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Post by NATHANIEL D. PATTERSON on Dec 2, 2012 22:55:59 GMT -5
Right hand on the ledge, left foot on a fake windowsill, and a shudder passed through his left arm as it cramped up but he kept moving. Farther up the wall, he wished that this was a typical climbing wall. It was possible to scale a normal climbing wall with minimal muscle if they had some foresight in the placement of their hands and legs.
This wall on the other hand had been modified to simulate climbing up the side of a building. Also he was not connected to a rope and there was no mat to fall onto below him. This used to stress Nathaniel out. Truth was, the first time he had climbed this wall had been his second week at Abstergo. About seven feet up, he made the mistake of glancing down and noticed that the cruel scientist watching him had moved the mat away. In a panic about not falling, he fell. The bruises lasted over two weeks afterward, his back still hurt when returned to work.
This changed as Nathaniel grew more comfortable with the climbing. Rather Nathaniel feared that, while he was afraid of heights, Geoffrey was not, and that in minor ways Geoffrey had started to take over. After his complete severing from reality back in August Nathaniel was not comfortable with that thought. How long would it be until he was reduced to that panicked state, blabbering on in a jumbled mess of Latin and Italian?
Nathaniel pushed those thoughts out of his mind as he urged his muscles to move faster. He climbed at a quicker rate, nearing the top of the wall. Just as he reached the top, Nathaniel grabbed the top which was merely a vertical bar and hauled himself onto the final foothold. He could see the entire room from this vantage point. The dummies, the other scaling walls, and even some more modern workout equipment, it all seemed so small from his view.
Only one other person milled around in the open area below. The older scientist didn’t seem to be paying any attention, all of his focus centered on the phone in his hands. Nathaniel knew it was this man’s job to be keeping an eye on him because how valuable would Nathaniel be if he snapped his neck or broke his back from falling? For a moment, he was tempted to find out. He slacked his hold on the bar, his body pitched forward and Nathaniel almost did lose his balance. Then the panic and the fear settled in, his mind seemed to realize the fact that Nathaniel was petrified by heights.
Nathaniel squeezed his eyes shut and hugged the pole, his entire body trembled from the fear. For a moment, Nathaniel was truly terrified that he would slip and fall to his death. The last time he had felt like this was when he was at the Grand Canyon. At least that time there had been a railing between him and a fall to his death. He heard the scientist finally take notice, and shout something at him, which Nathaniel could only assume was encouragement or a threat. They seemed one in the same these days.
After a few deep breaths, Nathaniel managed crack open an eye, and took a tentative step down. It surprised Nathaniel how quickly Geoffrey’s skills kicked in. Nothing felt more comfortable than scaling down that wall. For a moment, Nathaniel felt comfortable to just let instinct do its work until suddenly shouting overtook his hearing. Someone yelled at him from above, he heard an arrow rip through the air just an inch away from his ear. He let go of the wall and fell into a drop, which broke the hallucination and Nathaniel started to panic.
He expected his back to hit the ground, to be knocked unconscious and bruised like last time. However Geoffrey seemed to take control again and Nathaniel landed hard on his feet. At first the landing seemed too good to be true and it turned out to be. A heartbeat after, Nathaniel’s knees buckled from underneath him in an explosion of pain that brought tears to his eyes. He dropped down to the ground and tried to rub out his knees from underneath the standard-issue track pants. It was obvious that Geoffrey’s had been able to take a much harder beating than Nathaniel’s could.
Nathaniel shot a glare at the scientist; he had not moved to help. He stood writing on his clipboard, only occasionally glancing up at Nathaniel.
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Post by ASTRID M. CARTER on Dec 3, 2012 21:23:56 GMT -5
In Astrid’s eyes, Abstergo’s training room was a horrible place. With the training walls and dummies, it reminded her all too much of the Animus sessions and her role as a test subject. As a result, it was not uncommon for a hallucination to disrupt her thoughts. These lasted typically twenty minutes, yet every day they seemed to last longer and clearer than before. The Bleeding Effect was slowly getting worse, and it seemed like the Abstergo scientists were encouraging it. They forced her to go to the training rooms more and more, as they were always documenting just how many skills she had retained from her ancestor.
The large, glass double doors opened, revealing the pristine training room. A raven-haired scientist led her in, gesturing toward an area in the far right corner, with workout equipment, a pair of dummies, and a tall training wall. She knew this procedure all too well, as every two weeks it was the same. So, reluctantly, Astrid started toward them, until a small figure up above caught her eye.
There was a man, most definitely a test subject, up on the training wall. He was attempting to climb down from the tall structure, although it didn’t seem as if he was having such an easy time. His eyes were closed shut, and he was hugging onto the pole as if his life depended on it – which, Astrid realized, was probably true. Curious about who the man was, she edged closer, with a glance toward the scientist in charge. He wasn’t paying any attention, and was playing around on some fancy phone with occasional glances at his test subject. The scientists never seemed to care much, as they were much more interested in their research than the actual people they were testing on.
Just as she had nearly reached the training wall, the man jumped off, landing hard on his feet. A moment later, his knees buckled, and he fell to the ground. Stifling a laugh, Astrid took another step closer. It was obvious that he wasn’t at a later stage of the Bleeding Effect, or he would have made a smooth landing due to the influence from his ancestor. She, who was at Stage V, retained all skills from Jacqueline, who was a swift climber. This was, perhaps, the only good benefit of the Bleeding Effect, as it influenced her otherwise clumsy athletic skills. However, speaking French randomly wasn’t exactly a blast, and neither were the hallucinations that made her forget who she was at times.
“Smooth landing,” she said, quiet enough for the scientists to take no notice. Now that she was closer, Astrid realized just how familiar the man looked. From her knowledge, she didn’t know anyone in the testing facilities. Then again, she had rarely spoken to any of them, as Abstergo liked keeping their subjects locked up and isolated. Doing that, their precious test subjects felt more like prisoners than actual employees. Of course, this never got out to the real world. Abstergo were much too clever to let anyone go once they signed up. Unless you somehow escaped, leaving would be nearly impossible.
“They’re so helpful, aren't they?” Astrid added, with a glance at the distracted scientists.
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Post by NATHANIEL D. PATTERSON on Dec 3, 2012 22:15:29 GMT -5
Nathaniel heard stifled laughter and he could practically feel his temper flare. The idiot scientist could not put forth the effort to watch him and then laughed when he actually screwed up. Chances were that Nathaniel would have to make another scramble up that damned wall; the scientist would finally watch and get his notes written.
He turned to make a snide comment, even if it might cost him a meal or a shower. Honestly, he didn’t want to lose either of these but Nathaniel’s ego was important him. Without it then that would be one less difference between him and Geoffrey. The humble bastard.
“Well, I would like to see—“ His words died in his mouth when he turned to face not the scientist, but a girl. Judging by her clothing she was another test subject. The loose-fitting white cotton shirt, the white track pants, and a bed-head that wouldn’t be tamed. Nathaniel wondered if Abstergo wanted them to look like asylum patients.
Nathaniel could count on one hand how many times he had interacted with other subjects. Those interactions had been nothing more than brief glances in the hall or little snippets as he was swapped in and out for Animus sessions. Even then the other subjects were either far along in the Bleeding Effect and could hardly speak three words of English or terrified and struggling as they were shoved into the Animus. Nathaniel grinned at the prospect of having a real conversation with another person.
Then she teased Nathaniel for his landing and the smile disappeared. He was never a fan of being teased.
At first, Nathaniel didn’t respond to the girl’s words. He slowly struggled to his feet, his knees popped and cracked as if they had suddenly aged thirty years. He wanted to challenge her to do better but he had little doubt she could. Then she mentioned the scientists and glanced in their direction.
Nathaniel grunted in agreement. “They see experiments, not people. What did you expect?” He asked as he pushed on his back, which also popped. It had never truly recovered from his first fall. He rolled his head and stretched his neck, but stopped halfway. From this angle, he got a look at the girl’s face underneath that head of red hair.
He had never been very good with names but he could recognize faces like he could recite the Declaration of Independence or first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Hint: he could recite them word for word from memory.
He knew this girl’s face. Chances are it was only in passing, his memory did crazy things like that often but it bothered him. She seemed more familiar than a woman he passed in the halls.
“This may sound crazy,” He started and then reconsidered his words. Everything was crazy in this damn place. “This may sound odd but have we met before?” Nathaniel prayed that he wasn’t hallucinating. Maybe Geoffrey had known a red-headed girl; maybe their ancestors had crossed paths. Honestly Nathaniel would dismiss very little as unbelievable these days.
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Post by ASTRID M. CARTER on Dec 4, 2012 22:06:20 GMT -5
“Well, I would like to see –”
The man’s words faltered as he turned around to face Astrid, who was, once again, reminded of how familiar he looked. She knew few people in the facilities, as most of the test subjects were too far along with the Bleeding Effect to even handle a conversation. These were the subjects who had been at Abstergo for years, spending hundreds of hours in the Animus. So far, Astrid and the familiar man were lucky. They at least still knew who they were.
“They see experiments, not people. What did you expect?”
He spoke again, stretching and pushing on his back. All of the test subjects looked the same – tired and defeated. Abstergo didn’t seem to really care or even notice just how exhausted their subjects all looked, as long as they followed their orders. If they didn’t have so much power, Astrid would have loved to show them what she thought. However, she wasn’t exactly brave enough to stand up against a bunch of Templars. Perhaps if enough people gathered together, it could happen. But, this was unlikely. No one was brave enough to start it, and most test subjects weren’t themselves after the Bleeding Effect.
With a slight shrug, Astrid pushed that thought out of her mind, and turned back to the man. He had spoken while she was daydreaming, but she managed to catch the last part of his question.
“This may sound odd, but have we met before?”
The comment took Astrid by surprise, as she was beginning to think she had just been imagining that sense of familiarity. It wouldn’t have been anything new, since the Bleeding Effect often did that to people. However, if he had noticed something as well, then maybe she wasn’t completely losing her mind. Perhaps they really did know each other, in some way. Or, maybe they were both just crazy and the Bleeding Effect was slowly taking over. That wouldn’t be anything new.
“Uh, I have no idea,” she answered, shrugging. “I’m Astrid, if that helps. Tu regardes – er, I mean, you look familiar. And, uh, ignore the French. Jacqueline likes to check in every once in a while.” Only after saying it did she realize how insane that sentence made her sound. It was true, though. She had a habit of confusing French with English, and it got worse every day. Sometimes, she could correct her mistake. However, most days, she’d ramble on completely in French, until she noticed the confused expression on the person’s face. It was entertaining at times, yet Astrid wasn’t looking forward to the day when she forgot English altogether.
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Post by NATHANIEL D. PATTERSON on Dec 4, 2012 23:07:09 GMT -5
The longer Nathaniel stared at the girl, the more familiar she became. For a brief moment, he truly contemplated if this was the Bleeding Effect. Geoffrey could be remembering some former fling or another assassin perhaps. Did they have female assassins back in the Renaissance, Nathanial realized he didn’t know. He made a mental note to watch for that in his inevitable Animus session in the next few days. However he even began to recognize the faces of the people in the Animus and he did not remember a red-head. Then again, Nathaniel reminded himself, she did not necessarily have to be a red-head in the Animus. Geoffrey was strong and durable; he would have handled that landing with much more grace.
However Nathaniel had to give himself some credit. He was better looking than Geoffrey had ever been. He didn’t necessarily look his best at the moment, he looked vaguely like a starved rat, but with a comb, a decent shower, and a mirror, he could be back to normal. Well, that wasn’t true. He had tried that but with the lost weight and the bags under his eyes, he only looked like a starved rat with well-groomed hair.
The girl’s voice snapped Nathaniel out of his thoughts. “I have no idea.” That was wonderful, Nathaniel thought, very useful. Then she said her name, Astrid. That rang enough bells in Nathaniel’s head that he considered the possibility that he was hallucinating again. She then spoke a line of French which Nathaniel vaguely understood before switching back to English. She was farther along in the Bleeding Effect than he had originally guessed. The scientists around him were constantly throwing around the terms ‘stage three’ and ‘stage four’ in front of him so he could only guess she was worse off.
“Don’t worry about the French. I broke down in front of a classroom full of students and cursed at them in English, Latin, and Italian apparently. Not my finest moment.” Nathaniel tried to make light of the situation but his laugh was half-hearted at best. The thought still bothered him. He had been their teacher and to have a nervous breakdown in front of them? He refused to imagine the thoughts that had gone through their heads. He even hit one girl with an eraser. While he loved to imagine escaping from Abstergo, he wondered where he would go. He could flip his shit any second and kill someone which was a terrifying thought.
Then realization hit him like a freight train. “Astrid Carter, class of 2002!” He said with a broad smile. “I’m Nathaniel Patterson; I was a teacher at your school during your senior year. I believe I had you in my history class.”
She had been a troublemaker and Nathaniel respected that. He imagined that the girl got quite a few detentions during her high school years but he never gave her one. If he gave detentions, it only meant he had to stay after school as well.
For a moment, he was offended that she had not recognized him but that was about five years ago, and he did not exactly look like the same person.
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Post by ASTRID M. CARTER on Dec 6, 2012 21:18:35 GMT -5
“Don’t worry about the French. I broke down in front of a classroom full of students and cursed at them in English, Latin, and Italian apparently. Not my finest moment.”
It took a moment for Astrid to register that comment, and realize that he was talking about something that had happened outside of the facilities. As far as she knew, no one was allowed out of Abstergo once they signed up as a subject. The piles of paperwork made sure of that. Unless he had somehow escaped, Astrid had a hard time believing that Abstergo would let someone go willingly. The Templars kept a watchful eye on those who knew too much, particularly the test subjects. To let one go would be dangerous for their reputation, since very few people knew what was really happening inside the facilities.
“I’m Nathaniel Patterson; I was a teacher at your school during your senior year. I believe I had you in my history class.”
Finally, Astrid felt the memories returning. She could remember Nathaniel, who she knew as Mr. Patterson, as her history teacher. However, if he hadn’t mentioned it, Astrid doubted that she’d be able to tell. Not only did she have a horrible memory, but her former teacher also looked very different than from what she could remember. He seemed to be thinner and not as well-kept, which Astrid supposed was an outcome of the Bleeding Effect. Most test subjects looked like that, with their always messy hair and that tired look in their eyes.
“Oh, je me souviens de toi. I think I slept in most of your classes, right?” she replied, her words a mix of French and English.
Even though the mystery of Nathaniel’s identity was solved, something was still bothering Astrid. She wondered why he would leave his teaching job and go join Abstergo, and then apparently leave the Templars and go back to teaching until his breakdown. If he had somehow done this, Astrid wanted to learn how. She hadn’t heard of anyone leaving the facilities, and when she mentioned this to the scientists, they ignored her and turned back to their research. If Nathaniel had gotten out, maybe there was a chance that she could too. Anything was better than being stuck in the facilities for the rest of her life, or until whenever the Bleeding Effect took over completely, which she figured wouldn’t be too long. She’d seen the test subjects who had worked at Abstergo for years, with their minds completely lost to their ancestor’s. If there was a way to avoid a future like that, Astrid felt like she’d do anything to make that happen.
“How did you even leave Abstergo in the first place?” she asked, a little too loudly. A scientist looked up, yelled something, and then went back to fiddling with his phone. With an amused glance at Nathaniel, she continued on in a lower tone. “I thought they didn’t let any test subjects out of this prison.”
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Post by NATHANIEL D. PATTERSON on Dec 8, 2012 23:52:21 GMT -5
Recognition flashed across Astrid’s face and Nathaniel could not hold back a smile. It had been months since he last saw a familiar face and even if she had only been a student, it was a breath of fresh air. He only had to hope that this would not be the only time their paths crossed, however the amount of separation kept between subjects seemed to claim otherwise. Some of the happiness was short lived though as Astrid spoke. “I think I slept in most of your classes, right?”
Nathaniel’s smile faltered for a second and he glared at Astrid. “Hey, I was a fantastic teacher. You should have paid more attention, especially since you ended up here. Have to know your history.” He tried to keep the frown in place but it quickly dissolved into a stifled laugh. “I apologize, in a place like this; I need to give myself something to laugh about.” He said and his laughs dissolved into coughs. He silently hoped that he would get some water when he returned to his room.
It was a cramp little cage that Nathaniel had become accustomed to. He deeply missed his apartment and his own bed but he lived with what he received. It was also devoid of any sharp objects which Nathaniel was grateful for. If he was currently living in his apartment, he would have hidden anything harmful in a safe that Geoffrey couldn’t break into. The last thing he needed was to injure himself or anyone around him. He had been lucky that day in the classroom that the most threatening item in the room had been that eraser.
Then Astrid asked him how he had left and he could only imagine how hopeful it sounded. Most subjects were bound to their rooms, never saw the outside world, they couldn’t leave after signing over their lives to Abstergo. Nathaniel had merely gotten a lucky break.
“I hid the symptoms; I pretended that the Animus had no effect.” Nathaniel was typically the type of person that stared into people’s eyes when he spoke, but this time he let his eyes drop to the floor. “I did not give them anything to study because I was not suffering from the positive or negative effects of the Animus. When I asked to leave, they let me leave as long as I swore to keep my mouth shut. That was my biggest mistake.” He knew that many of the subjects, before they had lost their minds, would stare at him as if he were crazy. Nathaniel had had a chance to leave and he called it a mistake?
“I thought that if I wasn’t exposed to the Animus, the bleeding effect would eventually go away.” Nathaniel laughed again but this time it was half-hearted. “Obviously, I was dead wrong. So I was dragged back to this place and they only continue to test me because I resisted the bleeding effect. They want to see how far they could push me.” All this time Nathaniel had tried to keep his voice in check but that sentence came out in a mangled accent, halfway between American and English like a poor Shakespearian actor.
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Post by ASTRID M. CARTER on Dec 9, 2012 21:40:46 GMT -5
“Hey, I was a fantastic teacher. You should have paid more attention, especially since you ended up here. Have to know your history.”
For a few moments, a smile flashed across Nathaniel’s face. It was a rare thing to see in the facilities, as most test subjects spent their time worrying about hallucinations and such. To forget about all of that for a brief moment was reassuring to Astrid, and she was glad to find a familiar face in the facilities. Knowing absolutely no one other than scientists had been a dull experience.
“I hid the symptoms; I pretended that the Animus had no effect.”
Then, Nathaniel spoke again, and the answer proved to be much simpler than Astrid had thought. Of course, if Abstergo didn’t know of any negative causes, they wouldn’t be as protective of their subjects. Those who had been greatly affected by the Animus were much more dangerous to society, and Abstergo wouldn’t want the word getting out about their testing. To hide the many symptoms must have been difficult, though. Astrid herself couldn’t control her hallucinations, or hide them enough for an onlooker to not suspect anything. They were too random, and she could never tell when one was about to happen.
“When I asked to leave, they let me leave as long as I swore to keep my mouth shut. That was my biggest mistake.”
The last part of Nathaniel’s explanation caught Astrid off-guard, since she couldn’t imagine why anyone would say leaving the facilities was a mistake. If she had been given a chance at freedom, she would have jumped at the chance, and do anything to keep away from Abstergo. Of course, now that she thought about it, avoiding the Templars would be nearly impossible. They had eyes and ears everywhere, and at some point, they’d discover whoever they were looking for.
“They want to see how far they could push me.”
Typical Abstergo. They never saw their test subjects as actual people, instead viewing them as tools for whatever research they were doing. And, if anyone tried to protest, they’d be quickly silenced. Abstergo had so much power and wealth, that they could get away with practically anything.
“Of course, that sounds just like the Templars. Sometimes, I wish we had a way of getting back at them.” she muttered, all traces of humour gone. “I wonder if there’d be any way of us all getting out of here...” Astrid paused, with another glance at the scientist, who was now talking loudly on his cell phone. “If we could get organized with the other test subjects and –” For a moment, there was a trace of hope in her voice, but this soon disappeared when Astrid thought of what they’d have to deal with. A bunch of unstable test subjects didn’t stand a chance against the Templars and their power. They’d just get killed in the process. So, with a slight shake of her head, Astrid spoke again, the hope in her voice now gone. ”No, nevermind. Forget I said anything. Abstergo would never let it happen.”
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Post by NATHANIEL D. PATTERSON on Dec 19, 2012 22:05:23 GMT -5
Nathaniel wished that he could share Astrid’s desire for freedom, for a long time he had considered attempting an escape. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were other test subjects itching to be rid of the white uniform, and return to their normal lives. However Nathaniel couldn’t imagine those people were in their right minds. The subjects that still had a shred of sanity were probably in a similar mindset as Nathaniel had been when he started. History was fascinating, the pay was good, and you were experiencing something that no one has seen or done in hundreds of years. Never once had Nathaniel stopped, and imagined the possible side effects of such an experience.
That wasn’t the only thing holding him back. He just had to imagine the faces of his students during his breakdown, and that was enough to put a pit in his stomach. He knew that he no longer belonged on the outside unless there was a cure for this Bleeding Effect. However as he watched Astrid shook her head and the hope disappeared from her voice; he couldn’t sit by as she rotted in this place. While he believed that he no longer belonged outside, that did not mean he could not help Astrid. Nathaniel assumed that, as her former teacher helping her was still part of his job description.
He pulled in closer to Astrid and lowered his voice in hopes the scientists, who had started to chat and chose to completely ignore them, wouldn’t hear. “You seem to forget that most of the test subjects are assassin-trained.” He hated thinking that way, but the Bleeding Effect did have some perks. He was certain that if a group of subjects were to ban together and stay lucid long enough, they could take out a few Abstergo guards. “I’m not too interested in leaving, I do not want a repeat of my breakdown,” He sighed, but managed a weak smile. “I would be willing to help you in any way, if possible.” He reached out to touch her shoulder, but decided against it at the last possible moment and let his hand swing awkwardly at his side.
Nathaniel shot another glance over his shoulder; the two scientists were completely ignoring them at this point. It was a lovely thought that the beginnings of an escape plan were happening right under their noses. Nathaniel silently hoped those two morons were the first ones fired if subjects escaped. Maybe, Nathaniel thought, they should give the two something to worry about.
“While a real escape plan may need some time, I have a way to get back at them right now.” The weak smile turned into a mischievous one. “The French and English were never close friends throughout history. Throw a few swear words at each other, a punch or two, send these two idiots into a panic. How about it?” Nathaniel could barely hear his own words, but for the first time in weeks, he was truly excited about something. While he may not be able to escape, to show Abstergo who was boss, but he could possibly scare these two scientists. There was nothing more in this world that Nathaniel wanted to see than the scientists try to break up a fight between two trained assassins.
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