Re-Role - Part Three

As darkness consumes my vision I'm left floating for a moment in a complete sense of warmth, the lack of any tactile sensations around me leaving me with only the dull and comforting heat subsuming my whole being.

Sadly, even that delightful comfort ends as the world returns in a vibrant crash of color and sound. The air is knocked from my lungs and my eyes burn with a horrible pain as the sudden shift in light leaves me momentarily blinded and dazzled.

It takes a second before I can even make out the noise around me, my mind rapidly piecing together the various stimuli before focusing in on the least offensive one first. I focus, my mind sluggish from the onslaught of sensation as I finally manage to make sense of the noise bearing down on me.

"Welcome, to Manga-Kon 2012" a voice booms over a nearby speaker "Please keep your badge visible at all times"

Re-Role - Part Two

A low sigh followed by a slight whistle emanates from the other side of the room. Despite the noises the older man was making the machine doesn't seem to die down in the slightest, the scent of ozone only building more intense as it feels as though the building static is frying away the hair on my arms and legs.

"Well Mr. Hughes, it looks like you're in need of a correction..." the man mutters, my heart skipping a beat even with his matter of fact tone. I try to speak only to find my jaw held tightly by the vice-like grip of the headgear.

 

"It looks like your mother and father were meant to have a daughter" the technician states, his deep booming voice lacking much in the way of surprise or emotion. His tone lightens as his foot steps pace deeper in to the room and further away from me, a series of sharp plastic clicks soon following as he fiddles with something beyond my view.

"Over all? Not that drastic a change" he muses, almost relieved by the fact I was meant to be something so similar to my old life. "I had a young woman in here the other day who ended up as her father's older broth..." he begins to explain, as if someone having things worse was meant to make this better.

Re-Role - Part One

"Almost done Mr Hughes..." mutters the deep voice from across the room, the older man hiding just beyond my line of sight as I sit with my head locked in place. Supple rubber grips cling to my temples and forehead, holding my head from turning while a simple chin rest and plate atop my skull keeps me from moving up or down.

My skin prickles and my hair stands on end, the scent of ozone flooding my nostrils as my eyes slowly begin to water. Despite this I try my best to hold still, my breathing short and shallow as I try not to disrupt the scan.

We had failed four times today already, a sneeze from the first rush of the strange chemical smell to a slight wince or sharp breath as the odd energy felt as though it was crackling across my skin. The idea that people did this, day in and day out, seemed nearly impossible.

Despite this, it had become a very necessary diagnostic for many. Less so for medical and more for existential reasons.