Young Writers Society

Awesome guys!!!

We'll start after I post my profile.

Name: Jim *cannot be bothered with surname*
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Class: ...I don't even know what I meant by this. Maybe it was supposed to read job?!
Rebel/Empire Rebel
Appearance:

Personality: Hotheaded and passionate. He's quite boisterous and determined, and is always right, or at least that's how he sees things, which obviously leads to many arguments. Likes the security of a hierarchy. Somewhat vengeful.

Strengths/weaknesses: Whilst fairly clever, he's not a brilliant tactician and tends towards reckeless actions that can put him in danger. However he's fairly strong, for a rebel, and can think on his feet very well. Doesn't like fixed plans as he generally forgets bits and ends up running headfirst into danger.

History: Recieved a symbiote at 18, as expected of him. However he hated the experience as they didn't get along well, and after a year he left for the rebels that he had heard of. His symbiote was removed.

Now he is eager to bring down the system, believing the Shay'la to be an evil race that should be destroyed. On a general note, he doesn't trust anyone with a symbiote as he believes them to be under it's will at all times.

Other: Up for love.

Okay, i think we're ready to start. Please remember to direct any queries or plot suggestions to the DT.

Anybody can start with the first post!

Dr. Mitchell Pryce | Fusion Lab A9 | 10:00am

Careful on the central lobe, Mitch...

I nodded, slipping the scalpel away from a bundle of nerves in the patient's head, making a quick incision on the brain stem. I could almost see the nerves reacting wildly to the foreign blade.

"Begin Stage 17," I said, keeping an unwavering hand on the blade. Around me, the room temperature dropped to exactly 43 degrees, Fahrenheit. One of the surrounding subordinates handed me a steel tube (sturdy, yet malleable!) and I touched the very tip of the steel wiring to the brain stem, listening for the familiar shhhhup! that came with the draining of brain fluid. I nodded to one of the practitioners, watching him reply by bringing a large, 2-foot jar with the embodied form of a Shay'la, named Geode, who would be the patient's new partner for life.

"Begin stage 18."

The subordinate exchanged the blade to his hand, and he brushed against me when he took the steel tubing. Reaching down into the jar, I wrapped a firm hand around the Symbiont, getting a flux of new emotions and thoughts at sheer contact. It never got old, that telepathic link the Shay'la gave just with general contact.

"Geode," I said, "Please prepare your host for fusion."

The slimy, alien creature extended a tentacle into the incision point and released a blue fluid into the opening, rendering his nerves and anxious muscles butter.

"Begin stage 19."

Slowly, I slid Geode over the entrance to his new home where he would become a roaming mind, fixated to a central point in this boy's mind. "Careful, now, pal." The symbiont relaxed in my grasp and began taking on characteristics of his host immediately. His insides began to glow like that of a jellyfish and he let out an eerie, space-noise. I smiled and watched as he vanished into the host's body.

"Begin stage 20."

"Initiating," one of the practitioners came to the host's side, wiping away stray fluid from the insertion point.

"Healing status?"

"99% in 5.917 seconds."

"Marvelous."

The room temperature returned to normal and the lights rose to their brilliant fluorescent shimmer. I removed my gloves and stuck my hands under a steamy cascade of water, paying little attention to the pats on the back that came after a completed fusion.

The room slowly emptied and I turned off the faucet, returning to the lab table where the action had taken place. Peering down at the patient's neck, I grinned at the lack of evidence of insertion, negate a small cross-hair shaped scar on his neck. Which was not removable.

Fifteen minutes passed until the anesthetic wore off and the patient-- eighteen year-old Michael Rivers stirred under the lab sheets. I looked up from the file and paged a nurse to bring his clothes in.

"How do you feel?" I asked, looking up at him as he stretched out his arms, drowsy and likely hungry, like most boys his age after surgery, or bears.

Bears were always hungry.

He looked around the lab, getting his bearings. His eyes turned down to where I sat a few feet away from him and he nodded, hopping down off the table with disregard to his nudity.

"This mind of mine says that you were very kind to him during the procedure, and he'd like to thank you." He held out a hand for a handshake, but I was dubious. His voice sounded hollow and spacious.

I stood, shaking his hand and nudging back on his shoulder until his backside was against the lab table again. "Michael, I think you should lay down a bit longer... The merging within your minds isn't complete."

"Completion... Is a good thing."

He relaxed his muscles instantly, falling down instead of onto the lab table. I quickly grabbed him under the arms before he could hit the floor, and a team of nurses came in instantly. Heavy behemoth, Delta whispered to me. I grinned and heaved with the others to get him back on the table.

"This one will need time for the merging to complete. Conduct a stage 21 treatment in my absence, please. And don't give him any commands."

So bossy. I grinned again and dusted off my arms, leaving the lab for the purging room.


Do you think he'll be okay?

Of course. You treated him, after all.

But he obeyed my vague command so readily.

Most simpletons do, Mitch.

So nothing went wrong?

Nothing went wrong.

Asthon Mills:

I watched with interest from the waiting room as they gave the newbie a symbiote. I didn't like the idea and Tau was starting to feel the same.

It is...interesting, he said. I chuckled.

Yeah, I replied. But I still don't like the idea. Did they even ask the boy?

Tau sighed and I sighed with him. Yeah, we were both bored.

Shall I take over? he asked. He didn't need a reply to tell him that I agreed.

Tommy Jackson

"I can't believe people actually do this." I said in amazement, staring at a boy going into the place where he would be given a symbiote.

"I know what you mean. It's completely irrational." Jim said in reply.

We both shook our heads.

"So this is what our world has come to." I said.

Jim sighed.

Sam came up behind us.

"We can't stop them from doing it. It's their choice." he said. "If we did say something about it, they would force us to get one too."

"I guess there's no sense in moping around about it." I said. "What do you guys want to do?"

Rachel Livingstone:

Rachel sighed softly as she melded the two wires together, rolling her chair back as the large robot came to life, sitting up on the table. Rachel smiled brightly, and pushed her glasses up to the top of her head, slinging her arms around the huge mass of metal. "Yay, you're finally done!" She yelled, running her slim fingers down the new bulletproof plates of the old war robot. The old plates of the robot's actual creator had become so flimsy, Rachel was forced to take it upon herself to fix it. "Come on, stand up. I'll take you out and make sure everything's in working order." The robot beeped in reply, and stood up on the table, his head slamming into the light fixture above. Unphased, he stepped off the table, causing Rachel to laugh softly lead him out of the lab.

Which one are we heading to Rache? Rasia questioned in Rachel's mind. Rachel simply shrugged.

Which one should we go to?

I'd say the actual target range. I doubt there is anyone out there, due to today being a military holiday.

The military never have a break though. Especially not with rebels running around like banshees.

True, very true.
Rachel stepped into the transport dome, built by one of the senior scientists, and the robot followed in step, Rachel pressing a series of buttons before they dissapated away.

In just moments they were standing in an empty field, targets painted in red and white placed here and there, the hospital in the distance just for precaution. Rachel grabbed one of the two guns off her belt, handing one to the robot. "Okay, Torg." She finally had decided on a name for the robot. "Show me what you still remember." She smiled, taking a step back as the robot immediately started firing, the gunshots able to be heard for miles.

~Jim~

I narrowed my eyes, anger growing inside me at the injustice. Our entire population, brainwashed into believing the aliens were good, and now this.

There had probably been some kind of well-thought out, flawless plan that explained why we were here, but all memories of that left my mind as I stood up with a determined expression on my face. "Come on," I said definately.

Tommy gave me a confused look. "What?"

"We're going in." A decisive tone had entered my voice. "Let's see if we can get some new recruits from those who can still think for themselves." With that, I started towards the fusion lab, the other two rebels following with uncertain expressions.

Dr. Mitchell Pryce | Purging Room (Showers) | 10:47am

"So word on the telepathic street is that the rebellion's planning something soon." Gary, who was an intern there before I was, called over the roar of the falling water.

"When isn't the rebellion planning something?" He liked sarcasm. He'd said it himself. But coming from me, it sounded... too fake. I opened my eyes, looking up at the ceiling as the cascade continued to pour down on the entire room.

You like water too much. Delta seemed cynical today.

I watched as the water pounded down on the two bodies in the room-- myself and Intern Gary Drake, who worked in Fusion Lab B3. He never understood why he didn't get the promotion I did.

Isn't it obvious?

Internally, I agreed with Delta and continued to watch the ceiling release water. I wonder what the bill is for this place, running one of these rooms on every floor...

Too much. Seven floors. One waterfall room per floor, satisfying your obsessive cleanliness 24-7... It can't be cheap.

Gary stood up and stretched up his arms to the ceiling. Over his left shoulder started a dark tanned scar that ran down his chest and abs and down between his legs. The rest wasn't visible at the time, but I had seen it before. It ran between his legs and up his back, stopping at his spine.

The rebels tried to steal his symbiont, didn't they...

Yeah, Delta... The story's gruesome, and he's lucky that the facility allowed him to continue working as an intern... They had their suspicions.

That he may be infected by a rebel symbiote?

Yes.

And that explanation was good enough for Delta. He never asked for much; just knowledge. I looked up again and Gary was gone without saying goodbye or anything. Almost like he could hear us.

You're too worried. He probably just didn't like seeing your naked butt.

I couldn't argue with his logic.

__ __ __ __
Waiting Room A9

"Laura McCall, you're next."

I entered the room as the receptionist finished calling out names. Nervously, three older teenagers stood, one black, one white, one Asian. All three were girls, and they clasped hands before they walked into the cleaning center. They'd be stripped and given the same shower treatment doctors were before and after each procedure, given a special healing gel to place on their neck after the operation, and briefed separately on stages 1-17, excluding stage 13. The others were specialized for this facility, and couldn't be compromised.

I took my eyes off of them and looked further down into the waiting room, to a girl who sat in front of the glass barrier that showed into one of the Chambers. A9. She was watching my chamber.

A sudden blush of pride came over me, but then Delta leveled my head for me. I smiled and pulled on my coat, readying for the brunt of the coming rain.

It seemed...suspicious...how she just sat there, staring ahead. Almost vacantly. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Cell Disk (which had replaced cell phones a long while back). 11:17am. My shift was over at 11, and I didn't have any other plans.

"Does it interest you?" I asked, sitting next to the girl. Her vacant green stare continued to fly ahead into the glass barricade. Inside, the lab was shutting down until 11 tonight when I was scheduled to return.

"It all seems odd," she murmured, still vacant.

"It is odd!" I flashed my teeth at her and she kept staring ahead. "Did you ever receive a symbiote?"

She nodded.

"Oh? Who was your Fusician?"

"Carter. He had cold hands."

Oh, this one's a keeper. I hushed Delta and forced myself to continue smiling.

"But it benefited you, right? I mean..." It wasn't an argument, per se... I was just eager about what I loved and what I knew. And Delta supported me. "That's why we do it, really... Because it has so many benefits!" My eagerness had gotten the best of me, and I cursed under my breath as her green eyes turned to me. Her lips hung slightly apart, like she may be an old computer recharging. "Right, then... I..."

You should be going.

"I should be going."

"Yeah," she murmured, not even moving her lips. "You should..."

Rachel Livingstone:

"Okay guys, I'll be going now! Make sure my father gets the whole report on Torg when he picks him up!" Rachel called as she lifted a small, slightly rusted robot off her desk, and set him on her shoulder, his soft chirping drawing attention as she walked out of the lab. She sighed as she walked down the road, not really feeling like driving. She'd been cooped up in a lab for three days, so the somewhat fresh air would do her some good.

After walking a couple miles, Rachel began to get bored. The scenery never changed. It had been like this for her whole life, and everything had slowly started to blur together. Sure, the rebels offered entertainment every now and then, but fighting over the whole Shay'la issue was beginning to get old, much like everything on the planet. She kicked a rock, her blue eyes following it until it veered to far to the right, Rachel not able to see it unless she turned her head. She sighed again, shaking her head as she walked, hands in her pockets.

...

Sorry Lumierre, wasn't paying attention... I was just trying to get my character with the others. Epic fail, huh?

Thanks for telling me though! I'll fix it right away.

It's all good. I just like continuity.
Like, obsessively.

General Elisabetta Fabian - Fusion Center, 11.12 AM

"Elisabetta, are you all right?"

Elisabetta looked up and met her stepfather's dark blue eyes. All around her people were rushing out of the fusion center, tailing Dr. Mitchell Pryce as he left the building. Elisabetta frowned.

I wonder what he'll say if he knew the rebels are scouting for recruits during his operation. We should tell him. It'll take him down a notch.

Elisabetta smiled faintly. "I'm fine, Dad."

"Are you sure? We came to watch the operation but you've kept your eyes on the other people in the viewing room. And when you didn't look at the others you were staring at your map. Are you getting enough sleep?" Her stepfather frowned and touched her face. She flinched away.

She knew there were dark circles under her eyes. No, she wasn't getting enough sleep. Not by a long shot. Those rebels kept running around trying to bomb fusion centers. In fact, she was sure the only reason they didn't mess with this facility was because of that stupid Dr. Pryce.

Now now, Becka. Let's not be bitter. You know they haven't succeeded yet. Our team has managed to defuse those bombs every single time.

True. "I'm fine Dad. We're just worried about how obsessed with recruiting new members the rebels have been lately. Marshal Gregory wants us to keep a close watch on the hotbeds of doubt."

"And the operations of Dr. Mitchell Pryce are rumored to be the best scouting time for the rebels...I see." He straightened his back, feeling uneasy around Elisabetta's posture. "Well, don't work yourself too hard. Shall we go home and watch a movie?"

What do you think, Ares? Home sounds nice, and Dad looks hopeful. It's been a long time since we'd watched a movie together.

A movie will wait. Dr. Pryce won't be around forever. We have to talk to him now, Becka. You can't afford to slack off now of all times.

Elisabetta scanned the crowd and saw Dr. Pryce being chased by raging reporters. Their screams reached 93 decibels, loud enough to deafen people. Elisabetta wanted to roar for silence. Where was the discipline?

"I'll stay, Dad. I want to talk to Dr. Pryce about the scouting and his operations. And maybe I can find some of those scouts the rebellion sends."

Donovan chuckled a bit and shrugged. "I expected as much. Ares? Take care of my daughter. Try not to let her die of exhaustion." He stepped into the black transport's open door. Elisabetta returned the salute of her father's bodyguard before turning around sharply.

Her eyes narrowed in on Mr. Pryce entertaining the most beautiful reporters.

What a prick.

Elisabetta approached the crowd and the reporters at the back of the bunch saw her. Immediately they shifted their attention to her. Elisabetta almost took a step away from Dr. Pryce.

"General Fabian, how is the campaign against the rebels going?"

"General Fabian, how does it feel to be the youngest general to ever grace the army? And how does it feel being the only female general? Is it true that you gain favors because of your gender?"

"What do you have to say about the failed operation of General Jackson?"

Elisabetta held up a hand, silencing all the reporters around her. She glanced at all their hopeful faces, each one thinking she was about to answer their question.

Ah this trick. I love it.

And I thank you for suggesting it last year.

They weren't getting answers today. Instead of saying anything she motioned for the crowd to move aside and most of them did. The ones that didn't she stared down. Once a clear path had opened, she walked towards Dr. Pryce, who was still surrounded by a handful of reporters. He spotted her immediately and smiled at her. A few reporters in front of him snarled at her but gave way anyway.

She stood in front of him, only just realizing he was actually younger than her. She wasn't used to that - most people in her own platoon were older, and most generals were twice her age.

When you think about it, Becka, you're both prodigies. There's no need to be afraid.

"Dr. Pryce, my name is -"

"General Elisabetta Fabian. Of course. Who hasn't heard of you?"

Where are the manners in today's world?

She frowned. "Of course. I have a private matter to discuss with you. Would you please...?" She motioned to a transport. Hopefully they could go back to her office and they could talk without any eavesdroppers.

Hopefully he would agree. If he wouldn't, she could always use her guns.

Tommy

"We're going in." Jim said. I looked at him questioningly. "Let's see if we can get some new recruits from those who can still think for themselves."

Sam and I followed uncertainly. I looked at him with an 'uh-oh' expression.

Sam chuckled when he saw my worried expression. I hit him jokingly in the arm.

We messed around the whole time on our way to the fusion lab. Jim didn't look back at us, but I think he knew. I guess I was just trying to mess around to hide the fact that I was scared half to death about doing what we were about to do.

Jim stopped abruptly at the entrance to the lab. Sam and I, not paying attention, bumped into him. He gave us a look that told us to stop messing around. We obeyed him reluctantly.

I looked at the door. I knew being a rebel was going to be dangerous, but I had already gotten myself into it, and I wasn't backing down. I was only a few seconds away from what could be the end of it, even though it hadn't been long.

We all seemed to take as much time possible to walk in the door. All three of us were worried. We didn't know what was going to happen, but I had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.