Difference between revisions of "Outworld/The Unlocked Archives"

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All in all she was happy with the outcome as she brought the new weapon home in a lovely ornate box which she left on top of the chair a certain Bodyguard preferred in her office.<br>
 
All in all she was happy with the outcome as she brought the new weapon home in a lovely ornate box which she left on top of the chair a certain Bodyguard preferred in her office.<br>
 
He could complain all he liked about her causing him grief but it was unfair to say she didn't treat him nicely every once in a while.
 
He could complain all he liked about her causing him grief but it was unfair to say she didn't treat him nicely every once in a while.
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<h3>The Hardest Decision</h3>
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''Author: Pandora Morozov''
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What am I doing? This… this has to be done but. I find myself holding back a panic attack as I repeatedly argue to and fro what the results of this will be. It's not the physical dangers that worry me but the mental ones. The emotional ones.
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I sit in shivering in silence. It's dark in this room too which only adds to the isolation. From this point on only one other person is going to see me and it hurts so much that it's not the one I want, can't, say goodbye to.
 +
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My name is called and brings me back to my surroundings. I get to my feet steadily, feigning determination in everything but my eyes.
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"Are you ready?"
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I laugh bitterly. "Ready? No… but I'll still do it."
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They nod gently. "I understand this will be hard."
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No you don't. You just have to forget you did this. I have to forget everything. I have to forget… I halt that thought immediately as they put a hand on my shoulder. Any anger I felt melted away a little, it was hard to be mad at them. They acted almost like a parent would throughout this unhappy experiment.
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"Your form." They remind me with a hint of hesitation.
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"Right." Of course I don't even get to keep that. With some effort I alter myself.  Younger. Some things I keep, like the colour of my eyes. My clothes I  had already changed  to simple black combats and a tank top. Indicators of my life removed for protection.
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"Let's get this over with." I sigh reluctantly and try not to flinch at how I sound now.
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They look over me carefully then zone in on my wrist.  Holding out their hand they comment. "The bracelet."
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I clasp it with my other hand tightly and shake my head firmly. "Not this. This is the only thing I am keeping if I have to give up everything else. I don't care how childish it is. I don't care."
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The other sighs then drops their hand away. "Fine… just that."
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While their back is turned to lead me I seal the leather strap to my wrist so that only I can remove it, because I genuinely don't trust them not to try and take it out of some misguided desire to protect.
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A few moments later I'm lying down, awaiting the procedure. As I'm strapped in I breathe shallowly trying so hard not to cry. It starts. I stop trying. Even when they hold my hand, I cannot stop the tears streaming down my cheeks or the scream building up in my chest as images flash through my mind along with a mantra I can't say aloud anymore. I can't do this. It hurts. I want it to stop. I can't do this, I want it to stop. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. IT. NEEDS. TO. ST-
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---
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Pandora woke with a start. Her face wet, her throat raw, her entire body covered in goose bumps. Looking around frantically she sees she's still in her room.
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"Dammit." She sighs and gets out of bed to go shower. From the look of the clock she hadn't got nearly enough sleep but it didn't matter.
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In the shower she goes over the dream in her mind and silently curses the Nexus. Before that she had never remembered any of her dreams, never! Now she just had the same one over and over and it was beginning to grate on her exhausted nerves. Whatever was happening, she really hoped would subside soon. It needs to stop.

Revision as of 21:14, 7 January 2019

Versatile Tools

Author: Pandora Morozov

Pandora, while usually armed with a custom pistol, loved knives. They were versatile, varied and very good at giving her what she wanted. They worked well as threats. Everyone had a deeply rooted fear of getting stabbed or sliced because they would quickly realise how painful it could get. A gun didn't work as well because a bullet lacked the controlled pain she needed. Sure it could cause indescribable pain but it could always end the 'interview' too soon because of bleed-out. Knives you could leave embedded in someone and not have to worry for a while provided it wasn't pulled out. And the cuts didn't have to be deep either.

Knives were good. Which was why she was spending an afternoon with a designer to make the perfect custom blade. One with multiple functions, relatively easy upkeep and looked amazing. And also after strenuous bartering it was a steal.

All in all she was happy with the outcome as she brought the new weapon home in a lovely ornate box which she left on top of the chair a certain Bodyguard preferred in her office.
He could complain all he liked about her causing him grief but it was unfair to say she didn't treat him nicely every once in a while.

The Hardest Decision

Author: Pandora Morozov

What am I doing? This… this has to be done but. I find myself holding back a panic attack as I repeatedly argue to and fro what the results of this will be. It's not the physical dangers that worry me but the mental ones. The emotional ones.

I sit in shivering in silence. It's dark in this room too which only adds to the isolation. From this point on only one other person is going to see me and it hurts so much that it's not the one I want, can't, say goodbye to.

My name is called and brings me back to my surroundings. I get to my feet steadily, feigning determination in everything but my eyes.

"Are you ready?"

I laugh bitterly. "Ready? No… but I'll still do it."

They nod gently. "I understand this will be hard."

No you don't. You just have to forget you did this. I have to forget everything. I have to forget… I halt that thought immediately as they put a hand on my shoulder. Any anger I felt melted away a little, it was hard to be mad at them. They acted almost like a parent would throughout this unhappy experiment.

"Your form." They remind me with a hint of hesitation.

"Right." Of course I don't even get to keep that. With some effort I alter myself. Younger. Some things I keep, like the colour of my eyes. My clothes I had already changed to simple black combats and a tank top. Indicators of my life removed for protection.

"Let's get this over with." I sigh reluctantly and try not to flinch at how I sound now.

They look over me carefully then zone in on my wrist. Holding out their hand they comment. "The bracelet."

I clasp it with my other hand tightly and shake my head firmly. "Not this. This is the only thing I am keeping if I have to give up everything else. I don't care how childish it is. I don't care."

The other sighs then drops their hand away. "Fine… just that."

While their back is turned to lead me I seal the leather strap to my wrist so that only I can remove it, because I genuinely don't trust them not to try and take it out of some misguided desire to protect.

A few moments later I'm lying down, awaiting the procedure. As I'm strapped in I breathe shallowly trying so hard not to cry. It starts. I stop trying. Even when they hold my hand, I cannot stop the tears streaming down my cheeks or the scream building up in my chest as images flash through my mind along with a mantra I can't say aloud anymore. I can't do this. It hurts. I want it to stop. I can't do this, I want it to stop. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. IT. NEEDS. TO. ST-

---

Pandora woke with a start. Her face wet, her throat raw, her entire body covered in goose bumps. Looking around frantically she sees she's still in her room. "Dammit." She sighs and gets out of bed to go shower. From the look of the clock she hadn't got nearly enough sleep but it didn't matter.

In the shower she goes over the dream in her mind and silently curses the Nexus. Before that she had never remembered any of her dreams, never! Now she just had the same one over and over and it was beginning to grate on her exhausted nerves. Whatever was happening, she really hoped would subside soon. It needs to stop.