backstory ;; Have you ever felt... unreal? The question was one that often came up in their head, causing them to look at their hands and wonder how much of them was truly artificial. The thing is, their mind was one thing unbound by coding. They couldn't possibly bear the idea of being an AI, shaped by another living creature. They didn't like the idea of their thoughts not being their own.
They've been through a lot. A childhood, with parents and family. Days of being a child, rough-housing with their siblings and chasing each other, competing for the first slice of blueberry pie. Playing tug-of-war with the house dog, a Border Collie they named Spot despite not having any actual spots. Sleepovers with friends and stargazing through the window on the second floor, shushing each other and hoping they didn't get caught sneaking to the snacks cabinet. This childhood wasn't devoid of pain, though. Your average schoolhouse bully, pushing you over and causing you to spill your food onto the floor. Quarrels between family members over mundane things, eventually turning into heated arguments, high-pitched voices and slammed doors. Broken glass, broken mementos, broken friendships, broken hearts. They pulled through, though.
They've been through a lot. Growing up, with colleagues and mentors. Getting a job, learning to live in their own apartment, meeting up with old friends, throwing parties over achievements they never thought they would gain. Taking their old dog Spot to the vet, learning that he would only have a few years left, something to do with arthritis and age. Getting a call from their best friend in elementary school; one of their classmates passed away recently. They didn't really know him, but they attended their funeral, offered words that were farmed not from memory but from social expectations. What others would have wanted them to say. They moved houses, finding a significant other and making plans for the near future. Sorting out their financial needs and wondering if they wanted children eventually.
They've been through a lot. Many a painful blow to the heart. Each one a paper cut to their fragile skin. Eventually, everyone had to say goodbye. First it was their loyal hound, Spot, so weak on the trip to the vet that they were sure he wouldn't even make it to the emergency room. He slipped away in his sleep the morning after. Then their grandparent, a heart attack one morning that took place when no one was there to notice. Then an old friend, in a car accident that caused her to leave too soon. She had an entire life set out, a success she would now never gain. One by one, these deaths just happened. They tried to ignore it, hoping that they would live to see their golden years. Of course, life had other plans for them.
They've been through a lot. Having to resort to thievery. Ever since their financial issues arose and they found themselves within a circle of several criminals, they ended up working within a complicated network of them. They learned all sorts of techniques, having taken up martial arts a few years behind. They quickly rose to the top, though it was not without sacrifice. Their significant other soon realized they were up to no good, returning home with rolls of money in their pocket every few weeks. As much as they tried to explain, their love wanted none of it, being so judgmental as to shut the door in their face right after. They wanted to give up after that, but they felt like it was time to reform their life plans. They didn't last long though.
They've been through a lot. They never thought they would have to endure a painful death, though. It involved a slippery, frosty highway, eyes half-open through help from caffeine, a late-night drive that could have been avoided if only their dignity was below their rationality. A loose grip on the wheel and a mind too busy pondering about how to afford this month's apartment rent without having to steal was what led to the end. Then they blacked out, and then... nothing.
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"Funnily enough," they say, sipping the tea you set in front of them, "When I woke up, I felt young again. I was only 25 when the accident happened, but I almost felt like a child." They set down the teacup again, shifting in their seat. "I've been on the run since then. A lot of people are looking for me and I only have a few people to name who I can trust at this point — and even fewer who trust me for what I say." They raised an eyebrow, tapping their fingers on the table. "But I suppose trust issues was an occupational hazard at this point."
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What do you think of when you wake after death? Now, they weren't religious per se, but waking up again made them wonder if they were really in heaven. It turns out that the cold crackling lights above them and the uncomfortably warm tiled floor beneath them were nothing like a peaceful release. In fact, they felt like the opposite. They cowered, at the same time wondering why they looked so different. With the faint reflection the tiles could offer, they could see their face was different, their ears were different, everything about them was different. There was a number of tubes attached to them - their muzzle, their left wrist, one that looped around their neck and snaked up their head, connected to aforementioned muzzle. Another thing they realized after a few minutes of orientation - they weren't breathing.
It took them a few hours to get up to speed. Apparently all this was one huge illegal project; why weren't they surprised? Some crazy maniac was the head of this all, trying to prove the versatility of living minds, and yet they had no better of a test dummy than a car crash victim on the side of the road. Upon trying to process all this information, they obviously struggled. They were rapidly remembering and forgetting memories, popping up in their head before fading away in obscurity again. Blurred images, blurred faces. One memory that wouldn't shake off them was a recent one, though. Being dragged through the corridors in chains, past a cell similar to theirs that said "Experiment 001" in glowing red letters. When they stared at the open gate of the cell, their face got a painful slap. They were told not to think of it, which of course led to the opposite.
The few days after were simply of them thinking. Sometimes a neon glow would appear on their paw. Sometimes laser lights and sparks danced on their tongue. They wanted to know how much of them was artificial. Presumably a lot — they didn't know much about this, since they were mostly here for "experiments" and "testing," but they knew they were at least in their right mind, with correct memories... or so they hoped. Hearing the conversations of his captors hopefully convinced them about that. They didn't need to breathe or eat. On the second week of "observation" they were subjected to what would have been mutilation, but they didn't feel any pain when they literally cut their paw off. They merely got it attached again, the wires fusing back as they were put into place.
Eventually, more "Experiments" were brought in. They heard say of a 003, a 004, even a 006. They had no idea what was happening to these experiments, however. They never met any of them, but as their thought delved further into their own situation, they began to see a glimmer of hope. With their captors having more on their hands, perhaps they could think up an escape plan... or try to get themselves to pull another 001, who apparently escaped before 002 was brought in.
For once, they were actually thankful for their skills in thievery.
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They drained the teacup and placed it on the table once more, straightening and looking at you gratefully. "I've stayed too long," they murmured, already getting up. It was dark outside. "Thank you for your time," they said, bowing. The bow on their neck bounced slightly, and you could see the number 002 printed clearly on the card it was attached to. Right after that, they were out the door, gone before you could say another word.
by allinian » Mon May 16, 2016 1:03 am 
