Um, hi, me again. No I haven't died, but it seems this fic has, so I'm going to attempt a 'revival', of sorts.
...I have no clue where these things come from, I really don't.
BUT! Some things before we start: This chapter is effing HUGE. Why? Because it's actually the compilation of a bunch of random odds and ends, all in an effort to tie up loose ends and attempt to make 'sense' of everything so far...if that's even possible. Being as I haven't updated this story in ages, and really feel I should do so (especially after seeing the trailer for DS3 and realizing this shit better get a move on)...yep, here goes. *crosses fingers*
"Alright, how's the session going?" Tiedemann asks as he siddles up alongside a small group of his staff, jotting notes on clipboards as they make their observations, as is the custom of so bland of characters as they.
"As good as they get around here," sighs one wearily. Tiedemann can only imagine.
Inside the viewing room, Patient 5 is curled up in a terrified ball, rocking himself back and forth and muttering something about...clowns.
"I didn't know you were afraid of clowns," Isabel raises an eyebrow as she watches her lover go through his current personal crisis.
"OF COURSE I'M AFRAID OF CLOWNS!" the scientist suddenly roars, not that she seems to notice. Or care.
"Hey, in his defense, clowns can be damn scary," one of the other viewing staff agrees, glancing over at Tiedemann.
"Especially the ones we keep in here," Tiedemann rolls his eyes before moving on.
Coming to the next session in progress, he notes that there was in fact a reason he'd stashed all those migraine pills in his pocket before he came down here; that and it's probably a good idea to just down them all right now. He's already come to terms with the fact the he's not lucky enough to OD...
"...Sir?" a researcher asks tentatively, rousing him from his thoughts. "You, kinda had this really far away look on your face there for a second. Is something wrong?"
"Yes, actually there is: can't a man daydream in this facility without suffering scrutiny from his underlings?" Tiedemann snaps.
"Uh-! ...No?"
"..." Turning instead to the rest of the small team, "So what've we got in here?"
"Patient Four is currently recovering the Eye Poke exam we just administered."
"Oh thank God," Tiedemann sighs with relief. Catching on to all the stares, "Um, I mean, 'And how is that going?'"
"Honestly, it's going quite well. The codes we extracted from him are amazing-"
"Does that mean we're almost done with him?" The Director sounds just a little too hopeful, somehow.
"Er, no. Not by a long shot-"
"Son of a bitch," Tiedemann hisses under his breath. The others choose to disregard that and instead fill him in on quite possibly the worst news of his life: Patient Four is what they consider to be of the 'purest' mindset; meaning, most unfourtunately, that he's pretty much the key component to their undertaking.
"Well," Tiedemann starts calmly, clasping his hands behind his back and glancing over one and all before him. "I truly thank you for making me hate my life worse than I ever even concieved possible. Now that I feel a spiraling depression looming just on my horizon, I think I'll call it a day." He promptly struts out of the facility, and of course no one dares say or do anything to try and stop him.
A month later and Tiedemann's now presiding over some other end of the department, aka-the people that don't deal with the patients, but rather handle the data provided them by the people that do. For the Director, being here is a reprieve. It's a shame these guys don't need looking over nearly as much as the others...
The procedures here were going very much as they should, although truth be told some of the security staff were getting a little wary of some of the scientists. Why? As he was informed, it seemed some of them were starting to have a 'change of heart'; in other words, they no longer believed in the research they were doing, much less the actual work. They were coming to the conclusion that the Marker was a 'bad' thing...
"Certainly can't have that kind of mindset setting in; we've come much too far and there is way too much at stake." Tiedemann shook his head. "I suppose the only thing to do here is-"
After explaining the neccesary protocols to averting what could be a small-time disaster, the EarthGov Director found his way back to his office, and his usual hefty tray of impending paperwork. Irked by the usual monotony of signing this and initialing that, he nonetheless plucked up his favorite pen and settled down to begin the task at hand-
And then he saw it. The small packet set alongside the In-Tray, set in just the kind of way that calls for one's immediate attention simply for how out of place it is. Scanning over it, he felt a grim satisfaction take hold in his gut, tightening it's grip all the more as his eyes drank in the printed words.
Oooooh, this time I've got him...
Patient Four had done something bizarre, yet again. This time he'd somehow managed to break out of his viewing room and run amok in the kitchens, and while yes, this was an error on the part of the viewing staff, Tiedemann saw it as a way to reduce the very sharp pain that arose in his ass nearly every time he went down to 'check up' on things. In other words, Clarke was taking the fall, and if Tiedemann got his way (which damned if he wouldn't), he was going to be taking this one hard. Damn hard.
According to the report, the CEC engineer had wound up down there after his attending doctor had gone off to the bathroom. Something that shouldn't have happened in the first place, but that's apparently what is to be expected when one employs individuals with highly irritable bowels. Anyway, once he'd gotten into the kitchens, all hell had broken loose. While most of the details were shaky at best, they all added up to some very strange maulings, including (but not limited to, by no means) one man being beaten to death with a pair of eggbeaters Patient Four had gotten hold of'. All in all, damages to both staff and the workplace as a whole were quite great, and no matter how hard anyone tried to argue it, Tiedemann was going to have his way: Isaac was to be put into stasis, indefinitely.
It wasn't the firing squad, sadly, but it was close enough to help him sleep easier at night.
Therefore, to Hans, the solution was a great deal. He'd finally be able to tour his own facility without that nagging dread of whatever the hell Patient Four might be up to under his unfoutunate watch.
For Isaac, well, the jury was out on that one.
Once he'd been put under, Isaac was left to the realm of his dreams, and considering the fact that dementia is an ailment of the mind, well...
In his dreams...
(Re)Enter the USG Ishimura, in all it's horrific glory. Once more he found himself inside the cavernous hell-hole, clutching Marty close and listening hard for the sounds of what-should-not-be-but-were-anyway...only to realize he's done this one too many times, and by now it's fucking old. Sighing irritably and lowering his weapon, he checks his objective locater and half-heartedly wanders off after it.
Somewhere along the lines, the Ishimura stopped being scary and instead became downright annoying. Same bloody halls, same creepy-ass 'transformed' staff...ugh. To Isaac, the charade was getting more than a little repetetive. To those that called this place 'home', however, it was about to be the exact opposite; their Master just came to pay them a visit.
"Really?" a slasher eagerly interrogates it's enhanced partner, poking him in his gushy guts relentlessly with one of it's arm blades as it's way of coersing more out of him. "Really? Really? Really? Really-?"
"YES REALLY!" the other one snaps loudly, causing the nag to quickly back down. "Now zip it!" Once silence takes hold again the enhanced slasher goes on to peer around the corner of one of the doorways. Sure enough-
"Holy Marker it IS him!" the less-intimidating of the two squeals before tearing around the corner in a frenzy. "MAAAAASSSSTTTEEEEEEEER-!"
BLAM!
"Can't say I didn't see that coming," the enhanced slasher sighs to itself, shaking it's head before ducking into the nearest vent so as to avoid the approaching Master. He's of the type that needs to be approached with care, after all. Great care.
They wouldn't have him any other way.
Back in the (real) Ishimura...
"Ow!" yelps one of the many of the slasher pack, having been roused out of it's 'thoughts' by- "The Master shot me!"
"Dumbass keep it down!" someone else snarls from the throng. "Sync your thoughts back up and quit being such a bitch!"
"But..." the former sniffles, before giving in and syncing back up with the masses.
(Meanwhile, upstairs and elsewhere...)
"Oh my GOD what the fuck was that?" shrieks (girlishly) a man by the name of Hendrick, startled by two things: some random noise that had seemingly come from well within the ship, and, oh merciful heavens-
"Oh...eheheh. J-Just, a r-r-roll of T-T-T.P-P...heh." He chortles nervously to himself as the disrupted roll rolls on by his boot.
However...
Damn this is so easy it's BORING! growls a slasher to itself, watching the man it was stalking from it's convient hiding spot well-within a darkened vent.
I think it's kinda funny... a nearby lurker pursuing the same 'prey' giggles softly as both predators watch with rapt attention as the latter of those small sounds takes it's toll after having been heard by the target.
"D-D-DAMMIT that i-i-is IT! I'm g-g-getting the FUCK o-out of here! I-I mean it! No more! NO MORE!" And as both creatures watch, the man bolts out of the ship like a bat straight out of hell itself. Seeing this, the slasher hangs it's head in irritation.
There's a reason you fetal fucktards aren't entitled to an opinion, you know.
...Huh? Hey, he'll be back tomorow, right? Right?
He better be...
Back inside Isaac's 'dreams'...
"Hah! How'd ya like them apples?" the engineer congratulates himself on a job well-done; he'd neutralized that sucker with one shot, after all. Not bad for having roughly a split second's notice before you were bear-hugged by a rampaging side of human beef. Anyway, back on to more pressing matters. He had an objective that needed done, might as well get on it before-
Kssssht!
"Isaac! Where the hell are you?" a familiar male voice yells into Isaac's RIG. "I told you to get down here an hour ago!"
Before Isaac could respond, another person tapped in. "Hammond you still haven't told us about this 'Marker' yet! Quit changing the subject!"
"Augh for the love of- I told you, I don't know anything about any damned Marker or anything like that-!"
"LIAR!"
"Back off! I'm yelling at Isaac here! Now dammit lemme finish! ISAAC GET DOWN HERE-!"
"ARGH! Ok, Hammond, DAMN!" Isaac practically screams over the RIG, illiciting instant silence from both opposing ends. After a small time...
"...Kendra?"
"Yes, Hammond?"
"Did you hear that?"
"...Yes Hammond."
"I think someone's listening in on us. Isaac, be careful. I think there's a third party out here..." With that the RIG link went dead from both his cohorts, leaving him mildly confused. Shaking it off, he follows his waypoint toward the Tram, but not before stopping at the Store convieniently placed before him. Only, just a slight problem here...
"What the hell?" he says aloud as the store window comes down and shows him, well, not what he wanted. He wanted to buy a damn gun, but there weren't any guns here! There were the usual holograms, except that now they were replaced with weird things he'd never seen before, and he was pretty sure one of these in particular was outdated...by a longshot. "Aw, who's been fucking with the damn Store?" he curses loudly. As if on cue-
"Wait a minute, how the hell did that get there?" someone voices over his RIG, someone whose voice he isn't familiar with...at all.
"Who the hell're you?" Isaac inquires, still holding the agitated edge to his voice.
"Why the hell does that matter?" the voice fires back. In the background he can hear what sounds like keys on a keyboard being tapped rapidly. "I'm working on this, is that alright with you?"
"Only if it fixes the Store," Isaac grumbles, watching the holograms fold back together as the Store shuts down for the moment.
"Yeah, yeah, it will," the mystery voice responds absentmindedly, still tapping away at keys that he can't see (since this is only a voice feed). "I don't know how that got there, I've been tweaking it as a prototype...for another fic..."
"A what?"
"Whoops, nevermind. I said nothing."
"What the hell is a 'fic'?"
"Something that really needs to stop saying 'hell', for starts."
"...That tells me nothing."
"Then you need to pay more attention." The voice sighs. "Right, here we go...I think."
Isaac taps into the Store again, and this time everything's as it should be. Before the person on the other end of the link leaves him, however, he's got one last question. "Why were you altering the Store in the first place?"
Now the voice takes on a somewhat devious tone. "Well, like I said, I got this idea for another fic-"
"There you go talking nonsense again-"
"Hey! Mind your business! *ahem* Anyway, I got an idea, so I was more or less setting up for it-"
"-And you needed the Store for it?"
"Obviously."
"...I don't want to know."
"Then stop asking. I've got better things to write anyway. Now buy your shit and begone with you!" The link goes offline, Isaac feels more lost than ever, and what's worse, before he even gets the chance to buy anything, a small white 'something' drops down onto the screen and then-
BOOM!
He gets thrown back into the far wall (with his classic howl of 'AAHHHRRRRRGH!') as whatever it was blows up in his face (and the Store somehow remains unscathed).
"I hate my life," he growls as he painfully drags himself up off the floor.
"Just get your ass on the Tram already." that weird voice comes over again.
"I want a restraining order from you."
"Mmm, I can see where you'd get that idea, yeah..."
One uneventful tram ride later...
"Isaac! Finally!" Hammond calls over, not even bothering to glance over from the hologram he's consulting as the door opens and Isaac bustles inside. "Listen, I don't know what happened back there on the RIGs-"
"Me neither. I think you two must've lost it." Isaac shakes his head. Hammond, however, suddenly goes rigid and turns slowly to face him, his expression one of complete and utter shock. "...What?"
"Well I'll be damned," Hammond breathes. "I can't believe it..."
"'Believe' what?"
"Congrats on the aquisition of vocal cords!" Hammond strides over and swats him jovially on the shoulder. "I figured I'd have to die to see, erm, hear it, but wow! They sound good!"
"What in the-?"
The 'dream' suddenly changes; now he and Hammond are standing in the cafeteria, except in this instance it looks as it had before the necromorphs had taken over it. None of the blood, gore, and whatever that organic gunk was growing out of the floor, although outside it was still the same: the hallway beyond was overrun with it, just as he remembered it to be. Back in the cafeteria...
"Dammit woman! Would you cut that out?" one of the men at a nearby crowded table shouted over his hand of cards.
"Maybe someone should make better use of their cards then," the woman addressed chortled wryly.
"Are you insinuating that I don't know how to use my cards?" the first man growls.
"Ben, do calm down, it is just a game after all..." another man at the table chides the first.
"HOARDER!" the man assumed to be 'Ben' barks, pointing accusingly at the woman with his free hand. She just stares at him until his breathing becomes even again.
"...Done yet?"
"Yes, yes, I suppose." 'Ben' waves her off. "By all means, feel free to continue your dastardly cheating."
"It's not cheating-"
"It's cheating if the Captain says it's cheating!"
"This is a daily occurence around here, don't worry about it." Hammond leans over to Isaac. "Just gotta wait a minute..."
Two hours later...
"-Uno!"
"This is BULLSHIT!" the man named 'Ben' roars, leaping from his seat in a rage, his suddenly discarded cards fluttering from his hands.
"Suck it up, Mathius. For God's-"
"-'Altman's'-" chimes in the guy next to Mathius.
"-sake, this is only the fifty-sixth time you've lost. You outta be used to it by n-oh." She stops midsentence as she locks eyes with Isaac. "Well, isn't this a surprise. I thought you'd never die."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Isaac growls at her, causing her face to drop almost instantly.
"...Whoa."
"I know, right? That's what I was thinking!" Hammond adds.
"But, I thought he was always a mute?" Kendra still seems to be drawing a blank at that one.
"Same here. I don't know what they did to him-"
"'Ay! 'Hell's going on over here?" the man known as 'Ben' bustles up to the three now, glaring especially at Kendra before rounding on the other two as well. "Who's this?" he asks pointedly in regard to Isaac.
"That would be-" Hammond starts, before 'Ben' seems to figure it out all on his own.
"AH! I know! You must be that new coffee boy I sent for! Excellent timing, chap!" he suddenly grabs and shakes Isaac's hand before Isaac can really 'grasp' what's going on. "My other one's been looking a little 'under the weather', lately..."
He points out what Isaac recognizes as an exploder-type necromorph behind the bar, where it stands eyeing them all, twitching and groaning to itself.
"Geez man! Why didn't you put him down yet?" Isaac's about to, but 'Ben' cuffs him before he can quite get off the shot.
"Hold it a minute, there, lad! He's still got one or two good cups left in him yet!" To emphasize his point, he yells to the exploder, "Francis! Fix your replacement a cup of Joe!"
The exploder makes some kind of excited -noise- and hurriedly sets to work, which surely must be a task in itself on account of it's 'much altered' anatomy and all-over bodily re-configuration. Isaac decides it best not to watch that painful display and instead turns to the small congregation he's sadly set up with.
"Right, so uh, who're you again?" he asks of Mathius.
"Ugh, figures. Nobody seems to respect authority anymore." he sighs. "I, am Captain Benjamin Mathius-"
"You mean you 'were'-" sniggers Kendra.
"I still am, curse it all!" Mathius barks at her, causing her to break out into a hard bout of laughter that sounds a lot more condescending than it should have. Either that or it's just Isaac's overwhelming hatred of her telling him it is. Both seem like pretty feasable possibilties...
"Ah, Mr. Clarke!" the man Isaac now recognizes as Dr. Kyne rises from his seat to join the standing party, offering a hand. "Good to see you again, although admittedly maybe not under the current circumstances-"
"Er-" Isaac doesn't know what to say as he shakes the dead man's hand.
"He's not dead." Hammond interjects.
"-Yet," Kendra sniggers low under her breath.
"Oh! Well then, good to see you all the same!"
"Um, yeah...whatever you say..."
Isaac is sparred having to say anything more by a sudden gutteral, clicking 'Raaaoooowwwwllll' at his side. Crying out in sudden (and understandable) panic, he throws himself backward as the others all stare at him, including Francis, who only wanted to offer him his freshly prepared drink.
"Francis, you have got to stop making those Altman-awful fucking noises," Mathius shakes his head. "One of these days you're going to give someone a damn stroke, I swear..."
With any luck, it'll be you. The necromorphic Francis snarls mentally before turning again to his extremely-shaken (and now embarrased to boot) Master with an 'apologetic', erm, noise.
"Uh, thanks," Isaac warily takes the offered drink, inwardly resigning himself not to touch it even if hell really does freeze over. Francis bows -and Isaac cringes- before taking his leave and hobbling off back behind the bar.
"That there'll put hair on your chest, that will!" Mathius announces proudly. After seeing the awkward expression on the engineer's face, however; "Oh, what? You don't believe me?"
Before anyone can even think to react, Mathius tears open his own shirt to reveal his Austin Powers/Burt Reynolds-esc chest. "Behold!"
"Urgh!" Kendra gripes in disgust. "Dammit Ben put it away! There's animal's nesting in there!"
"I...did not, need to know that..." Hammond drawls blankly, unable to tear his eyes away from the spectacle even though he very much wants to. Beside him, Kyne's about the same.
"...Nor, did I..."
Some time later and the gang are now seated around the bar, talking about all manner of random subjects. Currently, Isaac and Kendra are in a heated arguement; care to guess about what?
"Kendra, how could you!" Hammond snaps as Isaac finishes relaying to him the details of her betrayal.
"'How could I' what?"
"Y-You evil bitch, you made ME out to be the bad guy!" Hammond yelps, hurt at the remembrance. "People probably hated me right up until the end! People I don't even KNOW, damn you!"
As the arguement only gets worse, no one seems to notice the small audience peering in at them all.
"His head component must be so proud," the Divider breathes in awe.
"You dunce, he doesn't have a head component!" another leaper yowls at him.
"Piss off, of course he does! Especially if the rest of his components are anything like mine!" -To which the conjoined Components all wail 'Awwwl!' as one...before promptly detatching from their leader.
"OH you miserable-!"
"Eeeeennnnyaaaaah!" the free-wandering pieces cackle as they quickly disperse around the room.
"-So glad I'm not made of Components," a slasher shakes it's head.
"-DON'T RUB IT IN!" The Head screams as it scrambles about trying to chase down it's cohorts.
As that scene plays out 'beyond the looking glass', inside the cafeteria the battle still rages.
"I say we make her meet Francis' in-laws!" Mathius offers, much to the confusion of his audience. "Well, I mean, if they look anything like he does..."
"Urrrgh!" Francis barks suddenly, seemingly angered by the remark.
"Uh-oh, looks like you pissed off the coffee-boy," Kendra taunts. "Now you've done it-"
"Oh my God-!" Isaac yelps, suddenly diving for cover. Before anyone else can truly catch on...
Insult MY in-laws will you! Francis challenges mentally, (which you can only imagine how that came out physically) drawing up his 'good' arm before slamming it down, effectively engulfing the entire room in the sickly explosion-
-and then there was nothing at all.
Ah, what the hell? He found himself thinking as he tried to really think at all.
"Oh! There you are, Mr. Clarke! Thought I'd lost you for a moment there!" A jovial voice seemed to emanate to him from the void.
...Er, what?
The voice seemed lapsed into an odd sort of silence before it's owner finally came back around, however sounding rather distracted. "Ah, yes of course, I forgot to tell him...oh, yes, well that's always- yes. Got to stop jumping ahead of things like that, people will tend to get lost-"
Alright, seriously? What the fuck're you on about right now?
"Sorry, sorry! Very sorry about that! Was talking to Amelia, completely forgot about you for a moment there-"
Ugh. Kyne you creepy, jittery bastard-
"Jittery? Do I sound jittery? I'm not 'jittery'- H-HEY! Amelia, how could you?"
She agrees with me, doesn't she?
Kyne's resounding voice suddenly turns just a tad icy. "Never you mind, Mr. Clarke. Sometimes Amelia has her moments...but ah, well. Alright now, where were we again?"
I have not one fucking clue.
"OH! Yes, yes yes yes yes YES, THAT'S where we left off!"
...?
And then comes the simple answer:
"-We're in your head, and I'm going to sum things up for, erm, well, let's just say...oh...you and everyone else."
...
...
...What?
"Allow me to explain. *ahem* By the Twenty-Fifth Century, Earth's resources were ravaged.
Consumed.
Exhausted."
Why does that sound like some really scripted bullshit right there?
"Because in all honesty that's pretty much what it amounts to. Oh, and I'm also going to be showing you some random images to go with my story."
Wait, what-?
But suddenly said 'images' appear right before his mind's eyes (you've seen the cut-scene, have you not? Oh please don't make me describe it, I know it's considered 'lazy' but...but..)
Whoa hell!
"I know. It's odd. But do try and bear with me, please, this won't take very-"
-Hell with that! Do you SEE this picture quality? I mean DAMN-!
"Wait, what?"
But the engineer goes on, It's like I got HD in my frikkin MIND! And it's even better than that shit they sell in the Stores!
"...Ooooooo,kay?"
And so it goes, what with Kyne's summing up of the events of 'Game One'-
Wait, did you just say 'Game'?
...No.
"No, you did! See, I've got subtitles too, and they clearly said-
-Nothing! They said nothing but that this chapter is over! So just mind your business and, um, what not! Yeah!
"You people have such issues..."
Kyne?
"Yes?"
Narrate your meager part and begone already.
"Ugh...fine. So this is the role I'm left to..."
Psh, oh yeah? Have you seen mine? I mean, look at this shit. You'd think I was insane or something!
"..."
...
And yet...
A cacophony of enraged 'voices' rages throughout the cargo hold as the multitude of necromorphs howl out their frustrations at one certain 'former coffee-boy's outbreak that sadly cost all of them their syncing with their beloved Master. As you can only imagine:
This. Means. War.
-Thank Altman the Ishimura's secretly assigned 'clean-up crew' have all gone home for the night, as one can only imagine what it sounds like in there.
And so time passes, but as is the way of dreams, they somehow manage to span greater lengths of time in actuality than they seem to. By that meaning, Isaac's been out a lot longer than has been insinuated. Try by, oh, round about three YEARS.
But now...
"Isaac? Isaac, can you hear me?" An unfamiliar male voice asks in a low, urgent tone, as a faint clicking sound is heard, one not unlike the rapid snapping of fingers.
"Oh dear. Well, it seems our time together has run it's course, Mr. Clarke." Kyne chortled from well within the realm of his subconscious.
But, wait... His mind felt heavy, and oddly, split...
Had he been sleeping? Had this all, in fact, been...?
H-Hey! What the-?
"-For the Marker, changes all." Kyne's voice echoed ominously, before light exploded painfully before his very eyes, and the darkness was no more.
At least, in one aspect.
~For the most part, keep in mind that parts of this were supposed to be confusing and what not; I was experimenting with making you as the reader feel just as 'lost' as Isaac, who sadly has to put up with this bull. And I inserted myself for, really, no real reason at all; kind of like how 'they' made the animated movies of the game for *cough* no real reason either (at least that's my opinion).
I also hinted at another fic more as an attempt to spur myself into FINALLY putting an idea I've had for ages into actual writing. Maybe arrousing possible interest might help too. Hey, who knows.
Um, yeah, from there I dunno...but thank Altman! No more 'facility' scenes! -I apologize for the repetition there. And these lengthy notes. Does anyone even read these? Hmm...