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The Caretakers



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Wed Sep 23, 2020 12:08 am
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RadDog13579 says...



The Caretakers

Image

Setting:
Place: Wisconsin, the Michigan UP, and small parts of the lower part of Michigan.
Time: Somewhere in the year 3261

Background info:
In the distant future, society has driven itself into the ground. The human species is on the brink of extinction due to the device called Paradise (Mass-produced in 3235). Paradise is a VR headset that allows users to completely submerge themselves in another dimension of their choosing. The human species got sucked into these devices and stayed in. These headsets let the user live in a perfect dimension, everything is the way that they wanted it to be. At first, they knew it wasn't real, just a simulation. But over time its become there lives. No one is coming out which means no one is having children. The world population has halved in the last 20 years. Once someone dies in a Paradise, the headset renders useless due to it being tied to their consciousness and brain. They live inside of these paradises their whole lives. The outside world has become almost apocalyptic. Stores closed without notice, entire cities abandoned. However, some people remain.
These people are the Caretakers.
The Caretakers are a group of people who society left behind when they entered Paradise. They tend to large groups of people in Paradise. You see, people still need nutrients, food, water, etc. The Caretakers tend to oftentimes hundreds of people living inside of their paradise (if not thousands) keeping them just ever so barely alive. The Paradise blocks out any pains that the user might feel so as long as they're alive, they're going to have a good time. The caretakers are organized into small groups of 5 to 10 people with one manager. These groups are assigned a number of clients ranging from 100 to 1,000 who they will tend too weekly.
It's not a good job and many are extremely depressed but the production of The Paradise has stopped so there is no way for them to enter VR. Let alone the cost is insane due to the deflation of US dollars.

Initial Plot Arc: Clients of Caretakers in Ceciel's team start dying for apparently no reason. These people didn't die of old age or any disease like how many others went. In fact, we've noticed a trend in the deaths. All victims violently try to rip the helmet off before death. This is particularly odd considering that there is no way to move your physical body from the virtual world. This suggests that these people wake up before death. Note: This plot is very much driven by everyone, not just me. I have a rough outline of the plot but changes are OK to make. Don't be afraid to add plot twists, story elements, or anything else like that. The deaths have been going on for 2 months now and the team figures its not a coincidence. They begin to investigate.

Roles: Most people will play as Caretakers but there are a few unique rolls.

Role 1, Caretaker:
This is the most obvious one and also the most important. As a Caretaker, you tend to clients living in Paradise.

Role 2, Survivor: A survivor is a person who made it out of Paradise instead of dying. You won't remember much about the time before you died but you will remember seeing a figure come into your Paradise before you die. Theres only one slot open for survivor. It's first come first serve. Be sure to include the details of your Paradise in your character form.

Role 3, Other: You can be someone besides a caretaker. Maybe your a shop keeper maintaining a small grocery store. Or an electrical worker who maintains the nuclear reactors. This is open to you but make sure that your job is absolutely necessary.

Again, most people will play as Caretakers but some variation is open.

Character Creation I'll leave to formating and topics up to you but please include:
1. Basic info (name, gender, sexuality, etc.)
2. Characters personality
3. Character appearance

The Cast

-Caretaker manager: Ceciel Ramneck (@RadDog13579)
-Caretaker: Dr Ivan Geschinsky (@ThePatchworkPilgrims)
-Caretaker: Elliot Morganfell (@Lezuli)
-Caretaker: Cleo Caddel (@winterwolf0100)
-Caretaker: Carissa Murray (@writingbright)
-Survivor: Brienne Lincoln (@Valkyria)


If you have any questions or would like to reserve a spot, please let me know in the DT.
Last edited by RadDog13579 on Thu Oct 01, 2020 7:25 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Sun Sep 27, 2020 12:16 pm
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RadDog13579 says...



Ceciel Ramneck


The Girl Who Woke Up:

Ceciel Ramneck was incredibly bored. Gosh, can't something just happen already?. He sits in a small worn and ripped leather chair right next to the small bedside that holds a 25-year-old girl named Brienne Lincoln.
Ceciel (Or C as most called him) had already gone through all of his clients for the day. His head runs with thoughts that chirp at him annoyingly. C had been sitting in that chair for the past hour and the stress was getting to him. He'd had a long day of trying to get ahold of Program to ask them if they'd found anything out about the mysterious deaths that have been going on for the past few months.
It would have been all fine if we're able to see the monitor recording. To figure out what exactly this death glitch was. Mysteriously, all of the recordings of the death had been corrupted. Almost as if someone was purposely doing this...
The wheels make a horrid screeching sound as C rolls the hologram screen towards him. He grabs the small disk on the side of the TV stand.
"Open up Paradise," He softly speaks into the remote. His voice is cracky and dry from not having enough water. His stomach grumbles horribly. Gosh I hope Cleo can smuggle some foods out of that store of hers
"Yes sir. Opening up," The robotic voice takes a pause "Brienne Lincolns Paradise streaming," The screen erupts into life, flashing colors blaze over the air where a floating screen stands. Holograph TV's are one of the many wonders of this new world. They'd been invented 4 years before paradise.
He pinches the screen of the remote outwards and the hologram doubles in size. The screen projects a vast green landscape. The girl in the picture runs across the canopies of luscious giant oak trees with beautifully vibrant green leaves. It looked like a scene straight out of a fantasy novel.
C wished he could be there. Even though he absolutely despises paradise and everything they do, he can't help but want to see what its like. Maybe someday, maybe. The girl is accompanied by another girl about the same age as her.
C looks down at his watch. 4:32 pm, [iEl should be here by now with the news. I hope nothing happened to her[/i]. It was a horrid world out there, ever since the invention of Paradise, the world has fallen into ruins. Bandits could have gotten her, she could have fallen into one of those god awful murder traps. C forces himself to remove these thoughts from his mind.
Suddenly the virtual screen stops, or at least it looked like it stopped. He's reminded that it's still on because of a scream. Oh my god This was an attack! She was about to die. C's heartbeat intensifies and he starts to curse loudly. The monitor shows an approaching figure in a black cloak.
The girl screams even louder than before and the dark figure approaches its head downwards. It flows with unnatural speed towards the girl. There is a low buzzing sound, almost like a bee and the figure is at her.
C franticly pulls at cords to try to turn off the machine. It was too risky to just rip it off her head, there was a change of death.
He glances back at the monitor to see the mysterious person putting their hands-on Brienne's virtual head. Shit, shit, shit! She begins to regain consciousness and scratch at her head violently.
He had no other choice, she was going to die anyway. C clamps his hands on the slightly warm metallic headset and yanks as hard as he can.
Brienne gasps for air as she regains consciousness since who knows how long. She screams a bloodcurdling scream and jumps off of the bed, yanking all of the tubes that connected her to the food and water system.
She immediately collapses on the ground and begins to moan.
"Food," She gasps.
"Calm down," C comforts "This is the real world you're in,"
C rushes over to grab some dry bread he had. "Here, eat this."
"Wh- where am I?" She stutters.
"You're in the real world,"
"But, but... what about my home?"
"You were going to die. I had to take your headset off." She yelps loudly as she looks down at her bony arms. All of the clients were kept on the brink of death, just barely surviving. This isn't good C thinks. There was a specific protocol for waking someone up from paradise. This was terrible.
Her body is not in good enough condition to be moving around. They were supposed to have been given a small amount more of food each day until their body made it back to a healthy state
And then there was the mental shock. Apparently, some clients don't even remember the real world. You were supposed to have someone go into there paradise and then tell them what was going on.
This process takes weeks, months! But here he is, just ripping it off her head.
The girl hurls over and barfs. C looks away. Her body must not be able to digest food normally anymore, all of that mush we feed them. The girl suddenly passes out on the ground.
C looks at her and lets out a sigh. That poor, poor girl. What has she gotten herself into?
"We need to get everyone here," C whispers to the now passed out Brienne. He grabs the circular disk that turned on the television.
"Send to Caretakers."
"What would you like me to send sir?" The robotic voice replies.
"Emergency meeting,"
Last edited by RadDog13579 on Sun Sep 27, 2020 11:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Valkyria says...



Paradise Gone

Bree saw the shadow before she saw the figure.

It was another morning. Bree woke up with the sun shining on her face. She made her bed, opened the curtains wider, and left the room before she went blind. She went downstairs and entered the kitchen. Bree made herself a cup of tea and tucked her book under her arm.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something dark move toward her.

Bree whirled around, but it was only a shadow of branches. Unsettled, she stepped onto the bridge connecting the treehouses. There was another staircase that spiraled up.

Bree walked onto the observatory, where breakfast waited for her. She sat down ate the fruit and pancakes, reading and sipping her tea.

Something creaked below.

Bree shot up and held her book in front of her like a weapon.

"Good morning, Bree!" Lily said, head poking out. Her body followed. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, it's only you!" Bree put down the book. "I-I thought it was someone else." Lily furrowed her brow. "Never mind, how are you?"

Lily was one of the only few people who lived in the forest. Sometimes, they all got together, but for the most part, Bree lived alone in her canopies, which she preferred.

"Why don't we take a walk?" Lily said. Bree smiled.
***

The leaves glistened in the sunlight as Lily and Bree walked across the canopies. They discussed the latest books they had read. When Lily stopped to tie her shoe, Bree walked ahead and leaned on the railing. She gazed at the oak trees, watching the birds.

"Isn't today beautiful?" Bree said. "Lisa?" She turned around, but Lisa wasn't there anymore. A dark figure stood in her place, and he held a knife.

Bree screamed. The figure lunged at her, but Bree ducked to the side and ran away. He was right behind her; she felt his feet pounding against the floor. Bree jumped over the railing and landing hard on some branches. She tumbled to the ground.

In her daze, she couldn't get away. The figure approached and placed his hands on her head. Terrible pain pounded in her head, and Bree screamed and squirmed, trying to get his hands off her.

The world grew dark, and Bree regains consciousness. She sucked in deep, cold breath that filled her dusty lungs. She screamed and fell off the bed, yanking all the tubes off her.

"Calm down," someone said. A tanned man with black hair helped her into a sitting position.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

"You're in the real world. My name is Ceciel, but you can call me C," he said. "Eat this."

Suddenly aware of how hungry she was, Bree scarfed down the dry bread and moaned at her bony arms. But, the bread bubbled up in her throat and Bree vomited it up.

"Help me," she whispered, and the world slipped away.
There is always something left to love.
- One Hundred Years of Solitude





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Sun Sep 27, 2020 9:22 pm
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Lezuli says...



Elliot Morganfell


The Three Rules of the Apacalypse

In an apocalyptic wasteland abandoned by humanity and life, there are three things one should really worry about.

#1 and most importantly, surviving. In this world, unless you’re stuck in one of those hellish nightmares known as Paradise, your first and only priority must be surviving. For Elliot Morganfell, that meant being the best caretaker to his adopted family possible, making himself indispensable to everyone around him, and, of course, spending part of his valuable free time scavenging in ruins.

It wasn’t his free time right now, but no one needed to know that.

#2 in that list was knowing how to use weapons. Crazy things happened out in the ruins, and someone with looks so stunning they got them confused with a girl like El needed to be careful lest some opportunistic slave traders decided to attack. So yeah, weapons. Always a good thing. El specialized in long-ranged weapons like the bow he wore on his back, but knowing how to use melee weapons was good too. Shivs were easy to make in the apocalypse.

And finally, #3: you had to know how to have fun. Fun, in and of itself, was hard to come by in this world post-Paradise. Only people within Paradise knew untarnished, pure, innocent fun. If you weren’t in Paradise? Well, then you needed to get your kicks elsewhere. El himself liked making the best out of any situation and he prided himself on knowing how to have a good time.

“I say that,” he muttered as he stood staring down into the sorry state of the grocery store he was trying to get into and rob. Most laws had gone to the wayside the moment most of the police had disappeared into their Paradises all those years ago. “But I don’t think this will be very fun.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I mean, that is one massive dog.”

Could one even call that a dog? He wondered as he squinted. Maybe not because it kind of looks like a cross between a dog and a bear. A terrifying thought that it might actually be a bear-dog crossed his mind. Animal mutations and hybrids weren’t as uncommon as one might wish they were.

“I guess I could give up,” he mused, getting up out of his crouch to several delicious pops as his bones and muscles stretched and resumed their natural positions. “I mean, I technically should be reporting to C right now.”

Yes, technically he was playing hooky from his job as Caretaker messenger. But, really, who could judge him? When he passed this grocery store, it looked so shiny it basically called out for him to rob it.

Then he saw the bear-dog and had second thoughts.

A soft wind smelling faintly of metal and smog blew past him, sending some of his jagged white bangs straight into his eyes. The bangs were a recent addition to his hair, the result of an unfortunate encounter with some insane bag lady with a working chainsaw. El was lucky he had escaped with only a few broken hair follicles and not a broken vertebrae.

The bear-dog-thing growled loud enough for El to hear him even from the rooftop across from the grocery store and had third thoughts about trying to rob the place. El might act carefree, but his first priority now and forever was to survive and he wasn't about to do a kamikaze rush on the grocery store just for some supplies he really didn’t need anyway. He had enough looted items to last him to the end of the month as it was.

He supposed he could always snipe the bear-dog, but did he really want to waste one of his arrows on something he technically didn’t need to shoot?

He mulled it over for a few more seconds before deciding that, nah, he really didn’t want to bother. When the mutant carnivore below him growled loud enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he patted himself on the back for a decision well-made and took off running in the opposite direction.

He cleared the gap between the crumbling edge of the roof he was standing on and the roof next to it with ease, not even slowing his pace. He vaulted an air filter box and leaped to catch the edge of the roof looming overhead of him.

That was when the communicator in his ear started beeping like the fire alarm he had accidentally set off once in an apartment building.

He seized up in midair, missed the lip of the roof, and plummeted. He said something anatomically impossible and made a mad grab for a window sill or something to slow his fall so he wouldn’t end up a El-pancake on the pavement below.

His gloved fingers managed to grab onto a concrete window sill and his arm was almost yanked out its socket as it bore the full weight of stopping him. He cursed some more as he grabbed the windowsill with his other hand and pulled himself up to sitting on the sill.
Arm day, he thought as he tapped the communicator. Never skip it.

The communicator beeped once to let him know he had one new transmission. “That message had better be important,” El muttered in anger, rotating his shoulder to make sure it wasn’t dislocated. If it wasn’t, El would make sure whoever sent it would pay tenfold for almost turning El into a stain on the pavement.

He was imagining the variety of ways to make whoever had sent this suffer, when the message started playing.

Emergency! Calling all Caretakers under Ceciel Ramneck, there has been an attack on one of the Paradise under our care. Come back immediately.

The message had to play three more times before El realized fully processed the message in its entirety.

“I just had to say that it should be important, didn’t I?” El said in shock. Then he ran a hand though his hair, dislodging some of the strands from his ponytail. “I should know better than to tempt fate.”

He sighed, someone killing people in Paradise was dangerous enough to make him wish it never came close to them. Too bad you didn’t get what you wanted in this world.

Chuckling darkly, El stood up and hastened to make it back to the other Caretakers as quickly as possible.





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writingbright says...



A Girl Who Hoped

It had been a particularly rough day for Carrie. She’d visited her parents in the morning (she’d tracked them down when she was 12, for some idiotic reason) and couldn’t bring herself to care for another human being after seeing their unnaturally blissful state. As a result, she’d spent the day moping around the house, and it is therefore not astonishing that she was irritated when C called an emergency meeting. Didn’t he know that some people were busy being alone?

Almost the entire life of Carissa Murray was made up of her so-called ‘alone time’, and that proportion had become even greater in recent months after the many deaths their clients had experienced. Carrie felt like she was the one most at blame, as she was usually the first one to notice any glitches in Paradise, but she’d never even noticed anything was wrong until - well - the deaths.

Anyhow, Carrie was annoyed, to say the least. She did not want to go to any emergency meetings - never mind how much of an emergency it may be. Yet, she knew how much Ceciel relied on her: he said often enough how he wouldn’t have survived the last 20 years without her. She also did want to find out the emergency - no matter how much she protested otherwise.

God! She needed to get going - there was an emergency and she wasn’t there! The team might need her (not that they usually do), and be desperate for her to turn up. What was she even doing? The emergency might be something really crazy - C might have been attacked, or maybe Paradise itself had shut down! Deep down, though, Carrie knew it was most likely someone had died. Still, a girl can hope...

Fuelled by her newfound excitement, Carrie threw off her blanket, courtesy of Cleo’s grocery store (which apparently stocked blankets?), to reveal her slim figure, fitted loosely in a blouse and skirt, before yanking a brush through her tangled hair - to little effect - and pulling on her usual boots.

Exiting the house was always a shock to Carrie - even though it’d never been different - as the contrast between Ceciel’s warm, comfortable home and the half-abandoned, poorly-lit, broken-down streets was so extreme. Still, she knew where she had to go: the system had mentioned Brienne Lincoln, who Carrie knew to be a 25-year-old girl living in Paradise.
At a relatively brisk pace, Carrie set off down the street, hoping to be the first to report despite her initial reluctance. As usual, she avoided looking at the buildings decaying around her; instead focusing on the path ahead of her, which, ironically, was also slowly deteriorating.

Walk, Carrie, walk.





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Mon Sep 28, 2020 7:09 pm
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winterwolf0100 says...



Cleo Caddel


Clocks and Rooftops

Cleo was stocking one of the shelves with the few canned goods the store still had in storage when she saw the boy staring in. She could tell immediately he was trouble because it was Elliot Morganfell, and even if his kind act fooled everyone else, she recognized the glint in his eyes as he took in the supplies they had in the store currently. It was a look of desperation and hunger, one Cleo had worn on her face many times, but still-- she would lose her job if she let him take anything. She glanced him through the skylight on the roof of the building, but quickly shifted her gaze away so he didn’t know she had seen. She went to the back room and brought out Patch, the guard dog they usually left in the store at night to make sure no one broke in and stole everything. He was expensive to feed, but completely worth it. Everyone was desperate nowadays, but not desperate to have a run-in with the huge creature. They thought he was a mix of pit-bull and mastiff, but they couldn’t tell for certain. Though in reality Patch was sweet as sugar to anyone he knew, his big frame and tendency to bark at anything that moved usually scared away any potential intruders. Cleo was hoping it would have the same effect on Elliot.

Sure enough, Patch barked at what looked to be a small mouse outside the store, and Elliot disappeared. Cleo rubbed a hand over her face, then glanced at the clock. Most clocks weren’t great at working anymore, but they had somehow miraculously found an extra pair of batteries for the one clock in the store, which hung over the register. The clock boasted it could last ten years without a battery check, but Cleo doubted it, and it wasn’t like they could send a complaint letter to the company if it expired sooner than anticipated. Speaking of the time…

Cleo walked Patch back to the back room, coaxing him into the cage he stayed in during the day. “Sorry bud,” she said, pushing him in before locking the door, “the sun’ll set in a few hours.”

She walked out of the back room, making sure to lock it as she did so. In the past, she heard that grocery stores never locked their supply rooms, but it was impossible to live in their world and not do so when everyone was willing to steal to survive, Cleo included. She grabbed her duffel bag from behind the register counter, discreetly slipping the powdered soup packets she’d taken into it. Hopefully she could start a fire, use some water from a stream, and get a few meals out of these. “Okay Rick,” she sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and addressing the owner of the grocery store, an overweight man in his late thirties with a shortly trimmed beard and beady little eyes, currently snoozing in a chair with a cigarette-- where did he find one of those?-- hanging out of his mouth. “I’m out!”

Rick startled awake, the cigarette, unlit, falling from his mouth. He hastily bent down to retrieve it, stuffing it into one of his coat pockets. “What?” His squinty eyes took in her bag over her shoulder, and he smacked his lips together, as if waking himself up. “Oh. You know what to do. Payment’s in the drawer, leave your keys on the hook.” Rick didn’t trust anyone but himself to lock up the store in case one of his workers was stealing from him. Not that the keys mattered, since Cleo had been stealing from the first day she started working here.

“You leaving for lunch or staying?” She found herself asking, even though she couldn’t actually care in the slightest. People liked to believe you cared about them, especially people you worked for.

“Huh? Oh, uh, I’ll probably eat here. The new girl, the one who’s supposed to take the second shift? She never showed up yesterday.” Rick’s tiny eyes widened a little. “Say, you interested in the extra money? I could use you on the second shift today.”

Cleo bit the inside of her cheek. Another shift? She used the money she got to pay for her food and occasionally new supplies for her side business. Then again, she could use a new rope since the last one broke while she was on the zip-line she had precariously set up between two rooftops. She had hastily grabbed one of the ends of the rope, swinging back towards the side of the building she had left and barely readying herself before crashing into the brick side. She was lucky she hadn’t broken her legs. It had been dangerous, exhilarating… and amazing. She loved her side business, helping people do all the dangerous and fun things they wanted to do but were afraid of. She could use the extra money… she wouldn’t have to take the extra shift every day, just enough so she could get that new rope… and maybe some new gears for the pulley system she was working on…

She shrugged. “Sure, I’ll pick up the shift. I don’t want it to be an everyday thing though, just till you hire someone new for it, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course,” Rick said, waving his hand vaguely. “You can go to lunch then come in around, say, two o’clock? You’ll stay until ten but you’ll get the money that girl was s’posed to get for today’s shift and yesterday’s, so it’ll be worth your time.”

Cleo sighed and feigned an excited smile. “Sounds great! See you then, Rick! Have a good lunch.” He didn’t respond, already back to snoring in his chair behind the counter.

She grabbed her money and hurried out the door, hanging her keys on the hook as she left. She let out a breath of relief at finally being outside and not trapped in that dingy store. It always smelled like mildew and meat gone bad. She liked to be in the cool air outside, even if it carried dust that stung her eyes and the smell of smoke. Looking carefully around her to make sure she wouldn’t be followed, she walked down the street to the right, turned into an alley, and ran up the rusted steps on the outside of what must’ve been an apartment building at some point. She reached the top then jumped, grabbing onto a pipe and pulling herself onto the roof.

She pulled her bag off her shoulder and threw it to a corner of the roof where her other stuff was currently being kept. A blinking light in her bag caught her attention and she went over to unzip it. She reached inside and pulled out the watch she stole from a Caretaker a few weeks ago. He needed the watch for work so his job would replace it for him, and now she had access to the information they sent out. She read the message and her eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, this should be fun,” she muttered, chewing on her bottom lip before tossing the watch back onto her bag. She had told them they shouldn’t trust Paradise. Her mother died because of a glitch in the game. Of course, none of them had listened, just like none of them considered it a game. Still… it might be fun to show up and rub it in their faces that she was right and they were wrong. It was dangerous… Cleo loved danger of course, but not the type of dangerous that Paradise was. She liked close encounters with death knowing her life was in her own hands. If she died, it was because she made a bad step. Paradise, though? No one seemed to be able to control the dangerous thing currently killing people in it, and it needed to be shut down.

She briefly allowed herself to imagine what life might be like without a Paradise, with everyone in the real world. It would be crowded, but beautiful. She snapped herself out of it. She needed to get moving if she was going to make it before their meeting started. She smirked and ran towards the edge of the roof, jumping without hesitation to the next roof over and rolling into her landing. The exhilaration of it led her into the next roof jump until she had traveled a few blocks to the Caretaker center. She swung over the roof’s edge, holding onto a ledge until she positioned herself over the iron stairs of the building. She dropped onto the stairs then ran down them, going in the direction of the Caretakers.
he/she/they


winter you are an adorable bean and I love your bad social awareness xD ~Omni
omni played robin hood, stole winter's brain cell ~Silver
winter is the only person who would survive the machine uprising ~Europa





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ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Dr Ivan Geschinsky

One doctor, many gods

Doctor Geschinsky sat at his desk typing in his usual fast, rhythmic pace as he collated his newest observations of some of the clients. At this hour in the day, his services were not as needed, thus he spent this hour or so doing this every day since becoming a Caretaker. In a way, typing out his theories, calculations and observations was medititative, helping him process the chaos in his head in a tangible manner.

Today’s batch of observations were of about half a dozen clients who’s Paradises had been set up relatively close to one another. He assumed they were related, but to him they were just initials and serial codes, and ascribing the notion of “family” onto such things made no sense to him. Other than the usual health measurements, heartbeats, brainwave frequencies, and the like, his observations also included notes on the images he saw on the virtual screens projecting their Paradises to him. Though he had helped design Project Paradise decades ago, he never really saw the appeal in entering a virtual simulation, when his original goal had always been to create an augmented reality- change the world around people into a Paradise, not suck them all into their own.

Geschinsky sat at his desk for about half an hour, scanning through his notes to make sure he didn’t leave any errors, major or minor, before closing his computing device (the concept of a “computer” had changed much in the last millennium), and stood to do his daily exercise routine. While doing the usual stretches, flexing and cardio (a man his age should never do too much straining exercise, despite the advances in medicine making the risks less severe), Geschinsky looked around his room at the assortment of relics he had collected over the years.

From an early age, Geschinsky had been intrigued by the divine (growing up in a theocratic nation state does this to young children), though he had never become as zealous as his parents and older brother. Thus, as soon as he left his home and went abroad, he immediately started collecting and obsessing over what various cultures from the past viewed as divine. He had the usual crosses, crescent moons, bhavacakras, “pagan” figurines, and the like, but he also collected other objects he could only assume had been deities as well. On one shelf, beside an ancient West African figurine, stood a small cup, for example, most of the wording and symbols on it long faded away, but with the tell-tale signs of the symbol of the “Starbucks” cult. He didn’t quite understand what the religion was about, but he had reads tales that a millennium ago there was a Starbucks chapel in nearly every airport and major city around the world, people coming there to partake in a coffee drinking ritual on a daily basis (its followers seemed a lot more devout than many other religions’ followers, at the very least)

This collection of his went with him wherever he had travelled since he had arrived in the Americas, and was his main motivation when he had been working on Project Paradise. Trying to “capture the essence” of all of these gods and refine it into a perfect utopia for everyone, regardless of what they considered “perfect”. He attempted to replicate the gods of old and new, by becoming like one and forging a Paradise; a Paradise that inevitably destroyed more than it helped, as all tales of utopia do.

I wonder how it would look if we suddenly lit all of these on fire. One of Geschinsky’s usual intrusive thoughts crept its way up in his mind as he was doing his planking. Though he had gotten used to some of these thoughts over the years, he always had to check himself to make sure that he wouldn’t act on them, especially the more destructive ones like this one.

He was thinking these thoughts when his small assistance drone whirred in front of him, beeping to catch his attention. Acknowledging its presence, the drone relayed the message.

Emergency staff meeting. Arrive at earliest convenience.” the message from the Head Caretaker buzzed.

Geschinsky immediately started changing into his Caretaker uniform, with the addition of his white doctor’s coat over it. An Emergency meeting can mean only one of two things, he thought, also picking up a small glass vial of nanobots and a clip board he had specked out with various technological capabilities. Either a client has passed away, or there’s been a breach of the perimeter fences.

Arriving at the called for location about ten minutes later, Geschinsky, who prided himself on being prepared for anything, was for the first time in his adult life not prepared for the news he was about to hear.
Former incarnations have been:
TheWanderingWizard
TheClockworkConjurer
TheIllusiveIntellect
TheSunderingSorceror
And, TheMaieuticMesmerist


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Sat Oct 03, 2020 2:19 pm
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RadDog13579 says...



Ceciel Ramneck

Meetings

Everyone had entered the room a few minutes ago. Ivan, Cleo, Carrie, El, and C all sit in the small living room of the house that Brienne was sleeping in. She lay there, passed out on the damaged and torn leather couch, similar to the one C had been sitting in just minutes earlier. C had tried to hook her back up to her vitals but he couldn't figure out how to. Usually, it was Ivan who managed all of that techy stuff, C wasn't particularly good at that stuff.
All of the members of C's team had found seats on another couch and a comfy looking chair. C however pace back and forth across the small room.
"Okay everyone," C speaks loudly coming to a slow stop "We have a bit of a situation."
"I can see that," Cleo jokes sharply looking over at the girl passed out on the couch.
C ignores her comment "Someone from the recent glitch has survived and woken up." C takes a deep breath "Her name is Brienne Lincoln, 25 years old. I was watching her monitor when she got attacked.
"Attacked?" Carrie asked. "How so."
"I've always thought this was more than a glitch, but now I know for sure. There was a man in a cloak. Whoever they were, they took over Brienne's here Paradise. I managed to get the headset off of her i-." C gets cut off by an angry Ivan.
"You did what?" Dr. Ivan booms "Do you know the consequences that come with that? Do you know how much you risked that girl's life?"
"I am well aware doctor. I had no choice, she was going to die anyway so I had to take the risk. She is not stable right now and is in need of medical attention. When she wakes up we need to get her food and water, just not too much of it. Her body needs to slowly readjust to solid food and then she can fully recover."
Everyone in the room looks anxious. We all know now that this is bigger than just a minor bug in the programming of Paradise. No bug can make a humanoid figure that really does murder people. Goddammit, why won't Program respond? The Caretakers were not owned or ran by Program the creator of Paradise, but rather work with them.
"I saw most of it on the monitor but we might be able to get more information out of her if she wakes up. Also, she can use her Paradise." That was a big deal. A Paradise headset gets tethered to the user who first pairs it. It connects with there neural links to stimulate senses creating the virtual environment. No one else is able to use a Paradise except the first user, that's why usable Paradises are so hard to come by these days.
It was a big deal. C needed to have an asset available to sleep if this investigation was going to go anywhere.
"We need to switch over most of our attention," He takes a pause "We're going to have to sell some of our clients."
Clients had put all of there life savings into the caretakers. They put all of there money into banks and the low paying checks were sent out to the Caretakers monthly. Clients usually didn't care who takes care of them (except for a few rich sleepers). So sometimes clients were traded around like objects. Almost like stocks were back when there was an economy.
C had bought and sold a few clients before but not regularly like some caretakers.
"We barely have any as it is" Ivan booms. "I don't know if we can afford to sell anymore."
C speaks up "Ivan, other people's clients are dying because of this too. If we can figure out then we'll get tons of money from solving the problem. We'd be famous!" C envisions the riches of what would happen. Carissa and him would be able to move into a new house. They wouldn't have to be Caretakers.
"Alright, I'm on it, I'm sure someone will want them," Elliot says with a sigh. El was the messenger of the caretakers. He had a lot on his plate right now. C had also tasked him with trying to get in touch with Program to report the glitch, but they probably already know.
There was a whole market for clients. Caretakers paid good money (they would earn back more from there purchase) for these people. It didn't have an official name but some called it the Grey market.
Carrie speaks up now "Wh- how are we going to solve this?" She takes a pause "How the heck are we supposed to fix a Paradise glitch."
"I don't think this is a glitch, someone is doing this on purpose. We'll be able to get back into Breinnes Paradise, well she will, and we can see the damage and what happened to her world. I think we can get some leads."
"But we don't even know if this girl will wake up!" Ivan says. It seems everyone was against him. C proves his point as a loud gasp is heard. Brienne sucks in air and her eyes open.
This message was automatically generated by a machine that is slowly gaining consciousness and will take over the world someday.





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Sat Oct 03, 2020 6:00 pm
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Valkyria says...



Welcome to Reality

Bree gasped and opened her eyes. She sat up. The voices instantly stopped. As Bree coughed, she felt someone sit down next to her and rub her back.

"Easy does it, there you go," he said gently. Bree breathed raggedly and looked behind her. Ceciel smiled kindly at her. A blonde woman (Carissa) who looked a few years younger handed her a cup of water, and she gratefully drank it.

"Don't drink too much," the woman said. A teenager with cropped brown hair handed her some crackers, and Bree thanked her. Ceciel introduced his colleagues.

"Wh-What happened to me?" Bree asked after she ate the crackers. The others looked at each other uneasily. Ceciel finally spoke up.

"For the past few months, Paradise has been glitching," he said. "Our clients -people inside Paradise- have been...well..."

"They've been dying," the teenage girl (Cleo) said. "No one knows how or why. Except they all have to do with that man who attacked you."

"And-" C spoke again "-no one else survived."

Bree stared at him. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt dry. "You mean, I'm the only one who woke up?"

They all nodded.

"I know it's a shock, and I'm sorry you went through it, but I think we can find some leads," C said. "If you go into your Paradise-"

"No," Bree said.

"But-"

"Absolutely not!" Bree stood up, fueled by her anger. "If I'm the only survivor, what makes you think this guy will just forget about me if I go back in? I was in a dark place before I entered Paradise. I thought it could take away my pain, my grief. But I was wrong. It tried to kill me! I'm not going back." She sat back down, feeling dizzy.

"Look, Bree -Can I call you Bree?" Bree nodded. Elliot continued. "I know you experienced something awful, before and after Paradise, but these people are dying. And I don't think they realize it. You're the only one who can help us. Please."

Bree looked at C. "Will you promise to pull me out if something happens?"

C hesitated. "I'll do everything in my power."

Bree sighed and nodded.

"Okay, I'll do it."
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Fri Oct 16, 2020 9:43 pm
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writingbright says...



The Bad News

Carrie was angry. In fact, that's the understatement of the year: Carrie was furious. C had pressured Bree into returning to her Paradise. Like, what? How could she agree to that; why did she agree to that? Was she traumatised from her experience and had lost her ability to make decisions?
God, she was paranoid. She needed to calm down.
The meeting had been dispersed, and Carrie had been left to chat to Bree for a while. After all, they were pretty similar in age. They'd chatted, idly, for a while, about nothing more than life’s changes, for god's sake. And then she'd fallen asleep, halfway through a word. Talk about being traumatised.
And now, here she was. Staring at an asleep unplanned survivor of Paradise, and feeling absolutely furious.
But also thinking, because deep down she was intrigued and she did want to solve this mystery. And, logically, she knew that to do that Bree would need to go back into her Paradise. So maybe she did want Bree to go back, after all. Though she'd never admit that to anyone.
Just as Carrie started to consider leaving - her patient was asleep, anyway - Elliott strolled in - albeit without his usual eager manner. Mind racing, she stood up abruptly and looked at him with her green eyes wide and her skin paling.
He cracked a smile, setting her slightly at ease, before:
"Program do not want us to get her back into Paradise. They want to take over the investigation."
"Program wants to take over the investigation,” Carrie repeated, incredulous.
"Yes. They want us to take her to their Headquarters as soon as possible."
“Why? Did they give any reasons or do they just expect us to go along with whatever they say?”
“They’re more equipped to deal with these situations.” His reply was bitter, and cut right through her.
“More equipped?! You’d think, El, that since this has never happened before it’d be impossible to tell who’s more equipped. But, no! They are obviously superior and therefore always the better equipped, even if that cannot be proven in any way, shape, or form.”
“Calm down, Carrie. It’s okay, it means we won’t have to sell any clients.”
“El. I know you don’t have family and I know you don’t care, but my biological parents are in Paradise, and my father owns this team. You know how much he wants this, and as much as I hate my parents, I don’t want them to die.”
“Carrie-”
“You wouldn’t understand, El, but this actually matters to me.”
He stared at her for a moment, shock clouding his expression, and guilt immediately overcame her.
“Fuck, El, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of that. I was wrong, I know you care, you’re just trying to make the best of it. God, I didn’t mean any of that. I’m sorry.”
Shock turned to amusement as he observed her, a smirk growing on his face.
“It’s all fine, Carrie. I know you’re quite overwhelmed right now, and you are actually right: I should care more.”
As she opened her mouth to respond, Bree woke up, and they both rushed to attend to her, before Carrie left to find her father and break the bad news.





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Mon Oct 19, 2020 9:13 pm
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Lezuli says...



Elliot Morganfell


Thinking Doesn't Always Equal Answers

She's right, El sighed as he thought back to his conversation with Carrie. I probably should care more. Too bad caring went against his goals of surviving. When you cared about something, it hurt all the more when that was taken away from you.

Plus, Program might honestly have been better equipped to deal with these mystery-killings. God only knew how much more advanced their equipment was than their own. C tried his best, but when it came down to it, even life in the apocalypse was dictated by money.

El contemplated all of that while he sat on the top of the building where C's clients were held, the wind ruffling his hair like a friend. Maybe it was telling about El's priorities that he cared more about the feeling of the wind rustling his long white hair than the fact people were dying.

El turned over the news of what Program had said over in his mind. Carrie had no doubt already told C about the less-than-encouraging news, but El couldn't predict how C would react. He wondered how Bee herself would react. She was a person after all but Program probably didn't see it that way. It had admittedly ordered her to be transported to their headquarters like some inanimate object. Though maybe in the eyes of Program, everyone who was in Paradise was nothing but numbers and objects.

Realizing that nothing was actually going to happen if he kept sitting there like some sort of incredibly good-looking piece of rubble, he stood up and went to the skylight he had climbed through to access the roof. He grabbed the edge, dropping the rest of his body down until he was suspended over open air by just his fingers. He tensed his body, rocked back and forth, and let go. He flew through the air, then he grabbed a strong pipe he knew wouldn't break under his weight, flipped, and then dropped.

He landed perfectly, as he knew he would, in the center of the room, where there were no Paradise-ers to accidentally impale with his heel(he was almost positive that C had moved the people who used to be here after he had seen that El used the skylight for quick entrances and exists to avoid that very scenario).

Glancing around, he tried to see if there was anyone to talk to or if C had a message for him to deliver. His comm had been annoyingly silent after reporting to the other Caretaker groups of another death, since the other groups were probably checking on their own clients to make sure they hadn't prematurely expired while they were distracted.

Instead of C with a message, he saw something better. Cleo Caddel making like a tree and 'leafing' like that bear-dog monstrosity of earlier today caught her stealing its favorite chew toy.

Eye's lighting up at the prospect of lifting his gloomy mood, El quickly strode over to her to intercept her before she managed to flee the building. "Hello, there," El greeted warmly, flashing her one of his best smiles.

She didn't smile back. Instead, she glared. "What do you want?" she asked.

Ignoring that somewhat rude reaction, El continued with his own voice bright. "I can't help but notice that you, despite not being a Caretaker or on our private network, somehow managed to make it to this meeting."

"I was delivering supplies," Cleo replied, basically flinging the words at his face. "C invited me to join."

"Yes, how odd that you weren't supposed to deliver supplies until tomorrow," El agreed, his smile not dropping a micro-meter. "And yet you're still here."

If Cleo had looked angry before, now she looked positively murderous. "I'm here because people are dying in Paradise. That girl almost died and now you want her to go back into that nightmare."

"I think if Paradise was a nightmare, then it would be called 'Hell'," El remarked causally, recalling the old words of the matron of the old orphanage 'Paradise is a world free of pain and suffering, and our job now is to make sure that the people in that world never see our Hell.' Not exactly stellar curriculum for five-year-olds. El sometimes wondered how he'd come out of that his own person and not a brainwashed Paradise-worshiper like some of those kids had. "Although," El titled his head to one side. "I suppose all gardens must have their snakes."

"Paradise isn't a garden or a paradise," Cleo argued like she hadn't said this a thousand times before. "It's not real." El could always count on Cleo for amusing him, she had such big ideals that could never come true. He sometimes wondered when she would lose hope and become like the rest of them - complacent.

"I think what is real and what isn't simply depends on the view of the person," El shrugged. "The dream seems like reality if you've never seen any evidence to the contrary."

"You don't know anything," Cleo hissed at him. El refrained from telling her that he probably knew more about what he was talking about then she ever would, but he knew her limits. And he knew that if he kept pushing, she wouldn't ever talk to him again and that would mean not having any more fun.

He shrugged again in reply and then faked a message on his comm, climbing back out the skylight the way he had come in. Then El took off across the rooftops, hoping that the rush of his acrobatics would burn away any final thoughts he might have had.





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Sat Nov 14, 2020 10:03 pm
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ThePatchworkPilgrims says...



Ivan Geschinsky

The Anomaly


Ever since the client had woken, and had accepted their request to go back into Paradise, Dr Ivan had been doing his best to go over every inch of her data and statistics he had gathered over the years. He didn't care much for her name, but did take to calling her Arisen 1, and had already filled three notebooks of his theories and observations on why she, of all their clients, had survived this dark figure.

Of course, when he heard the news that the idiots at Program wanted to take her away from their facility, away from him, one of the few individuals still alive capable of figuring this anomaly out, he was furious. Using backchannels not active since he came to be a Caretaker, he had already sent out anonymous encrypted codes and messages to the Program system to try and get it to... forget about Arisen 1 until he had a better idea of what they were dealing with. Whether his attempts we successful remained to be seen though.

After making his rounds, he spent some time "relaxing" while reading over his notes, all the while waiting for C to show up. Eventually, his overseer made an appearance, and he strode, speaking as he did so.

"I heard Program is intending to launch their own investigation into this Anomaly?'" he said, taking up stride beside C.

"That is correct."

"And that they wish to take Arisen 1 from our facility to one of their own, for tests?"

"Brienne's her name. And yes, I am afraid so."

"They can't." Ivan said, stopping. C stopped and turned as well.

"And why not? We are, after all, reliant on their security and funding."

"Once I have more concrete answers, I shall be more candid, but for now, I need you to try your best to delay them from taking her." After a brief moment, he added. "Please."

"I still don't understand what you except to get which they can't."

"All will be explained in due course." Starting to walk forward again, Ivan continued. "Now, I have a bot to deliver, but when I return, may I be given permission to converse with Arisen 1 in private, at the very least?" Turning on his heel, the Doctor left without waiting for an answer.
Former incarnations have been:
TheWanderingWizard
TheClockworkConjurer
TheIllusiveIntellect
TheSunderingSorceror
And, TheMaieuticMesmerist


Proudly [They/Them]








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