An Alt of:
Sarahs_Caracters
http://sarahcheer.deviantart.com/art/Eudeamon-373787658?q=gallery%3Asarahcheer%2F43861587&qo=0
As she struggled to breathe through her rubber coated mouth and nose,
she watched as a processing technician prepared the helmet that was going to encapsulate her head. It first looked to be a solid, metal shell–a rounded ovoid matching the shape and size of Sarah’s head. Instead of eye openings, there was a pair of opaque, oval patches of black stuff that glinted as if sprinkled with glass dust. The helmet parted in two halves, left and right, when triggered by a remote key. Lining the inside of each half was a rubbery, blue foam that had presumably been molded from Sarah’s face while she had been unconscious.
Each half was a perfect mold of the corresponding side of her face. There were no gaps except for a shallow space, like a tiny air pocket, that would be below her nose in and front of her mouth. From the sides of this shallow breathing space, two tubes on each half, four in total, passed through the foam to openings underneath the helmet’s chin. The tubes were lined with a series of tiny, mechanical filters. Those four, small openings were the only way she would be able to get air. While she watched, the technician was brushing every nook and cranny of the interior of the helmet with more of the black, latex goo. Katrina slowly shook her head in useless denial of what was to come next.
What came next was the helmet. Its insides were sticky with fresh latexlike
stuff, she could feel it spreading over her skin. The molded foam interior
was pressed around her head from both sides, adding pressure from all sides.
The pressure increased until, with an audible click, the two halves met in the
middle and joined. Sarah’s head was locked inside a steel shell. The foam was snug all over her head, ears, and face. She had been blinded, and now she was deafened. She could hear absolutely nothing through the helmet and sound absorbent foam. The wet rubber oozed across her skin like thick glue. It was stifling. She began to hyperventilate, desperately sucking air in from the shallow open space in front of her lips. The mimetic latex goop was dripping down over her lips and chin, adding further to the fear of suffocation.
Please, make this stop.
It can’t always be like this. Not for eight months!
She waited, frantic, in the darkness for a while. It seemed like a long time.
There came a burst of static in her ears, which suddenly transformed the
technician’s voice.
“Negotiating link with mimetic network aaand… Custodian: default
mimetic setting.”
Sarah noticed a change. Her breath was coming more easily. The latex
in her nose, mouth, and throat was contracting, becoming thinner. It was
happening all around her head. It felt as if her entire head was being vacuum sealed, a not entirely pleasant sensation when added to the ubiquitous pressure of the foam. The feeling of having the inside of her nose and mouth being vacuum sealed was even more bizarre. The stuff was becoming less liquid and sticky, as well. In a few minutes, it had transformed into a dry, latex sheath–thin as paper–that had adhered to ever part of her head and mouth in perfect detail.
With her rubber coated tongue she explored her rubber-encased teeth and lips.
Movement of her tongue and lips was still slightly limited within the tight
coating, but it was a whole lot better than before. It was so strange to have every part of her mouth covered like that. It felt both dry and slippery at the same time. She could produce no saliva. She couldn’t feel the passage of the air she breathed through her mouth or nose. Nor could she smell or taste anything. Being unable to taste anything for eight months? She moaned weakly. This was so going to suck.
“You are to be completely separated from the world around you
just as you are separated from society. Your suit will have no permanent
openings, aside from those you breathe through, and those have internal filters. The suit will be your entire world for the duration of your sentence, and the Custodian will have complete control over it.”
“Seems a little… little bit of overkill,” Sarah mumbled. She didn’t want
to know any more. Everything she learned just made her more frightened. But she had to understand everything she could if she was to write a story about the experience and the tortures. “If no one will be able to hear me, why am I still able to talk in this thing?”
“Early experiments showed that, when isolated to this degree, humans often fare best, psychologically speaking, when they can hear their own voices from time to time. Talking to yourself helps keep you sane, in other words.”
“At least I’ll have a good conversation partner.”
“That’s good, because we’re disconnecting you from the lab computers
and speakers now. Unless there is an emergency, from this point forward no one will be able to hear your voice.”
“W-wait! Wait, please–”
In the next room was a metal tub filled with the black, latex goo. She
moaned, seeing where this was headed. She could put up a struggle, sure, but where would that get her? Another nasty jolt from her new companion, no doubt. She allowed them to help her step into the tub. The stuff was warm and felt like she was standing knee-deep in Elmer’s glue. They bid her to lie down so that she was completely submerged in the latex. Before she had time to worry about getting air, they were lifting her back out. It brought to Sarah’s mind the image of an old-fashioned, riverside baptism.
She stood, dripping, on a mat, blinded once again while waiting for the
inevitable connection to be made. In a few minutes, the latex began to shrink all around her. It grew thinner, but it also got tighter. Her vision also returned as the sensors were cleared. Before long, she was covered in a glossy black second skin. Everything was sealed inside the latex coating, from the top of her helmet to the soles of her padded feet. She rubbed her hands over her arms and belly.
Given her past interest in latex, it might have been an exciting, new sensation under other circumstances. Under these circumstances, however, she only felt intimidated, frightened, and traumatized.
First, a little about your suits. The Custodians are there to take care of you, as well as monitor you. It’s a learning computer, but it is just a computer, nothing more. It has no emotions and it means you no ill will, though I’m sure there are times it may seem like it.
It is simply acting out its programming. If it gives you an order, I suggest you follow it. The suits are self-repairing and are puncture and heat resistant. Trying to remove them will cause you more harm than it will them, and you will simply get in trouble for a Violation of Banishment.
“Now some basic rules. As outcasts, you are not allowed to enter any
public or private structure. Maintenance stations are the exception. You may not trespass on private property. You may not steal or vandalize public or private property. You may not use telephones or computers. You may not wear clothing, jewelry, or decoration. You may not attempt to communicate with, interact with, or have anything whatsoever to do with citizens. You are not allowed physical contact with other outcasts. You are otherwise free to do what you will and go wherever you choose within the designated city limits.
Sarah looked down at her body and examined her jet black arms and
hands. I did it. It’s done. I’m actually here, she thought.
I’m a Bane. What the hell do I do now? She then looked up to the cheerless, sepia sky. What have I done to myself? Oh, god, what have I done? 