Planning for the Future (Finished)

[Alexandria Lang]

Alex was never one to resign herself to whatever fate had decided to spit in her way, and this newest chapter of her life was no exception. Despite her abduction not a full week ago, and despite this pseudo-prison she'd found herself locked within, she would find a way to leave and return to the life that she'd been ripped away from. Anything short of that was simply not acceptable.

The problem with that was, of course, figuring out how to escape.

So, she'd come to the graveyard, a spot where she figured no prying eyes would be able to discern what the new chick was doing, no obnoxious simpleton could waltz up and distract her from her planning. Though she was certain there would likely be those who would be more than happy to aid her, she preferred to stay away from the mutant populace, communicating only when absolutely necessary. She'd rejected what help the various members of the community had offered her, instead remaining in solitude, fashioning herself a flimsy brace for the wrist she'd broken upon her capture and a makeshift cane from what she could find on her own. Admittedly, it wasn't something she would recommend, nor was it the greatest idea to shun those who attempted to help, but it was certainly better than dealing with those... freaks.

Finding a relatively clean spot near a marker, she slid down to the ground, wresting from her shirt a small, beaten sheaf of blank paper that she'd been able to salvage. That, coupled with a pen she'd been lent by one of those mutants upon first arriving and had never returned, would be suitable for what she was planning.

Sticking her tongue between her lips, Alex balanced the papers on her good knee and began the process of sketching her best estimate of the compound.

[Lucian Verdus]

Upon a ghoulish errand that was likely to become a regular one, the monk-like figure of Lucian could be seen near the entrance to the graveyard, making his way towards the grave he had chosen for the next time he had needed to go on such an errand as this. The first servitor had been a success, but he needed more; the old model would have to be improved upon with successive ones, and a single servitor would be no use to him if he was to have any advantage over his budding foes. The two males he had thus far encountered and conflicted with presented a threat unto themselves, and it would only get worse if they were able to convince others. But, while they were out convincing the living, he would recruit the far more agreeable dead.

Lucian was oblivious to the nearby newcomer as he hunched over the grave, the mound of dirt marked with a single, straight incision down the middle that he had made with one of his claws. He plunged the larger of his two arms down into the grave, just as he had the first time, and the claws surfaced with a cadaver in tow. A female this time, and slightly more decayed than the first cadaver he had dug up, showing some signs of visible rot. This did not mean good things for the brain. If he could salvage none of it, he would have to work entirely off of a processor-based mind. It would be complicated, but necessary.

He turned the body over, examining it closely. Physically, the rot would matter little once he replaced it all with metal, and the processor-mind would be a new experimentation, but, if successful, would mean that he had more free reign over what cadavers to choose from. A semi-preserved brain in the proper areas was, of course, preferred, but Lucian was not oblivious to his position. Beggars can’t be choosers, citing the old cliché. He stood, taking the body up with him as the fingers of his smaller hand began to move across it in a manner that would almost look lustful, were it not for the calculating and methodical feel of it all.

[Alexandria Lang]

It was roughly halfway through her sketch when her ears first picked up on the strange, mechanical whir that had pierced the air of the graveyard. Her pen halted mid-line, and quickly she moved to stash her papers within the blouse they'd emerged from. In the case that someone had entered the graveyard, it was no longer a place where she could devise her strategy in peace, and thusly, it was time for her to move.

Popping the pen behind her left ear, she scrambled for her cane, hoisting herself upright before inspecting the cemetery. At first glance, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary... until her eyes managed to fall on the form of a robed man, mechanical appendages thrust into the dirt as it exhumed whoever had been interred within.

She froze, the cry of surprise and horror that would have fled a normal person nothing more than a sharp gust of breath from her lips. As she observed, the mechanised person rotated the decaying body in examination, its various mechanical parts whirring as it did so.

After her initial shock, she managed to lull herself back into her state of calm. This must simply another one of those freaks... albeit, not one in the normal sense. She herself wouldn't have labeled someone of such an abnormality to be a mutant; rather, something more along the lines of a cyborg. However, considering that it was within this compound, someone had seen fit to call it such.

Grasping her cane, she slowly moved toward the mechanical man, her head cocked to one side as she observed its movements as it worked with the corpse. She couldn't see much, thanks to the angle she was at and the thing's robe, but that which she could was... fascinating, to say the very least.

[Lucian Verdus]

The body would do fine. All that he needed to do now was to return to his cell, and he hoped that, this time, it would not be in a frantic chase by some cocky psychopath. Combat was not his goal, nor was it a recommended means to an end. If he could forward his work without spilling a drop of blood, it would be the most viable option. However, he had been forming schematics for combat-oriented servitors to spill the blood in his stead. Those would be for a later model, though, as he was now striving to improve on the base servitor model, not innovate on it.

As Lucian turned to leave, he caught sight of the girl who had apparently approached him while he was busy grave-digging. She was not a wisecracking, obtrusive male, this much was clear, and looked physically frail upon initial analysis. She was promptly classified under non-threat. “Greetings.” The voice, toneless and eternally unchanging, emanated as it always did from the slits in Lucian’s mouth plate, “You are the first non-hostile I have seen here. This is fortuitous. If it is within my clearance, I would like to request information as to your presence here.”

He stood, waiting for a response, as the cylinder on his back began to softly whirr. He was still sizing up the girl, to some extent. The way she stood with the cane indicated that it was not simply an accessory, and it was difficult to tell the extent of her injury from a purely visual standpoint. What he did know, however, was that she would benefit from the gift of the machine.

[Alexandria Lang]

Upon the mechanical man's greeting, Alex found herself taking an immediate step back, nearly falling over as her cane hit a rock at an odd angle. Quickly, she moved to stabilise herself with the aid of her healthy leg and cane, though her stance was, at best, awkward as she analysed his words.

After a moment's hesitation, she slowly hobbled over to one of the grave markers, her eyes never leaving the creature. She didn't consider it wise to look away from a machine grasping a woman's rotting corpse in its clutches, especially when, as of the moment, she was unaware of exactly what its intentions were.

Reaching the stone, she moved to lean against it, letting her cane do much the same a few inches away. Alex wasn't entirely certain if he would be able to understand her, but she may as well make the attempt, considering that writing out every scrap of conversation was horribly inconvenient, not to mention a waste of what paper she possessed.

"My name is Alexandria Lang," she began, her fingers weaving through the cold air. "As you may be able to tell, I am unable to converse normally. My business here is simply to seek solitude, away from the general populace of this facility." After another moment's hesitation, she ventured, "May I ask, what is it that you intend to do with that body?"

[Lucian Verdus]

It took Lucian a moment to recognize the girl’s gesturing as sign language, and as he turned the remainder of his body to face her he began to translate, having to dig up from some older, unused files a guide to this. In the same directory were guides to German French, and Italian though it was not within Lucian’s memory files as to why. Certain files within memory, deemed ‘useless’ by a ratings scale, were deleted to make room for further, more important archived information. With the guide integrated properly, he managed to catch the remainder of what she said from ‘Alexandria Lang’ on.

It was not difficult to tell she was frightened of him, and, based off of this, he was devoid of all motion as he replied to her. It was a subtly inhuman thing, being able to stand without the faintest motion. “That would be correct. I am able to see this. My intention was not to disturb your solitude, and I would wish to extend an apology for such an unintended action. The general populace of the facility are not individuals you would like to spend much time with, save for rare exceptions. There is little to them that is useful. One is even violent with little cause. I have reason to believe there are more like him.” The attempt to demonize and discredit the discontent around him was enacted for various reasons. It was a potentially useful endeavor to have at least one being that did not abhor him.

“I am going to bring this female back to life, by imparting my skills and my gift upon her. There are no living individuals, so far, that wish to receive such a gift, despite what it implies. Eternal life, perfection of the mind and…” he paused, glancing over her again, “purgation of all physical defects. I digress.” He turned away, towards the general direction of his cellblock, “If that is all, it is within my best interests to begin my work. You are welcome to accompany me and watch, but the process is not one that living beings would find attractive. It is worth it in the end.”

[Alexandria Lang]

Alex let out a small breath of relief as it became clear that the machine could understand her signing. She couldn't even begin to imagine how odd it would have looked for a crippled mute to hand off scraps of paper to a mechanical monstrosity that happened to be holding a rotting body in the air. This wasn't to touch on the fact that she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of approaching it.

But as it finished "speaking," Alex wasn't entirely convinced that her original impression was completely correct. While it did hold a humanoid form, from what she could see, there was little to nothing human about it, and as such, she could make several assumptions. Firstly, it could be a construct being controlled remotely from some fellow in the block, though with the mention of its 'gift,' a human master seemed unlikely. Secondly, there was the possibility of it being a self-controlled machine that had been programmed for this task. Thirdly... it could be a person who had visited such a 'gift' upon himself.

But considering that it was, in fact, a machine, she could conclude that its thought processes would be limited, at best. She'd never dealt with a self-aware piece of hardware before, but her assumptions of how they would work would have to serve until she could acquire a better grasp of its logistics. Its comment on no living individuals being interested in receiving such a gift had also given away that either it would not do such a thing to an unwilling person, or everyone it had attempted it on was able to escape. Considering that it had not simply snatched her up and run off to its lair to begin the process, an easy enough feat she would imagine, the former could be assumed.

"You are welcome to accompany me and watch, but the process is not one that living beings would find attractive. It is worth it in the end.”

Alex did not consider herself squeamish; after all, she'd been studying to become a surgeon, to cut open the bodies of other human beings, to tamper with the processes within them, and stitch them up like simple garments. If this... machine was capable of bringing life back to the corpse, it wasn't a sight that she was going to shy away from. Mutants, she would stay away from. But this walking computer certainly didn't count as one, in her book, and it would be worthwhile to possibly make an ally out of it.

Grasping her cane once more, she hobbled toward the machine. As it had turned away from her, she didn't bother attempting to communicate further; she would simply follow, and observe.

[Lucian Verdus]

Before he began, he took a brief glance behind him, noting that the girl had drawn closer, and interpreted it as an intent to follow. Thus, he began down the pathway towards his cellblock without another word. Of relatively equal distance, it took Lucian a second or two to evaluate which of the two routes he had taken back to his cellblock was preferable over the other. He decided upon the secluded route through the trees he had taken during his first grave robbing escapade, due to its seclusion and opportunities for swift evasion, if necessary. It was interesting to be able to closer analyze the lightly-wooded path he had charged through so swiftly, before.

Walking silently along, Lucian began to notice breaks in the route that were not truly paths; subtle detours that he could have taken to elude his pursuer better, and considered it, perhaps, the reason that his adversary of that night had been able to catch up with him and offer his minor inconvenience of tearing off the cadaver’s head and, for whatever incalculable reason, politely gave it back to him. Lucian looked down at the limp, grayish body in his claws, the ‘wrist’ gyrating slightly to view the other side, which was in somewhat better condition than the front as far as rot went.

Again, Lucian turned to look at Alexandria, thus far the only being not to patronize or antagonize him. He considered the possibility of the gift being given, logically generating and categorizing as many possibilities as his mechanical and barely-fleshed mind could conjure. He concluded the most preferable outcome to be that others would consider the gift of purity if a living subject, one made closer to his own image than that of the servitors, could testify to its power. It was a preferable scenario, too, that they considered that he had, in a single day, raised the dead, cured the living of death, muteness, and lameness, and was more than willing to do the same to all.

It was decided; he would work towards this outcome. All the while, another important goal still remained, and was not reduced in priority; he needed more servitors. For that, he needed more corpses. For that to go more efficiently, he needed less interlopers. Here, the two goals intertwined. If he related to the public, they would understand his need for bodies to create what he considered the ‘lowest’ caste of mechanized beings in a caste system he had been working on as soon as blueprints for servitor variants had come to fruition in his last internal process session. It was not extremely complex, but would require many more bodies, living and dead, to ever impose.

[Alexandria Lang]

It was a strange sight, to say the least; a disabled woman hobbling several yards behind a robed robot as they traveled down the wooded path toward the building ahead wasn't exactly what even a mutant freak would consider normal. To be fair, Alex assured herself, it was probably not the absolute oddest sight ever conjured within these walls.

As they approached the block, she had the time to consider the possible outcomes of this foray into the unknown. She knew already, without question, that she would not be accepting any 'gift' if it were offered. Though her disabilities were terribly inconvenient, not to mention painful, she had learned to accept them, learned to view them as simply extensions of what made her Alexandria Lang. Logical? Goodness no. Perhaps, if given time, she could come to terms with being fixed in such a manner, but for the moment, she hadn't the slightest inclination to leave what she was behind.

And then there was the other possibility; of gaining an ally, albeit an exceptionally strange one. Regardless, if she was to escape this thrice-damned compound, she doubted she could do it alone. If her various assumptions about the machine before her were even close to correct, she determined that it wouldn't be satisfied with the population, living and dead, of the compound. On top of that, if she were to forge alliances, it would not be with one of those mutants.

Though they had labeled her as such, and though she would admit to having an extraordinary ability, she did not see herself as a mutant. Rather, she believed she was merely sick, an ill person who needed to be studied, treated and cured, not locked away for the rest of her life. In a sense, she could see the others as being sick, but those she had encountered didn't seem the slightest bit phased by their mutations.

Essentially, they were insane.

Essentially, she was a sick person locked in a house of lunatics, and she would do what she had to in order to escape. With that in mind, she would follow this robot, she would witness his "gift," and she would see exactly what the future was planning for her.

[Lucian Verdus]

(( This is gonna continue in the cellblock bit, so I guess this one's done. ))