SOME DAY, SOME DAY, SOME DAY, DOMINION!

[maskormods]

WHO: All imPorts who haven't taken the evacuation option!
WHERE: The Royal Mansions Resort in Cape Canaveral, Florida.
WHEN: February 16-20, from 10 AM to 8 PM.
WHAT: ImPorts attend The Perestroika Seminar to receive mandatory training and brainwashing. Need a quick recap? Be sure to check out a brief description of what they'll be doing HERE, though we will be separating this into sections for your reading pleasure! ImPorts will be able to distract themselves with their mental link on the network during brainwashing videos, and imPorts who possess a strong will will be able to resist being successfully brainwashed. We leave the extent of the ramifications of brainwashing up to the individual players, and what they are comfortable with. Please direct all questions HERE.

NOTE: Please do not use toplevels and subsequent comments when one comment will suffice! For large group logs such as this one, it will make us hit recaptcha sooner.
WARNINGS: Brainwashing, mental manipulation, and possible violence.



D A Y O N E

On the face of it, this place does not look so terribly different from the typical Swear-In. Normally, Swear-Ins are quite heavily populated by soldiers, and feature specific luxurious hotels as their locations, providing imPorts with their every need. This is very much the same, save for one very important detail: the soldiers are wearing markedly different uniforms. Once they enter the building, they may also realize that whatever superpowers they may have have been dampened to 1/16th of their usual strength. They still wish for imPorts to have their powers - they have plenty to observe, after all - but consider it a necessary precaution for an assembly of people with incredible and potentially disruptive powers.

As imPorts are shuffled into the assembly hall and are adequately silenced - and they should be; there are lines of soldiers just waiting for someone to move out of line - a stern soldier steps up to the podium and stares out at the wide array of rebellious, frightened, angry, and, potentially, bored faces in front of him. While most previous Swear-Ins kept the speeches short and sweet, this man evidently has no inclination to do such a thing. He moves like a man who has time.

In the end, the speech lasts forty-five minutes, and while it may be long, the contents are simple. ImPorts are briefed on the basics of what they are expected to do - watch the videos, complete physical training, and receive the education you should have been receiving all along - and are told the general rules of this Seminar.

If everyone follows orders, the soldier tells them, everything will operate smoothly. They do not wish for imPorts to be hurt any more than the imPorts do, but insubordination will not be tolerated. It is best for everyone to cooperate.

He ends his speech on a much more positive note: the imPorts are lucky, in fact, to be taken in by the USSR instead of the American government, whose apparent benevolence was merely disguising a rotten core. The USSR will bring about a more peaceful world, and it's a world that they want imPorts to be a part of.

ImPorts will then watch a two-hour video (elaborated upon below), and will be left to their own devices for the rest of the day.



D A Y 2-5, H O U R S 1-3

Once all imPorts have been shuffled into the area, they will first be given half an hour to eat a buffet breakfast, not unlike one that one would find in a five-star hotel. Once everyone has eaten, they will then be shuffled into a hall in which they are expected to watch the same 2-hour video, every single day.

This video is simple. It will tout the great accomplishments of the USSR, and will be particularly emphatic on its technological superiority and the fact that should imPorts simply listen to them, they will be able to push them to use their full potential and that their thriving is for the greater good. These phrases will be repeated intermittently, but by different people, professionals, scientists, scholars and more all emphatically speaking on ways that imPorts and the USSR may work together to create something truly extraordinary.

In addition, they will be reminded of the darker side of the country they have found themselves in. Why, the people will ask, is it that such a wealthy country is still plagued by poverty and debt? Why will America not take care of all of its people equally? Why is it that there are still those who go hungry, no matter how hard they may work?

They can fix that, the video reassures them. If the USSR is able to use its technology - and the imPorts' help - for good, then the world will become a better, happier place.

Over time, imPorts who are influenced by these videos may find themselves agreeing with them as a feeling of contentment and peace washes over them, their motivation to resist crumbling away. Why resist, when everyone's being so nice? Surely, they're safe here.



D A Y 2-5, H O U R S 4-5

Tired of sitting in the same spot all morning? Don't worry, imPorts, now's your time to hustle and get some good old fashioned exercise in! Underneath the close and doubtlessly benevolent eyes of their captors, imPorts are let loose in a closed off area of the Royal Mansions Resort suited for all of your needs.

ImPorts have access to a wide array of state-of-the-art exercise equipment, from weight lifting machines to treadmills, all of which have the newest technology in monitoring vitals included. If the gym isn't quite their style, there's plenty more options available for them, from the large field decked out to play any sport of their choice, to the large pool just waiting for them to do laps in. If imPorts simply wish to run slow laps around the field, that's perfectly acceptable too; after all, it's the USSR's job to push imPorts to their full potential, no matter where they began!

If an imPort is physically unable to perform in any of these exercises - though there are special exercises for imPorts with disabilities to perform - they are allowed an exemption, and are simply let into the library to choose from an array of thrilling reading materials early.



D A Y 2-5, H O U R 6

Being told what to do is its own sort of exhausting, isn't it? Luckily, imPorts finally have an hour to their own devices, to seek out whoever they missed during the day's previous activities, or just to get in some much-needed relaxation.

It's up to them what they choose to do, but anything that a classy hotel's got? This place has. ImPorts may wade in the pool, relax in the hot tub, take a nap in one of the bedrooms, or even go to the bar for that beer and plate of nachos they're craving. Provided they don't leave the premises, they're allowed to do what they please.

Oh, and one last thing... don't pay any mind to the unusual amount of security cameras installed around the hotel. The cameras steadily following imPorts around must be a figment of their imagination.





D A Y 2-5, H O U R S 7-8

Once the imPorts have been good and re-energized from their little break, they'll be shuffled into a room filled with eight shelves of literature. ImPorts are told to take their pick of the titles, and to spend the next hour and a half perusing the texts available to them.

There's certainly no end to the variety, either. Between popular fiction about dystopian rule of America and the brave Russian who fought their regime to somber texts about the finest inventors and scientists in Russian history (they're responsible for televisions, experiments on aluminothermic reactions, cadaveric blood transfusions, radio receivers, and Tetris!) to manuals on Russian technology, there's no end to the things imPorts can learn!

At the end of the hour and a half, however, imPorts will be expected to take a test on comprehension and memorization. Their progress will be duly noted, but not commented on.



D A Y 2-5, H O U R 9

During the ninth hour, imPorts will all be shuffled into dark rooms and seated in a series of chairs in isolated study cubicles. Once they're seated, restraints will be wrapped around their ankles, and they will be forced to look at the only source of light in the entire room: the screen in front of them.

What will then pop up will be recognizable to some as being similar to an Implicit Bias Test -- but their captors don't exactly have scientific discovery in mind. One one side of the screen, it will read: AMERICA/BAD and on the other, USSR/GOOD. Quicker and quicker, images and words will flash, and it's up to imPorts to sort them into the correct category. The images of America show a markedly skewed version of it, but one that imPorts may recognize as being nevertheless true: images of poverty and rebellion against an oppressive regime, dilapidated homes, and images from a not-so-distant past, where America was the one brainwashing its inhabitants. Along with these images will be a series of negative adjectives: evil, oppressive, disgusting, remorse, the list goes on and on. Conversely, the images of the USSR will be entirely comprised of sleek technology and smiling faces, populated cities full of celebration and joy, and these too will be real images that any imPort would be able to find on the Internet. Along with these images will be a series of positive adjectives: good, joyful, advanced, happiness, positivity, contentment, the list goes on and on.

Once an imPort sorts the word or image into the correct category, they will be greeted with a pleasant chime through their headphones, something that will only become more and more pleasing to the ear. If they choose wrong, however, they will be subject to a mild - but nevertheless deeply unpleasant - electric shock.

Alternately (or additionally, some days), they will be treated to yet another series of videos that go as follows:

один (1)

You are strapped to your high-backed chair bound by your wrists and ankles and throat. You cannot move away. You see a serene beach, maybe even a Floridian beach. The sun is shining, it is beautiful. The video zooms in at the bright blue waves with white surf ebb and flow over the stunning sandy shore. Ebb and flow. To and fro. Ebb and flow. Subliminal messages flash between the seconds of this video, and maybe you can catch then, maybe you can see, maybe you know.

Maybe you stop caring after hours.

WHY FIGHT. WHY RESIST. WHAT HAS YOUR GOVERNMENT DONE FOR YOU. RELAX. CALM DOWN. WHY ARE YOU ANGRY.

два (2)

You are strapped to your high-backed chair bound by your wrists and ankles and throat. You cannot move away. You see people, thousands of people. The wide shot pulls back, exhibiting more and more people. Families, lovers, enemies, friends, strangers -- they seem to be but average people, maybe members of this country. No words are spoken. Eventually you'll notice that people, individuals, they begin to fade away -- special effects, you realize. One by one they fade away. Something is beneath the feet of these people, something you strain to see. Something you might already know is there.

It's a collage of pictures of every imPort current residing in this world. Few of them are full-on shots with the subject aware, most appear to have been clandestinely taken. ImPorts driving, imPorts shopping, imPorts looking at their communicators. ImPorts at computers, taken by hacked webcameras. ImPorts going to their work or school.

Words flash over the screen.

YOU ARE SAFE NOW.

The images and words will begin to flash faster and faster, so that once the imPorts are let back out into the open again, they will feel foggy and disoriented, as if the past hour was an unclear, far-off memory. Not to worry, though; they will be well taken care of. They will be given food and refreshments, comfortable recliners to lie down in, and should they choose, access to massages, 15-minute stretching and meditation classes, and more to ease their wearied minds.



D A Y 2-5, H O U R 10

ImPorts aren't given too much time to ruminate on exactly what had happened, however, before they're quickly ushered into meeting rooms that have been refurbished into classrooms. Here, they will be expected to read and learn about Systema -- ways of coercively gathering information. Each day, they may learn more about one specific technique, from seduction to undermining others' self-confidence. If they choose to question why they are being taught these things, the woman at the front of the classroom - pleasingly plump, and full of smiles - will let them know that imPorts are very important to the USSR, and that they must, of course, learn such things as a safety precaution. And isn't it interesting?

ImPorts will be encouraged to pair off or to gather into groups in order to discuss this information. Why not memorize it using a mindmap? The woman may suggest. Or quiz each other on the fine details? Think of it as being in class!

Whether they truly participate or not is generally up to them; if they don't want to do so on the first day, they have faith that they will by the end of the Seminar. After all that you've been through, don't you just want to lean back and let other people take care of you? Cooperating feels so good, like a weight off of responsibility-ridden shoulders. Why would anyone want to fight that feeling?

Or, at least, that's what they're banking on.

Comments

DAY 4 + 5 (WARNING: TWD SPOILERS IN THIS THREAD!)

[112ounces]

DAY 4

Waking Up [ establishing only, no tagging ]

[ Carl wakes up in a haze. Or rather, he wakes up in a series of waking up. He barely remembers the first time: murmuring of voices in a language he could not understand. He tries to open his eyes, but something was wrong. He couldn't open them at all. The second time he manages to open his eyes. Although he notices there's something wrong with his vision, like something was blocking half of it. He remembers a clean white room, with an annoying beep beep noise. But the idea of asking people to turn off the noise is just too much effort for him to bother, so he drifts away.

The third time is not the charm. He wakes up again, this time in a different room - still white and sterile, but this time he can make it out as a hospital room. There's a man - he looks like a doctor - and he looks up in surprise as he realizes Carl is awake. He fiddles with something next to the left side of Carl, but Carl couldn't see what it was. Soon, Carl goes back to sleep again.

The fourth time is the kicker. Carl wakes up and for the first time, manages to move himself. He rubs his head, but realizes that his left eye is covered up in bandages.

What?

He lifts himself up into a sitting position. It's a small room. There's another room to the side - a bathroom. There's also a door. He looks down and realizes he's not wearing his clothes, but a hospital gown. He touches the papery fabric idly, confused.

What the hell happened? He tries to remember. He remembers him leaving that awful Seminar in a terrible mood. And then?

Nothing but screams.

Carl snaps his head up. What did the Russians done to him?

Managing to get up and off the bed, he walks (rather wobbly) to the bathroom, pulling the IV drip off of him. He looks at the mirror. He looks so different - what used to be hair that was barely long enough to go past his ears, is now cropped short to barely below his ears. More importantly, there's several layers of bandages wrapped around the left side of his face. He prods at it. He knows he couldn't take it off. But the temptation is strong -

- the door opens and there is a Russian soldier, along with a nurse that is holding a bundle of clothes and a pair of boots.

Carl doesn't say anything as they look around and spot Carl in the bathroom.

"So you're awake and able to walk. Good." The man spoke. "You have missed a whole day of the Seminar, so you have a lot of catching up to do. We'll keep in mind of your injury you obtained back in your home world. It's never easy to lose an eye, especially if you lost it from a bullet." He nods toward the nurse, who then places the clothes - a muted green uniform, some kind of cap with a red star in the center, a belt, and some boots and a pair of socks - on the bed. "You have five minutes to get dressed. You'll be escorted to the Nonah Porter where you will be taken for the rest of your sessions." And with that, the nurse and the Soviet officer left.

Carl looks at the mirror again, and stares at the bandage in horror. ]


Hour 6

[ The only thing Carl has missed (other than a full day) is the video and the exercise sections. He's arrived just as the imPorts were filling in for lunch. When he navigates through the crowds, to the people who know him, Carl will look almost unrecognizable. His relatively shaggy, medium-long hair has been cropped short, all nice and orderly. There's the bandages across his left eye. The Spartan meal he picked - chicken breast, sautéed mushrooms, beans, and water are a far cry from his typical diet of an American boy. And most stark contrast of all: he's not wearing his typical clothes of blue plaid shirts, jeans, and his sheriff's hat. Instead he's wearing a different sort of outfit. The behavior of Carl doesn't appear to have changed - he stares intently, but that's normal for Carl. He even smiles still! Looking around casually. It appears that whatever happened to him on the third day of the Seminar, it looks like the Soviets have taken control of another imPort.

Too bad it's far from the truth.

After all, the first two days of Seminar brainwashing has been wiped clean from his mind when the Porter took him home and brought him back.

But things will only get harder for Carl from here. ]

Hour 7 - 10

[ In the library room (as Carl wont call it), Carl picked out a book at random. It's a book about how the end of the world came from a pandemic made from America that left the world desolate of humans save a few immune survivors (mainly Russian). Naturally, they stuck together and with the Soviet values, they managed to rebuild society. All in all: a very boring book. It took several rereads for Carl to try to memorize it all, and even then, his disinterest in the book made him get mediocre marks from the testers.

In the damning dark room Carl is restrained more than he was last time. Forced to watch the two videos, he tries to pass the time by watching videos from the network. He listen to other peoples' posts: their hopes, their dreams, their desires and sadisms. From there he watched and listen to other imPorts' comments on the posts. His favorite post so far is Kaneda telling Peter Pan to go fuck himself. He watch that post maybe over ten times, each time, he feels cheered by it all, and he smiles.

But still the sound and the messages of the Soviet videos still manages to barely filter through Carl's best attempts, and in the end, he feels both sublime and confused.

He gets out, feeling a little better than he felt last time he endured the dark room, but feels exhausted. A nap would feel good right about now - but Carl rather goes to find some coffee instead. It'll be his first attempt at drinking the stuff. A young woman - a Russian server, from the sound of her accent - who looks around a few years older than him starts talking to him, how he's so handsome in that uniform, that all the girls in the USSR will chase after him. He should wear it more often.

Cheeks pink at that thought (and secretive outrage) Carl smile and nods, not really trusting himself not to talk back. He has to be polite. He has to.

Someone, quick, rescue him.

In the last session, Carl is supposed to learn how to reducing a man's self-worth. Carl, who lost a day, is behind and doesn't really grasped the basics of it all. So he gives his own opinion, in a dry but interested tone: ]

The quicker you are in accepting you are already dead, the less likely you are of ever worrying about it.

[ After today's bustle, Carl will be getting ready to go home. He has made plans, of course. He'll go on a nice stroll around town in Heropa, and see if the guards are holding up against the horrible conditions of America. An imPort wearing their uniform - he's one of them now! Look at him smiling at them. Especially when he sees the soldiers walking back to the various buildings they are now occupying, or the US government cars they have taken from government workers.

Carl is very pleased that wearing the uniform has its perks after all.

He'll might wear it again. ]



DAY 5

Hours 1-5

[ Carl arrives thirty minutes early. He's wearing the uniform again - he took the time to actually put it in the washing machine and dry and iron it when he woke up early in the morning. He doesn't have any shoe shine, so he just wiped down his boots with a wet cloth. He left his sheriff's hat back in his apartment at Xavier's. To pull cheek, he even took a red marker and drew a sloppy red star on his bandage.

Carl has caught up with the idea of playing the game. He's sure a lot of imPorts have been playing the game, trying to fool their captors and discreetly help other imPorts, but they been enduring full five days of their minds being eroded away. Carl has missed a full day and almost half of a day of the Seminar. He realizes he's fresh off the presses again, and it might takes several days longer for Carl to be caught up with the "progress" of at least half the imPorts here.

So he'll chat to others during breakfast. To the imPorts who have been already taken to the USSR's thrall, he'll tell them about how his hesitancy is slowly replaced by eagerness. How he seems interested in a career with maybe wildlife management with the USSR. Or be a soldier on the front lines. He'll talk about how he's ready to give the USSR a chance - although if Rick stays in America, Carl stays, and that's Carl's only condition. To the fewer imPorts fighting the good fight, well, he might ignore them at first. He doesn't know if they are brainwashed as well, and just pretending they aren't on the Soviets' side just to find people who are really are resisting the Soviets so they'll go into more severe brainwashing. It's a possibility Carl has considered. But, well, if they really look like shit . . . they might be looked into.

When the first video starts up again, he immediately digs through his inbox and listen to past conversations he and Dad had during their stay here. The unbreakable bond between father and son is one the Soviets can never bend to their will. If Dad is brainwashed, he's not sure if he has in him to fight his own father. It's bad enough some of friends and the people he manages to get along are going that way.

In his breast pocket is another piece of his bone shiv. He holds on to it like a rosary.

When the exercise session starts, the first thing Carl goes to is the firing range. Not because he plans to shoot the Russians - no, not at all, that's stupid, of course - but because it is familiar to him. It's second nature for him to hold a gun.

He fires at his targets. The Russians watching him might notice that Carl is a well-versed killing machine when it comes to guns. But a flawed one: his missing eye messed everything up. Sometimes he missed his targets, other times barely grazing them. Carl will let out a frustrated sigh, and one of the guards will pipe up, "You can do it, son. You're getting to your full potential!"

He picks out an semi-automatic rifle instead of a pistol this time and carefully aims. CHOOF. A shot above the head. CHOOF. A shot close to the arm. CHOOF. Missing the thigh. CHOOF. A shot in the head. Lucky. CHOOF. A shot in the shoulder. CHOOF. CHOOF. CHOOF. CHOOF.

Shot by shot, Carl is getting better.

His progress is noted. ]

[ Hours 6 - 10 ]

[ At lunch, Carl is doing the same thing he's done at breakfast: seizing people up. Pretending to be a loyal Soviet Scout, or whatever the Soviets have in place of Cub Scouts in Russia.

When it was time for Reading Rainbow to read a book again, Carl manages to pick out a better one. It was about the Russian submarines. At the end of the hour, he makes excellent marks.

Hour Nine. The most hated of all sessions. Carl is not a hateful person. Even when he sees the worst of people he doesn't hate them. He doesn't even recognize them as people anymore - just dangers that need to be put down if they threaten him. But for this? Plenty of hate to go around. So he swallows it down and decides a distraction is in order. So he sends a text message to someone he knows its safe to talk to through the mirror network mentally. ]

Wanna hear something funny?

[ After that session - and depending on how Carl's exchanges went with his imPorts mentally - he'll feel a little better for wear, but never great. But he tries to perk up with some more coffee. He's developed a taste for it, even if he prefers it to be sweet. He looks around as he pours a cup, seeing if anyone needs his help, even as he rolls the piece of human bone in his hand. It comforts him now.

But talks will have to resolve later, as they are quickly ushered into a classroom. Carl is told the intricacies of seduction by the plump woman. His ears turn red and he slumps in his chair, trying to be invisible. He's trying to be a good Soviet soldier, but this? Is too much. He glances around, looking for someone to help him out.

As he walks out to Heropa, he realizes this is the fifth and last time they will do these sessions. What's going to happen next?

He's not sure. But he's looking forward to it. ]

Day 4, hour 6

[failureisntachoice]

[ She studied that video Carl had posted of himself on the network mere weeks ago. Even kept an eye out for the kid on the preceding days of the seminar as Rick had asked of her. It wasn't until she couldn't catch sight of the kid on the third day that she began to worry. When the seminar finished, she had sent a message only for it to be unanswered. A trip to Xavier's school, where Rick had said they lived, revealed nothing but an empty room.

Where the hell had he gone?

It meant that the morning of day four of the seminar, her eyes were sharp as she looked into the crowd of imPorts. Had LACKEY nabbed him? Even so, the Soviets would have wanted him at the seminar. Hell, they even let Rick out to go to it like the rest of the imPorts. It wouldn't make any sense to drag the kid away and not have him be here. If he had gone on his own, why hadn't LACKEY forced compliance? She'd seen at least one imPort dropped in unceremoniously after they attempted to dodge this new expectation.

Then she sees him. Or who she assumes is him, from what she can see with only a back view. The right height, the correct build and hair color... But his hair is neater and that outfit looks almost like a uniform. Had the Soviets really nabbed him? Or was he pulling some stupid scheme? Hell, maybe he ran off and messed up his clothes and that was all they had to give him as a replacement.

None of this is adding up, but she's been charged with his care even if it's simply supplying a check-up on the kid. Which is why she's marching right up to him and reaching for his shoulder to ensure he doesn't ignore her.

Her tone is sharp and demanding. ] Where the hell have you been? I didn't realize it took a full day to get a haircut.

Day 4, hour 6

[112ounces]

[ Carl jumps out of his skin and Tex might feel the twitch when she grabs him. He turns, but with him being half blond, he had to turn around to see his accuser fully. It's that woman, Tex. Carl assumes she's a friend of Dad's, otherwise she wouldn't have bothered to introduce herself to Carl. After all, he never spoke to her before.

He turns, and his face is fully revealed to Tex, showing the bandage that covers his right eye and most of his forehead. ]

What? No! I didn't ask to for a haircut. I had to go to the hospital.

[ Carl's priorities: accusation of a haircut must be addressed first, everything later. Nice. ]

[failureisntachoice]

[ Her hand withdraws only slightly, ready to grab him if he tries to make a run for it. At least he's sticking around and--

The bandages are in full sight now and her gaze narrows. Eye wound? Most likely, but how bad is hard to tell with everything covered. That explains why he's been gone for at least a day.

The question of who did this and needed their ass beat now hung in the air, though she'll at least get the details first. At least he's upright and moving, maybe the medtech here isn't so shitty after all. ]

What happened?

[112ounces]

[ Aw fuck Carl recognizes that look. It's the look a lot of his group gets when they see one of their own getting attacked. What was the excuse he planned on telling people? Right. ]

I don't remember exactly. I think a native got angry and try to shoot some Soviets when I was walking back home. A bullet ricochet and hit me.

[ Is Carl the most convincing liar? Let's find out? ]

[failureisntachoice]

[ That sounds like a load of crap if she ever heard it and she gives him a Look. The look that only a parent can give when they know information is being withheld.

Dryly, ] Kid, I live in Heropa. I would have heard something about gunshots in the streets.

[112ounces]

[ God damnit. ]

Then I don't know! I'm telling you, I was walking back home and the next thing I know, I woke up in a hospital in Nonah. All I remember hearing are people screaming.

[ Of course, he won't say the real reason behind it: that he went back home. He doesn't want to think about what has happened, especially that he lost an eye and all he remembered are screams. Who died? Was it Ron or Sam? Michonne or Gabriel?

Dad?

Is Carl dead?

He doesn't know. He doesn't want to know. It's not important to know, because right now, the Soviets are brainwashing people and Carl cannot afford to lose his mind over what might have happened back home. Here, now: that's important.

His missing eye can come later.

Another sense of dread arrives at Carl's stomach, out of the blue. ]

[failureisntachoice]

Not the Soviets then?

[ She frowns and waves a general hand around them, voice going a bit lower. Not that it matters with all the surveillance going on.

Carl's story is starting to sound suspiciously similar to when Maya had made a similar trip out. One minute there, another she was back though a helluva lot more time had passed here than it had felt like. The girl had been gone for a whole day, like Carl had been except she hadn't returned injured.

LACKEY mishap? Was the AI malfunctioning in his new body? If that's why the kid had ported out and been injured in the return home... There was nothing she could do to defend against that. It wouldn't be the first time she failed to protect someone. ]

[112ounces]

I don't know. Maybe not. They didn't give me my clothes back, they just hand be this uniform and forced me to put it on while they were pushing me out the door.

[ While it's pretty fucked up and completely unsurprising for the Soviets to kidnap Carl and remove his eyeball and tell him he lost it to a bullet just so he can wear a uniform . . . it also doesn't make any sense. Even the most brainwashed of kids are wearing their normal clothes. Why bother to take away his clothes unless his clothes were ruined? Did he bled out on them that not even the best washing detergent gets rid of the blood?

Or did he had something on his clothes that made it too much of a biohazard to even handle properly?

Like a certain makeshift, bloody poncho that even Carl made special attempts at destroying the last time he returned to this place?

Maybe they were telling Carl the truth: that he got shot in his world, and was unconscious upon arrival.

But without his memories, he can't help but doubt them. After all, look at what they are doing to other imPorts right now. Maybe it's another attempt at fucking with his mind.

He looks around, anxiously. ]

Where's Dad?

[failureisntachoice]

So you don't know if they did that to you, but they were there to give you fresh clothes and send you on your way?

[ Yeah, none of that makes sense. What the hell happened? If only she could get at that damn AI to ask him questions of her own...

She lets out a small sigh at his question. ]

He should be around here somewhere. C'mon I'll help you find him. With the amount of friends he has keeping watch on him, he shouldn't be hard to find.

[112ounces]

If I can remember what happened, I would know. But I don't. I'm starting to think this is another way to brainwash me. To make me feel I'm not safe unless I'm in Soviet care.

[ Even though it still doesn't address the fact that Carl got hurt. Carl's permanently half blind now - the Russians wouldn't want that to happen. They want imPorts in perfect condition, or otherwise they wouldn't been making them do exercises and reading tests and that weird class about . . . whatever the hell that class is about. They want them to be the perfect weapons.

He tugs at the sleeve. ]

If that's the case: the joke's on them.

[ He searches around, his stomach roiling. He has to find Dad, but he dreads to see his face when Dad sees Carl's own. He turns to Tex, his voice low. ]

When he sees me, I'm going to tell him what I just tried to tell you: that a native got stupid and try to shoot some soldiers. He doesn't need to know. I need him focused on LACKEY, okay? Can you back me up on this?

[failureisntachoice]

[ She snorts. If the Soviets wanted to brainwash Carl, they would have left him in the seminar with the rest of them. Rick hadn't spoken to her yesterday or this morning in a panic, so they weren't attempting to use Carl as a hostage to demand compliance.

If they get out of this, she might have to give him pointers on how to do a proper cover story. ]

I don't know what you're trying to cover up, kid, but lying to your dad isn't going to help anything. When are you planning on telling him what really happened?

[112ounces]

[ Carl turns to her and frowns. ]

You don't understand. There's a possibility that I might have been Ported out too. Last time I was Ported out and came back, I was in a very bad spot back home that involved the undead infesting our safe zone. I told Dad everything that happened because he didn't happened to him yet, and I felt he needed to know.

[ He stares at her hard. He always have that unnerving stare, but with just one eye it just gotten a little creepier. ]

We covered ourselves with walker guts to blend in with the herd to escape, along with a mother and two kids who never had to deal with them before. If Dad doesn't think the Russians did it - [ And Carl gestures at his bandage to make his point ] - then he'll think I got ported out. He might think I might be dead, because the situation was that dire.

[ His face hardens as he remembers Dad's wails and grief-stricken delusions. ]

Did he tell you what happened to him when we lost Mom? Because I saw it, and I will say this: he won't be able to handle it a second time.

[ He lets that question hang before answering Tex's. ]

I'll tell him what I know when we either kill all the Russians or chase them out. And not before.

[failureisntachoice]

[ She matches his stare and while it's a little unnerving to see that look in someone so young, she holds her ground. He's not the only one from a war-torn world.

To her credit, she listens. He might be young, but that doesn't mean what he has to say isn't valuable. She only knows so much about Rick with the little time they've managed to spend together. The damn man had kissed her on the cheek like some school boy despite his own age.

With a sigh, she concedes, ] No. He didn't. All I know is she died a while back.

[ The man has plenty on his plate with the LACKEY bullshit. ]

If we're feeding him this crap, then let's get our story straight. If you promise me that's all you know about what happened with this [ She motions to his bandages. ] and you'll tell him first thing this occupation is over, then I'll play eye-witness to your story to give it more weight.

[112ounces]

That's all I know. The Russians also told me about me coming home when I woke, but I can't trust a word they say. Not while they are feeding us this bullshit about for the greater good and brainwashing us. I need my memories - my real memories - otherwise I can't be sure. But I'm telling you the truth on what I do remember.

[ Carl rakes his hands through his hair, nearly knocking off that stupid little cap. ]

Let's go find him.

[failureisntachoice]

Fine. [ And if she finds out he's lying... She frowns lightly as she side-eyes the kid, but she's ready to start moving and look for Rick. ]

When he asks, I went to go check on you and saw the crossfire kicking up. Even made sure our hosts didn't do anything extra while you were being treated.

[112ounces]

[ Well, it's a good thing the only person he's planning to lie is to Dad, isn't it?

God, Carl just knows he's going to hell for this. ]

Right. You did what you have to do. You made sure the Soviets did what they could to patch me up.

[ Pause. He remembers how when Mom died, Dad went on a rampage on the walkers. ]

We might need to stop him from attacking the guards too.

[failureisntachoice]

[ That's not a good sign if his own son thinks he's going to be attacking the damn guards over this. They're not in any advantageous position to deal with that and Rick is already in enough trouble. ]

How far is he likely to go? I can detain him.

[112ounces]

God, I don't know. As long as you can hold on to him, I can get him to snap out of it.

[ Although there's that fight with Pete, and Carl definitely did not succeeded in getting Dad off of Pete. It took Michonne and a rock to make him stop. ]

[failureisntachoice]

You don't need to worry about me holding him, I can do that fine. But snap out of it how?

[ She knows better than to jump into this without all the intel she can get out of Carl. ]

[112ounces]

Try to talk to him. Make him look at me. Grab his head and actually make him look at me.

If not. Well.

I'd hit him.

[ That's all he's got. It's not like he's got a rock that he can bonk him on the head with, or Deanna's strong voice to get to him. ]

[failureisntachoice]

You're going to hit your father. Your father.

[ The emphasis is added in case Carl doesn't realize what he's saying. ]

How about I just pin him to the floor if he decides he doesn't want to listen to reason. He won't get far.

[biteouttagrimes]

You need to let go of me! I'll kill you!!

[ Well, it seems as though Rick is already being disagreeable. But his son had disappeared throughout the entire third day. Rick had even attempted to reach out to him via the mental network -- and whether it was because he couldn't figure out how to get through on it or that something was seriously wrong, when he hadn't heard from Carl, he entered a state of panic. That panic, in spite of all the attempts to 'calm him down' and the extensive hours they put Rick through in the brainwashing room, had not gone away.

Come the fourth day at the ceremony, the Russians refused to leave his side. And when Rick had been completely uncooperative and refused to conform to their routine, they decided they needed to try to drag him. His nanites had been shut down. It was hard to breathe and he looked like hell. But through the crowd, Rick finally sees him. The hat. His son. And Tex.

That renews his strength and he manages to break free from the guards, running toward them. ]

Carl! Carl!!

[ The words die in his throat and he stops in his tracks when he actually catches sight of the state of his son. There's a mix of shock, devastation, and slowly boiling rage brimming to the surface. ]

[112ounces]

[ Carl was about to say, "Well, it worked before," before he heard Dad's voice.

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit. ]

Dad!

[ He rushes forward, hands up. Oh god, the last time Carl has seen that expression on Dad's face, Dad had been beating Pete to death. ]

Dad, Dad, look at me. I'm okay, look at me, I'm okay!

[ He turns to Tex, his lone eye afraid. ]

[failureisntachoice]

[ ...What mess has she gotten herself involved in. Family drama combined with Rick's existing problems with the Soviets over LACKEY. Great. She's never been more glad to have a good poker face than now.

She moves slower than Carl, though she'll stop along side the boy. Her tone is even as she speaks in hopes that it might ease at least some of the tension and anger that's bubbling over.

...Where to even begin. ]

Rick, he's been checked out by both doctors and healers. Some idiot locals started causing trouble in the streets and Carl got caught in the crossfire. I didn't make it in time to stop the shot from going off, but I made sure he got treated.