Post by Taxon on Oct 19, 2022 19:01:50 GMT -5
"Is this recording?"
A slouched figure walks into focus, head and shoulders covered by a torn lab coat. The lights are dimmed and the revolving vats of culture fluid center the creature. She clears her throat with the coarseness of Doctor Qywi, a close associate with Doctor Tatchi. A silence settles, drags on. The vats hum, hiss, stop. She sits.
"I am so hungry."
The lab coat drops. Qywi looks to the camera, enormous hands clutched, hiding something from the camera. A sterile pink wrapper slips between the uncoordinated fingers. She sighs, clearing her throat again. Her single eye struggles to look into the camera's aperture. She drags her seat closer, a chair sized for tuffles, which she no longer is. Not entirely, at least.
"It's been... forty-eight, forty-nine hours since I self-isolated. Ate all the rations, too. They should've lasted for months, but... It seems I underestimated my new metabolism. Maybe I should starve and be done with this hassle."
The eye turns to something out of frame. There's a sound like meat on metal, a surge of electricity, a cage rattling. The lab goes dark.
"Ignore that." Qywi picks up the labcoat while power returns, first the lights, the AC, the vats, the world whirrs to life "The saibamen don't seem to like my new look. Perhaps I resemble some primordial predator of theirs, that'd imply lower sentients have such a thing as genetic memory, as was in my thesis... But, keep to what's relevant, Qywi dear."
The labcoat rips further as she tries to put it on, a tear runs from shoulder to shoulder, then following down to her right cuff. Again, she clears her throat. No more slouching.
"Alright, so: I measured my power level a couple hours ago. Seven thousand units, standard! That's... a lot. Relatively speaking. Stronger than most saiyans- pardon, space apes. Still, still, I mustn't let it go into my head. There's people out there who can snuff out seven thousand units like nothing. Read some report online, about... Power levels, yes. And how they adapt. Too materialist, for my liking, but ah, priorities. It seems that people who get to eight thousand units are likely to get eight thousand more, and those eight thousand more, and so on and so on, with each increment of eight thousand becoming 'easier'. Guess that explains it all the city-exploding oozarus and Arcosian emperors? Power Dynamics isn't my field...
"I'd rather keep to the real sciences, HA!
"Ha..."
Qywi cracks her knuckles, one at a time, from her right little finger to her left little finger. She flicks the wrapper away.
"When I leave- If I leave. I'm killing Tatchi. And eat them, too... Bastard!"
Saibamen cackle, throw themselves at grates, a clawed hand appears from behind the lens before being shocked, then it's reeled back in pain. The light goes out, the screams continue, all the while the scientist sighs. Then come the lights, AC, vats. The fluid runs along the tiles, from a scratched vat. "I look like a freak... Feel like it, too. It's... as though I'm made of evolutionary divergences. Things don't align. I can feel my body struggle to let itself function, all my organs are... It's like they're taken from different things! Not just animals, plants, too. And my blood, it's rich in iron. Like an Earthling's, but more concentrated. Yet here's my body, just existing. Stable, insofar as I can scan and feel my vitals. Just struggling. To keep up. Rebuilding." She sighs, dropping a rag on the greenish, nutrient-rich puddle.
"I think I need food to survive. A lot of it. But this */&%$?" she kicks up a wave of wrappers, dropped on the ground "It's all gone. And most likely useless. It's geared towards tuffle diets, not... whatever thing I am now. My unscientific sixth instinct is telling me to eat something bloody, raw, fresh, warm... Not the vatgrown &%#]], I mean something real. Something that had a mother, like when the primordial tuffles brought down megafauna with flintlocks... Ah, this bastard hunger! I'd eat the fauna and the flintlock." arms crossed, Qywi stands up and walks to the camera. "If I'm saying nonsense, might as well not waste battery over it..." She reaches over it, careful, the hand heavy and oversized.
"Entry over. More tomorrow. Think I'll have a saibaman for dinner."
The eye turns to something out of frame. There's a sound like meat on metal, a surge of electricity, a cage rattling. The lab goes dark.
"Ignore that." Qywi picks up the labcoat while power returns, first the lights, the AC, the vats, the world whirrs to life "The saibamen don't seem to like my new look. Perhaps I resemble some primordial predator of theirs, that'd imply lower sentients have such a thing as genetic memory, as was in my thesis... But, keep to what's relevant, Qywi dear."
The labcoat rips further as she tries to put it on, a tear runs from shoulder to shoulder, then following down to her right cuff. Again, she clears her throat. No more slouching.
"Alright, so: I measured my power level a couple hours ago. Seven thousand units, standard! That's... a lot. Relatively speaking. Stronger than most saiyans- pardon, space apes. Still, still, I mustn't let it go into my head. There's people out there who can snuff out seven thousand units like nothing. Read some report online, about... Power levels, yes. And how they adapt. Too materialist, for my liking, but ah, priorities. It seems that people who get to eight thousand units are likely to get eight thousand more, and those eight thousand more, and so on and so on, with each increment of eight thousand becoming 'easier'. Guess that explains it all the city-exploding oozarus and Arcosian emperors? Power Dynamics isn't my field...
"I'd rather keep to the real sciences, HA!
"Ha..."
Qywi cracks her knuckles, one at a time, from her right little finger to her left little finger. She flicks the wrapper away.
"When I leave- If I leave. I'm killing Tatchi. And eat them, too... Bastard!"
Saibamen cackle, throw themselves at grates, a clawed hand appears from behind the lens before being shocked, then it's reeled back in pain. The light goes out, the screams continue, all the while the scientist sighs. Then come the lights, AC, vats. The fluid runs along the tiles, from a scratched vat. "I look like a freak... Feel like it, too. It's... as though I'm made of evolutionary divergences. Things don't align. I can feel my body struggle to let itself function, all my organs are... It's like they're taken from different things! Not just animals, plants, too. And my blood, it's rich in iron. Like an Earthling's, but more concentrated. Yet here's my body, just existing. Stable, insofar as I can scan and feel my vitals. Just struggling. To keep up. Rebuilding." She sighs, dropping a rag on the greenish, nutrient-rich puddle.
"I think I need food to survive. A lot of it. But this */&%$?" she kicks up a wave of wrappers, dropped on the ground "It's all gone. And most likely useless. It's geared towards tuffle diets, not... whatever thing I am now. My unscientific sixth instinct is telling me to eat something bloody, raw, fresh, warm... Not the vatgrown &%#]], I mean something real. Something that had a mother, like when the primordial tuffles brought down megafauna with flintlocks... Ah, this bastard hunger! I'd eat the fauna and the flintlock." arms crossed, Qywi stands up and walks to the camera. "If I'm saying nonsense, might as well not waste battery over it..." She reaches over it, careful, the hand heavy and oversized.
"Entry over. More tomorrow. Think I'll have a saibaman for dinner."