Joined: 16 Feb 2004
|Posted: Mon Mar 29, 2004 4:49 pm Post subject: The Coming
|Date: 8/8/01 3:41 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Tank Bridesfield
The Complex, Earth, August 7th, 2075 a.d., 8:43 am:
The 'Plex always had that stench about it. The smell of a rotting carcass, it wafted through the air and into the nostrils of Tank Bridesfield, nostrils that tried to expel the rank odor. The stench was from the people of the 'Plex, the people of all the Domes around what was left of Earth. The people were already dying, physically and mentally...with Death comes it's odor.
Tank was a rare exception, at least in the eyes of the few people he came into contact with. He still had the vibrance of life, but it was steadily waning. He had the ferocity of the few who roamed across the planet under the nuked sky after the nuclear weapons of the superpowers destroyed everything. However, those people were dead and the dreams of regaining a green planet died with them. Radiation, it killed them...the few remainders created the
Domes and cowered into them, hiding from the living death that their own atmosphere had become, hiding from their own arrogance and mistakes. But then, there was Tank...born into this world, into the largest Dome, The Complex, and he held the vibrance. Maybe that's why he was chosen, maybe his course was already destined...or was it Fate?
Murky blue eyes quickly darted back and forth, looking over the dredge of humanity going back and forth in their daily menial tasks. Eyes that were polluted from living under the radiation, radiation flowing through the veins of their owner. Or did they lose their color from the poison of being in a bleak world?
Tank hated watching people shuffle back and forth like automated machines, he hated it because he did the same, but he also felt drawn to doing it everyday. Sighing loudly, he started into a slow jog across the street, black reinforced work boots splashing into the black puddles on the crumbling streets. He ran until he reached the glass and steel structure, pulling a door open viciously and running inside. He ran to avoid watching the people longer
than he had to. Ha. It's not like his day was going to get any better...
"Hey Tank. You're late. Again. Gerard is looking for you."
Arnold, the security man for that night smiled warmly to the 19-year old. Tank had a habit of being late, but everyone liked him, because he had that vibrance. Arnold liked him especially, because he had wanted to be like that his whole life. He had worked security for the Corporation for 23 years, since he was 21. However, once Tank took up the job a few months ago, he really didn't have to much to do. He lost out to the younger man, but he didn't
really mind. Tank had proven he could handle himself as a security man, and Arnold felt comfortable relinquishing the majority of his duties to the adept young man. At 44, he felt he wouldn't be of too much use against the mobs or the Mutants for much longer.
"Yeah, thanks Arn. You can go on home for the night. See you in a couple of days. Say hello to the fam for me. Keep them safe."
Tank exchanged his pleasantries with the older man while retying his straight, black hair into another ponytail. Tank admired Arnold almost as much as Arnold admired him. Maybe it was just because he reminded him so much of some of his trainers. Although Arnold didn't tutor Tank in the ways of any of his fighting skills, Tank did still consider him a teacher. After all, he got him this job. If it wasn't for him...he would probably be one of those
freelance thugs out on the streets. Tank crossed the shimmering tiled floor to the sterile silver elevators, and heard the low drone of the one nearest him coming down. Arnold had also inadvertantly given him the second part of his job, by introducing Tank to Gerard, the head of the Corporation. Stepping into the softly lighted elevator, Tank turned to face the doors as they whistled shut.
A clear female automated voice came over the speakers in the elevator. "Please state your destination."
"Suite Office. Top Floor." Tank responded without much enthusiasm.
"This destination is restricted. Please recite the code and your name."
"PH7156G9" Tank waited a moment for the code to register before he continued. "Tank Bridesfield".
"Thank you, Mr. Bridesfield. The time is currently 8:56. a.m."
Crap. He was almost an hour late for his shift. Gerard was going to be pissed. But then again, Gerard was always pissed. The elevator rushed up the building before coming to a slow stop. Tank closed his eyes and prepared for the reprimanding he was going to get as soon as he stepped out of the elevator.
"You're late. Just like always. I don't know why I don't fire you. Actually, I do know. You keep those thugs and Mutants out of here, and we need a test pilot."
Gerard was 6 years Tank's elder. 25 years and the head of one of the biggest Corportations in the Complex. How lucky. His steely gray eyes were leveled on Tank as he stepped from the elevators, a newly pressed black suit fitted over his frame. Tank always wondered about that, even though the world was as good as destroyed, Gerard always insisted on maintaining a cutting edge self image.
"So you wanted to see me? I hope it wasn't about being late because I could have been yelled at later..."
"Shut up." Gerard cut Tank off short and directed him toward one of the black leather chairs surrounding the sterile silver desk that Gerard sat behind 10-12 hours a day. Directly behind it was a clear glass window. Tank's gaze always avoided that window, he knew what was out there, the visages of the "people" outside he ran from everyday.
Gerard looked at him and immediately Tank knew what the summoning was about.
"We've devised a new Capsule. We need you to test it out."
((Hey everyone, this is my SL to introduce Tank to the RPing world of RhyDin. I'm a fairly new RPer when it comes to RhyDin and everything, but I like it here and I thought you might like learning a little more about Tank and exactly why he is here. I'll see you all around, I hope and have fun reading up on my char.))
Date: 8/9/01 9:31 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Tank Bridesfield
Tank sat bewildered, his mind was swimming with the mathamatical equations that Gerard had laid out to him to illustrate why this new Capsule would work. But what about the risks? The repercutions? Ha. Who was he fooling? He had never cared about those before, why now?
"Wait..." He finally managed to choke out after a few moments of staring at Gerard and making certain he wasn't jostling around with him.
"You mean to tell me that you want me to go back in time, and..."
Gerard cut him off again with a wave of his hand. A finger crashed downward onto the paper that he had worked the math out on, the gold ring on it sparkling in the dim artificial lights of the penthouse offices.
"We aren't asking you to do anything, Tank. Not yet at least. We just want to see if the Time Capsule works and if we can get some reconnaisance on the past, then we'll decide on another course of action."
"A course of action that involves me, no doubt?" Tank questioned his boss bitterly, slumping back into the black leather chair and kicking the reinforced work boots up onto the sterile steel desk.
"Of course. You're the best we have, Tank. Maybe the best in the whole 'Plex. Your training record is awesome...Martial Arts, Great Control of your Ki Energy, and I know for a fact that that sword you wear strapped to your back isn't just for show."
"Hmph. Don't flatter me. What will happen if this thing malfunctions?" Tank whirled around in the seat, his boots sliding off the table and onto the floor. Murky blue eyes pinpointed onto Gerard.
"You could be trapped wherever you land, or you could be stuck in between times. Depending on when and if it breaks. We wouldn't send you if we didn't think we could get you back.."
Tank shook his head slowly, this was madness, absolute madness. Gerard had made a point earlier though, what did they all have left in this future? Nothing but radiation and hiding from the Mutants. Anarchy. A place he surely wouldn't miss if he did get stuck somewhere.
"Fine. Suit me up, Coach. I'm going in."
Gerard grinned as wide as Tank had ever seen him do.
*A few hours later*
Gerard clapped Tank on the back of the shoulder. Tank could have sworn he felt him pushing him toward the yellow, metallic Capsule. At least it was big enough.
"Prelims and Lessons are done, Tank. It's up to you. Have a good trip."
"Don't you want me to come back?" Not that Tank cared if his boss cared or not.
"Sure. Come back safely."
"Don't call me that."
"Sure thing, G." Tank repeated as he climed into the brown plush driver's "seat" at the top of the Capsule. Dropping into the seat his hands moved over the controls rather quickly. The faster he had this thing done, the faster he could come back, he figured. How did he let himself be talked into these things? The Capsule jolted suddenly and then started humming...Here we go, Tank thought bitterly.
Gerard watched his best man and one of his good friends in this world's face go impassive as the Capsule started up. This had to work, it just had to. His thoughts were echoed in the last sight that he had of the Capsule: It's prototype number and name.