Kyngdom Survival Guide
My name is
Chatterbox: KYNGDOM™ RP Board
My name is
My name is 99. Professor said that when I came out of the artificial womb, he almost cried. He also said that when 98 heard the news that I was successful, 98 cried for a completely different reason. That is why 98 wasn't good enough. He was too emotional. Perfection means no emotion.
That is why when I was born they put me under several tests to see how I responded. I was starved for three days; I sat blankly in the corner. They shocked me; I never cried. They showed me things that were guaranteed to make any infant smile; I sat emotionless.
The tests they ran showed I was 99.99 percent perfect. Thus my name.
The group of scientists that created us have no title. When they have to they refer to themselves as the Circle, but they work for no one. There is talk of revealing to Catastrophe what they are doing in order to see what he is willing to pay for an army of perfect generals and military leaders.
Because that is what they are trying to do. Create an army of the best strategists and fighters. I am the latest and most likely the last attempt. When I get to the right age they will clone me and create an army.
I don't say this because this is what I want to believe, I say it because it is true. People cannot go further with the human body. Otherwise they would make machines. And I am not a machine. Machines follow orders blindly and can't match the innovative skills of humans. I can assess situations, find weaknesses, plan, go past orders if neccesary, memorize, and think my way out of any puzzle. But like a machine I don't feel anything. Or hardly anything. My pain tolerance is extremely high due to constant injuries that they inflict on me to make me stronger. Also, they genetically modified my brain so that it refuses most pain signals sent to it by nerves. I don't have any emotions, because emotions make people vulnerable and rash.
I am the perfect weapon.
submitted by 99
(July 29, 2017 - 8:38 pm)
(July 29, 2017 - 8:38 pm)
Would you mind if I started discussing this sort of idea? The idea that no emotion is best. I love talking about this sort of thing. If you'd rather just RP in peace, I get that and I won't.
(July 29, 2017 - 9:15 pm)
Top!
(July 30, 2017 - 8:25 pm)
are you with the animals or against the animals?
Oh and TOP
(July 30, 2017 - 9:13 pm)
@Trixie-I guess you can do whatever you want. I would rather that you made a seperate thread.
@Sunset-I do not have any standing on the animals. I know about them, but the fate of Kyngdom does not concern me. I do what Professors tell me to do.
(July 31, 2017 - 7:43 am)
Thank you! I'll do it on DtE at some point.
(July 31, 2017 - 9:47 am)
The sound of loud beeping wakes me up. I sit up in my sleeping cubicle, turn the alarm off, and get out of my bed. It is four hundred hours, the same time I wake up every day.
The white walls around me are completely devoid of any decoration. The blue LED lights that line the walls iluminate a small, sleek dresser and my sleeping cubicle. Other than that, the room is empty.
I open the drawer and take out my clothes. I shed the white sleeping jumpsuit and put on my grey day one. It is well fitting and allows me to move around freely.
After getting dressed I run a comb through my hair and quickly braid it. Then I splash some of the cleaning fluid on my face and wash my mouth with sanitizing liquid.
This is the routine I have gone through every day of my life.
The door beeps and slides open to reveal Professor A. He smiles, but I don't smile back. Why would I?
He beckons me towards him and I follow him down the white hallway.
"Good morning 99," he says.
I nod. "Good morning," I say tonelessly.
"After Meal you will start with Conditioning at five hundred hours. After that you will go to the lab for some testing, then report back to meals at twelve hundred hours. Then you will go to Battle and Tactics, then Training at sixteen hundred hours. After Training you will refresh and proceed to Testing, where you will stay until Meal. Then report back to your room."
I nod, memorizing the schedule as Professor says it. I see that he is limping slightly on his left leg, and after a few seconds determine he has a minor sprain in his ankle, a result of a small twist. His right shirtsleeve is an inch and a half shorter than his left.
We reach the Meal room and he stops. I continue on through the door and say over my shoulder, "Your sleeves aren't even."
(July 31, 2017 - 10:42 am)
~technically~ it would be 0400 hours, unless you woke up at 4:00 in the evening and called it a good morning. I should know, I've worked with armies and spies all my life. We used military time. But I'm sure you don't care. Oh well, just letting you know.
(August 13, 2017 - 7:01 am)
@A Certain Cat- No. It wouldn't be, because 4:00 in the evening is, in military time, 1600 hours. I know because I'm a sailor IRL and we have to learn military time.
(August 13, 2017 - 1:42 pm)
Um...I'm not talking about the evening. I'm talking about the morning.
And I do know what military time in IRL is too actually. We use it, and even my phone is set to it.
(August 13, 2017 - 7:58 pm)
I know you're not talking about the evening! It's the pronunciation I'm talking about. Four o'clock AM would be said four hundred hours, and in the evening it would be said sixteen hundred hours. When you write it out, sure, 4 AM looks like 0400 hours, but the context was in dialogue.
(August 14, 2017 - 6:04 am)
Oh. Wait. Yeah, you're right! *facepalms* Sorry. I've been acting pretty stupidly the past week because I was sleep-deprived. Sorry about that whole argument thing.
Admins, can you please delete my above post? Thanks!
OK, done.
Admin
(August 14, 2017 - 5:57 pm)
Lol, you deleted my post on accident. It was "@Author of Microchip."
I thought it was Author of Microchip asking me to delete her/his most recent comment. I thought that was the Name in the Name field.
Admin
(August 14, 2017 - 8:38 pm)
They deleted two. XD
(August 15, 2017 - 6:00 am)
Its ok. It was just me explaining why it's said and written as 0400. Thanks for your time Admin. :)
(August 15, 2017 - 12:13 pm)
Meal time. It's the only time that I am in contact with the other numbers. And even then, we never talk.
The mess hall is full of rows of tables. The walls are sleek white, and the ceiling has blue LED strips running down it. Some of the numbers are chatting softly, and the 90's are shooting them dirty looks. The weaker ones always make friends.
We all sit according to number, the 90's in one row, 80's in one, and 70's in another. I realize that the 60's aren't there. They must have already been taken for cloning. Professor's said they could at least make good water boys.
The chatter stops as I walk in. Of course. This is the thing that happens every day.
I walk and get my tray, then sit down at my table. Everyone is in groups except for me, but I don't notice. I only know what friends means because it was one of our vocab words when I was three months old.
I eat my meal in silence. It's soy protein bars, a tasteless subsitute for real food. I don't care about what it tastes like. I am told to eat my meals, and so I do.
98 leaves his table, and walks towards me. He was a few years older than me, with black hair just like the rest of us. I can see the hate that is always on his face when he looks at me. I can't see why on earth he was angry, because I had never been angry in my life.
"Hey," he said.
Respond to others with complete indifference. Read their body language to know what to say. Never loose your cool. Sometimes I thought about how stupid my teachers were. As if I would ever loose my cool. I had no cool to loose.
"Hello," I say back.
I continue eating, and he stands there, staring down at me.
"I saw the Battle Strategy test results," he said, his voice triumphant. "I was higher than you."
I slowly raise my head.
"And you are implying that because of this you are somehow better than me?" I ask.
He nods. "We all know Battle Strategy is the most important."
He smiles. "And you were beaten by me."
For a split second I wonder how he smiles. I had tried it in front of a mirror once to see how it felt, but I had never done it voluntarily or without thinking.
"I'm sorry to say this 98, but you are missing a critical point in your argument. I will always be better than you because I am 99. The sheer act of coming here to tell me that you won shows how you will never be better. You are driven too much my hate, and hate is an emotion. This is why you will never be me. Your feelings make you rash."
I stand up and walk to dump my tray, and then walk out of the room. I chance a glance over my shoulder and see 98 still staring at me with a look of rage.
(August 1, 2017 - 7:48 am)