A simple story about a bad day. Part of my new TT's BG story. Sensory Adept, with Amnesia, and lots of pain resistance too. If anyone likes it I can make more. But I was wondering for a critique, and if it's too trite and done a million times, so I can rewrite.

The cramped room is dank, and stinking like moldy plasterboard mixed with the puntent aroma of a urine soaked mattress. How he cursed the day he woke up with his nose so tweaked. The wailing of babies and shouts of the neighborhood the sour lullaby which pervade the night. Sound of the rat and roach roomates scurrying in the dark annoy him constantly.

"God, don't let me wake up." was his last thought before a restless night of fitful sleeping overtook him.

The morning came too quickly for his tastes. The sound of the neighborhood is different during the day, more serene. Like the world had finally gone to sleep.

His bright blue eyes fluttered open in the dismal light filtering into the room. Sweat soaked sheets tossed aside. Wait... something caught his eye. The sheets had a spot of blood on them, well alot more then that. "Shit" he thought, and snapped up to his feet and looked around. Nothing, nothing out of place except the large red stain on the bed.

A state of confustion came over him, thoughts racing a thousand miles an hour. Did he? What happened? Nothing he could think of could explain this. No history of sleep walking, no previous blackouts. As thoughts passed at the speed of light through his mind, he took a deep breath and tasted a foul scent. Thoughts crashed against the flood of his senses and he sniffed again. Oil, sulphur, rubber, blood? A gun. A gun was fired in this very room, very recently.

Randomness came into his mind again, wondering coming up with senario after senario. Nature struck then too, the urge to relieve himself came strong. Staggered steps take him to where he wants to go, the filthy bathroom. Eyes closed, leaning back, and high arching, his aim perfect. Half way through opens his eye just a sliver peers over to the grimy mirror.

At that moment his eyes snap open, his aim thrown off. Pissing everywhere matters little when you see yourself for the first time. A face he dosen't know looked back at him. A ragged edged hole decorates his forehead just above the temple. "What the frag?" he whispered as his finger touched the edge. No pain, and very little blood flow.

He touched his face, where broken bones lay, bruised and torn flesh. Still nothing but the sensation of touch. Again, he stopped and stared at the face looking back. The eyes seem familiar, but nothing else. The question came to mind, and passed his lips to ask his doppleganger. "Who are you?"

Breaking the silence, the phone rang... It was some man named Johnson.

******Fin for now******

That must be a LOT of Pain Resistance.

or maybe just a pain editor.

Switched on in his sleep?

I like the beginning. Sounds cool

who says its a pain editor? Maybe he's a physad who blew all of his points on Pain resistance.

Sensory adept?

A sensory adept, take every enhanced sense power he there was (low-light vision, thermo vision, vision mag, improved taste, touch, smell, sense magic) and spend the rest on pain resistance I imagine.

Did he also get Select Sound filter, Hearing Amp, High/Low Freq, Flare Comp, Microscopic Vision, Ultrasound (don't....), Spatial Recognition, and Enhanced Perception too?

Well as a just starting Adept you only have so many points. So it's mostly spent on Sensory powers and squeezed in enough for some pain resistance. But You have to know that a bullet in the head isn't really that painful. The hole itself would hurt, but your brain itself can't perfeel pain as there are no pain nerves in there. Getting your face mashed up too would be ignored, unless it was a really bad beating. And thanks for the good words from some of ya

Part Dux -- What now?


He reached down to the vidphone and tapped the Audio Only button.
"Yea?" he asked with reserved annoyance at the offending device. The little screen showing some odd icon he gave no real note too.

It was a cartoonish woman's face with a big grin, little red horns and a huge cigar clenched between her teeth.

"It's Johnson... Ah you're up early. You're usually sleeping at this hour." Was said in a mildly surprised tone. He began to talk about some vague rumors he heard, blathering on in an overly friendly manner. Sports, news, weather. Idle chitchat it seemed.

A soft grumble was his only retort. He listened carefully, there was something odd about Mr. Johnson's voice. It was the way he spoke. The voice was on the higher edge of pitch. He couldn't place his finger on it, but it sounded faintly metallic, artificially sweet. The more he listened to this unfamiliar voice speaking to him in a familiar manner made him feel comfortable. Hypnotizing almost.

As they continued to talk, he found himself passively agreeing with a lot of the things Mr. Johnson was saying. Before he realized it he agreed to meet up with him down at some cigar club of his in an hour. To talk 'politics' as it was put.

Almost as soon as the call was ended he was kicking himself. Cursing and ranting, kicking over molded boxes of takeout. His unwelcome roommates scuttled away from the light and dove into the next pile of trash. "Why did I promise? Do I even know how to get there?"

The bathroom mirror, filthy and streaked showed him that unfamiliar face once again. Solid squared jaw, off white teeth with a small gap, smooth skin. Ear length light brown straight hair. Eyebrow puffed up and swollen, cheek stained with his own blood. The pucker of the wound glaringly obvious on his forehead, no way he could hide it for long.

"I'll call you James, until I know better." he told the reflection.

Like lightning the thought popped into his mind. Bathroom. Mirror. Medicine cabinet. Prescriptions with his name on it! In all haste he yanked on the mirror to open the compartment and only succeeded in ripping it off it's cheap UCAS made hinge. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. "Frag you James. Don't you keep any ID?"

A quick cold shower calmed him and gave him time to think. Afterwards he started to wonder what happened, but now there was a more pressing matter. What to wear? Check the obvious. The closet. "Not bad, James. Not bad." Apparently he was into some of the newer fashion. Streamlined bodysuits, new age trendy stuff. "Odd" he thought for a moment. "We know clothes? Vashon, Mortimer. Sleeping Tiger.. Victory. What were you James?"

Some of the traditional black, and what's this in the back... A full body latex and leather suit with a gas mask? "Kinky." he joked and tossed it aside. And as he did, he didn't see where it landed. Ignoring that fashion nightmare for the moment he got dressed up. Silky drawers, charcoal grey slacks, and a styling jacket that felt a bit heavy and stiff in parts.

In his haste as he was already close to being late. Something snagged his shoe and put him off balance. "What now?" he spat vehemently, and checked the ground. Waving his hands around he found it, more along the lines of 'feeling' it. It was latex and leather. He fumbled around for it and gathered it all up. It was like a shimmering clump of air, it had weight and texture, but it was transparent. He took a few minutes but eventually he found a small button and the kinky suit came back into sight.

"Useful." he thought and tossed it back into the closet leaving it for now.

Out, left, down the stairs. Avoid the third step as it squeaks, out the back, down a block and check the garage. The faint scent of motor oil and gasoline tickled his nose as James lead, and he followed. His fingers typed the code: 442391. It all worked out like reflex or instinct. There it was a Harley, high chromed and just oozing with power. "You got style James. You really do." He did the smart thing and checked the saddle bags, a pistol in one, and a knife in the other. He's seen stranger things this morning, so ignored it.

The bike roars to life with a quick and easy start. A wide grin crossed his lips as he revs it up and peels out, heading to his appointment already 10 minutes late.

*****Fin for now*****

As usual if you like it let me know. If not, or any pointers or something you don't like let me know.

As I'm writing this I'm liking the character more and more. Amnesia, with a budding split personality in a way.