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Author Topic: Renegade Minds (Rummy Tum Tum, Madame Professor, and Zacharaichu)  (Read 404 times)

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Online Rummy Tum TumTopic starter

Renegade Minds is an RP based mostly around the theme of human connection. The main characters of this RP were born with the gift of supernatural empathy, courtesy of a brain anomaly. There are a number people born with this gift- few in the world at large- but they all have the ability to connect with one another. Once they create a link between their minds, they are able to share knowledge, emotions, and memories; speak telepathically to one another over vast distances; and even swap minds for a limited time when permission is given. In most cases, one must meet or be exposed to another of their kind to establish a connection, but there are also groups who are bound together without that necessity. They are Kindred. Within these Kindred groups, their abilities and their connection are strengthened for better and worse. They feel when each other are in danger, lonely, hurt, or dying. At times they may visit one another in consciousness or in dreams without meaning to, pulled together by a deeply subconscious urging.

In most of the world, due to the rarity and subtlety of their gifts- which at worst can make them appear more insane than gifted- they are able to blend in rather easily. However, in the country of Opral, ruled by a totalitarian government, things are different. The leaders of this country know of these gifted, and have used lies, fear mongering tactics, and murder on a massive scale to convince its citizens that those born with this brain anomaly-- called the Inflicted-- are fated to become violently and irretrievably insane before dying of an aneurysm. They mass produced brain scanners that all citizens age twenty-three and older are subjected to on a bi-monthly schedule, as the anomaly is only detectable at that age and once one's abilities have activated. When one is found, they are said to be brought to a research facility to be studied in hopes of finding a cure, but cannot be visited. Those found harboring one of the Inflicted are arrested and sent to a correctional and reconditioning facility, where criminals and rebels are most often found wasting away. The characters of this RP have lived their lives inside this country, dealing with its mass surveillance and oppression in whatever way they could, but after one fateful and illegal broadcast, their lives will change forever.
« Last Edit: July 20, 2016, 01:59:15 AM by Rummy Tum Tum »

Online Rummy Tum TumTopic starter

Re: Renegade Minds (Rummy Tum Tum, Madame Professor, and Zacharaichu)
« Reply #1 on: July 19, 2016, 11:21:38 PM »

There is a crackling sound as the broadcast you were watching or otherwise listening to is interrupted. On television screens, a person of lithe form appears standing, face covered by a pale and faceless mask. A hood covers its hair and its dark clothing covers every inch of skin that would be in view. It's not until you hear the voice that you are able to figure it to be a man.

"Hello people, thanks for tuning in to my broadcast-- or more specifically standing by while I hijack your regularly scheduled television and radio programs. You may call me Freedom Freddy. It is my unofficial job to bring the truth to you, the masses. I do implore you to listen very carefully. Let my voice guide you to the understanding you are so in need of. Let it wake you up, it is far past time.

Now, as we all know, the government of our great nation of Opral is led by powerful, wealthy, vainglorious, pompous, tyrannical bastards. Worst of all being President Anthony Broughton. Funny, at this point we may as well call him what he is: a dictator. For 20 years he has been running the country deeper into the dark, unchecked and unopposed in spite of those who run against him. Not even our nation's laws can unseat him. Two five year terms. That is meant to be the limit, and yet he's been at the reigns for twice that time. Twenty years too long if you ask me. But I digress. As we all well know, you can't usually get away with saying these things aloud. Speaking ill of those in charge is punishable by imprisonment and 'reconditioning' at the very least. But that is where I come in! I speak the truth for those who cannot, and I fully accept the risks so that you won't have to. We've been fed lies for so many years, people, some of us for our entire lives. I'm here to enlighten those who are willing to listen.

Now we all have been subjected to the many restrictions; invasive searches and scans; acts of oppression and suppression; and general invasions of privacy the government's been dishing out for the past 20 years. There are plenty of us who remember a time when freedom reigned and people felt safe and able to express themselves, or at least we should. It does get fuzzy sometimes. Now I know there are those of you who feel safer knowing that the government has implemented regularized full brain scans and an abundance of surveillance because it helps sort the 'Inflicted' from the healthy, and aids them in finding those 'Inflicted' who try to evade captivity. Now we were taught to think that the Inflicted are the unfortunate few in our country who were born with a disease that will eventually lead them to madness. A violent, uncontrollable madness that invariably results in death and injury to all those around them. The horrifying epidemic which came to a head a little over 22 years ago was certainly and terribly regrettable, but I have discovered evidence. Evidence that this outbreak of mayhem was not due to an unfortunate brain disease. It was a carefully orchestrated act of terrorism! These brain anomalies the president and his lackeys have been searching for have nothing in common with the particular anomalies in those who went mad so long ago. In fact, reports- buried reports that were so very difficult to find- have shown that their brains were chemically damaged beyond repair. Now why would the government that leads and protects us hide this from us? What do they need with the 'Inflicted' they so casually persecute? These are good questions to ask yourselves, but even better, to ask them. It is time for things to change people. It is time for you to wake up. You will hear from me again soon. Maybe not in this medium. I'm afraid our time is up. Know that you are not alone. Good day."

As the man's voice falls into a dulcet trail from existence, you feel something click inside your mind. An odd sort of understanding. Something has changed. For better or worse, you cannot tell, but it is a change you know cannot be undone. You do not feel alone, even if you are. Uneasiness creeps its way into your heart, and grows exponentially until it turns to panic. You do what you can to regain your composure, but it is a fruitless endeavor. Eventually, darkness overtakes you. When you open your eyes, you are not where you were before. You are not anywhere you recognize. In the darkness, you feel the presence of others but cannot see them. Before you can even begin to comprehend what is happening, a figure appears far before the invisible crowd. It is showered in light, but a pale white mask obfuscates its face anyway. All that you can see is that this faraway figure is clad in a dark suit.

"...Hello. I'll start by explaining some things. For one, you are not dead nor dreaming. You are all, let's say, making a visit to my head space, and I am broadcasting a message to you all. I can't...ahem. I can't speak to you all on a more personal level just now. That kind of concentration is beyond me, or any person I'd say. So you're just going to have're just gonna have to listen. You're here because we all share a certain brain anomaly. We are what they call Inflicted, but like I said, we're not crazy, or as doomed as you think. We are gifted. We can connect to each other in ways a normal human could never imagine... Some of us are more connected than others. In fact I'm sure you'll meet your kindred soon. I was able to... connect to you all mostly through your own subconscious effort... I. Ahem. I am sorry that I forced your natural awakening along, but I had little choice. We, that is the Gifted ones who have already-- awoken to their abilities... We have been fighting to survive outside the government's grasp. They use those of us they claim to contain. They manipulate and control us so that our gifts benefit them. We rebel...but there is not much so few of us could do. This is a controlled awakening...and a recruitment drive. We are The Network. We fight so that we may all be free, but we need help. You don't have to answer now. I couldn't hear you if you did. Please think on it. Even should you decide not to aid us, I would ask that you lie low. We have ways to get you out of the country, and we will fight tooth and nail to keep you safe. You will be able to contact us here. As a bonus, it will prove you're not going insane."

There is a long silence. You are able to feel the weariness and waning mental focus of the man before you, though he stands stoic and calm as ever. Suddenly, a flash of a memory hits you. It shows gloved fingers typing away at a keyboard. You look up and the screen before you shows a web browser. The address bar has a peculiar url filled in. A finger hits the enter key, and you feel a distant wave of elation as the subject of this memory gains access to a dark net website dedicated to the rebellion.

"It will be awhile until the next brain scans take place, but still, be careful. Good luck."
« Last Edit: July 20, 2016, 01:59:30 AM by Rummy Tum Tum »

Online Rummy Tum TumTopic starter

Re: Renegade Minds (Rummy Tum Tum, Madame Professor, and Zacharaichu)
« Reply #2 on: July 19, 2016, 11:23:06 PM »

The RP is set in a somewhat futuristic time period. In the year 2052. There are robots roaming around. Most are simple, but some sport advanced ai. Bionics exist which replace and even improve on human parts. The better, the more expensive, of course. Voice activated devices and luxury gadgets run rampant. Many prefer to access the internet, and their cell phones and other gadgets via a device that can be worn on the wrist or placed on a flat surface. It creates an interactive hologram for a screen, and can also be voice controlled. Virtual Reality has become a massive industry, used quite often in movies, video games, and even pornography. Opral is a large country which has exports mostly in technology and imports mostly of produce. It is filled with great and sprawling cities, wherein almost impossibly tall skyscrapers are not an uncommon sight. It is a wealthy nation, and its citizens are capable of living relatively rich, luxurious lifestyles, so long as they comply. There is no right to challenge the government or its policies. No right to speak ill of them in a public forum, or to incite protests. There is no right to even wander the streets late at night without a work license detailing your permission to do so. These rights were signed away during the years of fear after the Inflicted epidemic. News broadcasts and papers are so heavily edited and corrupted by the time they reach citizens that they may as well be different stories altogether. Even the internet is highly surveilled and controlled. Only those with the technical skill and luck to access the Dark Net may roam it freely. Of course, under such strict living conditions, there are bound to be rebels. Whether their intentions are good or bad, those found to be rebels are detained and arrested for years at a time. There are a few criminal groups intelligent and well connected enough to survive across the many cities of Opral. They have made a living off of the fearful and passive nature of the average citizen, and are as ruthless as they are effective.
« Last Edit: July 20, 2016, 01:59:42 AM by Rummy Tum Tum »

Online Rummy Tum TumTopic starter

Re: Renegade Minds (Rummy Tum Tum, Madame Professor, and Zacharaichu)
« Reply #3 on: July 20, 2016, 01:25:19 AM »

Code: [Select]

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]My name:[/color] Self-explanatory.

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]My work[/color]: Occupation
[color=POSTINGCOLOR2]I can:[/color] Your skills. Ya know, like if you are technically inclined or agile or charismatic or a good fighter etc. Needless to say, in most cases, your skills should be explainable by your history.

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]Age:[/color] Self-explanatory.

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]Gender:[/color] Self-explanatory.

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]Sexuality :[/color] Self-explanatory.
[color=POSTINGCOLOR2]Partner:[/color] (Put N/A if there is no one.)

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]My body:[/color] Height/Weight

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]My colors:[/color] Hair/Eye colors

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]My marks:[/color] Tattoos/scars/piercings/bionics

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]Weapons:[/color] Who's to say you can't carry around a little protection. Well, aside from the law. Best keep it small and hidden.

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1]Personality:[/color] Tell me about yourself. You are free to keep secrets, but five sentences here at least.
[color=POSTINGCOLOR2]Likes:[/color] Paragraph or list form is fine. Five minimum.
[color=POSTINGCOLOR2]Dislikes:[/color] Paragraph or list form is fine. Five minimum.
[color=POSTINGCOLOR2]Fears: [/color]Paragraph or list form is fine. Two minimum.

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1][b]History[/b]:[/color] What brought you here. Feel free to keep some secrets, and to PM if you have any secret related questions. Make this section two paragraphs at least, however.

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1][b]Miscellaneous[/b]:[/color] Is there anything that should be noted that doesn't fit anywhere else? If not, put N/A.

[color=POSTINGCOLOR1][b]Handler[/b]:[/color] Your username

Salizar Eckhardt

My name: Salizar Wayne Eckhardt.

My work:  Salizar sometimes works an odd job or two for his family, but ultimately survives on his parents' money.
I can: Salizar is naturally agile, perhaps in part due to his smaller frame. He has practiced in parkour, and became somewhat adept at it before becoming tired of dealing with his trainer and quitting. He has also been to the gun range on a few occasions, a benefit of his family's connections, no doubt. Most citizens would not be permitted to handle a firearm under any circumstance. He is skilled at manipulating others, and his charisma is well known.

Age: Twenty-three.

Gender: Male.

Sexuality : Pansexual.
Partner: Got bored of the last one.

My body: 6'1"/159 lbs

My colors: Black/Green

My marks: A vertical scar across his left eye. A tattoo on the right side of his upper back.

Weapons: A customized taser designed to look like a vintage early 2000 era cellular phone. Not uncommon for an Eckhardt family member to carry around.

Personality: Salizar appears to be a man of principle, and a kind individual in spite of his gruesome scar. He behaves in a way the he perceives the people around him wish for him to behave, and enjoys the reward from his efforts. He thrives on attention and affection, and is thoroughly pleased when his so called friends go out of their way to aid and entertain him. He takes little seriously, including people, and only keeps those he can use around. His tastes can lead heavily toward the sadistic, and his humor can be disturbingly dark. He doesn't see his personality as a defect, but and advantage-- well, save for on those odd nights when he realizes how alone he is, but alcohol cures that.
Hard work
Being around people for too long
People as good as he pretends to be
Small dogs
Fears: Salizar fears letting people in, as they would undoubtedly learn what he is really like, and-- if past experience tells him anything-- they would despise him for it. He fears death as most do. He also has a tiny fear of beggars and clowns.

History: Salizar was born into the wealthy Eckhardt family. They ran the leading industry of robotics and biotechnology worldwide, Novatell. Growing up, Salizar was a relatively happy and carefree boy, though quite a bit of a loner. He was no angel, as children do have a tendency to be cruel, but his nanny Mathilda was quick to correct his behavior. He'd always idolized her, despite having parents whose work brought much to not only their pockets, but to the world. She was wise and caring, albeit strict. His parents on the other hand were more concerned with appearances, and demanded much from the boy. He had to excel in everything he did, as that led to reward. Failure led to punishment. Sadly, the rift between Salizar and his parents grew exponentially as he grew older and far less motivated to please. Eventually, Mathilda was blamed for it and fired. Salizar always wondered if that was merely a punishment for him. Fortunately for all involved, his parents finally gave up on him becoming the next head of the family by the time he was fifteen, and moved on to placing all their pressure on his younger sister. She had always been better behaved and smarter than him. They had never gotten along well. Perhaps it started when he was twelve and she was eight, and he was allowed to name the pony she'd gotten for her birthday. Glue Fair was much too funny to pass up.

No longer being groomed to lead, Salizar was placed on the back burner. Once he reached young adulthood, he would be given unfairly high positions within the company, and squandered these gifts at every opportunity. He had no interest in corporate life, but grew increasingly interested in finding pleasure for himself. He had no responsibilities of note, and thoroughly enjoyed this freedom. He focused on new things, such as parkour and socializing. Both were difficult and tiring, but in time he found that both brought him great excitement and pleasure. When he started out, he found he disliked spending time with people, and they with him. He did not care about their problems or their likes, and grew bored-- even exhausted-- dealing with them. However, in time, he found that tricking and lying to people was as exhilarating as leaping across rooftops. He played the part of a dazzling prince, but was ever the cruel jester inside. They ate up his lies and gave him their love and devotion in turn. It barely took any effort, so long as he was clever enough. Social maneuvering, he decided, was his cup of tea.

Tired of his laziness, lack of responsibility, and the trouble he tended to cause for them, his parents fell to their last resort by the time he turned twenty-one and slowly began introducing him to the shadier side of the company. All his life, he'd thought they were legitimate professionals who just happened to be on the cold side. In truth, they were much more coldblooded than he'd thought. They had been working with the government on more than just providing equipment for bionics related healthcare, scanners to aid in finding all kinds of diseases, and robots to provide much needed services. They were integral to aiding in surveillance of the country at large, and in developing weaponized robotic prototypes for government use.

Salizar, instead of being groomed to be the face of the company, would learn to aid the future leader in its more amoral endeavors. He would accompany shipments and spectate on secret rendezvous with government envoys. It was during one of these meetings when the team he was a part of was ambushed by masked individuals clad in dark clothing. Their masks were all pale as the moon in the sky that night, but all had differing expressions. Some were tepid, some were exaggerated to the extreme. He received his scar in that attack, and was also rendered unconscious for the first time. When he awoke, the leader of his team was gone, and several of the people from the meeting were dead. It took him awhile to get over that incident, but in time he was able to make a joke of it. It helped him cope. He dedicated himself less to servicing the company from that point, but would do work for them from time to time. His most important job was to keep everything he knew a secret.

Miscellaneous: I'll never tell...

Handler: Rummy Tum Tum

Roxanne Hudson

My name: Dr. Roxanne Diana Hudson.

My work: Resident at Perilia State General Hospital.
I can: Roxanne is an intelligent and creative thinker, able to solve problems with relative quickness, so long as anxiety or her overthinking nature doesn't distract her. Her medical training affords her expertise in treating injuries. She has practiced judo for years and won a few competitions-- one international-- but has never used it on another person in an actual fight.

Age: Twenty-eight.

Gender: Female.

Sexuality : Homosexual.
Partner: Leila.

My body: 5'6"/128 lbs

My colors: Brown/Dull gray

My marks: Nothing that hasn't healed.

Weapons: Your standard can of mace.

Personality: Roxanne is introverted and somewhat anxious in general. From her quietness, somber expression and curt way of expressing herself, one might think she was cold and rude. In truth, despite her seemingly cold reception of new people, she is very kindhearted and caring to the point of being altruistic. She loves humor, ranging from terrible puns and dripping sarcasm to extensive philosophical and intelligent jokes. However, she only really shows her more silly side to those she trusts. Speaking of trust, she has an issue in that regard, and as much as she hates not trusting easily, she has not been able to manage to get past it. She has an affinity for knowledge, and loves learning about a large variety of things. If she becomes intoxicated, her personality shifts into a more wacky and outgoing state, but she does tend to go to far.
Helping others
Being around strangers
The temptation of alcohol
Interacting with strangers, especially groups of people

History: Roxanne was born into a small family in the relatively small countryside of Opral. Her family owned a farm, which had been in the family for generations and made them a good amount of money. She doesn't remember much from the first happy five years of her life with her father, mother, and older brother, but the two years after she could never forget. It was a long drought that brought the family down into a financial crisis. Roxanne's father had been an avid gambler, and could not tear himself from this addiction. even in such desperate times. He'd even convinced himself that he would win a huge amount of money and save their farm if he continued gambling long enough. Unsurprisingly, this only put the family deeper in debt. As things became more hectic, the family began to tear itself apart. Arguments were an almost daily thing between her parents, and while her father gambled constantly, her mother drank just as much. Her older brother was left to take care of her, and though he tried not to show his resentment at the matter, being a young adult saddled with such responsibility didn't afford him too much in the way of patience and emotional control. He did try his best, however, and she'd always loved him for it.

When things became very bad, her father finally took out a loan from the only people who would give it to him, a rather prominent criminal organization who were-- for better or worse-- convinced that the farm would bring them money for a long time when it recovered. Good farmers tended to make plenty of money in this country, and this family had a long record of success. Funnily enough, Roxanne liked these people when she first met them. They always wore a smile, fancy clothes, and-- most importantly-- they offered help to her family. Things did become better for awhile. Even the weather turned for the better. However, their luck ran out once again in time, and their debt to the organization became unpayable. Upset by this, they reacted in the way that thugs tend to, no matter how sophisticated. Roxanne's father always tried to hide his injuries from his children, pretending to be fine despite how bloodied or broken his body became. In the end, the organization became tired of the charade, and murdered Roxanne's family in the night. Roxanne recalls the last words each of her parents and her brother said to her that day. She recalled sitting before their bloody carcasses, tears streaming down her face, her voice escaping her so effectively that even her sobs were hoarse and twisted. This memory would forever be a dark spot in her mind.

Like other orphans, she was placed in foster care. For the first few years, due to her lasting traumatized state, she was not very well accepted. She would almost never speak, and operated in a detached state. She only ever seemed alive and normal while drawing or doing schoolwork by her lonesome. It was fascinating to her how people often tended to show their true, ugly colors to the quiet and distant. After all, who would they tell? She was insulted by a few of her caregivers. Called worthless, retarded. Yelled at, struck. Even once she had finally begun speaking more frequently, she still held a deep fear and mistrust in her heart. After what she had experienced, and after hearing about the other terrible things that happened to children while in foster homes, she sometimes felt glad that no one wanted her for long. At the age of thirteen, she met another girl in foster care. Instantly, she felt a strange connection toward her. There was something about her that captivated Roxanne, and curiosity bade her to learn more about her. Her name was Sasha. What most saw when they looked at her was her poor and sometimes violent behavior, but she was very kind to Roxanne. When they were together, they both behaved much better. Unfortunately, they weren't able to be taken in by the same foster parents, and were separated. At fourteen Roxanne was brought in by and taken care of by a middle aged couple who seemed quite nice. However, trust was a hard won thing for her. Surprisingly, they not only put up with, but accepted her introverted nature, and were patient and caring despite the clear fact that she seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Eventually, she allowed herself to believe that things truly were okay, and came out of the hardened shell she'd spent so long reinforcing. Her and her foster father would crack silly jokes together, cook, and watch cheesy action shows. With her foster mother, she would play old videogames, and read and discuss novels, scientific magazines, and interesting trivia. She did very well in school, and though she didn't make many friends, she kept the ones she did have close. Everything was perfect. So perfect, in fact, that she was formally adopted by this couple after not too long.

Roxanne took an interest in judo when she was sixteen. She practiced hard, and though she felt sore and exhausted after classes, she persevered. In three years' time, she became quite proficient in the martial art. She would study it tirelessly in her free time. She loved the power she could wield through sheer technique and skill. With enough hard work and skill, she believed she could triumph over any opponent. She proved her mettle quite effectively when she won her first state championship. She next placed second in her first national championship. Being the perfectionist she was, she only took her failure to secure first place as a challenge. It was difficult juggling her first years of university and judo, but one might say she managed well enough. She won her next national championship, and was even accepted into an international tournament. It was a largely tedious effort to get the passport and paperwork required to travel out of Opral for the tournament, but she remembered the trip being a surreal, yet very pleasant experience all around. It was held in the country of Deras, which was known for its natural beauty and very liberal laws relative to Opral. She and her parents spent a wonderful few weeks in that country, and still have pictures to remember it by. As for the tournament itself, it was a difficult and sometimes uphill battle, but she did come out victorious. The happiness she felt then could not be explained. Nor could the exhaustion.

Roxanne had her first drink when she turned twenty-one. She didn't handle it very well. She was quite the lightweight. A year later, on the night of winning this international championship, she went all out. The night was long and the feeling was amazing. She'd wished it never ended, especially after it had and the sickness kicked in. They enjoyed the rest of their vacation in Deras before returning to the home country with many fond-- and a few embarrassing-- memories.

Things went as usual back home, but now she began to see just how strictly regulated everything was in her country. How watchful and punishing the government truly acted. It was a chilling, depressing thing. What saddened her most was that she hadn't very well noticed how bad things were before. Perhaps it was because she was born and raised in this country, or perhaps it was because she was too busy focusing on herself. Everything seemed duller around her, and she turned to the thing that had never failed to make her feel good. She began drinking more, and sometimes went out to clubs. When she drank, she became like a social butterfly, and would talk to anyone and everyone that struck her interest. In one of these clubs, she met a woman by the name of Leila. She had flowing red hair and enchanting green eyes. Roxanne was awestruck. Leila was at first put off by her awkward and inebriated parlance, but the odd and interesting things coming from her mouth eventually wore her down and snared her attention. The two hit it off. Their first official date was awkward and an embarrassment Roxanne doubts she'll ever lived down. However, even after that, and even after learning of her introverted side, Leila wanted to remain.

Their relationship was a happy one, though there were the normal bumps in the road. Roxanne had turned a lot of her focus on getting her medical degree, a stepping stone to eventually becoming a doctor and helping those in need. The busyness and the stress that came with it was a recurring source of arguments. She is not proud of some of the things she said in those fights; the way she patronized Leila for her lack of education, careless ways, and failure to commit herself to producing art that would bring in money. It was her drinking problem, however, that grew and grew until it became a huge crater. By twenty-four, she had gone from drinking for fun, to drinking just to relieve stress, feel better, or go out and interact with people in the world. She'd turned to alcohol to solve all of her problems, and in so doing, made it her biggest one. It was an intervention that gave her the clarity and drive needed to enter a rehabilitation center. Seeing her ever joyful father and cool and collected mother shed tears over her brought pain to her heart. With her girlfriend and parents supporting her, she made the resolve to quit this dependency, no matter the cost. But as resolved as she was the first day, it quickly became frustratingly difficult not to drink. She craved it, she needed it. Not drinking made her physically ill. She was suffering because of the drink, but that did not stop her from wanting to partake. She exited the facility after half a year, and redoubled her efforts to strengthen her relationships with her loved ones. Although she did try her hardest, there were times when she simply could not resist. Years passed, and though she slipped up sometimes, she somehow managed not to fall as deep as she had before. She recently obtained her medical degree, albeit two years after she'd originally planned, and was-- much to her surprise and glee-- accepted into a residency in robot-assisted general surgery.

Why Leila proposed to her-- pledged her entire life to her-- she would never truly understand. However, she surely would not refuse. Leila was kind and gentle, but also straightforward to the point of bluntness. She was an artist, capable of creating beautiful and blissful landscapes as well as dark, dreary, and even gruesome pieces. She had a crude sense of humor that Roxanne found quite enjoyable. She was supportive, passionate, helpful and talkative. And even though she had a temper, she never could hold a grudge for long. She was closer to perfection than Roxanne could ever hope for. They have been happily married for a year now.

Miscellaneous: Roxanne enjoys singing, but only when alone-- and on rare occasions-- around her most loved ones. She also tends to nervously finish her sentences with "yeah?" when rambling, especially to strangers.

Handler: Rummy Tum Tum

Lilith Eden

My name: Lilith Marley Eden

My work: Performer/Illusionist/Hustler.
I can: Though Lilith dislikes the term, They cannot deny that They are a hustler. They have a quick wit, and even quicker hands. With the help of Their animatronic spider Remy, They could pick your pocket twice before you found the queen of hearts. Most often, though, They prefer to actually perform. They've become a very adept magician/illusionist over the years, graduating from pulling clockwork rabbits from top hats to making rain flow backwards. Many of Their illusions are dependent upon devices that Kriati has made, but the woman is usually more than happy to help. Most of Their skills lies in Their nimble fingers and Their ability to distract Their audience. They have been trying Their hand at hypnotism lately, but there is a lot of room for improvement.

Age: Twenty-six.

Gender: Lilith identifies as genderfluid and uses gender neutral (They/Them/Their) pronouns. Some days they present more masculine, other days more feminine. Either way, they are androgynous enough that they are often mistaken for both male and female in the same day.

Sexuality : Pansexual.
Partner: N/A.

My body: 5'5"/130 lbs

My colors: Silver-Grey/Lavender

My marks: Lilith has the left side of Their bottom lip pierced and a Monroe on the opposite side. They also have Their right eyebrow pierced and two cartilage piercings on the ear on the same side. When They were much younger, and much stupider, They got a jagged heart tattooed beneath Their right eye. They usually pretend that it's stage make-up for Their performances.

Weapons: Remy is equipped with hidden blades enough to ensure safety.

Personality: Though Lilith uses the word "eccentric," most people would call Them neurotic, possibly even psychotic. They believe that the government has implanted a chip in Their brain, mostly because of the inner voices that They've been hearing since Their father died. The device is malfunctioning, though, which is why Kriati insists that They never attend the bi-monthly brain scans. They continue holding onto this fallacy, despite having been told multiple times about the truth of the Inflicted. Along with this, They also speak compulsively in rhymes. Strange behaviours aside, Lilith is also a very friendly person, one who would give you the shirt of Their back with one hand, all while stealing your wallet with the other. The years They spent trying to make it on Their own taught Them that everything comes at a price. Whatever help was offered came with the expectation of reciprocation. There are those, of course, who Lilith truly trust, and with Their trust comes fierce loyalty.
-A quiet night after a long day
-Rainy days
-Purple and green
-Concrete and metal
-The "Upper Class"
-Any government officials, including people They merely suspect to be government officials
-Both the colour orange and the fruit.
-The Government
-Going insane
-Most figures of authority

History: Lilith was born into a troupe of traveling street performers. For years the group traversed the country of Naave, going wherever the money was. They rented rooms, usually at weekly intervals, to house the family of fifteen while they worked the city they were in. Once the money ran out, they moved onto the next city. Though they consider each other family, the only members of the troupe that were actually related were Lilith and Their parents. Still, the group was close knit enough that their bond transcended blood.

The members of the troupe-- not including Lilith-- spanned in age from late teens to early fifties. Most of the younger members were apprentices that had been disowned by their blood relatives and taken in by the troupe. Others were looking for adventure when they joined, and some were simply die hard performers. A few, Lilith's parents included, were full blooded anarchists, and being a member of the group was part of their attempt to dismantle the status quo and avoid the government eye. Despite their differences, each member of the group did their part to ensure that everyone was happy and healthy.

As the years wore on, Lilith's family traded their weekly room rentals for cardboard sheets scattered across fenced off streets. The less gifted performers got more permanent jobs, while the most gifted turned every performance into a con. Even on their best days, the troupe was nowhere near as prosperous as they had been in previous years. Eventually, as most other traveling performers do, Lilith's family decided to move to Opral. The country was rich, but dull; the perfect place for street performers to earn top dollar. The decision was nearly unanimous, receiving protest from only one member of the family: Lilith's father. His reasons for arguing were vague, and he quickly gave in to the wishes of the group and changed his vote to yes.

By the time the troupe had saved enough money to move to Opral Lilith was eleven. At this point They were old enough to know that They had inherited many things from Their father: his nimble hands, his affinity for illusions, his eyes, and his brain anomaly. However, living a life on the road had prevented Lilith access to most forms of media, so They knew very little about the Inflicted. Their father had told Them a few things about it, but had also informed Them that They were to keep it a secret at all costs. So, to Them, it was simply a secret psychic connection that created an unbreakable bond between Them and Their father.

The troupe was stopped at the border of Opral, just as any travelers would be, and subjected to brain scans. When the scans began Lilith was mostly interested in the machine; They had never seen anything like it before. One of the younger guards had even been nice enough to show Them how it worked. He scanned himself first, then Them, then showed Them the screen displaying Their status. Negative. Shouting had interrupted the young man's explanation of how the scanner worked. The guard that was scanning Their father was trying her best to calmly explain that he needed to go with her for a routine drug and weapons check, but the rest of the troupe was arguing against separating the group. Above all of the raised voices, however, Lilith could hear Their father's voice in Their head, repeating one word over and over: run. So, as soon as the man's hand collided with the guard's jaw, Lilith grabbed Their mother's hand and ran toward the border.

Lilith is still unsure of how they made it into the country without being shot-- or, worse, captured. After a few days of laying low, Lilith and Their mother decided to go looking for the troupe. The two of them had followed the whispers about the new street performers through the streets until they found the rest of their family. The troupe had suffered casualties at the border, and was significantly smaller. Two of them had been shot and killed; another five had been captured and, presumably, taken into custody. All surviving members blamed Lilith and Their mother. A unanimous decision was made to banish them from the troupe.

Their mother grew cold and bitter after this. She had even begged the troupe to let her remain, even if it meant casting Lilith out on Their own. The woman turned to drugs to ease her grief, and Lilith turned to people. They continued performing, both to keep busy and to make money. For safety's sake, They kept to busking, so there wasn't much money to be made. Still, it helped Them practice, and kept Them out of Their mother's way. Every now and then a wealthier viewer would come by and take pity on the poor child; those nights Lilith ate well. Then, when money got too tight, They turned to hustling. They found that the best way to keep Their mother happy was to go home each night with as much money as possible.

Living in Opral made it impossible for Lilith to avoid learning about the brain anomalies.They were not yet aware that the negative result They'd gotten at the border had been false because They had been too young to be detectable. So, They quickly began to believe that the psychic connection that They had once had with Their father had been a fabrication of Their own lonely mind. In fact, as the months passed, Their memory of Their father grew vague enough that They were convinced that he had been a fabrication of Their mind; a simple imaginary friend. So, of course, when They started accidentally overhearing telepathic conversations between the Awakened in the city They assumed that They were going crazy. They tried to ask Their mother about it, but she usually ended the conversation abruptly and firmly. Most often, though, the woman was too high to have a coherent conversation. 

After Their mother OD'd, around a year after they'd moved to Opral, Lilith continued on the best They could. The loft where They lived was owned by a slum lord, so as long as the rent kept coming he didn't care who was paying it. Lilith spent Their days on the streets, performing, hustling, and pick pocketing, anything They could do to make money. When the building eventually burned down, They didn't know where to go. Any attempt to go to a shelter would end in Them being detained for being illegal, and would likely lead to Them becoming a well documented ward of the state. However, the same fate awaited Them if they were caught on the streets after curfew. They decided that Their best hope would be to move uptown and steal a key to someone's guest house. This is where They met an illustionist by the name of Dr. Facilier.

They had mistaken the man for someone of wealth, judging by his attire and  ornate walking stick. So, after easily lifting his keys off of him, Lilith was surprised to be cornered by the man a few moments later in an alley way. After complimenting the nimbleness of Their hands-- and getting his keys back-- the man offered Them room and board in exchange for being his apprentice. They accepted the offer eagerly, both relieved to have a place to live and excited to once again have someone to look up to and learn from.

Most of Their "apprenticing" consisted of picking the pockets of the crowd while Dr. Facilier performed, but Lilith didn't complain. When the show was over, Dr. Facilier spent his remaining waking hours teaching Them everything he knew. He often praised Them on how quick of a learner They were, and even took to claiming the They were his child if anyone asked. After a year of apprenticing under Dr. Facilier They felt like They had found someone that They could call family. They even became comfortable enough with him to tell him about the voices that They hear.

When the guards interrupted one of Dr. Facilier's shows, Lilith assumed that they were simply there to make sure that everything being done was legal. They hadn't taken much from the crowd yet, so They simply hid what They had beneath the man's make-shift stage. When Dr. Facilier pointed Them out in the crowd They had been shocked, hurt and frightened. He yelled something about the Inflicted as the crowd panicked and scrambled away from Them. One of the guards grabbed Their arm, so They grabbed the closest thing to Them-- Dr. Facilier's walking stick-- and clubbed him with it. Then, once again, They were on the run.

One of Lilith's favourite illusions that Dr. Facilier performed was his disappearing act. He had installed a trap door which, after some flashing lights and smoke for show, he would activate with the bottom of his walking stick. After being taught how this trick worked, Lilith had been inspired to recreate it around the city. It didn't take long for Them to noticed that, with only a few minor changes, the base of the walking stick was perfect for activating the switch which opened most sewer grates. So, when They were cornered by the guards in an alleyway, They twisted the top of the walking stick to activate it's built in fog machine, then disappeared into a plume of purple smoke.

Lilith spent the next year living in and mapping out the sewers. For the first few months, They only left the underground in order to steal food. Then, after they felt safe enough to do so, they began to perform again. Their best act, of course, was Their disappearing act. The act became well known enough that Their audience would actually seek Them out in order to see it. They were eventually given the name "The Mad Hatter," and Their act became known as "Down the Rabbit Hole."

Despite spending so much time mapping out the sewer tunnels, Lilith still often got lost. One wrong turn lead to another, which lead to another, and they accidentally surfaced in the middle of Kriati's workshop. The woman had taken no time at all to point a very large gun at Their head. However, after a very long winded lecture, the woman eventually invited Them to come and live with her, and Lilith has been living with her ever since.

Miscellaneous: The hat that Lilith wears (the one which earned Them the name "Mad Hatter) once belonged to Their father. However, if you asked Them, They would likely say that it fell from the sky one day and They found it.

Handler: Zacharaichu

Kriati O'Brien

My name: Kriati O'Brien

My work: Mechanical Engineer.
I can: Kriati is a genius. She has an IQ of 152 and can solve quadratic equations in her head. She can --and has-- hack her way into any government program, and has never seen code that she couldn't rewrite to suit her needs. Give her some tools, and she is just as adept with the hardware as she is the software. She built her first rudimentary robot when she was eleven years old, and has only been improving her skills since.

Age: Thirty-four.

Gender: Female.

Sexuality : Homosexual.
Partner: N/A

My body: 6'0"/170 lbs

My colors: Red/Emerald Green

My marks: Half of Kriati's face and head is covered by a combination of metal and leather. She has a bionic eye and a cochlear implant. Burn scars can be seen around the edges of her head piece, and covering much of the right side of her body. The tips of the fingers on her right hand are also bionic, and she's used them to create electronic "fingerprints" which are needed to access most of her holo-screen surfaces. It's not quite bionic, but Kriati did build and attach a crank system to her leg which is needed to bend and unbend her false knee. It works on steam powered hydraulics, and there is an opening on her shoulder where steam is vented. She plans on upgrading this system eventually, but more advanced materials are expensive. She also has freckles covering the majority of her non-synthetic face.

Weapons: Kriati has numerous weapons disguised as everyday objects stashed around her home and shop. The most interesting of which includes a musket dressed up as an umbrella, and a few knives hidden in rulers. Of course, if needed, most of her tools could also be used as weapons. She would never bring such high risk items out of the house, however, which is why she's rigged her bionic fingertips to work as a high powered taser when needed.

Personality: Kriati is rude, callous, hot-headed and foul mouthed. She's lucky that her work has very little customer interaction, or else she'd likely have no customers. She is also bull-headed, ambitious, and honest to the point of bluntness. She has a bad habit of pointing out people's flaws, especially when the flaw is in their logic. Even when she is attempting to be kind, caring and sensitive she usually comes across as calculated and cold. Despite her difficulty-- borderline inability-- showing it, when she cares for someone she truly cares with all her heart.
- The smell of melting metal
- The warmth and flickering of fire
- The vibrations in the floor of the shop from the generators and various power tools
- Lilith
- Building things
- Oxycontin
- Explosions in general
- Explosives in general
- The intensity of city crowds
- The smell of burning flesh
- Birds
- Again, explosions
- Losing people she cares about

History: Kriati was born "Keeva Rowan Ivers." Her parents knew that she was destined for greatness from the moment she was born. Her mother used to brag about her coming out with a full head of red hair, and her father would say that she could hold her head up by the time she was an hour old. The divided expectations her parents had of her started at birth and continued throughout her life. Even as an infant, her mother groomed her to be a beauty queen, while her father taught her everything he knew about machinery. She could work a wrench by the time she was three, and was winning beauty pageants by four. By the time she was five she could often be found tinkering with some machine, wearing an oil stained sundress. It was difficult to do both, but she tried her best to keep both her parents happy.

The older she got, the less interested she became in beauty pageants and everything to do with them. Her mother insisted upon her participation, however, so she tried her best to hide her disdain. She traveled everywhere with a change of clothing, so she could change when her mother sent her out in a dress. When she was eight her disdain for the pageant lifestyle evolved into hate and she finally expressed her opinions to her mother, but the woman brushed it off and started preparing for their next pageant. So, being stubborn as she was, Kriati decided to shave her head in protest. Her mother wasn't pleased, but it got her point across and she never had to participate in another pageant.

Being free of the pageants left her with more time to do what she was really passionate about: build things. She could dismantle and rebuild complex machines by the time she was ten, and even built her first voice controlled robot by the time she was eleven. She excelled in school, and ended up completing primary school before turning fourteen. In post secondary she focused on coding and mechanics, but often lost focus as she worked on personal side projects. At one point her grades dropped low enough that she knew the school would put her on academic probation, so she hacked the system and changed her scores. Getting caught, of course, had been a minor set back.

According to the dean of her school, the security system she had hacked had been so intricate that even the creator hadn't been able to bypass it once it was activated. So, rather than expelling her, the school had her improve the security system further. In the end, she got her act together and managed to graduated at the top of her class. It was a combination of her ability to hack the system, her affinity for machines, and a letter of recommendation from the dean that won her a government position. It was a high paying, prestigious job, and she felt it was one that would secure her, and her family, for life. So, at 20, she was hired to be a part of the Anomaly Tracking Initiative, or ATI for short.

It was here that she met and fell in love with a scientist by the name of Aroha. She was small, soft, amiable and peculiar, and Kriati fell for her within a few month of working with her. They were nearly three years apart in age-- Kriati being the younger of the two-- but they both had intimidatingly high IQ's. Aroha had a sense of humour and a love for fun that Kriati didn't quite understand, but watching her use her intellect to play pranks on the others in the lab never failed to make the redhead smile. Of course, because they worked together their relationship had to remain private. However, this didn't stop them from becoming "roommates" after six months of working together.

The ATI team was tasked with creating and improving any technology related to the anomalies. Kriati's ultimate goal was to create a microchip that was capable of detecting the anomaly at birth. Since they were currently unable to detect the anomaly in people under the age of twenty-three, creation and testing were difficult. Most of the testing was the responsibility of someone who had a higher clearance level than Kriati. Her chips were taken, tested, and she was given a list of results to work with. Progress was slow. She worked on the task tirelessly for nearly a year. At this time Kriati knew only what the government had made public about the anomalies. As far she she knew they were dangerous, and the work she was doing to find and neutralize those with the anomaly was for the greater good. She believed this right up until the day that she was awakened.

Her awakening had taken a lot longer than she would have expected. It started out slowly, and only after she had known Aroha for a year. At first it presented itself by her feeling the emotions that she saw Aroha expressing; she attributed this to her strong emotional connection to the woman at first. When they started to be able to communicate without opening their mouths, though, they knew it was more complicated than that. Since it wasn't abnormal for them to bring their work home with them, nobody questioned it when Kriati borrowed a scanner from work. Being under the age of twenty-three, Kriati had known that her results would be negative. However, scanning Aroha confirmed their fears: she was positive for the brain anomaly.

Working for the government meant that, not only were they subjected to the bi-monthly scans, but they also had random scans throughout their work week. The day after Aroha scanned positive she declared that she was going on an extended vacation. She had already been working with the ATI for a few years and had yet to take a vacation. Even still, the woman had less than two weeks before the next bi-monthly scan, and going into hiding wasn't an option. While Aroha stayed at home, planning her next move, Kriati returned to work and doubled down on her efforts to create the microchip. She figured that it would be easier now that she had a test subject: herself.

She created three microchips; one for personal testing, one for work, and one for something else entirely. Her first night alone in the lab she used the equipment to perform minor surgery on herself to attach an external drive for the microchip to her brain. Every night after this was spent changing and testing code, mostly on her personal computer which was protected and encrypted by every security program she had ever created. Night after night she took micro naps while the computer ran it's programs to check her work, and night after night she awoke to see the word "Negative" blinking on her screen. Then, finally, she got the positive results she was looking for. She had managed to tune the microchip to the right frequency to be able to detect her anomaly. Now all she had to do was find a way to block it. It took a few days for her to reverse her programming; but when she did, she transferred it to one of the microchips and brought it home to Aroha.

Kriati's personal equipment wasn't nearly as advanced as the tools at her work lab were, but she had still been able to implant the microchip into Aroha's head with relative ease. However, rather than an external port, like she had used for herself, she had installed Aroha's in the space just behind her earlobe. Once the implantation was done, she started up the program on her computer. It took a few minutes, but soon the program connected remotely to Aroha's microchip. After it scanned her in order to become attuned to her specific brain anomaly, it displayed the "brain anomaly detected" message. After hitting a few keys to override the system and start up the blocking system, Kriati's computer froze. Then the screen went black and the government's symbol popped up.

Looking back now, Kriati isn't sure why she ever thought that she'd been doing any of her work without being detected. She had been too bold, too prideful to admit to herself that it was possible that she was being watched. It was her ego that had gotten Aroha killed. After the microchip exploded there was nothing left to her. Kriati sustained what she considered to be minor injuries-- the burns to her face, the severing of her fingertips, her loss of hearing--  but she had lived. When paramedics reached her, the flames from the explosion had consumed most of the loft. She had never been registered on the lease, and she hadn't had any ID on her at the time of the explosion, so she had been taken to the hospital as a Jane Doe.

The headline to the story had been "Accidental gas explosion level's loft, kills residents." They hadn't found any remains, but they assumed that the explosion had been strong enough to kill anyone inside. Kriati wasn't sure how she had survived, much less how she survived with such minor injuries. The hospital she had been taken to was overfull and understaffed, so once she was able to walk mostly on her own, her attending physician gave her a prescription for Oxycontin with multiple refills and sent her on her way.

Despite her better judgement, Kriati chose to visit the old house. It was blocked off by hazard tape, but there was nobody around, so she struggled her way on crutches into the ashen remains. What little that had been left had likely been taken by the government. Still, she wandered around what was left for a while. She managed to find a half burnt picture of Aroha, which she pocketed quickly. On her way out one of her crutches slipped over a smooth surface and she lost balance. As she struggled back to her feet she noticed what it was. Her work ID. The work they did had been so sensitive in nature that the ID's hadn't even had their full name's on them. Instead it had a division name, employee initials, and project acronym; O'Brien, KRI-ATI.

Kriati became a recluse after this. She moved across the country, falsified legal documents so she could exist under her new name, and set up a small shop. Her work mostly includes doing minor repairs on machinery for cheap, but every now and again she will get a request for something-- usually a service robot-- to be built from scratch. She makes just barely enough to get by, but she enjoys doing it. It also helps her keep her head down and her nose clean, figuratively speaking.

Miscellaneous: When the government overrode her computer to detonate the microchip, Kriati's firewalls automatically cleared it's contents; which, obviously, included any programming that she had worked on for the ATI. The third microchip that Kriati had been working on had been fully functional and fully tuned to her brain at the time of the explosion. She had kept it to use for herself after she had surgically implanted the other one in Aroha. It had been among her belongings when she was discharged from the hospital. When she turned 23 she implanted the chip, half expecting it to explode. It didn't, of course, and now she can bypass the bi-monthly brain scans. It has now been over twelve years since Aroha died, and Kriati has barely even made a friend since. She is quite fond of Lilith, but she originally only allowed Them to live with her because Their eyes reminded her of Aroha. She is also still taking Oxycontin; it wasn't difficult to hack into her pharmacy's server and add refills to her file.

Handler: Zacharaichu
« Last Edit: July 20, 2016, 01:50:44 AM by Rummy Tum Tum »

Online Rummy Tum TumTopic starter

Re: Renegade Minds (Rummy Tum Tum, Madame Professor, and Zacharaichu)
« Reply #4 on: July 20, 2016, 01:55:06 AM »

(I'm very disorganized, so a lot of information ended up here. Sorry.)

Q: Can I play a non Inflicted/Gifted person?
A: If you want to, sure. The story does focus on these people, though.

Q: Can I have awakened before the broadcast?
A: Most characters-- player and npc-- would be awaking for the first time here, but it is possible to have awakened before this whole summoning business.

Q: How does awakening work?
A: The abilities awaken on their own, seemingly out of the blue, prompting you to see and feel things your Kindred do at times. That could manifest itself in dreams or daydreams, or in hallucinations of all kinds. If the person you're "experiencing" isn't awakened, they won't notice you, but may possibly start feeling a bit freaked out or paranoid when it happens. You can also awaken when when someone else with abilities draws them out like in the intro. Usually, if you haven't awakened, and meet another person with the abilities, you'd prolly feel something's off about them or some strange connection towards them. Interacting with them can speed along the process of your awakening, especially if they're one of your Kindred.

Q: What are Kindred?
A: Okay, so, if other Inflicted/Gifted are like a public forum, your Kindred would be your smaller, more intimate group chat. As an Inflicted/Gifted who has awakened, you can commune with others of your kind who have awakened also. There are a few of these people, your Kindred, who are closer to you than all the rest, for whatever reason. Your connection goes very deep. Unlike with all the other Inflicted/Gifted, you don't have to meet or hear from them in any way before being able to connect to them for the first time. Also unlike the others, you don't even have to will yourself to link and speak with them at times. They just come to you or you to them. Your spirits are tightly linked, to the point where if they were to die, you'd feel it, and it would feel as if part of you has died.

Q: Can you explain the powers?
A: The Inflicted/Gifted have the powers of telepathy and basically super empathy. So they can share thoughts and feelings, as well as memories and ingrained knowledge. They can also take over each others bodies, if allowed to, leaving the body owner as the spectator, or putting them in the other person's body. For example, say you need to escape a situation, either physically or socially. Having my character, Salizar take over would make it easy. He'd go all parkour expert or smiling, lying bastard in your body, if you trust him to. The first step in telepathy or any of their other powers would be to be allowed to connect, like when someone answers your phone call. With Kindred, these calls can happen seemingly randomly, and are also much harder to ignore. For Kindred, sometimes a connection is made without either party meaning to at all. This makes them closer to each other than anyone, and puts them in position to sense each others' peril and help each other when in need.

Q: Can our characters know each other beforehand?
A: Yes, you can know each other, and could even have experience using your abilities together if you're both awakened. I wouldn't want everyone to know each other fully already, though, as that could ruin the fun.

Q: How is travel to and from Opral?
A: It is strictly regulated. There are many hoops a citizen must jump through before they can leave the country. It would take upwards of a several months of tedious paperwork and tests for a resident to gain a passport. When one goes on vacation, they must first plan for it weeks ahead of time, and declare the length of their stay. If they exceed that length for a too long without good reason, they would be considered a fugitive. There is a limit on how long one can stay in another country, that being 1 month barring exceptions. It would take years to get the proper permissions to emigrate from the country altogether. Immigrants from Opral don't tend to do well in other countries due to the stigma of the Inflicted, or at least that is what residents are taught to believe. Traveling or immigrating into Opral is much easier, however, so long as you have the proper paperwork, no criminal history, and submit to a full body scan when entering and--  for visitors-- departing.

Q: How is life in Opral?
A: Opral has a rich economy and an excess of luxurious technological wonders. Many live relatively good lives with well paying jobs, a fact that is responsible for most immigration to the country. However, there is a constant tension in the air, and most look to entertaining things like cinema, games, performances and the like to lift their stress. Everyone aside from those with permits saying otherwise must obey a strict curfew. Government surveillance sweeps the nation, some showcased by high tech cameras in public and others more private and unseen by the masses. Crimes are strictly punished, no matter how small. It makes one wonder how certain criminal organizations manage to roam free. The most dangerous and hunted organization would be that of the Inflicted insurgency, or as they call themselves, the Network. They were not well known until very recently, however.

Q: What do brain scanners look like?
A: There are multiple kinds. Some look like tablets and are operated by humans, some come in the form of a hovering robotic construct which makes a warning sound when an anomaly is detected, and others are made to be walked into, like the TSA's x-ray body scanner.

Q: How do the bi-monthly scans work?
A: By default citizens must go to the nearest assigned brain scanning venue, but you can register for home visits. Brain scanning venues mostly have hovering brain scanning machines and step in scanners doing the work, and home visits mostly have humans doing the work with handheld scanners. If you don't do it, you get a warning that goes on your record. And if you get too many of those, you get arrested. Also during the visit when you receive this warning, you are scanned and if you resist you are arrested. During these scan days, people who look to be in their twenties may be hassled by officers during the daytime scanning hours for ID. If they are twenty-three or older, the officer may demand to see a card proving that it did happen. These cards are given after a brain scan, and have barcodes that prove their legitimacy when scanned.

Q: What happens to the homeless?
A: If they can get into a shelter, they will not be arrested past curfew. Curfew breakers are usually not held for long, unless they are repeat offenders.

Q: Ryu, honey, we love you!
A: Shut up baby, I know it!

Q: What is love?
A: Shrek is love. Shrek is life. (I'm so sorry.)
« Last Edit: July 20, 2016, 02:00:20 AM by Rummy Tum Tum »

Online Rummy Tum TumTopic starter

Re: Renegade Minds (Rummy Tum Tum, Madame Professor, and Zacharaichu)
« Reply #5 on: August 09, 2016, 12:13:19 AM »
« Last Edit: August 09, 2016, 12:15:17 AM by Rummy Tum Tum »

Online Rummy Tum TumTopic starter

Re: Renegade Minds (Rummy Tum Tum, Madame Professor, and Zacharaichu)
« Reply #6 on: August 09, 2016, 12:15:23 AM »
Location: High-rise apartment//Elsewhere | With: Leila//A stranger | Thoughts: What the fuck is happening?

"I started a joke..." Roxanne lied in bed, eyes affixed on the ceiling above. Slowly, but certainly, they gravitated toward the fan in its center. The blades were eerily still. Uncomfortably so. Flashes of memories bombarded her. Simple, mundane memories. She recalled waking at five in the morning to a shrill alarm, gently rubbing Leila's arm and ushering her back to her deep sleep, drinking coffee and heading off to work. It was early in her days as a resident at Perilia State General. She'd been given the basics, and had begun every residents' nightmarish task of making their way in a sea of confusion, relying on the safety nets that were senior residents to keep their heads on straight. She'd dealt with patients before, while volunteering in clinics. Never, however, had she been given the amount of responsibility she had now. Just being called doctor was something that took getting used to. She didn't feel all that different from when she was still a medical student. She was a small, meek fish in shark's clothing, or so she felt.

"Which started the whole world crying..." Different memories came to mind. Very recent ones. It was her second year as a resident, and as such, she had more responsibility to the patients she met with. Patrick was his name. A middle aged man who came in complaining of severe stomach pain. After tests he was diagnosed with peritonitis caused by appendicitis. She assisted in the surgery herself, although she didn't have much impact considering her position, the experienced surgeon, and the robotic assistant. It was during his recovery that she was tasked with checking in on him. She recalled being nervous. She'd just seen parts of him he'd never see, and now was meant to walk in, see how he was feeling and answer any and all questions he had on the matter.

"But I didn't see..." She stood outside Patrick's door, trying to shake the nerves from her system. She wanted to present herself in a professional way. She wanted to come off as the doctor she'd wanted to be. As she prepared herself, a fellow resident that had been walking by stopped and asked "Are you...are you psyching yourself up to go talk to your patient?" She nodded after brief hesitation. "Is he dying?" He asked. She first thought that to be a joke, but then saw the concern in his eyes. "No. Recovering."

"That the joke was on me" Her first visit with Patrick post-surgery certainly felt awkward, but he never gave any indication that it was. In retrospect, she surprised herself by how little she screwed up in providing answers to his questions. In the following days of his recovery, whenever she would visit him, he would be surrounded by family. A brother, a teenage son, two daughters, and his youngest, a small boy. As they added their questions into the mix, things did get more difficult, but she managed. She at least had experience with families bombarding her with inquiries. Over time, she'd gotten to know more about Patrick. For instance, he had owned a deli. One particularly hectic day, he told her a brief story about the problems he'd had starting up his business, and how things never got easy, but manageable. A knowing smile appeared on his face as he told her how much the work was worth it in the end. In his younger days, he'd planned to become a psychiatrist, but life brought him to a different outcome-- one that he boldly stated he wouldn't trade for anything. He even gave her marriage advice after noticing her wedding ring. And then he died.

"I looked at the skies" It was all so quick that she didn't truly put together and understand what happened until after the fact. She hadn't even been the first to call for help when he went into septic shock. His visiting family members did. "Running my hands over my eyes." She just froze. She was useless in that important moment. A moment that could very well have decided a man's life. "And I fell out of bed." She knew that losing a patient was an inevitability. She knew that all doctors had to go through this. She'd just never thought it would happen so soon. She tried so hard to do things right, and yet this happened. She'd become too close. She knew it back when she stood listening to his stories, but she felt it now. "Hurting my head from things that I said..." The worst part was telling the loving family she once enjoyed seeing Patrick interact with that he was dead. It felt wrong. It felt worse than she could have imagined. She left them in tears, broken, and-- terrible as it was to admit to herself-- she felt some relief that their sorrow didn't have time to turn into anger.

Her voice trailed off, lending to a poignant silence in the bedroom. Solitude, a thing she normally coveted, was now tortuous. At the same time, while she wanted Leila there to hold her and to speak to her, she had no desire to cause worry or be a burden. There had been enough of that back in Roxanne's drinking days. As if on cue, her gray eyes shifted towards the closet. It was partially slid ajar, and though what she craved was hidden inside, she felt as if she could sense its presence. A small bottle of rum hidden at the bottom of a box she kept old books, games, and other miscellaneous items in. She could drink just a bit. It would make her feel so much better. The aching in her chest, the anxiety and depression weighing her down, it would all just melt away. She could be numb and happy. It seemed so perfect, like heaven in a glass bottle.

She sat up. Her heart was fluttering with anticipation now. She could almost feel the smooth liquid gliding down into her gullet. As she stared and heavily considered, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective glass doors of the closet. Her lips pursed, and her body stiffened, and with all the willpower she could muster, she tore her eyes from the closet. With a deep breath, she sunk her face into the palms of her hands. Why did she torture herself like this? She not only risked falling back into her old ways, but she risked Leila finding the bottle, ripping apart what trust they managed to build. She had always seen herself as a logical being, but this was one of those situations that proved otherwise.

Roxanne lied down in bed again, and continued singing and self-blaming until finally succumbing to sleep over thirty-six hours after her first patient's death.

She awoke in an exhausted stupor. For a moment, confusion and panic rose inside her as she felt a heavy weight on the side of her neck. However, the faint smell of vanilla and cinnamon brought her to her senses. Carefully, she separated herself from Leila's lazy embrace and rose to a sitting position. Looking down at the sleeping woman, she deduced that her wife had tried to provide her with whatever comfort possible as she slept. A small smile crept to her lips in response. She glanced toward the window and noted the brightness of the sky, then checked the alarm clock on her bedside table, confirming that it was early nearly midday. She'd slept for approximately eighteen hours. It had been awhile since she'd woken up so late. For Leila, however, this wasn't so unusual. Both her work and sleeping schedules had a tendency to be sporadic. The life of a freelance artist. She leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Leila's forehead, then stood and set about a much lazier version of her morning routine.

It was at noon exactly that the broadcast occurred. She'd found herself sinking back in a recliner chair, half-paying attention to a cartoon show. As the images on the television screen stuttered and blinked, she snapped to attention. Confused, dazed, and intrigued, she watched the masked figure give his speech. She listened carefully to his words-- words that could easily be determined as treasonous and heinous. The first parts of his verbal assault on the government she found herself somewhat agreeing with. She, like everyone around, was deeply afraid of what their leaders could do. She knew that they had shifted and changed many laws, and even ignored constitutional ones. She knew that those with power had a tendency to lord it over all others. She knew that her rights as a citizen were shredded to near nothingness. The deal was simple: security for freedom. It was a fair trade for some, especially those who had never experienced freedom. Being a person who had experienced both freedom and the true evils man could commit without these security systems, she had always been uncertain of which side she could stand on. But, even if she did side against the government, what could she do about it? Protest against them only to be arrested and stripped of everything she worked so hard for? She'd instead decided to keep her head down and forge the brightest possible future with her wife and the children they would one day have. It wasn't an easy thing to do, especially after quitting drinking, but it was what she felt was right for herself and for those she loved.

Uneasiness rose within her, however, as the masked man began speaking of the Inflicted and the incident they caused decades ago. The thought of it sparked a grim memory to resurface. Forcing herself to breathe deeply to calm her nerves, she attempted to place all of her focus on the man on the screen in order to avoid slipping back into that particular moment. It was during the epidemic that her family were exploited, torn apart, and slaughtered. It was a time that haunted her constantly. She was very tempted to turn the television off, but found herself unable to. Some part of her wanted to hear everything, and to understand.

By the end of the broadcast, she sat, awestruck. What the man insinuated, it couldn't be possible. There was no way that a government would mass murder its own citizens for power. It was evil. The type of evil one might see in a comic book or a movie. She'd given him the benefit of the doubt initially, but this man must have been an insane person. How he managed to get access to the emergency broadcast to spread his deranged message, she did not know. Honestly, it didn't matter. She could sweep everything he'd said under the rug and keep living her life normally now. At least, this is what she tried so hard to convince herself as the familiar feeling of anxiety washed over her. For a moment, she thought she felt someone in the room with her, and glanced over her shoulder expecting to see Leila. There was no one there, and as she came to notice, the room was beginning to get darker and her head began to spin. She sat gripping both arms of the recliner chair, shutting her eyes tight as she attempted to control her breathing and think calming thoughts.

When her eyes opened, she saw nothing but a looming darkness. She could feel the presence of other people around her, but somehow could not see or touch them. Then, the crazed masked
man appeared before her, intent on continuing his tirade. What the fuck was happening to her? Was she too going insane? The words 'brain anomaly' came from the man, and she instantly froze, feeling a numbing cold creep up her spine. "We are what they call Inflicted." No, that couldn't be. She couldn't be sick. This couldn't happen to her. Not now. No, this had to be pent up stress revealing itself in some fucked up nightmare. She could barely focus on the words the man spoke, and yet the information was received. Strangely enough, she felt she could understand his meaning before he'd even finished his speech. This had to be a nightmare. She repeated that thought with conviction as he spoke. Then a memory not belonging to her played inside her mind. Perfect. That was a way to prove that this was all nonsense. She had no clue how to access the Dark Net, so if she did input that web address, nothing would come of it but an error. It was her only choice, really. But, even as she convinced herself that this would all be nothing but a bad dream, she could not help but feel a deep sense of dread.

When she finally snapped back to reality, she saw that the television in front of her was turned off. "Rox!" Leila's sudden exclamation caused her to jump in her seat. The redhead appeared before her quickly, her worried eyes filled with tears. The streaks running down her cheeks proved that some had escaped already. She was holding a phone to her ear. "Roxy, baby, don't worry. I'm calling for help right now. Everything's gonna be alright." Panic swelled up inside her, and, without thinking, she knocked the phone from Leila's hand. "What the hell!?" She shouted in surprise as she scrambled to gather the device. "Shit, sorry! Please, hang up the phone." Leila stared at her with confusion and deep concern in her emerald eyes. She raised the phone to her ear once more. "Ah, hello." She said, clearly responding to the person on the other line. "Accidental call. So sorry for wasting your time." Roxanne breathed a deep sigh of relief. She wasn't sure her heart could take much more. After answering in the affirmative to a few questions from the person on the phone, she ended the call and tossed the phone on the couch. "Rox, you are scaring the hell out of me. Explain what's going on." Roxanne could see the stubbornness and anger surfacing in her wife's expression. She definitely couldn't blame her, and she definitely wouldn't be getting out of this conversation easily.

It was only now that she noticed the cold wetness soaking into her shirt. She then noticed that her hair was wet, and what she thought was sweat on her face was not. "Did you splash water on me?" She asked, her face blank save for the tiniest of smiles on the corner of her mouth. "Hey, I didn't know what to do. You were staring at the TV like a goddamn zombie!" Leila answered, ineffectively trying to cover her own embarrassment with exasperation. Roxanne snickered, then giggled, then burst out laughing. Leila looked at her with an arched brow. Slowly, her steely expression softened and a small smile she clearly didn't want to show etched its way into her face. "Alright. Enough of that. Tell me what's up." The sternness in her voice was a bit of a rarity. She'd always been a relaxed woman who took few things very seriously, so in times like this, it was clear that she meant business. "I'm fine. Really. I'm good. I was just stressed out about work. Ya know? I didn't get much sleep." Leila regarded her with a piercing gaze for a time. "Trust me, I'm a doctor." She added with a hint of playfulness. "Mhmm, but you're not a neurologist, are you?" Roxanne smiled and chuckled silently in response to that. She did have a point.

Fortunately, after eating and talking more, Roxanne did manage to convince her that things were fine, or at least not as urgent or terrifying as they truly were. She told her of the broadcast, of what the strange masked man said, but not of the dream afterward. If it was indeed a dream, there would be no need to speak of it. She left for their bedroom, casually remarking that she would do some web surfing to distract herself. In reality, she was more interested in discovering the truth.

After grabbing her laptop, she plopped down on the mattress and began the process of entering the Dark Net. The process of gaining access felt like simplicity itself. It was as if she had done so many times before. She knew the overly complex web address and authorization codes like the back of her hand. Her finger hovered over the Enter key. After pressing this, she would know the truth for certain. True, the fact that she had gotten this far was a worrying indication, and deep down she knew what would happen when she pressed that button. She would no longer be able to convince herself that everything was normal, and that things could remain the same. This is why she hesitated so. Unfortunately, it seemed that fate would give her no option in discovering the truth. Before she could make her decision, a swirling blackness appeared before her eyes. Confusion, panic, and terror surged through her body, causing her to shut her eyes tight. However, when she opened them, she found that she was not in her bedroom anymore. She was not in her apartment. She didn't recognize where she was, and nor did she recognize the person standing before her.