Technology of the Future

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Hydronine, Jan 31, 2011.

  1. NEW YORK CITY, NY
    FEBRUARY 10, 3801
    CONCERT FOR LIT^


    The music blared through the speakers as the band came onto the stage. A thumpy, electronic beat that coaxed most of the audience into dancing. LIT^'s members checked their instruments, while Sugar Cube finally came down from the second level of the stage, walking down the thin staircase as a quick set of notes played. Walking in tune with the beat, dancing playfully, then jumped from the stairs and flipped onto the stage while keying up the speaker that was held in front of her mouth. Her light blue eyes scanned over the audience, and then she smiled.

    "WHO'S READY TO BE LIT UP?" She shouted finally, the crowds roared back and she broke a huge grin before starting to dance around the stage, the notes starting up again. "THIS IS OUR HIT SINGLE "HEART IN WAR"! SING ALONG IF YOU KNOW THE WORDS!"

    "You love what I do
    Cuz I do it for you

    But, baby, it's hard to say
    but I don't want to play
    HEY!
    I'm gonna drop the grenade!

    I fight this war
    all you want is more
    You're the one I adore
    but I could have sworn
    I'm not the one you played for"


    Sugar threw her arms out and looked to the sky, a techno-pop beat played louder and she responded to it. She moved her body to it, throwing her tie into the crowds and then taking her jacket off.

    "Weren't you the one I cried for?
    In the middle of the night?
    was it enough that I was a slave
    -or-
    Was I not what you came for?

    I fought for
    your freedom
    you fought for
    me to be your prisoner of war

    What's a girl to do
    when the one she adores
    is not what she asked for?
    The one she cried for?
    The one she would die for?"


    Sugar felt a little odd all of a sudden, like an itch in the back of her head. She tried to ignore it as stage hands came up from back stage with cords and wires and connected them into the ports on the backs of her hands. Now that the cords and wires were attached, she controlled the stage and the show. This was the new thing. She controlled every light, every volume switch, every electronically controlled device. The itch only got worse, but she fought it off, holding her arms out straight as the music slowed down, getting softer. She dimmed the lights, bringing a spotlight onto herself. Trying to focus. A sweat was breaking out on her forehead.

    Am I responsible for
    this loving war?
    Am I responsible for
    this romance going ashore?

    I fought for
    your freedom
    you fought for
    me to be your prisoner of war

    What's a girl to do
    when the one she adores
    is not what she asked for?
    The one she cried for?
    The one she would die for?"


    The beat picked back up again... that was her cue to start singing again, the crowd was roaring so loud.

    But Sugar was frozen.... she looked out at the audience as if she couldn't see them, all she could see was what looked to be scientists, leaning over her, telling her something.... but she couldn't hear what they were saying... the blood was rushing in her ears.... she felt pain in this vision... it hurt! What were they doing to her? They were speaking and looking at her like she was some sort of a criminal! She didn't understand... she was the nicest PCI music celebrity of the 38th Century! It felt like they were ripping out the backs of her hands and picking at the back of her head... what the hell was going on?!

    Sugar collapsed onstage, meanwhile, her mouth opened and a word was broadcast-ed to the crowds in her soft, pleading voice. Her hands pressed over her ears her body curled on the floor of the set, the headphones and speaker picking up the one small word.

    "Stop!"

    The power was stopped and she was scooped up from the stage and taken away, like a broken computer being taken off to be rebooted. The stage would be quickly dismantled and the crowds wold be funneled out of the stadium, given refunds and promises that there would be a chance to see another show. Certainly. Meanwhile, a couple of the human members of the crew were worried.

    The show was over.

    Graphics would have to be contacted since one of their most popular PCI finally had the flashbacks that everyone had talked about.

    Who knew if they'd allow Sugar to ever work again with the threat of her original memories resurfacing.

    Meanwhile, with this happening, all PCIs in the vicinity were dragged into the same room as Sugar to get checked.

    They wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
     
  2. <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:HyphenationZone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:UseFELayout/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Normale Tabelle"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> The lights were dimmed and people were bustling around the stage, hectically it was being dismantled and prepared for moving. In all this chaos Alan calmly and purposeful dismounted the lighting equipment. He wasn't slacking or being slow, he was just precise and efficient in doing his work, no movement was wasted and everything was done right the first time. It was one of the mayor qualities that his employer cherished.

    Right when he was preparing to load his equipment into the transport two Graphic employees were calling him. Apparently they wanted to do a check-up on all PCIs in the vicinity. Complying with their request he followed them, the test would be done in a room with all the PCIs gathered. He wasn't worried about this check-up, when there was something wrong with him they would fix it and he could return to his work, he didn't like leaving his work unfinished.

    While they walked down the corridor he thought about the strange dreams he sometimes had and the unknown instincts that sometimes urged him to do something. Maybe they would be able to fix that. His eyes stared straight ahead, right at the back of the two employees. His vision suddenly got blurry and he closed his eyes...

    When he opened his eyes again he was staring at the backs of two bulky man in black suits. They were leading him down a corridor, but it wasn't looking anything near the one he was just walking in. Instead of metal the walls were made of fine wood and paintings decorated it. At the sides was furniture made out of wood too, nowadays wood was extremely rare and expensive, so the person who owned this had to be extremely rich.

    He focused on the men before him again. Thoughts came into his mind, thoughts that were not his own.

    -They underestimate me, the disguise worked perfectly-

    He looked down and was surprised that he wasn't wearing his usual clothes. A finely made black suit and brown leather shoes made him look like a trademark business man.

    -Kill the left one with a throwing knife to the neck and strangle the other one, nobody will hear a thing.-

    Strangely his body remembered the sensation of throwing a knife and strangling someone. He didn't even need to think about. It was like his body moved on his own. His hand reached for the hidden pocket were he stored the knife...

    But his hand grabbed nothing. Suddenly he was back in the corridor he knew, the one of made of metal and with Graphics employees before him. He wondered what that strange occurrence was all about, he didn't even know how long he was away. Looking at the two men before him he wondered if they noticed anything. Judging from their behavior it seemed like they didn't notice the whole thing.

    Alan was beginning to hear the typical sounds that a crowd of people made. He guessed that they arrived at their destination now, and his expectations weren't upset when the two men motioned for him to get inside the room.



     
  3. Watching Sugar Cube perform was just one of the many reasons Josie loved attending these shows. That woman had a gorgeous voice, and such hypnotic eyes! PCI's seemed to have more talents than people gave them credit for. They were so... Human, so amazing. Josie always did her best to treat her own PCIs as regular people, for the sake of being humane.

    In her own little, special section of the crowd, she cheered the performers on, her eyes sparkling at the sight of her clothes being modeled. Fashion truly was Josie's passion. People adored the outfits and dresses she designed, even enjoyed attending the shows she hosted to introduce the new dresses every season. She never ran out of ideas and knew exactly what the public wanted! There was no doubt about it... Josie was living her dream.

    Not everything was as... Normal, as it should be.

    Sugar Cube paused on stage and in a flash, she was being carried away, along with other PCIs. A breath caught in Josie's throat when she saw this. Was this happening to all of the others!? Where there a mass malfunction going on? Even though they were just employees, Josie genuinely cared about them. Getting up from her seat, she made a dash towards the people carrying the PCIs away.

    The purple haired woman came to a stop, just feet away from the scene. "What's going on!?" she asked aloud, hoping to get an answer.
     
  4. Sugar Cube was dumped onto a table, her eyes wide and open, yet blind as more PCIs were guided, or in some cases, forced, in after her. After a moment or two, she came to her senses and rose from the sprawled-out mess that she had become on the table. It almost felt like a dream.... or a nightmare as the other PCIs just kept coming. What had happened? What had happened while she was out?

    "What... is going on?" She found herself asking as she moved to the doors of the room, trying to fight past the flow of incoming PCIs to the nearest human. She repeated herself and she almost swore that she saw the person flinch.


    "Please tell me..."She murmured quietly, but that only seemed to freak the person out more, but it didn't take long for her to finally understand what had happened. All those pep talks and speeches she had given, all the public appearances to try and soothe the consumers' fear, all of it was for naught now.

    She had a flash back.

    She had... she had become one of the PCIs that were slated under the name "malfunctioned". Sugar Cube didn't know how to react to this... would she still be allowed to entertain... or was that it for her? and what about the others in the room with her?

    "Right... It's on now? Testing, testing 1, 2.... I am speaking on behalf of Graphics Corporation, Adressing all PCIs at LIT^'s concert.... " A voice began, leaking through the speakers in the room. Sugar didn't like how he sounded... too detached and inhuman... uncaring.

    "You will all be given a maintenance check-up and a tune up, free, compliments of Graphics due to the recent events of.... LIT^'s main singer.... it's just to be safe, and to assure your owners that you are 100% perfectly fine." The voice continued. It sounded like utter bullshit, but Sugar just felt like going to tears. How could this have happened?

    One by one, each PCI was singled out, made to strip, had their ports checked and their vital signs taken. A small cable would be fitted into the ports and a log of all their recent happenings would appear on the scanner that the workers used. Cavity searches and pat downs as well.

    It's just to be safe, and to assure their owners that they are 100% perfectly fine.

    .... So why did over half the room come up with flashbacks registered in their logs?

    The workers left and the doors closed behind them. A room full of PCIs, some naked, some dressed, unsure of what would happen next.

    "How did this happen....?" Sugar finally asked at length, already dressed again, she sat on one of the tables that littered the room.