To Dream of Electric Sheep 1/3
Title: To Dream of Electric Sheep
Author: zoetrope13
Rating: PG-13 for violence/dark themes
Pairing: Arthur Gen for now, Eventual Arthur/Eames
Words: 1,000 (4,300 overall)
Fandom: Inception
Warnings: Unbeta'ed, violence, violations of human rights
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, nor do I claim to.
Summary: Arthur is severely injured while in the military. They heal him using experimental technology making him not quite so human anymore. Arthur has no idea and continues on with his life and ditches the military for the illegal side of dreamshare technology. Which is a problem because the military forgot to install a GPS tracker and they want their valuable technology back. Written for this prompt on the Inception Kink Meme.
A/N: The title is shamelessly stolen from inspired by of Philip K. Dick's novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (The movie Bladerunner was adapted from this book). This is the darkest thing I've written on here, but knowing me the fluff and cuddles will pop up eventually. This part is pretty short, but I just wanted to get it established.
Arthur looked around the dreamscape for Private Phillips, the last soldier left who had entered the combat scenario with him. There was no sign of life among the eerily realistic foliage. Arthur wiped off the blood that had started to trickle down his face with the back of the shelve of his uniform.
Either Arthur had to find and kill him or Phillips had to kill Arthur. He made himself perfectly still but heard nothing, no leaves rustling. Then above the sounds of the breeze in the trees the faint strains of the national anthem reached his ears.
For whatever reason they must be ending the scenario early. Arthur lowered his gun, pressed his hand to the wound on his head, and waited for the bizarre sensation of being jolted awake from what felt like waking life.
Arthur woke to an indistinguishable figure tall above him, dark against the florescent lights. He looked away for a minute, to the side where the research aides were busy processing the other soldiers taking notes on their experiences. He looked back once his eyes had adjusted to the harsh unnatural lighting.
It was Philips standing above him, looking down at him wordlessly. Arthur sat up and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when Philips, with some strain, picked up a heavy chair and held it up, braced against his muscular stomach.
“What are you doing?” Arthur asked, his thoughts still foggy from the somnacin still cycling through his veins.
Philips frowned slightly; a small crease appeared between his eyebrows, as though he already expected Arthur to know the answer. “I need to kill you so that we can both wake up,” He told Arthur calmly as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“But we’re awake,” Arthur said.
“Can you prove it?” Philips asked him, peering down at Arthur from around the chair he still held.
Arthur paused trying to think of something definite that would prove it.
“I knew it,” Philip said. “You’re always trying to win. Trying to trick me.” Then before Arthur could register what was happening Philips brought the chair down on him hard, bashing him repeatedly over the head and body, Arthur tried to gets away, but Philip was too fast.
Through the white-hot pain and the shouts clawing their way out of his throat Arthur registered shouting and figures rushing about. The sharp iron taste of blood filled his mouth and everything was dizzy and sideways. He heard a shot and the blows stopped, but the pain continued until he saw nothing at all.
-------
There was a pressure building, radiating out filling every sense, almost as though his brain was too big. It would expand until it cracked his skull.
There was quite extensive damage to the brain. With the technology we were able to-
His skull fracturing under the pressure. Pure agony. Help he needed….He needed…
We have already run extensive tests but there will be more rest assured. A few signals need to be fixed. But it--he will operate as a fully functionally human.
The voices? His voice? Where was…
The pressure built and he fractured open in spider web patterns.
Then cool liquid sliver ran soothingly down his hot veins.
------
Light. He blinked and dark inky spots fading out to blue and lighter dancing in front of him. The spots danced close and out of reach.
Keeping him on the same program is vital. It must be uploaded with the same memories. No discrepancies.
Dry and sour. His mouth felt dry and tasted sour. He pushed his tongue against the sharp, slick, smoothness of his teeth.
Seeing how the two technologies react. Well, we both know what that could mean.
Scratchy prickles up and down his arms. Teasing him. Wanting him to scratch them, to be tricked into motion.
Do we really? They say the human brain can behave like a computer. But can a computer behave like a human brain?
Overpowering scents of masculinity swirled through the air, a distasteful cologne he himself would never purchase.
The patterns in the light shifted. Dark shapes peering down at Arthur.
Liquid silver shot through his veins.
------
Arthur woke up in a sterile military hospital room. A nurse bustled around the room.
I need to kill you so that we can both wake up. A chair coming down, splintering open his head.
“Philips?” The sound burst out of him rough, panicked, and scratchy.
The nurse turned to look at him.
“I am Nurse Iverson. You’re finally awake.”
“What did-? Well…What was the damage?”
She moved closer to the bed looking down kindly at him. “You took quite a blow to the head. The doctors were afraid you would sustain lasting brain damage but were able to operate and stop the bleeding to save your brain function. You had four ribs broken in two places. They were also afraid that you would lose function in your left leg and arm; the nerves were damaged. But here you are, as right as rain. You were extremely lucky.”
Arthur blinked down at his white hospital sheets. “How long was I out? What’s the date?”
“It’s April 23rd.”
It had been almost a month. He had almost missed his opportunity. “When will I be discharged?”
She regarded him with an unreadable stare before looking over his chart. “Three days if everything continues normally.”
Three days would be cutting it close, but he could still make it.
“I see. Thank you.”
“I will send the doctor in shortly.”
He nodded at her and watched his hands trace random patterns on the sheets. He felt as though he didn’t quite fit in his body. But it was most likely normal to feel off after a month in a coma recovering from head trauma.
Arthur heard movement outside his door and looked up expecting to see the doctor but it was just two military men in the hall. He could see their uniforms but not their rank. The voices drifted back to him.
“What about the GPS tracker? I can’t believe it wasn’t installed that’s usually one of the first-”
“It was an oversight. Now that its up and running it’s a little late. Look, where’s it going to go? If we’re going to send it somewhere we’ll install it first.”
The doctor, a tall plain looking man, stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.
-------
Four days later, April 28th, according to plan Arthur left the military with one PASIV and met up with the Cobbs, a couple who had the most knowledge about dream-share technology outside of any military organization.
Yes, it was a betrayal of his country but he had never felt that loyal to the military to begin with. Especially not after seeing some of the things they intended to use the dream-share technology for.
Besides it wasn’t like the military would miss him much.
Part II
Author: zoetrope13
Rating: PG-13 for violence/dark themes
Pairing: Arthur Gen for now, Eventual Arthur/Eames
Words: 1,000 (4,300 overall)
Fandom: Inception
Warnings: Unbeta'ed, violence, violations of human rights
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, nor do I claim to.
Summary: Arthur is severely injured while in the military. They heal him using experimental technology making him not quite so human anymore. Arthur has no idea and continues on with his life and ditches the military for the illegal side of dreamshare technology. Which is a problem because the military forgot to install a GPS tracker and they want their valuable technology back. Written for this prompt on the Inception Kink Meme.
A/N: The title is shamelessly stolen from inspired by of Philip K. Dick's novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (The movie Bladerunner was adapted from this book). This is the darkest thing I've written on here, but knowing me the fluff and cuddles will pop up eventually. This part is pretty short, but I just wanted to get it established.
Arthur looked around the dreamscape for Private Phillips, the last soldier left who had entered the combat scenario with him. There was no sign of life among the eerily realistic foliage. Arthur wiped off the blood that had started to trickle down his face with the back of the shelve of his uniform.
Either Arthur had to find and kill him or Phillips had to kill Arthur. He made himself perfectly still but heard nothing, no leaves rustling. Then above the sounds of the breeze in the trees the faint strains of the national anthem reached his ears.
For whatever reason they must be ending the scenario early. Arthur lowered his gun, pressed his hand to the wound on his head, and waited for the bizarre sensation of being jolted awake from what felt like waking life.
Arthur woke to an indistinguishable figure tall above him, dark against the florescent lights. He looked away for a minute, to the side where the research aides were busy processing the other soldiers taking notes on their experiences. He looked back once his eyes had adjusted to the harsh unnatural lighting.
It was Philips standing above him, looking down at him wordlessly. Arthur sat up and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when Philips, with some strain, picked up a heavy chair and held it up, braced against his muscular stomach.
“What are you doing?” Arthur asked, his thoughts still foggy from the somnacin still cycling through his veins.
Philips frowned slightly; a small crease appeared between his eyebrows, as though he already expected Arthur to know the answer. “I need to kill you so that we can both wake up,” He told Arthur calmly as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“But we’re awake,” Arthur said.
“Can you prove it?” Philips asked him, peering down at Arthur from around the chair he still held.
Arthur paused trying to think of something definite that would prove it.
“I knew it,” Philip said. “You’re always trying to win. Trying to trick me.” Then before Arthur could register what was happening Philips brought the chair down on him hard, bashing him repeatedly over the head and body, Arthur tried to gets away, but Philip was too fast.
Through the white-hot pain and the shouts clawing their way out of his throat Arthur registered shouting and figures rushing about. The sharp iron taste of blood filled his mouth and everything was dizzy and sideways. He heard a shot and the blows stopped, but the pain continued until he saw nothing at all.
-------
There was a pressure building, radiating out filling every sense, almost as though his brain was too big. It would expand until it cracked his skull.
There was quite extensive damage to the brain. With the technology we were able to-
His skull fracturing under the pressure. Pure agony. Help he needed….He needed…
We have already run extensive tests but there will be more rest assured. A few signals need to be fixed. But it--he will operate as a fully functionally human.
The voices? His voice? Where was…
The pressure built and he fractured open in spider web patterns.
Then cool liquid sliver ran soothingly down his hot veins.
------
Light. He blinked and dark inky spots fading out to blue and lighter dancing in front of him. The spots danced close and out of reach.
Keeping him on the same program is vital. It must be uploaded with the same memories. No discrepancies.
Dry and sour. His mouth felt dry and tasted sour. He pushed his tongue against the sharp, slick, smoothness of his teeth.
Seeing how the two technologies react. Well, we both know what that could mean.
Scratchy prickles up and down his arms. Teasing him. Wanting him to scratch them, to be tricked into motion.
Do we really? They say the human brain can behave like a computer. But can a computer behave like a human brain?
Overpowering scents of masculinity swirled through the air, a distasteful cologne he himself would never purchase.
The patterns in the light shifted. Dark shapes peering down at Arthur.
Liquid silver shot through his veins.
------
Arthur woke up in a sterile military hospital room. A nurse bustled around the room.
I need to kill you so that we can both wake up. A chair coming down, splintering open his head.
“Philips?” The sound burst out of him rough, panicked, and scratchy.
The nurse turned to look at him.
“I am Nurse Iverson. You’re finally awake.”
“What did-? Well…What was the damage?”
She moved closer to the bed looking down kindly at him. “You took quite a blow to the head. The doctors were afraid you would sustain lasting brain damage but were able to operate and stop the bleeding to save your brain function. You had four ribs broken in two places. They were also afraid that you would lose function in your left leg and arm; the nerves were damaged. But here you are, as right as rain. You were extremely lucky.”
Arthur blinked down at his white hospital sheets. “How long was I out? What’s the date?”
“It’s April 23rd.”
It had been almost a month. He had almost missed his opportunity. “When will I be discharged?”
She regarded him with an unreadable stare before looking over his chart. “Three days if everything continues normally.”
Three days would be cutting it close, but he could still make it.
“I see. Thank you.”
“I will send the doctor in shortly.”
He nodded at her and watched his hands trace random patterns on the sheets. He felt as though he didn’t quite fit in his body. But it was most likely normal to feel off after a month in a coma recovering from head trauma.
Arthur heard movement outside his door and looked up expecting to see the doctor but it was just two military men in the hall. He could see their uniforms but not their rank. The voices drifted back to him.
“What about the GPS tracker? I can’t believe it wasn’t installed that’s usually one of the first-”
“It was an oversight. Now that its up and running it’s a little late. Look, where’s it going to go? If we’re going to send it somewhere we’ll install it first.”
The doctor, a tall plain looking man, stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.
-------
Four days later, April 28th, according to plan Arthur left the military with one PASIV and met up with the Cobbs, a couple who had the most knowledge about dream-share technology outside of any military organization.
Yes, it was a betrayal of his country but he had never felt that loyal to the military to begin with. Especially not after seeing some of the things they intended to use the dream-share technology for.
Besides it wasn’t like the military would miss him much.
Part II