki's smile slowly started to leave his face, but the man noticed it in time and brought it back. Anastasia looked at him. Calmly. No matter how pissed she was about being treated like that, she wasn't going to show any of it. Once was enough - and the consequences were more devastating than she could ever imagine. The man cleared his throat and looked down, on the desk.

"The possibilities are almost endl-" he started, apparently trying to push the conversation onto some safer ground. Anastasia sighed. Well, there goes her Tokyo dream.
"Agreed. The only possibility I won't have is to sign the work with my own name. You won't find many scientists willing to do the work and then release it anonymously." Anastasia crossed her arms. Ah, screw it - she was probably on her way to not getting the job anyway. "You don't have to explain anything; I'm just trying to say that as much as your offer interests me, I'm not going to accept it the way it is now."
"That can be discussed later-"
"Good" Anastasia continued in the same voice, feeling her cheeks get warmer. "For now, let's define 'later'. Mister Hiroki-" she stood up and reached her hand to the man. She was probably breaking some weird Japanese rule again, but heck, she didn't care at all. "It's not a secret - I'm trying to get my name back in the business. It's worth it. The contract doesn't allow me to do that, so I'm afraid I'll have to say no."
Hiroki didn't look surprised. In fact, if she could decide, he looked more like an owner of a dog that he taught to do tricks and the pet just did one. Paradoxically, it angered her even more.
"The company could really use your talents, mrs Husher-Green. I'll talk with my supervisors and we'll contact you. I'm sure we can come to an understanding."

***

Understanding her arse.

Anastasia stood in front of the company's building. It was dark and quite cold, but the street seemed lively for such a late hour. The woman snickered quietly. Now that she realized Hiroki's intentions, it didn't seem so odd the interview was so late. Good thing they didn't tell her to come in a trenchcoat and a fedora on her head to keep people from seeing her around. Ana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelled.. Well, actually, it smelled better than what she was used to back in England. But it didn't help her mood at all.

The phone started vibrating in her pocket, but she didn't reach for it. If it was her husband, she would have to listen to his sincere, though annoying "They don't know what they're losing" or "Don't worry" stuff. Maybe in the morning she wouldn't mind it - but not now. Curling her lips into a smile, she walked to her motorcycle and looked up, hearing a voice.

"...suspect is on the run from officials..."

"Lucky guy. At least you're noticed" she murmured to herself, putting her helmet on.

 

[Tritsteel]

"The thing is; I don't fucking care!" Exclaimed Aaron hitting the huge mahogany table in front of him. Most of the people in charge of the different sections of the company were sitting around the table, having to explain their part in the fading of one scientist, the leak of information of the blueprints of the Project Vajra and the fact that the first prototype was nowhere to be seen. And who was everyone looking at? Well, the head of security, that's who everyone was starting to blame. Of course, in some way they were right. What kind of security head would let all of this happen?

Aaron sighed as he looked at all the people sitting around the table. Damn Chinese people... Thought Aaron to himself. Letting his sight escape through the glass of the room for an instant, Aaron could see that little guy who snitched information for him every now and then. Usually that guy was full of crap, selling bullshit and fake information. It was even surprising he was still alive, but the thing was that if he had the balls to get all the way here it may be because he actually had something worth its price.

"Alright, gentleman. Meeting is dismissed." Said Aaron as he walked out of the room. The other men seemed disappointed, muttering things in their native language, most assured slanders against the head of security. Not that Aaron cared, or even understood half of it. "Hey! You got some nerve coming all the way here." Said Aaron looking at the guy who was actively arguing with the receptionist. "Mister Kovalyov! I was expecting to see you!" Said the little informant as he walked towards him.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Aaron, straight to the point. "Alright, look. I understand you are looking for something, yes? It happens that some friends of mine recently meet... A guy. He is quite... Proficient with computers, yes? I'm sure a man like you could use a help like that." Offered the informant. "Why should I trust you?" Asked Aaron. "Oh, come on. You said it yourself. Why would I be here if it wasn't important, eh?" Replied him. He was kind of right, but that didn't meant Aaron didn't wanted to put a bullet in his head and hang him from a lamppost. Not that it mattered, probably that guy had an illegal implant for that already...

"Who, where and when?" Asked Aaron. "Easy... Where is my... usual fee?" Asked the little man with a smile in his face. "Your usual fee is a bullet, in the barrel of my gun. And I forgot to put the safety on." Replied Aaron. "Alright, Alright... That was creative, I give you that...." Muttered the informant. "Here, this time is on the house." Said the little guy handing Aaron a piece of paper. "I guess walking out of here alive would be enough payment, yes?"