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The red brothers

The red brothers are three brothers who where released from the matrix in quick succession. The first hereafter referred to as “maishou” was the oldest, and also first released. He began questioning the matrix for an unknown reason and was soon extracted via normal procedure. But during the extraction his vision was severely damaged for unidentified reasons. Maishou had tremendous amounts of trouble seeing whilst jacked in, however when in the real world he can see fine. The machines themselves found the solution when they coded special “contact lenses” which allowed him to see inside the matrix, his eyes exploit there weakness by allowing them severe strain and the capacity to be used in conjunction with the “contacts” to allow him to see the matrix’s inner code. Making him ideal for hacking and coding. He has joined the machines to repay his dept to them; he has chosen gold colored contacts to show how he treasures his vision.

Maishou’s younger brother known as “minshou” was also extracted soon after his brother, some suspects he stumbled upon his brother’s notes but no one is sure. Minshou suffered similar problems with his eyes during his own extraction, but in an unfortunate twist of fate, the machines refused to make him contacts similar to his brothers. Their basis for this was that minshou showed bursts of anger and harbored a deep resentment to both his brothers and was deemed unreliable by agent gray. Faced with his disability he became a wild card with no allies and no clear enemies. He was often sighted walking around the matrix aimlessly, hunting down anyone who may know how to help get him get his vision back. His searches soon brought him before the Merovingian himself… how he managed to get close enough to him to hit him is unknown but it is widely believed that the Frenchman allowed it, knowing minshou was no match for him. moving just enough to dodge the blows thrown by minshou the Frenchman taunted minshou about his lack of vision and his obvious inability to see the merovingian let alone hit him. After being easily dispatched he was offered a job in protecting the Frenchman. Minco’s exact words where “I just tried to kill you? Are you stupid or as blind as me?“ the Frenchman’s reply was “The best way to keep loyalty in a man's heart is to keep money in his pocket” the Frenchman elaborated giving promises of power and control, and said that there where way’s he could acquire the “contacts” needed for him. The Frenchman managed to acquire the lenses. But due to differences in him and his brothers eye condition’s, he soon found his advantage to be that he could capture movements perfectly anticipating his opponents movements and being able to see perfectly the path of a bullet while it is still moving, this gives him potential to be an excellent martial artist. However as he soon learned, it doesn’t matter if your eyes can see the moves, if your body isn’t fast enough to react ((OOC: anyone who know where that quotes from get’s a prize)). He has chosen red contact’s to show his anger towards the world.

The youngest sibling “zenshou” was almost self-sustained after nearly being driven insane by seeing his family torn by the matrix. He was quickly released and rushed to Zion. He suffered the same visual problems as his brother’s however; he has one eye similar to his brother minshou’s and one unique eye. He joined Zion, seeing his brother’s torn between their paths. It is also unknown where he got his contacts. Though one has the same effects as his brother his other eye, which he has chosen purple for unheard of reason This eyes advantage however is that it…

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## Juristicion required 

Not so much a backstory perhaps, more an awakening:

The point of obstruction, spinning on its axis, weary of the light. My eyes widen slowly as they attempt to swallow the dark confines of the room, failing to bring an image into focus. Shadowy outlines of anonymous objects being to filter and morph into definable shapes.  I rub my eyes, muscle memory, stains of recollection burned onto the insides of my eyelids, the sting of stale tears. Here again, it’s just as it always was. 3.03am, it doesn’t matter, I only wandered into another night-time day-dream.  I barely sleep.  My dreams had become too much to bear.  Twisted unreal images of a gaunt, life-like marionette, flailing wildly on a dark and lonely street, obliterated by rain and lit by flashbulbs of lightning.  It has a look of pure, inhuman terror on its face, shaking habitually, controlled by unknown, out of frame puppeteers.  It stares through me vacantly, muted and bound by acceptance of its fate, going nowhere and losing the will to fight.  I’m there, but unable to look up, unable to help, unable to run, helpless and sequestered.  I can’t shut my eyes without seeing it.  I’ve never understood my dreams. 

Obstruction slips, knowledge falters, tearing at sutures. As the four walls around me seemingly begin to shrink, I go out and take a walk.  Less people around at night.  Those who are around give me a wide-berth; guess I look like I got nothing of value, nothing to offer anyone.  There was one time some punk got me from behind and tried to slit my throat with a makeshift, rusting knife.  Almost before I knew what was happening, I instinctually had him on the floor, the same knife to his throat.  Can’t explain how. I let him go to scurry off back into the shadows, tail between his legs.  People around the derelict part of this decaying town haven’t come near me since, suits me fine. I’d be throwing back any old rocket fuel right now to get out the rain, if all the bars hadn’t closed long ago. There’s a club, but they don’t let my kind past the queue, I apparently don’t mix well with others.  My face doesn’t fit the profile.  I don’t bother trying anymore.  Feels like I’m the only person still awake, been walking a long time and been avoided by less people than usual.  A sharp pain flashes behind my eyes and seemingly out the other end, leaving me dazed, and the road foggy.  My faculties come back to me along with my sight as I notice I’ve stumbled into a part of town I’d never seen before. It’s a dark and lonely street, obliterated by rain….

Overcoming the gag reflex, heart in fist, learning to swim. My heart bursts into flames, feels like it wants to jump ship.  My whole body feels heavy and I’m pinned to the spot like no force could conceivably move me.  I blink fast through the rain, rub my eyes, muscle memory.  I fixate on the rough outline of a shape fifty feet ahead of me, a small, maligned figure, barely lit by flashbulbs of lightning through the darkness. Panic spreads all over me as I fully submit to the realisation that I have seen this place before.  My eyes grow accustomed to the brief, sharp flashes of available light.  A wash of terror floods my senses as I begin to inch forward involuntarily, I am powerless to stop myself and whatever is driving me.  Ten feet away, two streetlights burst into life causing my eyes to slam shut in automatic defence.  The light projects a steady beam onto the ground in front of me.  I finally stop myself walking a few feet away from the shape.  I rub my eyes before opening them wide to make sure they aren’t deceiving me.  A flashbulb of lightning illuminates the scene as I blink hard through the rain.  I’m confronted by an image I had avoided for months, an image I swear I’d never allow myself to see again, one that just isn’t possible outside my dreams.  The marionette flails its arms wildly in front of me for a second then comes to a rest, head hanging towards the ground.  Fear rushes to my mouth but I cannot summon my synapses to allow me to scream.  My blood runs cold and my heart burns, I can’t move.  The marionette stands motionless, hung by strings I’d never seen in my dreams, I manage to glance skywards but am beaten back by the rain.  I try to run but nothing happens. I must have fallen asleep; this must be the next stage of the dream.  Here again, as it always was.  This can’t be real. Wake up.  Wake UP.  Its head slowly rises to face me, but I can’t turn away.  I manage to form a scream as the very nature of my reality falls down around me in the space of a second.  The face of the gaunt marionette....Is my face.  Darkness invades my mind, eyes and heart.  I can’t breathe, think or act.  In the same instant, another figure comes from nowhere, I can just make out a tie.  They’re pointing a gun at me, a sadistic smile creeping across their face.  The smile turns to anger, I think they say the word “Fate”  A car appears from nowhere, screeches to a halt as it runs the second figure down.  The streetlights go off and the marionette vanishes.  I fall to the floor, as if released from an unseen hold.  Someone exits the car, yells something at me through the rain.  I’m confused, terrified and suddenly aware of the dull thud of my heart still trying to punch its way out of my chest.  It almost felt good; I hadn’t felt anything in such a long time.  I haven’t the presence of mind to run, but merely the shortest of breaths to scream; “WHO ARE YOU” back at the person from the car.  An arm reaches out, pulling me off the ground and toward them. They put their mouth to my ear to shout urgently through the still pounding rain.  These were the last words I was to “hear” If I had known, I would’ve thought of something better to say in response.

“We know the agents are invading your dreams. Whatever it was, it was designed to sub-consciously lead you to this place for elimination. All we had was a location, and a name.  You’re safe now, but we must leave, more will be coming.  It’s time for you to learn to swim”

The familiarity and comfort of the words struck me, strange, as I was hearing them for the first time.  Broken, consumed by a myriad of emotions too kaleidoscopic to pin-down, still not convinced I'm not within a terrifyingly lucid dream, I fall to my knees, and through tears I fumble out one word: “Help….”

Finally things get clearer; this is where I begin…

Christopher Carroll was a detective in Hampton Green before he was forced into making a decision that would forever change his life.

On October 31 of 1999, he was asked to investigate a homicide at the Hampton Green Hotel. He reported to the lobby, where the receptionist seemed a little nervous of his presence. She told him to take the elevator to the first floor of the basement. The only “survivor” of the incident was a guard by the name of Bob. Bob informed him that early in the morning he saw an excessively pale woman enter the basement floors with two bulky horrifying beast-like creatures. He then stated that he saw the woman kill each one of his colleagues one by one on each floor. Apparently she kissed the necks of her victims for a long period of time before moving on to the next. Bob kept following the trio to the bottom of the five floors of the basement. He saw them head toward a phone at the very end of the level. The phone had been inoperative for decades, and when the two creatures approached the phone and were “sucked” through it. Once they had left, the woman turned around and looked at Bob directly. In the blink of an eye, she had run up the hallway, grabbed him by the neck, and whispered in his ear the name Christopher Carroll. She stated that she would return later in the evening and wait for Christopher near the phone. She told the guard that if he did not comply with the order, that her friends would surely be back to deal with him appropriately.

As fate would have it, the guard managed to locate Christopher and summon him to the site. As they made their way to the fifth level of the basement, passing many cadavers, they reached the final tunnel of the lowest level where the woman and her accomplices were waiting for them. "I will take you no further" the guard said with a very nervous tone to his voice. The woman approached Christopher and said that they had been trying to reach him for some time now. They required his help to locate a pestering spy and a computer hacker. She had been tracking these two, without success, for some time now. She continued by expressing that their only knowledge that she had, of the two men, was the killing of the rest of her team and the Hampton Green Hotel was the last place they were seen. The detective understood where this conversation was going and was not fond of following orders from a woman that he had never met. Feeling as if his life was in danger, he tried to extend his distance from her, but could not get further then 10 yards before she attacked him with a sidekick across the face. "You are a fool for trying to escape." She said. As if that was not painful enough, one of her bodyguards walked up, grabbed him by the legs, and threw him into the nearest wall. Christopher was unable to scream for help, nor could he move. The creature raised his foot to apply the finishing blow, when <crack> Suddenly the beast's neck was snapped and his body tossed to the side by some unseen force. The other bodyguard appeared to be frozen in place, and only seconds later a stake protruded from the woman's chest. All three bodies fell to the ground motionless. Christopher was in awe.

Two men appeared in front of the detective, one fixing up his enourmous goggles, and the other seemed to disable some sort of cloaking device. The two men introduced themselves as Nebkhat and Wraith.

Wraith looked the detective over, motioned a few times with his arms and the detective was completely revitalized. Christopher was speechless. Nebkhat immediately described a crazed guard that ran past them in the halls, and figured that they were a little late, so they made haste to Christopher.

Wraith motioned to Nebkhat that time was short. Nebkhat asked Christopher to join them at an apartment complex that was near the hotel. After entering the complex Christopher, as always, began investigating his surroundings. Nebkhat's team seemed to have wired a chair to a set host of computers. Nebkhat turned to the detective and, without hesitation, offered him two choices. He presented two pills, one red and one blue.."take the blue pill and you will forget any of this happened but you will continue to face more of these nightmares that have nearly escorted you to death. Your second option is to take the redpil, where you will ally with us and assist the Merovingian's biddings. Christopher's reply was a request for more time to decide. His time was cut short. Before finishing his sentence, the door collapsed inward, and a man dressed in a black suit stepped into the room. Nebkhat turned and shot a wall of bullets toward the man, every shot was a miss. Wraith yelled to the detective, informing him that he must choose now, there was no time. The detective tossed the red pill into the back of his throat and threw his head back as he swallowed it. Wraith pushed the detective into the chair and pressed a key on one of the pads. Everything after that was a blur. This detective would no longer exist, his new name would be Insertion, for if the Merovingian requires a task completed, insertion of his operative is needed in order for it to be carried out successfully...