A-F-06-556, AKA "Memory's Amanuensis"
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"Everything beautiful comes from the loss of something treasured."
- Memory's Amanuensis
F-06-556 is an ALEPH Abnormality considered to be a great and heavy threat to the stability of the corporation's wellbeing. Not for what it causes alone as an Abnormality of its class, but instead for everything this creature knows.
While it can talk one on one with an Agent almost like another human, Memory's Amanuensis is far from another human being. Nothing human would remember through the corporation's temporal resets. Yet it does, somehow materializing consequences for itself the more it writes down and acknowledges, continuing to become worse as time carries on.
Numerous tasks, such as abnormality works done in a day, number of agents hired, total abnormality breaches, ego gifts collected overall, and more will all be written down by this Abnormality. It continues to collect these notes without end, whether the game is reset back to day one or not. Memory's Amanuensis will only breach once any of these counters reach the strangely specific number of 56- even if it's the day that this abnormality is hired. Restarting the day during its breaching will remove 6 agents from your assortment and bring its lists back to 0 as if stealing away their lives.
Never allow it to breach. The cost of Agent removal is worth not dealing with it upon escape. It will slowly move through halls, crystalline growths forming up through the floors and walls of the areas it travels through that causes damage that changes depending upon the area. Memory's Amanuensis won't attack while it's moving, only stopping in large rooms to breathe and recuperate, but will attack then with the ferocity and desperation of a monster.
We don't know why it knows these things, or how its worsening mental state effects the cognition filter, but what we do know is that we should never allow it to teach any agents its self-proclaimed "Magick."
"Do you know what it means to wield fate in your hands?"
"Memory's Amanuensis pulls at its face while looking at <name>, strands sticking to its fingers as if slime were mixed into its body."
"<Name> catches themselves staring into Memory's Amanuensis' eyes as if there was nothing else in the room."
"The room smells like extinguished candles."
"Memory's Amanuensis gently runs its hand along <name>'s head, remarking how they remind it of a 'student' it had in the past."
"<Name> can't ignore the feeling of pressure inside their head the longer they stay here."
"The abnormality's bleeding refuses to clot no matter what <name> does."
"Wounds continue to grow the longer that Memory's Amanuensis stays in this room, golden weapons appearing almost like magic."
"'Magick is real. Let me show you. The pain is worth everything that comes.'"
"Memory's Amanuensis refuses to stop shaking, remarking that the silence of the room never ends."
"'I know you, <name>. You don't need to be afraid of me, we were once friends.'"
"'Do you remember when I was your master, and you were my student?'"
"'This place traps you in invisible cords, where your death on the stage matters not, but I can free you.'"
A tall, thin blonde person of indeterminate gender was watching me. They were very tall, dressed like David Bowie and had a German accent. They took a big drag of their cigarette and said, “You know, the problem with you humans is you give away every part of your self until there is nothing left.” I looked down at my body, and my entire torso had been hollowed out. Everything inside had been replaced with black and silver machines. They blew out a big cloud of cigarette smoke and told me, “Just because you exist by accident doesn't make it any less meaningful.”
janet fitch, white oleander / things or things with alexandra jacob - viscera collection, 2016 / brynne rebele-henry, “self-biography as a false saint” / ashley blanton - dendrite, 2013 / safiya sinclair, “notes on the state of virginia ii” / harry paul ally - figures collection, 21st c. / nicole homer, “underbelly” / ana teresa barboza - modos de vestir series, 2009 / carmen maria machado, “the lost performance of the heigh priestess of the temple of horror” / carrie (1976) / anne carson, plainwater: essays and poetry
a woman is a wound
I'm in a family of vegetarian vampires who bite oranges and suck the juice from them instead of blood. We are on vacation with a family of non-vegetarian vampires who put us in a sauna and steamed us almost to death.