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tampered2006-09-18 10:39 pm
spintherevolver.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-09-18 10:39 pm
Open Log
When; Nightfall
Rating; TBA
Characters; Alice![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spintherevolver // Open to all (monsters welcomed)
Summary; Curse day: Returned to the lab, Alice's investigation into her origins proves more perilous than first expected.
Log;
Alice wasn’t afraid, But the abandon mad scientist laboratory didn’t exactly exude warm fuzzy feelings; instead, the unease served to hone heightened senses to high alert. No danger detected. No, no need to rush. However, while no immediate threat had been detected, recalling all others had said, alone and unarmed, Alice did not want to leave herself exposed too long.
With a gasping screech the tormented glass rebelled and ruptured, scattering across the floor like fresh powdered snow. The painfully sharp splintering crunch of her sole scrapping the shattered glass told the tank was near. Other than the broken tank, the abandon laboratory was stocked and locked as if its owner had left for the day and not the prolonged time the thin layer of dust suggested.
There was no need to rush. No one had disturbed this tomb in some time. Even still, keen-sensed, she kept one ear turned toward the door.
Hand firmly braced the side; she stepped inside the fractured container. Nothing the sharp precision surgical steel disjointed from abruptness of initial departure still stained red- tinted red with blood- her blood. Her body remembers the injury and a shudder. Inside looking out from that splintered tank from this intimate perspective sent chills up her spine. Probing this sterilized tomb decaying before her eyes, trying rusted cabinets, lockers, a wall of computer screens with their black lifeless eyes impassively monitored every step. No sign, no clue, no answers to the questions she hoped only this place could provide. The search had proven fruitless. "A little help..." she murmured, was that really too much to ask?
Her body backed into the cabinet, a leather bound journal struck the floor. Crouching low, her eyes shifted as if expecting to be ambushed by the cruel hand of fate. After a moment, no ceiling collapse, no horrible movie monster popping out of closet, she took the book in hand and began to read.
____________________________________________________________________________
July 31,
The first time I visited that place, it was the summer of my 18th year. That makes it about 20 years ago. As I got off the helicopter, I remember the sight of the swirling wind that the helicopter blades whipped into the air. When viewed from above the old mansion seemed quite normal, but when seen from the ground there was something foreboding and unapproachable about it. Burkin (my junior by 2 years) seemed, as usual, to only be concerned with the document he was holding.
We were assigned to the mansion 2 days earlier, on the day that the "executive training center," we had belonged to, was closed. It all seemed like it was planned and too much of a coincidence. But probably the only person who knew the real truth was Spencer.
____________________________________________________________________________
She paused at that name- there was something about that name- but the momentary inflection served to spur her eyes to read faster:
____________________________________________________________________________
Spencer was one of the main guys in charge of America's "T-Virus" research at the Arklay Research Facility.
As soon as we got off the helicopter the head of the facility was standing in front of the elevator ready to greet us.
I can't even remember the guy's name. Who really cares about formalities and figureheads like him; from that day on, the Arklay Research Center was ours. As Chief Researchers, we were put completely in charge of all aspects of the facility. Of course that is just how Spencer had planned it all out. He chose us. We ignored the facility head and got on the elevator. I had already memorized the building layout the day before, and Burkin, although he has no bad intentions, never really pays much attention to other people.
Most people probably get pretty irked from the first 5 seconds that they meet us.
However, the facility head had no reaction at all.
Back then I was a young-buck completely full of himself, so I didn't really pay the facility head any mind. But in the end, I was really only Spencer's puppet, and the facility head, whose boss was Spencer, at least actually knew what Spencer was up to, and what he was thinking.
The whole time we were riding in the elevator, Burkin never took his eye off of the documents he was holding. The document that Burkin was scrutinizing so closely was a report about a new virus that has shown up in Africa. It was called "Ebola".
At this moment there were many people, all throughout the world, who were studying the Ebola Virus. However, I think there are two major reasons why they were studying it. To help people and... to kill them.
As you probably know, the death rate of someone affected by Ebola is 90 percent. In 10 days it quickly destroys a person's organs. Even now, there are no known ways to prevent it or cure it. It could, quite possibly, destroy a large part of the human race.
Of course even before this, due to the "Biological Weapons Prohibition Pact", it was illegal for us to study the virus as a weapon. However, even if we weren't the ones to research it, there was no proof that someone else wouldn't be doing that same thing and so it was considered legal for us to research it--just in case. There is a thin line in "international law" between what is acceptable and what is prohibited.
And so, it became necessary to research how the virus study information would be used as a method of prevention, not as a weapon. There really is no difference in the way in which you research a virus as a cure, from how you research it as a weapon.
But since the two are very similar, it is possible to pretend you are researching a cure, while in fact, be researching the
virus as a weapon.
Even though, at that time, for whatever reason, Burkin may have been looking at the Ebola report, he wasn't really researching the Ebola virus. The Ebola Virus had too many "weak spots."
First of all, the virus could only survive for a few days if not inside a human body. It would soon "die" if under sunlight (ultra-violet light) for too long.
Secondly, since it kills the host too quickly there isn't enough time to transfer/infect other hosts.
Finally, the virus is only transferable through direct touch and so it can be easily prevented.
Try to imagine the following: If a person who was heavily infected (the disease had spread all throughout their body) could actually stand and walk around? And, without knowing it, was in direct contact with other people, of their own accord...
What if the RNA of the Ebola Virus could actually alter a person's genetic code? And if, through that, a person was able to carry the virus without dying? What if this person had the resilience of a monster?
That is, wouldn't this person be a "living dead" whose body carried the virus? Something that could infect others, sort of like a "living biological weapon".
I guess we are lucky that the Ebola Virus doesn't have the potential to do such things.
I wonder if we will be successful in holding on to such a virus without it getting into the wrong person's hands?
The Arklay Lab headed up by Spencer was built for that purpose, it seemed. To create a disease capable of the characteristics I listed before. Officially it was just a pharmaceutical company researching cures to viruses, but the truth is, it was really a factory for manufacturing biological weapons-
____________________________________________________________________________
She lowered the old dog-ear sepia page glancing around the hushed laboratory.
What the hell had happened here?
The sharp crunch of glass and metal drew spun her attention downwards. Pulled her boot back- a needle? With plunger half pressed, glass veil remnants were all but dehydrated, crackled into fragmented chips, which ominously peppered across the tile.
She lower the old dog-ear sepia pages, glanced around the laboratory, in a hush tone asked, "What the hell happened here?"
Then on the cusp of her vision, something moved around the corner. "Stop-!" Alice started off after it. Cutting corners, zigzagging through corridors, rooms blurred in a flash of sterilize surgical steel, glass, and concrete, deeper and deeper into the man-made maze she dove. Heart rate and breathing increased, digestion stopped, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Go back, her mind urged, but with every synapse of her body screamed propelling her muscles to go faster, go forward, the brain’s beseechment was overridden. Vision tunneled, fixed solely upon the shadow always tauntingly at the perception’s edge, before slipped down another winding path.
Only when she reached the shuddering door, Alice realized exactly how far off the garden path she'd strayed. One way looked as menacing as the rest. Glancing through the glass portal, she didn’t sense anyone. No movement, no sound other- just the unsettling silence of nothing and the thundering heart beating its cage in frustration.
But She'd been riding up the back of someone’s heels, hadn’t she? She had been right behind it...
Rating; TBA
Characters; Alice
spintherevolver // Open to all (monsters welcomed)Summary; Curse day: Returned to the lab, Alice's investigation into her origins proves more perilous than first expected.
Log;
Alice wasn’t afraid, But the abandon mad scientist laboratory didn’t exactly exude warm fuzzy feelings; instead, the unease served to hone heightened senses to high alert. No danger detected. No, no need to rush. However, while no immediate threat had been detected, recalling all others had said, alone and unarmed, Alice did not want to leave herself exposed too long.
With a gasping screech the tormented glass rebelled and ruptured, scattering across the floor like fresh powdered snow. The painfully sharp splintering crunch of her sole scrapping the shattered glass told the tank was near. Other than the broken tank, the abandon laboratory was stocked and locked as if its owner had left for the day and not the prolonged time the thin layer of dust suggested.
There was no need to rush. No one had disturbed this tomb in some time. Even still, keen-sensed, she kept one ear turned toward the door.
Hand firmly braced the side; she stepped inside the fractured container. Nothing the sharp precision surgical steel disjointed from abruptness of initial departure still stained red- tinted red with blood- her blood. Her body remembers the injury and a shudder. Inside looking out from that splintered tank from this intimate perspective sent chills up her spine. Probing this sterilized tomb decaying before her eyes, trying rusted cabinets, lockers, a wall of computer screens with their black lifeless eyes impassively monitored every step. No sign, no clue, no answers to the questions she hoped only this place could provide. The search had proven fruitless. "A little help..." she murmured, was that really too much to ask?
Her body backed into the cabinet, a leather bound journal struck the floor. Crouching low, her eyes shifted as if expecting to be ambushed by the cruel hand of fate. After a moment, no ceiling collapse, no horrible movie monster popping out of closet, she took the book in hand and began to read.
July 31,
The first time I visited that place, it was the summer of my 18th year. That makes it about 20 years ago. As I got off the helicopter, I remember the sight of the swirling wind that the helicopter blades whipped into the air. When viewed from above the old mansion seemed quite normal, but when seen from the ground there was something foreboding and unapproachable about it. Burkin (my junior by 2 years) seemed, as usual, to only be concerned with the document he was holding.
We were assigned to the mansion 2 days earlier, on the day that the "executive training center," we had belonged to, was closed. It all seemed like it was planned and too much of a coincidence. But probably the only person who knew the real truth was Spencer.
She paused at that name- there was something about that name- but the momentary inflection served to spur her eyes to read faster:
Spencer was one of the main guys in charge of America's "T-Virus" research at the Arklay Research Facility.
As soon as we got off the helicopter the head of the facility was standing in front of the elevator ready to greet us.
I can't even remember the guy's name. Who really cares about formalities and figureheads like him; from that day on, the Arklay Research Center was ours. As Chief Researchers, we were put completely in charge of all aspects of the facility. Of course that is just how Spencer had planned it all out. He chose us. We ignored the facility head and got on the elevator. I had already memorized the building layout the day before, and Burkin, although he has no bad intentions, never really pays much attention to other people.
Most people probably get pretty irked from the first 5 seconds that they meet us.
However, the facility head had no reaction at all.
Back then I was a young-buck completely full of himself, so I didn't really pay the facility head any mind. But in the end, I was really only Spencer's puppet, and the facility head, whose boss was Spencer, at least actually knew what Spencer was up to, and what he was thinking.
The whole time we were riding in the elevator, Burkin never took his eye off of the documents he was holding. The document that Burkin was scrutinizing so closely was a report about a new virus that has shown up in Africa. It was called "Ebola".
At this moment there were many people, all throughout the world, who were studying the Ebola Virus. However, I think there are two major reasons why they were studying it. To help people and... to kill them.
As you probably know, the death rate of someone affected by Ebola is 90 percent. In 10 days it quickly destroys a person's organs. Even now, there are no known ways to prevent it or cure it. It could, quite possibly, destroy a large part of the human race.
Of course even before this, due to the "Biological Weapons Prohibition Pact", it was illegal for us to study the virus as a weapon. However, even if we weren't the ones to research it, there was no proof that someone else wouldn't be doing that same thing and so it was considered legal for us to research it--just in case. There is a thin line in "international law" between what is acceptable and what is prohibited.
And so, it became necessary to research how the virus study information would be used as a method of prevention, not as a weapon. There really is no difference in the way in which you research a virus as a cure, from how you research it as a weapon.
But since the two are very similar, it is possible to pretend you are researching a cure, while in fact, be researching the
virus as a weapon.
Even though, at that time, for whatever reason, Burkin may have been looking at the Ebola report, he wasn't really researching the Ebola virus. The Ebola Virus had too many "weak spots."
First of all, the virus could only survive for a few days if not inside a human body. It would soon "die" if under sunlight (ultra-violet light) for too long.
Secondly, since it kills the host too quickly there isn't enough time to transfer/infect other hosts.
Finally, the virus is only transferable through direct touch and so it can be easily prevented.
Try to imagine the following: If a person who was heavily infected (the disease had spread all throughout their body) could actually stand and walk around? And, without knowing it, was in direct contact with other people, of their own accord...
What if the RNA of the Ebola Virus could actually alter a person's genetic code? And if, through that, a person was able to carry the virus without dying? What if this person had the resilience of a monster?
That is, wouldn't this person be a "living dead" whose body carried the virus? Something that could infect others, sort of like a "living biological weapon".
I guess we are lucky that the Ebola Virus doesn't have the potential to do such things.
I wonder if we will be successful in holding on to such a virus without it getting into the wrong person's hands?
The Arklay Lab headed up by Spencer was built for that purpose, it seemed. To create a disease capable of the characteristics I listed before. Officially it was just a pharmaceutical company researching cures to viruses, but the truth is, it was really a factory for manufacturing biological weapons-
She lowered the old dog-ear sepia page glancing around the hushed laboratory.
What the hell had happened here?
The sharp crunch of glass and metal drew spun her attention downwards. Pulled her boot back- a needle? With plunger half pressed, glass veil remnants were all but dehydrated, crackled into fragmented chips, which ominously peppered across the tile.
She lower the old dog-ear sepia pages, glanced around the laboratory, in a hush tone asked, "What the hell happened here?"
Then on the cusp of her vision, something moved around the corner. "Stop-!" Alice started off after it. Cutting corners, zigzagging through corridors, rooms blurred in a flash of sterilize surgical steel, glass, and concrete, deeper and deeper into the man-made maze she dove. Heart rate and breathing increased, digestion stopped, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Go back, her mind urged, but with every synapse of her body screamed propelling her muscles to go faster, go forward, the brain’s beseechment was overridden. Vision tunneled, fixed solely upon the shadow always tauntingly at the perception’s edge, before slipped down another winding path.
Only when she reached the shuddering door, Alice realized exactly how far off the garden path she'd strayed. One way looked as menacing as the rest. Glancing through the glass portal, she didn’t sense anyone. No movement, no sound other- just the unsettling silence of nothing and the thundering heart beating its cage in frustration.
But She'd been riding up the back of someone’s heels, hadn’t she? She had been right behind it...