2022-05-30: Drowning in Memory

• Cutscene: <Drowning in Memory>
• Cast: <Ple Two>
• Where: <The Shower>
• Date: <2022-05-30>
• Summary: <Puru Two remembers simpler times with one of her ailing clone sisters.>

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| This cutscene takes place after Puru Two is in the same map grid as the | | Garencieres, and by extension, Marida Cruz.) | | | | *** | | | | | | The shower has been running for half an hour, by now. The pump has long | | since flicked over to cyclical mode, because in the age of compact fusion | | reactors, electricity is cheap. Pale fingers splay against ceramic tiles. | | The cubicle's sole occupant does not stand, so much as lean against an | | imminent collapse. | | | | (Eleven identical children strain against their restraints, the | | visors of their normal suits clinking against a porthole. A | | A grand sight awaits them: the sun rising over the mighty spires | | of Axis. Soon to be their new home. To their young eyes, it | | is as wondrous any magic kingdom of legend.) | | | | Almost a perfect white noise, the arrhythmic chattering of water drowns out | | the static from within Puru Two's soul. Her back and neck are seared a | | brilliant red, as if recently slapped. The vapour fills her lungs and | | dizzies her. One finger lies still upon the stud which increases the | | water's temperature, and the display dully blinks: 107 F. | | | | (Ten identical children crowd around one who has fallen in a | | grassy quadrangle. The one who has fallen is thrashing, | | writhing, choking on something so harmless as a mouthful of | | nutrient gel. Being children, they panic. They cry. One | | of them runs for the sliding doors of the compound in search | | of a minder. It's not the fallen girl's fault. Her body is | | tired of the medicines, the augmentations, the changes in | | pressure. Her mind is tired, it resists the rigid structure | | forced on it. This is an unknowing act of rebellion.) | | | | A bath was preferable, but a shower? Almost as good. As each sense | | gradually grows too overloaded to keep track anymore, it's as good as | | turning them off. Eyes squeezed shut, Puru Two stares at the evolving | | fractals of grey-green that dance in the absence of sight. She feels only | | the numb drumming of the shower, hears only the distant roar of blood in | | her ears. The scent of faded shampoo has supplanted anything natural. The | | thin, recycled water in her mouth tastes of nothing. She is as removed | | from the physical world as can be. | | | | (One of these children drops to her knee and throws her | | book aside. The tablet spins lazily, end-over-end, in | | the low Axis gravity. She lifts her gagging sister in her | | arms, covers her eyes with one hand. One less sense to be | | overpowered by. Swiftly now, she moves both hands to the | | girl's abdomen. Closes one hand to a fist. She can feel the | | colour of her sister's presence, wild with panic and yet-- | | so tired. So wearied, ready to just run out of air | | and escape this life.) | | | | Puru Two's mind and spirit linger in the space between past and present, | | somewhere deep within. Withdrawn within her shell, submerged beneath the | | waters of a distant memory. The only place she can escape the whisper of | | nearby minds. Whispers she can usually withstand, but not today. Not right | | now. | | | | (The child with the numeral II on her gown gives a guttural | | grunt of effort as she tugs her fist upwards into her sister's | | ribcage. Choking noises give way to something liquid, wet, awful. | | And then--coughing. Crying. Tears of pain, and relief. The | | thrum of the sick girl's presence regains a warmer tone. | | The chilling fear of the end abates, giving way to more | | pedestrian complaints.) | | | | For eight long years, Puru Two has spent every cent that she has, she has | | stolen and lied and threatened and run from one place to another for a | | single purpose. Forever chasing a sign that someone; any of her kin still | | live. | | | | (A scheduled spring breeze washes over the frightened children. | | The one suffering the most lies with her head buried within her | | savior's lap. Arms loosely cling to her waist. | | Her every sense screams: I want to go home! But this is all home | | is. | | Axis. | | The training compound. | | The staff. | | Each other.) | | | | (Each other.) | | | | | | (Puru Two's hand rests atop her sister's head. She strokes the | | girl's hair. Pats her back between cough-hiccup-sobs. | | Wipes her messy face. Why, she wonders, did that happen? She | | didn't do anything to deserve that. She's so upset. She could | | have died. It wasn't even a fight. | | So stupid. | | So unfair. | | I'll never let something like that happen again. | | Ever.) | | | | The hiss is almost imperceptible as the faucet closes. Pale fingers stab | | repeatedly at the controls. The drumming rainfall soon becomes a staccato | | dripping, a gurgling, and then... a deafening silence. | | | | At least one of them still lives. | | | | She doesn't know how to process it. |