(( A/N: Hi everyone! I'm finally back from a long time of writer's block. Unfortunately, I lost the muses to both of my previous stories, and I'm not sure if/when they'll be updated. For now, have this new story I've been tossing around for a few years now! I hope you guys like it! ))
It was morning, that much Yule knew. The sun crept into the spacious studio apartment, the sweet autumn breeze gently caressing the chiffon curtains that framed the windows of the abode. A faint smell of jasmine incense smoke could be detected from the previous night's sleeping routine, as well as the strong and perky aroma of freshly brewed coffee. A very exhausted Yule pulled herself upwards, a sudden gust of wind violently blowing her ivory mane into a complete disaster before her day had even begun. The frustrated girl blew on her bangs, and ran her fingers through her hair as she slowly arose from her bed. Blankets flopped onto the ground as Yule shuffled a few feet into the kitchen to ready a cup of coffee.
An agitated sigh escaped Yule's lips as she finally realized she had left the window open last night. The apartment was chilly, an irritating rather than refreshing sensation to someone as grumpy as morning Yule. She downed the black cup of liquid energy in just a few gulps, and made her way into the bathroom. The young woman gazed into the mirror blankly, her honey gaze taking in her appearance. Yule's skin was flushed from the cold air, and her hair was something else. The thin silver lines that framed her skin were barely noticeable, but for someone who had lived with them, they were impossible to overlook. A slight whirring noise started up as air vented out of Yule's ribs, her body cycling out the cool air to warm itself up. As her fingers clutched a hairbrush, Yule couldn't help but let out a small, dejected sigh before combating her bird's nest.
"Another day, another day." Yule murmured to herself as she exited her bathroom. It had been years since she went into hiding, yet, every day still greeted her with anxiety and tiredness. Her mind knew that she was safe, for nobody really knew where she was, but that didn't matter. Mental health didn't work like that. At least, Yule didn't think it did. She didn't know much about anxiety, other than she was stricken with it. The thoughts eventually subsided as Yule pulled out her laptop to write.
Yule was a writer of sorts. She found it to be therapeutic in her world of selective isolation. The repetitive tapping soothed her weary soul as the words describing who and what she was relieved the burden of it all. The events she had seen, the life she had lived, it was all documented in disturbing detail. She never bothered to go back and read it, for reliving what she had seen seemed... counterproductive, to say at the least. The whole point of her writing was to let the thoughts escape, not to revisit them and keep adding detail after traumatic detail that she could have possibly left out.
"Chapter... Uh... Two hundred?" Yule questioned aloud, trying to remember where exactly she had left off. "Mm... Oh! The experiments, continued."
'From the moment I was conceived, my life had already been planned out for me. I was supposed to come out with a purpose, with every detail of my life laid out without any consideration that it might all come crashing down.
The Cybertronians were finally weaseled down into meager populations, scattered and torn apart by mankind themselves. Metal from these extraterrestrial beings was salvaged, and given a name. Transformium. With decades of studying, it was discovered that Transformium could be programmed and used to do whatever the user wished, to an extent. A team of sick, but brilliant researchers decided to try human experimentation, for it had recently been legalized as long it was done on the unborn. The law caused a huge riot, but that's another story for another chapter.
My mother's name was Iris, she was the lover of a renowned scientist named Porter Long. The two were coworkers who had wound up with each other, and decided that the first thing they wanted to do was have a child. Not only did they want a child, my parents wanted to experiment on that child with controversial methods involving Transformium. They wanted to see if they could create a being that was both biological, and machine. That's where I come in. In the womb, I was subjected to many Transformium experiments. My human DNA was spliced with the CNA of the Cybertronians, which in theory, probably should have killed me. Due to the constant Transformium injections and replacements, I guess it overrode many things that should have previously been impossible.
When I was finally brought into this sick world, I immediately was whisked off to continue the testing. At this point, my existence became illegal, but they didn't care. They wanted more, more, more. More results, more tests, more studies. My organs and flesh were slowly stripped and replaced over time with synthetics that were also spliced with CNA and Transformium. My blood vessels removed to put in... whatever, and my blood was replaced with a mixture of energon and human red blood cells that had mutated to withstand the toxicity of the energon. My body became less and less human as time went on, but I looked and acted human. Sort of.
I was extremely intelligent growing up. My cybernetically enhanced brain could process things much faster than the average human. I could learn quicker, and to an extent, have things DOWNLOADED into me. Programmed. To them, I was another machine to be taught to serve. My life was painful. Electrolysis therapy to see how it affected my weird brain, my synthetic everythings being ripped out or off and replaced with better things. Eventually, they figured out how to program my Transformium to learn, change, and enhance as I grew.
My mother, may the goddesses bless her, finally came to her senses and realized that what was happening to me was wrong. The agony of my existence finally struck a chord within her that activated her inner mama bear. When I was fifteen, we escaped together to live in isolation. She rescued me. My mother was killed by the scientist organization when out on a quick trip to get us food and supplies. I never saw or heard what happened, but something in me knew that she wouldn't be returning home from her journey. End of Chapter two-hundred."
Yule wiped tears that had gathered in her eyes, and closed her laptop quietly. She stuffed it inside of a messenger bag, and began packing it with things she'd need throughout the day. The charger, her phone, her phone charger, snacks, water, and so on. For the first time in almost a year, Yule was venturing outside of her house to refresh her mind on what the outer world was up to.
In the parking lot, however, a black Lamborghini slowly rolled by the building the young woman resided in.