Hi All,
Please check out my other IC to get to know me. If that works out, read on.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/179990-loo…The characters I'd like to see filled for this plot would be the two rival leaders. One is a very fucked up individual, the other I don't have a lot already in mind for, besides their rivalry with their neighboring territory.
I want to continue writing Metis and Lot. The story will follow their two arcs, Metis being a story of self discovery and becoming a 'person' -- She is going to attempt to rescue Lot.
Lot's story is more likely to be a bit twisted and a sort of... Will she be a 'good guy' or 'a bad guy' in the end? Not totally clear about her arc. Lot's plot will have a lot more strange interpersonal relationships, strained power dynamics, blurred lines between loyalty, what is right and what is wrong and so on.
Here is the prompt/start of this story which I've written up.
The perfection of cloning happened many years ago. Easily three decades on, if not more. Of course the knowledge of cloning is still not widespread, and with good reason. The governments that accomplished full cloning quickly realized the potential it had. Not as a marketable, money making machine, but rather one of secrecy and power.
They started making clones first of government officials, using them in high threat situations. It didn’t matter after all if a clone was assassinated. Public events, areas of low tactical support, meetings with hostile forces… Clones attended those with communications devices implanted in their heads. The real official would see and hear and respond, but the clone would drink and smile and speak. And it was often the clone that died. Shot, poisoned, infected.
Not long after the success of the ‘protection’ program for the clones, did the people in secret agencies get their hands on the technology. If a clone government official was ideal for highly dangerous situations, then a clone was also the perfect cover for spies, assassins and other ‘invisible’ people. The clone would go on, living a public life, while the ‘agent’ went on with their under cover, secret, espionage lives.
Many would say that this scenario would be preferable for the clone, and in a way they would have a point. Those boring, menial lives they carried out in public were certainly less likely to lead the clone to a brutal, painful death. But these identities were not without draw backs. The clones could never be noticeable. Their lives were dictated by the agencies that controlled them, and if the real spy were to perish or retire…
Well the need for the clone was no longer there.
Another draw back, as it turned out, was on the few occasions competitive nations or states found the clone, thinking it was the original… Well their agencies didn’t have to worry about the clones divulging coveted information. The Clones didn’t know anything useful or important. This meant the clones, no matter how they were tortured or interrogated would have nothing to say to stop it all.
It was perfect.
Except for the Clones.
But who cares about clones? They are a shadow of the real person, the original person after all. Made to keep real people safe and un-compromised.
Metis had met her Original several times. It was important, Lot had said, that she know the right mannerisms and speech patterns. After all, even if Metis was Lot’s Clone, that didn’t mean they would automatically share the same habits or movements. It had made sense to Metis, even if many didn’t bother to meet their Clones more than once or twice.
Metis had met Lot at least ten times. It seemed almost as if Lot had kinship feelings for Metis, which was unheard of. An Original caring about their Clone?
But then, Lot was different in many ways. She had no ties to the real world, as any good ‘agent’ would, and would appear at Metis’s door randomly. She’d smile and ask Metis if she missed Lot, which was a strange thing to ask. To miss oneself? But Metis would hide Lot, since two of them couldn’t be seen together, and they’d enjoy a few days together before Lot would simply disappear. Sometimes for weeks or months, twice for years.
No matter no long Lot was gone though, she’d show back up, smirking and making her confusing queries. As the years passed, Metis learned to enjoy those visits, as unsanctioned as they were.
It wasn’t until Lot’s most recent unannounced visit that Metis grew to wonder, what it was, precisely, that Lot did for their Empire. Well…Lot’s Empire. Metis didn’t have an Empire to hold allegiance to…She was just a Clone after all.
She had never bothered to wonder what Lot’s role was, knowing that knowing anything would be dangerous to them both. But this time, when Lot arrived, pale and withdrawn, Metis ventured to ask. “Is it so bad…What you do?”
Lot’s eyes had widened at that question, her mouth twitching into a painful smile. Her return question had Metis baffled. “Have you ever loved someone, and hated them at the same time? Had feelings for them even though you know they are truly a bad person?” Metis shook her head mutely. She hadn’t loved anyone, ever, good or bad. She hadn’t been told to. It wasn’t commanded so Metis didn’t do it. The life of a Clone was simple in that way.
Lot had watched Metis sadly and then sighed.
“There are two Sovereignties, far far from here.”
Metis was holding her breath at these words, these forbidden words. Lot wasn’t allowed to share information with Metis.
“It is my job to know what they know, and report back to our officials. Currently they focus only on each other, forever at odds… Their leaders were blood relatives, once, long ago, but now they despite each other and squabble over every inch of territory they can.”
Metis couldn’t help but glance at the windows, expecting some agent of their land to be peering in, spying on the Original and her Clone. No one was there. Despite herself, Metis leaned closer, listening intently. To know what Lot knew… It was a gift.
“One of their leaders is a bad bad person. Truly. Cruel, cunning, conniving… A spider in a web.” Lot, despite saying frightening things, seemed barely interested in these facts. “I had to get close to them…” As part of her job as an Agent. As an Original. She let out a shaky breath and shook her head. “It sickens me, but they …cherish me. Hunt me down. They want me.” And Metis could tell from Lot’s expression, that while her loyalty was firm, her will was slowly being dwindled away.
“And the other Sovereignty?” Metis found herself asking.
Lot shook her head. “Because their rival finds me so valuable, they too want me permanently on their court.”
Metis exhaled. This seemed like a truly dangerous place to be in. Surely Lot should report it to their officials and have her relocated to a different task? It seemed Lot could read these thoughts in Metis’s gaze because she shook her head again.
“I can handle my job.” She said, despite the fatigue coloring her eyes and making her skin wane. Her job was eating away at her. “A few more trips and I’ll have all the information I need, and then I can leave forever.” Relief. Relief and hope made her waxen skin brighten some. Hope that this would soon all be over.
Metis nodded, hopeful as well for her Original. It would all be over soon.
Metis ate dinner and said goodnight to Lot, who sat up at the dining table, reading her reports. She’d stay that way for half the night if she followed her usual pattern. Lot barely looked up from her paper work as she bade her Clone goodnight, riffling through stacks of information.
Metis climbed into her bed, and fell right asleep. After all, she had no reason not to. Clone’s don’t dream, so Metis was simply in a dark void when a crash awoke her. Something had been pushed over downstairs.
Silently she moved to her door, listening, her pulse racing. Had Lot knocked something over on her way to bed? That seemed odd, given that Lot knew the house well and wasn’t a clumsy woman. The Clone listened closely to the crack in her bedroom door, and held her breath as she heard feet scuffling along the wooden floors, and hushed voices in the hall.
“Transport is ready, report we have the package and are en route.”
That was a gruff, unfamiliar voice, whispering into a communication device. Metis knew this because of the slightly static like sound reverberating up the hall from transmission. What was a stranger doing in her home?! And where was Lot? Was she the ‘package’ ?
Terror gripped Metis as she listened at the doorway, unable to act, unable to do anything at all as the feet marched down her hall and out the back door. Grunts of effort by several individuals. They were hauling something big. No doubt Lot. Metis tried to think of something to do. Anything. Should she call for help? Attack the infiltrators? Hide?
Before she could come up with a plan, the door was being closed and the sound of a transport firing to life jolted Metis into action.
She yanked open her bedroom door and hurtled down the stairs, only to see through her window a sleek transport pulling away from her dwelling. She fumbled with the handle and the locks, and by the time she had the door open, it was gone.
Panting with fear, Metis turned back to her house, searching for Lot. Hoping that Lot was still there.
All she found was the over turned chair Lot had been occupying, and her stacks of notes and reports, scattered over the table.
She was gone. Her Original was Gone. And if she was gone… What would become of Metis?
The Savant
Atalanta