[Transmission 06][Omni Malfunction]

[subject_013]

[CW: Resident Evil-typical violence and mild gore, canonic character death, pain referenced.]

[Red and white static fills the screen, then clears on a view of a basement laboratory space, a life support tank containing a monstrous humanoid figure, which some of the Sleepers may recognize as the creature that broke through in April. The view shifts back to a lab work top terminal, someone wearing tactical-looking black leather half gloves typing what seem like access codes.]

[A dark-haired, fresh-faced young man in drab green tactical gear, pistol in hand, hurries into view, ready for anything, but from the look of shock and dismay in his pale grey-blue eyes, he hadn't braced for what he sees.]

[A confrontation, a first-person view of a scuffle, ending in the viewer holding the young man on his back at gun point, looking down into his eyes and noting the fear and dismay in the other's eyes.]

[The fluid drains from the tank. The beast comes to life, striking the glass with the heel of its hand, cracking it in one blow, then shattering it in the next. Its other hand, larger and thicker with long, bony-looking claws whips out. The view swings up, looking down at the beast as if the beast has lifted the viewer clear of their own feet. The edges of the view turn slightly grey and blurry. Blood spatters through the range of sight. Everything tumbles, chaotic, a whirling view of the lab space that stops abruptly, as if the beast has tossed the viewer aside, as an angered child might toss aside a broken toy. The view shows the basement ceiling, ductwork and wiring and metal stringers, all growing more and more blurry, then fading into darkness.

[The view cuts to red and white static, then the image of Wesker's face, almost painfully close, fills the screen.]

Did the device record any of the procedure? [A harassed sigh and he glances slightly to one side as someone off-link complains noisily about lost data.] Cypher, did you have a hand in that?

I didn't do a fing, boss. It just... did that.

Yes. And now the whole town saw it. [He reaches in and taps at the edge of the screen.]

[The view goes to red and white static again. Then the display fills again with a confused view: first person on

[A plastered ceiling fades into view, blurry, clearing, then blurry again before it finally clears. He looks down, along himself as he lays atop the covers of a comfortable bed, then peers about the room: a wicker basket and a metal briefcase on the bureau.]

[He sits up slowly, looking down at himself. Reaching down, he untucks his cashmere jersey-style shirt and lifts it almost to his armpit, uncovering his badly bruised flank, which he stares at for a long moment, as if expecting the bruises to fade.]

[Except they don't. He lowers the shirt, then lifts his forearms, sleeves rolled to the elbows, before his face, revealing a set of antlers freshly tattooed on the skin, the skin red from the recent work.]

Is this someone's idea of a bad joke? What have you done to me? What do you hope to accomplish? [He speaks, his voice slightly deeper than some may recognize.]

What and where is this place? [He asks with an annoyed sigh.]

[Then the door opens and a cheery young-looking man with spiky brown hair and soulful brown eyes far older than the face that holds them enters.]

"Deerington. You're in Deerington."

[The view goes to red and white static again, then an angled view of Wesker looking away from the device almost thoughtfully. Or embarrassed. Or both.]

That was something no one needed to see but persons involved.

((OOC: And another casualty of the memshare player plot. If you want a random memshare to break through, feel free to ask, just specify if you want canon, personal canon, or Deerington CRAU things.))

Comments

audio | private | un: sds

[fogsong]

[ There's something jarring about the first memory that plays out, a dizzying display of action that ends gruesomely. It takes Sharon a moment to put it all together. ]

That thing... [ She hesitates, the brief flashes of the memory replaying in her mind. He was clearly involved with its creation and she got the idea he underestimated it. There'd been a lot of blood. She swallows. Her tone is curious but restrained. ] Did you survive that?

[Audio][UN: A_Wesker013]

[subject_013]

We called it a Tyrant. I'd wished to name the project Talos, but someone higher in the design team had other ideas.

I'm speaking with you now, aren't I? [Almost dangerously mischievous. Then more serious again.] I died. The cold hand of death pulled me under. But I'd inoculated myself with the same agent that made the Tyrant what it became. That, as well as something I'd been implanted with as a youth, snatched me from the hands of death and drew me back to life. And a new life, no less.

super sorry how late this is, family shit came up, feel free to ignroe it

[fogsong]

I think Talos sounded better but Tyrant... well, it looked the name. [ But a monster is a monster no matter the name it's given.

A shiver runs down her spine when his tone shifts but it's gone as quickly as it had come. ]

You... didn't end up looking like that thing, though? Was that because of the thing you were implanted with?

Absolutely no worries! I totally get it (have had intermittent family stuff myself this year)

[subject_013]

I had Hephaistos's automaton from ancient Greek mythology in mind when I suggested the name. Marketing at the company that financed its creation claimed no one would get the reference. [He punctuates that with an annoyed sigh.] But you're not wrong in saying either label applies.

Very likely: and I don't doubt the ones who made me what I am had manipulated my genetics, to make them more receptive to the positive elements and less susceptible to the negative. I kept my looks, intellect and personality, and for that, I'm grateful.

[fogsong]

I'm not super into Greek mythos so... [ There's an audible shrug to her tone. She didn't catch the reference but she also doesn't think it should've mattered if people did or not. ]

...what was their goal in doing all of that to you? You remained yourself so they obviously didn't want some mindless weapon. [ More advanced humans? Something to sell to the people who wanted to be 'more' than what they were? She doesn't know enough about Umbrella, or Wesker, to even make a wild guess. But she does know there had to have been a goal there.

Maybe just to see if they could? ]

[CW: Human experimentation, social Darwinism referenced]

[subject_013]

A little story time in order then [He says that with a paternal note.]

Among the Olympians, the twelve principal gods of the ancient Greek pantheon was Hephaistos, the god of blacksmiths and other craftspeople working in metals of all kinds, a brawny, ugly god, lame in one foot, but with a clever mind and deft hands. Among his many creations and inventions was Talos, a humanoid automaton brought to life with the blood of the gods and given to King Minos and Queen Europa of Crete, to guard the shores of their island kingdom. If a ship flying the colors of an enemy kingdom approached, Talos would toss large rocks at it until either the ship turned around or the rocks struck and damaged it. Any landing parties that managed to reach the shore would find themselves confronted by a metal humanoid twice as tall as a grown man with a dutifully protective streak to match. I had Talos's defensive qualities in mind when we were developing what would come to be the Tyrant.

[A long pause, as if he's weighing how much he can - or should - reveal to her.]

That's something I barely knew about in its entirety until shortly before I fell into the world which gave rise to this one, a revelation that served as the last piece in a puzzle that was hard even for me to take in.

...They'd made this way as an attempt to create a perfect human, the next step in human evolution, the first of their kind: stronger, swifter, more resilient against disease and injuries. Except it didn't work as they'd planned. Only two of us survived out of dozens and the other, my sister by adoption, disappeared without a trace, going her own way. I don't doubt she was putting our keepers as far behind her as she could, and I don't blame her for that.

[fogsong]

[ She listens with a rapt expression as he speaks. Her schooling meant that both Greek and Roman myths were only ever touched upon and her teachers had the surprising ability to make even the most interesting subjects dull. Now, she almost wants to look further into the subject. ] You really put some thought into what you wanted to call it, then. Shame how it turned out.

[ As he continues, her expression becomes visibly bothered. A tiny frown tugs at her lips and the muscles in her jaw tighten. ]

I wonder how many stories need to be told before people learn that playing god never turns out the way intended. [ a pause and she adds ] Why didn't you leave like your sister?

[subject_013]

That's the downside of working under the auspices of a corporation: They can give you all the funding and resources you need, but at the price of working for people with more interest in cutting a profit and giving the buyer what they think they want. Some of our buyers were more about offense then defense.

[A harassed sigh.]

I apologize for the rant. I suppose it's one of many factors that's lead me to having a cynical view of the world.

That's the problem with people enamored of power. They don't always listen to the right stories, choosing instead to create the same narratives over and over again.

I left in my own time: I might have lingered to pocket some trade secrets, to sell them to a competing corporation. I am not a hero: the mile-wide streak of pragmatism running down the middle of my spirit makes that improbable. But this place and the world that birthed it are built on making the improbable possible.

[fogsong]

[ She lets out a quiet chuckle when he apologizes. ] You're fine. I like to listen to people bitch, especially when they have a good reason to. [ And he has plenty of reasons to from what she's heard ]

See, and that just sounds like character growth to me. Or the possibility of character growth. Isn't it natural we change as the world around us does?

Audio - UN: Runeseeker

[onerthes]

[She choked a little. Nah, it wasn't the first memory she reacted to. Gods only knew the horrors that were part of his life. She could ask later, but that sight... it brought back so many memories.]

Fascinating, that it shared a memory of even the nightmare... I do miss that crazy old doctor sometimes. Life's so quiet without him, isn't it?

Heh. I sometimes forget he was one of the first you ever met there, wasn't he?

[Audio][UN: A_Wesker013]

[subject_013]

Whatever has triggered this event doesn't seem to discriminate, though it seems to be favoring memories from Sleepers' respective worlds of origin.

However... if it had to pull something from Sodder's nightmare, it could have pulled something far worse. The town feels a little empty without him. I've wondered what he'd make of our hosts, the Pthumerians. No doubt he'd have choice words for The Tower, but certainly he'd be boon companions with my own Patreon.

He wasn't the first Sleeper I'd met, but he was one of the first.

I trust your devices and Omen have remained unaffected?

[onerthes]

The Tower's inaction would drive him to utter distraction with the creepy and violent behavior of those trying to appease it. I can only begin to imagine what he'd say. I think he'd probably manage to get on with some of them well. He always had a bit of a forgiving streak even by my standards.

[She laughed softly and pursed her lips.]

For now? It seems I'm fortunate, but time will tell. I refuse to assume that I am going to be quit that lucky, honestly.

[subject_013]

It might be the one time he'd agree that force might be necessary to contain them, if not eliminate them. You can hear him presenting a grand speech to them, impressed at their operation, but calling them to task for the purpose and their methods.

I'd suggest limiting your time on the network or using a different device for the time being. I'm keeping Cypher within my being for now, though he greatly resents that. I can feel the little rascal pattering around in my head, treating my mind palace as an actual dwelling.

[onerthes]

I can almost hear the pained lecture right now. [She laughed.] Still, he wasn't a complete pacifist. he just tried to avoid a fight, so you likely would be on the same page.

...I really should, but I daresay that I suspect that the omni will not be good enough to allow such a simple way out, and we both know it.

[CW: Epidemic used as a metaphor]

[subject_013]

True, he had a ferocity that he hid well. I'd only seen it once, but it manifested and it startled me. There's something deeper and darker in him which showed its face, thanks in no small part to Ramona's machinations during the last days of the nightmare. However... if he were here, he probably would rather no one spoke about it.

It's an experiment, to say the least. I have a feeling whatever this is may be affecting the network itself. If it's something fully magical, it's out of my range of expertise, though I'm still finding ways to apply it anyway. I've started running some 'contact tracing' from examining the dates of the messages. I've not found our 'magical patient zero', but it's a matter of time and study.

Re: [CW: Epidemic used as a metaphor]

[onerthes]

He would prefer it not, you are correct. So we shan't in his honor.

[But she'd been inside his memories at times. Nobody who could dance with such joy that there was one day, only one, where he was able to save everyone and that such a thing was as rare as it was? Nobody like that had no darkness in their souls. That joy was bred from dark places, and she knew it.]

Just a matter of finding the timing more than anything else. There's many factors that could be the case in this situation. If anyone will methodically find it, it's you.

Re: [CW: Epidemic used as a metaphor]

[subject_013]

[A pleased chuckle in his throat.]

Vote of confidence appreciated. Though I've not ruled out one of our hosts may have a metaphoric hand in these goings on, or at least, they might have expanded the effects. I wouldn't put it past them.

And may this revelation be the last from my device. I have memories I would rather stayed out from the public eye, some too personal in varying shades. [Most personal of all: his memories of Jake's mother, someone whose gentle fire he would keep hidden in the corner of his heart that remains human.]

Video; un: darkness

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul watches both memories, noting the pattern now that seems to draw one of the worst and one of the best from a Sleeper's life. His voice is quiet as he speaks. Maul is still hiding out in his ship, his Omen Venge and Cranky with him right now. The latter is patting him slowly on the arm as if afraid his master is going to start screaming and crying again like he did when his own memories showed up on the network.]

I'm guessing that brush with death made you what you are today. [Then he sighs, looking a little sad.] I do miss that Doctor. So few people have ever wholly been on my side right from the start but he was one of them.

[Video][UN:<Undefined>][CW: Quarantine as metaphor]

[subject_013]

[The feed shows Wesker typing inhumanly fast on a steampunk-looking laptop, his gaze fixed on the screen. At length, he pauses - no doubt he filled the buffer - and sits back slightly, running a hand over his hair.]

That would be the seminal moment when the man I had been died and the being I am now arose. [A small smirk.] I suppose that statement applies to both events.

I miss him as well: He was a good person who willingly listened to my philosophizing, though he deeply disagreed with my position. I think... it was stalking his protective addition to that conversation which led me to adding my own word. I've wondered what he would make of this place and its peculiarities, had he lingered here. Hopefully his travels have taken him to some place as full of wonders, and that companion of his hasn't driven him to distraction.

[survivalthroughhate]

The genetic tampering you went through, that was what allowed you to survive, wasn't it?

[Maul is a bit curious as to any sort of genetic rewriting that could have allowed one to survive impalement. Even Maul, tough as he was, would have been hard-pressed to survive a blow like that.]

He saw the good in me and I know now how terribly rare that can be. [A wistful look comes over Maul's face.] I am certain that boundless curiosity of his would have found many ways to be temporarily satiated before moving onto the next new wonder for him.

[subject_013]

It was part of it and possibly the greater. The other part came from the mutagenic agents in my system, waiting to activate and pull me free of the jaws of death. However, that was possible, due to the tampering which made my cells more receptive to the revivifying and regenerative aspects of those agents.

[He resumes typing for a moment, then pauses, thoughtful, his hands folding one over the other.]

Perhaps it is that boundless curiosity of his, which gives him the power to see the nuances in everyone. He seemed to have no biases as to how people ought to act or live, or rather... he accepted that different species might have differing moral codes or might acquire them as they evolved. [Considering what he has become, he's doubtful that typical human morality applies to him now.]

[survivalthroughhate]

That sounds like the possibilities for horrific things to be done to any body that went through such a process were endless.

[He's never more thankful Sidious had no desire to tamper with Maul genetically than when he hears about what his brother has gone through. What a horrorshow that would have been, to have his very being subjected to such things on top of everything else he'd been through in his childhood.]

He is very old and I think that helps as well. He's seen so much that even what the likes of you or I are capable of doing is still not near the worst of what he's encountered in his travels.

[subject_013]

They were. It's likely why only two of the original thirteen test subjects survived the process in the end: myself and my sister Alex. For all the benefits, they may not outweigh the risks.

[An inbreath and a slow outbreath, thoughtfully, but not quite a sigh.]

He's seen much of the universe, along with much of time and space. That has to broaden a person's outlook as well as their acceptance of their fellow sapient beings, whatever the color of their moral code.

[survivalthroughhate]

I have not heard you talk much of her before. Are you two close?

[Maul is always interested in hearing about Wesker's life before he showed up in Deerington.]

I suppose it does if you live a long time. I've seen a great deal of my galaxy and sometimes still feel so closeminded.

[subject_013]

We were, closer even than some siblings who share the same genetics. Some mistook us for twins, since we're both tall, light-haired humanoids with light skin, but we were adopted - read 'kidnapped' from different families from different countries.

[A pause and an in-breath.] She was another of the old man's proteges, taken at a young age, a physically frail girl suffering from a chronic illness that left her body weak. But she had a strong mind, more intelligent than mine and cleverer. More dangerous, even. Close friendships weren't encouraged by our caretakers, but she and I circumvented that. Our work took us in different directions, with her going into psychology and I into virology. The viral agent that made me what I am healed her of her frailties, but it caused her to develop another illness, affecting her lungs, which could potentially become terminal.

She was running research into the physical side of human fear, when she vanished, some months before the event that lead to my arriving in Deerington. I sought a cure for her, and had attempted to contact her, but the usual routes had gone dark. Since she had been our keeper's favorite, or one of them, I sought out the old man to determine if he had communicated with her. He was of no help, outside of revealing the precise nature of our upbringing. I've wondered he'd intended to rattle me to the point of rage, as a diversion or to goad me into attacking him. I suppose we'll never know, but I can't say that I care to have an answer to that.