The room shook. Alec woke with a start, half leaping out of bed, sub-machine gun in his real hand faster than he could think to grab it. He looked around his small apartment. Nothing was out of place, nor was anything signaling it had just been through an earthquake. Across from the bed, beyond the computer desk which was littered with things that should have fallen to the ground with the quake, Cristofor lay sprawled on the couch, in his usual odd sleeping pose. He snored. Alec's widened eyes relaxed a little.
The room shook again. Alec was knocked down. The ceiling above him threatened to collapse on his head. Alec threw his arm above him for protection and looked over at Cristofor again. The desk still was unmoved. Alec blinked, then clambered to his feet and walked over to his bedside table where his cell phone was sitting, peacefully. He dialed a number.
"Operator," a woman's soft voice spoke almost calmly. Alec picked up on the hint of anxiety and immediately asked, "What's wrong, Fidget?"
"Alec!" The voice blurted. "Thank God! You've got to get back out here, now! We're under attack!"
Alec insisted he would jack out immediately, and snapped the phone closed. He rushed over to Cristofor, woke him, and informed him of what was going on before he dashed into the closet/bathroom, where a wall-mounted phone sat snugly between his coat and an extra pair of slacks. As he approached it, the phone began to vibrate noiselessly. He snatched the receiver off its hook and held it up to his ear.
The world shook once last time, then everything around him began to melt. The walls sagged as if they were made of paper and soaked with water. The ground began to boil, and a single flame licked around his feet. The fire spread rapidly, and entered his ears, covered his eyes, filed into his lungs until he couldn't breathe. Everything burned.
Then there was nothing.
Alec's appearance is vastly different from that within the Matrix. His muscle mass is much lower, from lack of exercise. His eyes and hair are both grey - a direct result of intensive torture by both Merovingian and E Pluribus Neo officers hoping to keep his lips shut or peel them open, respectively. At one point during his adventures within the Matrix, he lost his left arm, and never bothered to jack out to heal, meaning he lost the same arm in the Real, which was subsequently amputated to relieve pain. The only true similarity left between his two identities was his grin.
Alec felt a sucking at the back of his neck, and suddenly he could find he could move more freely. He slowly opened his eyes with a grin. A blurry shadow leaned over him, and slowly focused into the features of a young Hispanic woman. She was frowning, and screaming something. Alec refocused his thoughts.
"... everywhere! We have to go!" She tugged at his sole arm, and he lurched out of his seat.
And fell to the floor.
"*CENSORED* it, Alec, this is why you have to jack out every once in a while to keep your muscles strong!" He felt himself being hauled to his feet, and laughed.
"Calm down, Fidge, I -"
"This isn't time to calm down," she cut him off sharply. "Weren't you paying attention?"
"Sorry, luv," Alec murmered, dropping his Russian accent playfully. "What am I supposed to be scared of?"
"Sentinels," was the reply that forced Alec to drop his grin. He stopped Fidget and tested his own walking strength. After making sure he could manage at least a heavy limp, he waved Fidget away and made his way to the Communications room, wary of the blaring alarm and shouting crewmen off in the distance.
The room shook again. Alec was knocked down. The ceiling above him threatened to collapse on his head. Alec threw his arm above him for protection and looked over at Cristofor again. The desk still was unmoved. Alec blinked, then clambered to his feet and walked over to his bedside table where his cell phone was sitting, peacefully. He dialed a number.
"Operator," a woman's soft voice spoke almost calmly. Alec picked up on the hint of anxiety and immediately asked, "What's wrong, Fidget?"
"Alec!" The voice blurted. "Thank God! You've got to get back out here, now! We're under attack!"
Alec insisted he would jack out immediately, and snapped the phone closed. He rushed over to Cristofor, woke him, and informed him of what was going on before he dashed into the closet/bathroom, where a wall-mounted phone sat snugly between his coat and an extra pair of slacks. As he approached it, the phone began to vibrate noiselessly. He snatched the receiver off its hook and held it up to his ear.
The world shook once last time, then everything around him began to melt. The walls sagged as if they were made of paper and soaked with water. The ground began to boil, and a single flame licked around his feet. The fire spread rapidly, and entered his ears, covered his eyes, filed into his lungs until he couldn't breathe. Everything burned.
Then there was nothing.
Alec's appearance is vastly different from that within the Matrix. His muscle mass is much lower, from lack of exercise. His eyes and hair are both grey - a direct result of intensive torture by both Merovingian and E Pluribus Neo officers hoping to keep his lips shut or peel them open, respectively. At one point during his adventures within the Matrix, he lost his left arm, and never bothered to jack out to heal, meaning he lost the same arm in the Real, which was subsequently amputated to relieve pain. The only true similarity left between his two identities was his grin.
Alec felt a sucking at the back of his neck, and suddenly he could find he could move more freely. He slowly opened his eyes with a grin. A blurry shadow leaned over him, and slowly focused into the features of a young Hispanic woman. She was frowning, and screaming something. Alec refocused his thoughts.
"... everywhere! We have to go!" She tugged at his sole arm, and he lurched out of his seat.
And fell to the floor.
"*CENSORED* it, Alec, this is why you have to jack out every once in a while to keep your muscles strong!" He felt himself being hauled to his feet, and laughed.
"Calm down, Fidge, I -"
"This isn't time to calm down," she cut him off sharply. "Weren't you paying attention?"
"Sorry, luv," Alec murmered, dropping his Russian accent playfully. "What am I supposed to be scared of?"
"Sentinels," was the reply that forced Alec to drop his grin. He stopped Fidget and tested his own walking strength. After making sure he could manage at least a heavy limp, he waved Fidget away and made his way to the Communications room, wary of the blaring alarm and shouting crewmen off in the distance.
