204576 "Machine" (Avox) [fin]
May 29, 2015 0:09:36 GMT -5
Post by Kire on May 29, 2015 0:09:36 GMT -5
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I was human, once. My skin and bones and teeth and eyes were all mine, created during my life in my mother's womb. I had two arms, two legs, and a head all my own. It was all normal, all human. My hair is still mine, but it's been dyed a steel gray - the scientists think it's funny, they think it makes me look more mechanical, and it's hilarious to them how I look twenty years older. (Admittedly, it's not just the hair colour that causes that.) My hair used to be brown, almost a tawny colour. It was average and usual, but I was content with it. The gray does make my jawline stand out more, though, making me look more square and robotic - and tough.
My eyes used to be hazel, a mix of blue, green, and brown, but they had to change that too. They were too human, too normal. One eye was removed to serve as someone's transplant. (It should serve them well, because I never had any problems with my vision.) They replaced my lost eye with one made of glass, created in such a way that it would act like a normal eye. I can see out of it, though sometimes it gets stuck and I have to move it back into the proper position. The iris is electric blue, and through a procedure I wasn't awake for they had managed to turn my other eye the same colour.
They experiment on me, practicing transplants and seeing how many of my parts they can replace with something inhuman. At first they started with a simple tooth transplant, taking out two of my molars and replacing them with teeth from some dead body, claiming that my teeth were rotting. (I suspect it was just because they could do it.) Then they fitted me with a prosthetic arm - the first of many - and said that eventually it would be as though I had never lost the limb in the first place. For a moment I thought they were trying to be kind, but then I realized that I was a guinea pig and any advancements they made would not be for my benefit. Everything was designed to be tested by me so that the general public - or more likely the rich public - would have access to the best technology out there.
Eventually they tried replacing one of my bones with steel, and designed my usual prosthetic arm to be totally mechanical in appearance. With each operation I became less human and more machine. Each time they cut me open I lose more flesh and gain more metal. I can't protest, they took my tongue as their first act, and I can't deny that I am not who I used to be. I used to know what fun was, what love and joy were. I used to spend my days finding things to entertain me, and ways to make people laugh. There was even a girl that I used to have feeling for. Now I can hardly feel anything at all.
Two days before the reaping, in the year I turned seventeen, I decided to put on a show. I climbed the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers were swarming around the base before I had even made it to the halfway point. When I ignored their orders to get down they shot at me. At first they missed and I continued to climb. Then one found his mark, hitting me in the upper arm. I fell.
When I woke up there was a woman looking at me sternly. She chastised me about being foolish, about nearly destroying myself. Then she told me that I had lost my arm. I had spluttered and stared and screamed, tossing what I could reach with my remaining arm at her, at the walls, at the ceiling. My tongue was removed the next day.
Number: 204576I have steel bones and rubber lungs. One eye is glass and two teeth belonged to someone else. I am Frankenstein's monster. I am Machine.
Nickname: Machine, Mech
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Status: Avox
Song: I am Machine
I was human, once. My skin and bones and teeth and eyes were all mine, created during my life in my mother's womb. I had two arms, two legs, and a head all my own. It was all normal, all human. My hair is still mine, but it's been dyed a steel gray - the scientists think it's funny, they think it makes me look more mechanical, and it's hilarious to them how I look twenty years older. (Admittedly, it's not just the hair colour that causes that.) My hair used to be brown, almost a tawny colour. It was average and usual, but I was content with it. The gray does make my jawline stand out more, though, making me look more square and robotic - and tough.
My eyes used to be hazel, a mix of blue, green, and brown, but they had to change that too. They were too human, too normal. One eye was removed to serve as someone's transplant. (It should serve them well, because I never had any problems with my vision.) They replaced my lost eye with one made of glass, created in such a way that it would act like a normal eye. I can see out of it, though sometimes it gets stuck and I have to move it back into the proper position. The iris is electric blue, and through a procedure I wasn't awake for they had managed to turn my other eye the same colour.
They experiment on me, practicing transplants and seeing how many of my parts they can replace with something inhuman. At first they started with a simple tooth transplant, taking out two of my molars and replacing them with teeth from some dead body, claiming that my teeth were rotting. (I suspect it was just because they could do it.) Then they fitted me with a prosthetic arm - the first of many - and said that eventually it would be as though I had never lost the limb in the first place. For a moment I thought they were trying to be kind, but then I realized that I was a guinea pig and any advancements they made would not be for my benefit. Everything was designed to be tested by me so that the general public - or more likely the rich public - would have access to the best technology out there.
Eventually they tried replacing one of my bones with steel, and designed my usual prosthetic arm to be totally mechanical in appearance. With each operation I became less human and more machine. Each time they cut me open I lose more flesh and gain more metal. I can't protest, they took my tongue as their first act, and I can't deny that I am not who I used to be. I used to know what fun was, what love and joy were. I used to spend my days finding things to entertain me, and ways to make people laugh. There was even a girl that I used to have feeling for. Now I can hardly feel anything at all.
Two days before the reaping, in the year I turned seventeen, I decided to put on a show. I climbed the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers were swarming around the base before I had even made it to the halfway point. When I ignored their orders to get down they shot at me. At first they missed and I continued to climb. Then one found his mark, hitting me in the upper arm. I fell.
When I woke up there was a woman looking at me sternly. She chastised me about being foolish, about nearly destroying myself. Then she told me that I had lost my arm. I had spluttered and stared and screamed, tossing what I could reach with my remaining arm at her, at the walls, at the ceiling. My tongue was removed the next day.
Now, I am here.
Now, I am different.
Now, I am no longer human.
Now, I am Machine.
Now, I am different.
Now, I am no longer human.
Now, I am Machine.
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