Rhymes with Orange (excerpt)
Hi. Wanna see what Reili has been doing instead of homework? Too bad, you're getting it anyways.
Session 1: (Quad) Fear Means Nothing
Look, I don't even know where to begin with this. I don't even know why I'm doing this in the first place. I think it might be 'cause someone promised me a year of free pudding and jello. It's also 'cause I have the best memory of this. In any case, I think we must start with the basics.
My name is Rizu. Rizu Quad, if you insist on being specific. I was born, in a bad case of karma, to parents who abandoned me on the steps of a reformatory in London. This London, I think, is not the London you are used to. There are many things I can't explain though.
So yeah. I was brought up in a reformatory when I was little. Exactly three months, four months, eight days, ten hours and 2 minutes of my life were spent in that hell. Me, a hardcore pure, against a reformatory full of streakers.
Let me explain that bit. Streakers, as I call them, are the children born with sporadically streaked hair. It is easily dyed, easy to hide, and very nearly socially acceptable. As opposed to me, a pure. I have natural platinum blond hair, which sticks out like a sore thumb against the heads of all the other children. Oh, and it goes perfectly with my light pink-purple eyes.
Not that the huge men in suits that kidnapped me were a better hell. They came out of nowhere one day. I fought when they tried to take me away. I kicked and screamed and made a big fuss ... No one came to my rescue. Honestly, one scrawny, underweight, loud-mouthed girl is hardly a match for two buff men in expensive suits. So I had to go with them.
They put me in a car and we drove until we reached the pier. We sailed for hours after that. It might have been days, I'm not sure. They drugged the food that I ate and kept me locked in a small dungeon of a room. To think all I really did was trade one hell for another, big whoop-de-doo there.
In any case, when we stopped, we reached a small island. The one that “Elusive” uses to do all their scientific crap. The suited men dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the lab. Some scrawny lab guy took me then. He had this cheesy little name tag that said “David Lynx, Genetics Department” on it and he was a real nutjob. Frickin' crazy and always saying “scientifically impossible”.
But yeah. “David Lynx” dragged me down a lovely, stark white corridor and shoved me into Room 712. And then he shut the door in my face. What a bastard! So I banged on the door until a quiet voice sighed.
“They won't,” the voice said, “let you out yet.”
I turned around and looked for the origin of the soft voice. It was coming from the far right corner, from what looked like a pile of white sheets. The pile of sheets shifted a little and rose. It was really a very tiny girl with orange eyes. And platinum blond hair.
I blinked, “Who are you? What are you? Where am I?”
She walked over, “I am Mako. I don't know what I am and you're in Room 712. Who are you?”
“They call me Rizu,” I said softly, “I know no other name.”
Mako smiled, “Hello Rizu.”
I smiled back. From the very first moment we met Mako and I were somehow connected. Most surprisingly is that Mako used to speak primarily English, instead of Japanese (like she does now). We've all changed a lot from when we first met each other.
All I really remember about my first night at the labs was that the shadows on the walls scared me shitless. Mako told me that you get used to it, that it's some sort of tactic they use to scare their captives. Frankly, I never got used to it and neither did any of the rest of the members. Mako, at the time, was so disconnected that she was numb to most feelings.
To soothe me that night, Mako told me many stories. I remember that all I could process really was the tone of her voice. I was someplace different, someplace scary. Mako was my anchor at first. To be completely truthful, she still is. The experiments those sick bastards at Elusive used us in really did a number on us. Anyone would be really screwed up after what they do to their test subjects, even the strongest of men. They certainly screwed with the psyche of four young kids.
But to them, all we were was “Project Quad”. We weren't people. It's pretty screwed up when I think back on it, but I can't change anything. Don't ever believe that “one person can change the world” bullcrap they dish out in church. Yeah, they can change the world. 'cept the only way one person can change the world is for the worse. No one kid can change the world for the better. That Jesus-junkie crap is a total load of shit.
The next few years are pretty much all the same. Endless days of torture and fear. Never-ending experiments and tests. Always being attached to some goddamn monitor thing or something. It kinda makes you wonder how the hell four scrawny kids and one nerdy lab assistant ever managed to get outta there alive. Oh, that story comes later. I think, for now, my turn is over.
Have a happy NaNoWriMo.
Session 1: (Quad) Fear Means Nothing
Look, I don't even know where to begin with this. I don't even know why I'm doing this in the first place. I think it might be 'cause someone promised me a year of free pudding and jello. It's also 'cause I have the best memory of this. In any case, I think we must start with the basics.
My name is Rizu. Rizu Quad, if you insist on being specific. I was born, in a bad case of karma, to parents who abandoned me on the steps of a reformatory in London. This London, I think, is not the London you are used to. There are many things I can't explain though.
So yeah. I was brought up in a reformatory when I was little. Exactly three months, four months, eight days, ten hours and 2 minutes of my life were spent in that hell. Me, a hardcore pure, against a reformatory full of streakers.
Let me explain that bit. Streakers, as I call them, are the children born with sporadically streaked hair. It is easily dyed, easy to hide, and very nearly socially acceptable. As opposed to me, a pure. I have natural platinum blond hair, which sticks out like a sore thumb against the heads of all the other children. Oh, and it goes perfectly with my light pink-purple eyes.
Not that the huge men in suits that kidnapped me were a better hell. They came out of nowhere one day. I fought when they tried to take me away. I kicked and screamed and made a big fuss ... No one came to my rescue. Honestly, one scrawny, underweight, loud-mouthed girl is hardly a match for two buff men in expensive suits. So I had to go with them.
They put me in a car and we drove until we reached the pier. We sailed for hours after that. It might have been days, I'm not sure. They drugged the food that I ate and kept me locked in a small dungeon of a room. To think all I really did was trade one hell for another, big whoop-de-doo there.
In any case, when we stopped, we reached a small island. The one that “Elusive” uses to do all their scientific crap. The suited men dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the lab. Some scrawny lab guy took me then. He had this cheesy little name tag that said “David Lynx, Genetics Department” on it and he was a real nutjob. Frickin' crazy and always saying “scientifically impossible”.
But yeah. “David Lynx” dragged me down a lovely, stark white corridor and shoved me into Room 712. And then he shut the door in my face. What a bastard! So I banged on the door until a quiet voice sighed.
“They won't,” the voice said, “let you out yet.”
I turned around and looked for the origin of the soft voice. It was coming from the far right corner, from what looked like a pile of white sheets. The pile of sheets shifted a little and rose. It was really a very tiny girl with orange eyes. And platinum blond hair.
I blinked, “Who are you? What are you? Where am I?”
She walked over, “I am Mako. I don't know what I am and you're in Room 712. Who are you?”
“They call me Rizu,” I said softly, “I know no other name.”
Mako smiled, “Hello Rizu.”
I smiled back. From the very first moment we met Mako and I were somehow connected. Most surprisingly is that Mako used to speak primarily English, instead of Japanese (like she does now). We've all changed a lot from when we first met each other.
All I really remember about my first night at the labs was that the shadows on the walls scared me shitless. Mako told me that you get used to it, that it's some sort of tactic they use to scare their captives. Frankly, I never got used to it and neither did any of the rest of the members. Mako, at the time, was so disconnected that she was numb to most feelings.
To soothe me that night, Mako told me many stories. I remember that all I could process really was the tone of her voice. I was someplace different, someplace scary. Mako was my anchor at first. To be completely truthful, she still is. The experiments those sick bastards at Elusive used us in really did a number on us. Anyone would be really screwed up after what they do to their test subjects, even the strongest of men. They certainly screwed with the psyche of four young kids.
But to them, all we were was “Project Quad”. We weren't people. It's pretty screwed up when I think back on it, but I can't change anything. Don't ever believe that “one person can change the world” bullcrap they dish out in church. Yeah, they can change the world. 'cept the only way one person can change the world is for the worse. No one kid can change the world for the better. That Jesus-junkie crap is a total load of shit.
The next few years are pretty much all the same. Endless days of torture and fear. Never-ending experiments and tests. Always being attached to some goddamn monitor thing or something. It kinda makes you wonder how the hell four scrawny kids and one nerdy lab assistant ever managed to get outta there alive. Oh, that story comes later. I think, for now, my turn is over.
Have a happy NaNoWriMo.