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 Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 4:40 pm
"It's alright," Ike nodded, "and I like the rain. Sometimes I start to smell like wet dog, but I like the rain."
He then scratched his head.
"And I really don't think I should go back to my room yet anyway...maybe I could...go with you? Bah..." He pushed his mouth to one side nad snorted slightly.
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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 4:47 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 5:01 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 5:15 pm
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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 5:18 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 06, 2006 7:52 pm
Pleasant Dreams
"He's been malfunctioning," a familiar voice spoke. Liam. Bjorn was fully awake, but he could see nothing. Had he gone blind?
"How?" the coldly professional voice of a medic questioned.
"Err..."
"G-G-Guh-litching," a soft, sweet voice spoke, "I-Ihn the f-f-field." Then there were no more voices. The rustling of fabric, shifting bodies. Bjorn suddenly realized why he couldn't see. His optical sensors had glitched out.
God damn this machinery they put inside him.
The man felt a sharp pain as the medic began fiddling with his control panel. Mechanical or not, it was still part of him, and every wire, nut, and bolt led to flesh. He let out a small gasp of pain, and he heard the sweet voice whimper slightly. Liam shushed whomever it was.
The optical sensors came back to life. Bjorn was staring at a ceiling. A very dirty, may-have-once-been-white ceiling. A light that was far too bright for his eyes swung above a blurry doctor's head.
And he wondered where he'd left his glasses.
As the doctor worked, Bjorn thought. It was really all you could do to pass the time and ignore the pain. Machines. They were all machines now, weren't they? Machines controlled whether they lived or died, what worked, what didn't. In fact, they weren't even themselves any more. No, they were fleshy shells made to house weaponry and a bloody control panel to keep you from dying, regardless of your best interests.
For some reason, this enraged him.
Bjorn was, after all, a rather large man. He was the largest man in Mei-Vaar, in fact, in both height and bulk. Because of these facts, he was able to snap through the leather wrist restraints without gaining anything more than a nasty rope burn.
Everything was still blurry. He didn't need to see to be angry, though. It was probably best if he couldn't, anyway. He didn't need to see to get rid of the machine.
"You make us less Human," he growled to the doctor, who was now backing up with his hands in a defensive gesture, "Do you realize that, you blithering ********? I mean, can't we at least die with some dignity? Can't we have some god-damned control?!"
The doctor said nothing. Although Bjorn had not truly expected an answer, this enraged him further.
And so he broke through the ankle restraints as well.
"I'll get rid of it myself."
He'd always hated being a machine. He'd joined the Rebellion to 'stick it to the man' so to speak. Not be become a cold-blooded, mechanical killer. Sure, he didn't pull the trigger, but it couldn't happen without him.
With his un-enhanced arm, Bjorn grabbed the control panel in his chest. His fingers slipped from the slight metal protrusion, but he soon regained his grip. Fingers bleeding, he began to pull.
"The ******** are you DOING?!" Liam shrieked and leaped forward, but Bjorn batted him lazily away.
"D-D-D-DUH-HON'T!" the other voice screamed, but that man made no advances. He knew better than that.
Bjorn paid no one in the room any mind. He continued pulling, sinew stretching taut, fingernails peeling back, fingertips bleeding.
And he felt the control panel give way.
He relaxed his pull for a moment as a cynical grin spread across his face. And then he tugged one last time.
The control panel fell to the floor. Its weight brought out all of its inner workings which, as stated earlier, included flesh.
'Flesh', of course, meant 'a still-beating heart, a hunk of intestine, and the better part of the inner workings of an arm'. Blood spurted and bubbled from the gaping hole in his chest. He had never felt pain so immense or seen so much blood...but there it was.
And he felt somehow...happy.
There was a scream of terror from...someone in the room. Not himself. No, he had already fallen to the ground and was watching the world sparkle and dim. He already felt the frothy black-red liquid spilling from his mouth and gills and ears.
And all he could think was 'where the Hell are my glasses?'...
Bjorn awakened in terror, which only heightened when he found that, although his eyes were wide open, he couldn't see. He brought a hand quickly to his face and found that his sweat-soaked hair had fallen before his eyes. He brushed it away with a grunt of frustration.
He buried his face in his hands then, gripping his skull. When would the nightmares stop? When would he stop remembering?
They said that your own corpse was the most frightening thing to see. Of course, Bjorn hadn't seen his own corpse.
No, that wasn't what terrified him.
It was that scream...
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