Poem: "Whatever Is Left Within"
Jun. 17th, 2020 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis poem came out of the June 2, 2020 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from mylittleangel. It also fills the 'Sad / Upset" square in my 6-1-20 card for the Cottoncandy Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette. It belongs to the Officer Pink thread of the Polychrome Heroics series; it's set elsewhere featuring different characters, but reacts to the raid on the Umsetzung Compound.
Warning: This poem deals with the aftermath of mad science torture.
"Whatever Is Left Within"
[Monday, April 20, 2015]
Ticker had watched the news
for days as the Americans raided
the Umsetzung Compound and
freed the captives within it.
He saw the Jewish centaur,
her furious speech like
a slap in the face.
He saw the suspects
led out in handcuffs,
their faces captioned
with a bold invitation
to send information
leading to convictions.
Ticker had watched
the news for days, and
now it was time for him
to do something about it.
So he walked across
the second floor to
the dormitory room
by the nurse's office.
He knocked softly
on the door and said,
"Giolla, it's Ticker. I'm
coming in for a visit."
A low growl answered.
Ticker opened the door
with caution, so as not
to hit her or to give
her a tempting target.
Giolla hadn't tried
to claw him in a while,
though, so that was good.
Ticker couldn't see her, so
he bent down to check if she
was under the bed as usual.
He caught a gleam of amber eyes,
and the warning growl intensified.
"All right, no staring, I know
the rule," Ticker said soothingly.
He sat down in his usual chair.
"I just needed to see where you
were so I wouldn't step on you."
She gave a sniff of disdain.
"Listen, I heard some things on
the news that I think you need
to hear," Ticker said. "Based
on how you look and how we
found you, this stuff might have
something to do with your past."
The growl from under the bed
sounded more thoughtful now.
"This happened in America,
in Missouri," said Ticker. "They
broke up a mad science lab --
a real pile o'shite. A bunch of
supervillains got snared rapid."
He heard a distinctly satisfied growl.
"The toe-rag in charge of the place
is called Carl Bernhardt," said Ticker.
"He tortured a lot of people, and
turned some of them into soups,
like centaurs. There were also
cat people in a different building."
Giolla hissed, her sharp claws
scrabbling against the floor.
"It's all right, Giolla, he's
not here, he's clear across
the ocean," Ticker assured her.
The hiss faded, an engine
running out of steam.
"I wanted you to know
because there's a lot of help
available to any of the victims,
even people who weren't in
the compound during the raid,"
Ticker said. "If that's you, then
you deserve some restitution."
Another shuffle and hiss
jostled the bed a bit.
"All right, if you don't want
to answer, you don't have to,"
Ticker said. "That's something
I learned working toward freedom."
A growl lilted upward in question.
"I grew to understand that people
don’t always build walls to keep
others out," Ticker said. "There
are times it is done out of necessity
to protect whatever is left within."
He got up, heading for the door.
Maybe Giolla needed space.
"Bad man," she whispered.
Ticker startled at the sound.
She almost never spoke.
"What?" he asked her.
"Bad man hurt us,"
Giolla said. She crept
out from under the bed,
her ginger fur rumpled,
standing up in waves.
"You look pretty shook,"
he said. "Can I help?"
"Safe," Giolla said,
leaning against his legs.
"You want me to keep
you safe?" Ticker said.
"I'll do that. Nobody
will hurt you here."
She rubbed her face
over his shin, smoothing
the hackled fur back down.
Ticker sat down so that he
wouldn't be looming over her.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Hard," Giolla said, frowning.
"Home was bad. Lab worse.
Long time -- was little, then big.
Other girls too. Bad man hurt us.
Got fur, got --" She dragged
a hand over her pointed ears.
"Be gentle with your ears,
Giolla," said Ticker, guiding
her hand away. If it upset her,
better she claw him than herself.
Giolla flicked her ears out of
the way. "Then Pussy left lab.
New man, new man, always new
but still bad. Still hurt. Then you
came," she said. "Better here."
"Oh, thank God," Ticker said.
"I thought you hated us."
"Better here," Giolla said.
She rubbed her face on him
again, then butted under his hand.
She still looked sad and upset,
but not as much as before.
"Do you ... want me to pet you?"
Ticker asked hesitantly.
He'd only tried that once.
She ripped his arm up,
and Dian scolded him.
"Yesss," she hissed,
butting him again.
Mostly he just held
his hand where she
could get under it, but
when he felt her ears,
he let his fingers curl
enough to scratch them.
Giolla gave a happy mumble,
not quite a purr. Maybe she
didn't even know how to purr.
Certainly, he'd never heard it.
"I'll pet you whenever you want,"
Ticker promised. "Just ask,
or come touch me first."
She sniffed him, then
rubbed the spot again.
Ticker wondered why cats
did that. Maybe it felt good.
She'd never asked for
anything else, so if that's
what she wanted, then he
was happy to provide it.
"Do you want to talk with
anyone about what happened
to you and the others?" he said.
Giolla hissed, ears flattening.
"I guess that's a no," Ticker said.
"Could I at least tell someone
what you told me? They need
to know, and it might help."
A long, grumbling growl
tapered away. Then she said,
"No name, no place, no me."
"I won't tell them who you are,
how to find you. I won't let them
near you unless you want me to,"
Ticker promised. "May I just say
what you look like and what he did?"
"Tell," she growled. "Bad man hurt us."
"I'll tell them that," Ticker said. "They'll
lock him in a cage, hopefully forever."
The ripping snarl scared him, and
he pulled his hand out of reach.
"Good," said Giolla. She scratched
the floor as if burying stinkies.
"You said it," Ticker agreed.
"I'll leave you alone now.
I don't want to crowd you.
I know that people make
you feel nervous. Thanks
for talking to me, though."
Giolla butted him one last time,
then slunk back under the bed,
curling around herself to protect
whatever was left within.
Ticker let himself out, closing
the door softly behind him.
He needed to tell everyone else
that Giolla had come out and
cuddled him, and that she spoke.
He also had people to call,
and more news to watch.
If the Americans didn't
take care of Charlie, then
Ticker would do it himself.
* * *
Notes:
Ticker (Alroy Collins) -- He has fair skin with freckles, amber eyes, and short wavy red hair. He is tall and slim. He has numerous tattoos, including a melted clock over the back of his left hand, inspired by his Time Control gift. Ticker belongs to the branch of the IRA that is more-or-less precise in its use of terrorism to protest British dominion and bring justice where the courts won't. He is an ally of the Marionettes.
Origin: When Alroy was seventeen, his mother fell ill suddenly and was dying. There was no way to save her, and the family was scattered far and wide. His superpower manifested, buying enough time for the family to gather and say goodbye. Which was great until he passed out on the floor from overexertion, making everyone think they were about to lose another relative. They've never really relied on him knowing his own limits since then.
Uniform: Street clothes.
Qualities: Expert (+4) Revolutionary, Good (+2) Dexterity, Good (+2) Drinking Buddies, Good (+2) Spirited, Good (+2) Storyteller
Poor (-2) Nervous
Powers: Expert (+4) Time Control
Motivation: Irish freedom and reunification.
Giolla Seireadan (formerly called Pussy) -- She has pinkish-fair skin, amber eyes, and straight ginger hair that falls just below her ears. She has strongly feline features that include slitted eyes, pointed ears, sharp teeth, gray nosepad and lips, and thick nonretractable claws on her hands and feet. Her age is unknown but resembles that of a human girl in her mid-teens, so they're calling it 15 years. She lives in Patchwork Manor on the outskirts of Dublin, in the large dormitory room adjacent to the nurse's office, which used to be the counseling room.
Giolla was rescued from sexual slavery by some of her housemates, who believe that she was probably created for that purpose by a mad scientist. So far she has been unable and/or unwilling to connect with anyone else, but they refuse to give up. Her housemates take turns sitting with her while she snarls at them or hides under the bed, trying to show her that they're friendly. They don't even know her real name, if she has one. When they found her, she wore nothing but a collar that read Pussy. They cut it off and gave her a new name, but she doesn't answer to it. Her actual orientation(s), if any, remain unknown, having been obscured by sexual exploitation and presumed abusive/neglectful upbringing.
Origin: Mad science.
Uniform: Comfortable girl clothes. She gravitates to black when possible.
Qualities: Good (+2) Fast, Good (+2) Fierce, Good (+2) Sensual
Poor (-2) Dubh
Powers: Good (+2) Feline Features
She has the feline abilities of enhanced hearing, enhanced vision, bite/claw attack, balance, flexibility, jumping, and enhanced healing. And just to make things extra challenging, she only needs an hour or two of deep sleep per night, although she catnaps periodically through the day.
Vulnerability: Thus far, Giolla is stuck in feral mode. She behaves more like a cat than like a human -- pretty much the only human things she likes are clothes for the protection and more interesting food. She is violent in general and territorial in particular. She hisses and claws at anyone who comes near her. She is also strongly susceptible to catnip.
Motivation: Survival.
* * *
Cúirt Phíosála -- Patchwork Manor, or Patchwork Court
cuilt phíosála -- patchwork quilt
TORTHAÍ IN FOCLÓIR GAEILGE—BÉARLA
píosáil, v.t. (pres. -álann; vn. ~f, gs. -ála).Piece together, patch.
ABAIRTÍ IN FOCLÓIR GAEILGE—BÉARLA
obair
~ phaistí, phíosála, patchwork.
-- Foclóir Nua Béarla–Gaeilge
patchwork quilt
noun CRAFT, TEXT
cuilt phíosála
cuilt bhreac
-- New English-Irish Dictionary
cúirt, f. (gs. ~e, pl. ~eanna). 1. Court. (a)~rí, ríoga, royal court. (b)~bhreithiúnais, dlí, court of justice, of law. ~ achomhairc, court of appeal. ~ airm, court-martial. ~ bhréige, mock court, mock trial. ~ choiriúil, criminal court. ~ dlínse achoimre, court of summary jurisdiction. ~ éadála, prize-court. ~ ghearr, petty sessions. ~ íochtarach, lower court, court of first instance. ~ taifid, court of record. An ChúirtDúiche, Chuarda, Uachtarach, the District, Circuit, Supreme, Court. ~ a chur ardhuine, (i) to try s.o. in court, (ii) to sue s.o. Dul, teacht, os comhair ~e, to appear in court. ~ ina suí, court in session. I g~ iata, phoiblí, in camera, in open court.(c)~eaglasta, ecclesiastical court. ~ easpaig, episcopal court. (d)~ éigse, bardic court. (e) Cara, focal, sa chúirt, (backstairs) influence. 2. ~, teach ~e, courthouse. 3.Manor-house, mansion. Hist:~ bharúin, baronial court. 4. Courtyard. ~ caisleáin, the courtyard of a castle. 5. ~ imeartha, leadóige, playing-, tennis-, court.
-- Foclóir Nua Béarla–Gaeilge
See the exterior of Patchwork Manor and the basement floor plan.
On the first floor, the little circle beside the helipad is a teleport pad. The arrow points north, showing that the wide angles of the house are oriented east and west to catch the sunrise and sunset. The square office at the near end of the dance hall is a quiet room with insulated walls. The small kitchen and the small dining room adjacent to the salon are reserved for hypoallergenic foods and people with food allergies. The larger kitchen and dining room below them are for general dining.
On the second floor, Gaines Aldana, Diancecht "Dian" MacGillabrede, and their son Sein share the 2-bedroom apartment in the upper left. Jarlath MacNiadh and Nainsi Magorian have the matching apartment across the hall. Ticker has the big bedroom on the lower left with the private office. Dustbin (Edric Dewayne) has the bedroom next to Ticker's and the matching office. Gogarty has the bedroom next to Edric's room. Quaid (Kalen Rooney) and Tlachtga (Bairre O'Buachalla) share the bedroom in the upper middle between the staircases. Gormlaith (Muireann Mulryan) has the bedroom in the upper right. Bretta Terris has the room at the upper right of the dormitory, across from the nurse's station. Giolla Seireadan has the dormitory room adjacent to the nurse's station.
On the third floor, Silfra (Heidi Varanger) has the upper left bedroom, and her sister Eldrid (Hilda Varanger) has the upper right bedroom. Animesh "Ani" Paraiya has the lower left bedroom near the ping-pong table. Lalor (Marl O'Murdock) has the lower right bedroom.
"I grew to understand that people don’t always build walls to keep others out. There are times it is done out of necessity to protect whatever is left within."
-- Anonymous
Pile o'shite (n): terrible - something was so bad it was...
Snared rapid (v): caught doing something one shouldn't have been doing
Toe-rag (n): a useless bollix
Shook (a): looks very unwell e.g. "he looked shook"
Cat rubbing is called bunting and involves scent marking.
Stinky/Stinkies (n): shit
mylittleangel. It also fills the 'Sad / Upset" square in my 6-1-20 card for the Cottoncandy Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette. It belongs to the Officer Pink thread of the Polychrome Heroics series; it's set elsewhere featuring different characters, but reacts to the raid on the Umsetzung Compound.Warning: This poem deals with the aftermath of mad science torture.
"Whatever Is Left Within"
[Monday, April 20, 2015]
Ticker had watched the news
for days as the Americans raided
the Umsetzung Compound and
freed the captives within it.
He saw the Jewish centaur,
her furious speech like
a slap in the face.
He saw the suspects
led out in handcuffs,
their faces captioned
with a bold invitation
to send information
leading to convictions.
Ticker had watched
the news for days, and
now it was time for him
to do something about it.
So he walked across
the second floor to
the dormitory room
by the nurse's office.
He knocked softly
on the door and said,
"Giolla, it's Ticker. I'm
coming in for a visit."
A low growl answered.
Ticker opened the door
with caution, so as not
to hit her or to give
her a tempting target.
Giolla hadn't tried
to claw him in a while,
though, so that was good.
Ticker couldn't see her, so
he bent down to check if she
was under the bed as usual.
He caught a gleam of amber eyes,
and the warning growl intensified.
"All right, no staring, I know
the rule," Ticker said soothingly.
He sat down in his usual chair.
"I just needed to see where you
were so I wouldn't step on you."
She gave a sniff of disdain.
"Listen, I heard some things on
the news that I think you need
to hear," Ticker said. "Based
on how you look and how we
found you, this stuff might have
something to do with your past."
The growl from under the bed
sounded more thoughtful now.
"This happened in America,
in Missouri," said Ticker. "They
broke up a mad science lab --
a real pile o'shite. A bunch of
supervillains got snared rapid."
He heard a distinctly satisfied growl.
"The toe-rag in charge of the place
is called Carl Bernhardt," said Ticker.
"He tortured a lot of people, and
turned some of them into soups,
like centaurs. There were also
cat people in a different building."
Giolla hissed, her sharp claws
scrabbling against the floor.
"It's all right, Giolla, he's
not here, he's clear across
the ocean," Ticker assured her.
The hiss faded, an engine
running out of steam.
"I wanted you to know
because there's a lot of help
available to any of the victims,
even people who weren't in
the compound during the raid,"
Ticker said. "If that's you, then
you deserve some restitution."
Another shuffle and hiss
jostled the bed a bit.
"All right, if you don't want
to answer, you don't have to,"
Ticker said. "That's something
I learned working toward freedom."
A growl lilted upward in question.
"I grew to understand that people
don’t always build walls to keep
others out," Ticker said. "There
are times it is done out of necessity
to protect whatever is left within."
He got up, heading for the door.
Maybe Giolla needed space.
"Bad man," she whispered.
Ticker startled at the sound.
She almost never spoke.
"What?" he asked her.
"Bad man hurt us,"
Giolla said. She crept
out from under the bed,
her ginger fur rumpled,
standing up in waves.
"You look pretty shook,"
he said. "Can I help?"
"Safe," Giolla said,
leaning against his legs.
"You want me to keep
you safe?" Ticker said.
"I'll do that. Nobody
will hurt you here."
She rubbed her face
over his shin, smoothing
the hackled fur back down.
Ticker sat down so that he
wouldn't be looming over her.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Hard," Giolla said, frowning.
"Home was bad. Lab worse.
Long time -- was little, then big.
Other girls too. Bad man hurt us.
Got fur, got --" She dragged
a hand over her pointed ears.
"Be gentle with your ears,
Giolla," said Ticker, guiding
her hand away. If it upset her,
better she claw him than herself.
Giolla flicked her ears out of
the way. "Then Pussy left lab.
New man, new man, always new
but still bad. Still hurt. Then you
came," she said. "Better here."
"Oh, thank God," Ticker said.
"I thought you hated us."
"Better here," Giolla said.
She rubbed her face on him
again, then butted under his hand.
She still looked sad and upset,
but not as much as before.
"Do you ... want me to pet you?"
Ticker asked hesitantly.
He'd only tried that once.
She ripped his arm up,
and Dian scolded him.
"Yesss," she hissed,
butting him again.
Mostly he just held
his hand where she
could get under it, but
when he felt her ears,
he let his fingers curl
enough to scratch them.
Giolla gave a happy mumble,
not quite a purr. Maybe she
didn't even know how to purr.
Certainly, he'd never heard it.
"I'll pet you whenever you want,"
Ticker promised. "Just ask,
or come touch me first."
She sniffed him, then
rubbed the spot again.
Ticker wondered why cats
did that. Maybe it felt good.
She'd never asked for
anything else, so if that's
what she wanted, then he
was happy to provide it.
"Do you want to talk with
anyone about what happened
to you and the others?" he said.
Giolla hissed, ears flattening.
"I guess that's a no," Ticker said.
"Could I at least tell someone
what you told me? They need
to know, and it might help."
A long, grumbling growl
tapered away. Then she said,
"No name, no place, no me."
"I won't tell them who you are,
how to find you. I won't let them
near you unless you want me to,"
Ticker promised. "May I just say
what you look like and what he did?"
"Tell," she growled. "Bad man hurt us."
"I'll tell them that," Ticker said. "They'll
lock him in a cage, hopefully forever."
The ripping snarl scared him, and
he pulled his hand out of reach.
"Good," said Giolla. She scratched
the floor as if burying stinkies.
"You said it," Ticker agreed.
"I'll leave you alone now.
I don't want to crowd you.
I know that people make
you feel nervous. Thanks
for talking to me, though."
Giolla butted him one last time,
then slunk back under the bed,
curling around herself to protect
whatever was left within.
Ticker let himself out, closing
the door softly behind him.
He needed to tell everyone else
that Giolla had come out and
cuddled him, and that she spoke.
He also had people to call,
and more news to watch.
If the Americans didn't
take care of Charlie, then
Ticker would do it himself.
* * *
Notes:
Ticker (Alroy Collins) -- He has fair skin with freckles, amber eyes, and short wavy red hair. He is tall and slim. He has numerous tattoos, including a melted clock over the back of his left hand, inspired by his Time Control gift. Ticker belongs to the branch of the IRA that is more-or-less precise in its use of terrorism to protest British dominion and bring justice where the courts won't. He is an ally of the Marionettes.
Origin: When Alroy was seventeen, his mother fell ill suddenly and was dying. There was no way to save her, and the family was scattered far and wide. His superpower manifested, buying enough time for the family to gather and say goodbye. Which was great until he passed out on the floor from overexertion, making everyone think they were about to lose another relative. They've never really relied on him knowing his own limits since then.
Uniform: Street clothes.
Qualities: Expert (+4) Revolutionary, Good (+2) Dexterity, Good (+2) Drinking Buddies, Good (+2) Spirited, Good (+2) Storyteller
Poor (-2) Nervous
Powers: Expert (+4) Time Control
Motivation: Irish freedom and reunification.
Giolla Seireadan (formerly called Pussy) -- She has pinkish-fair skin, amber eyes, and straight ginger hair that falls just below her ears. She has strongly feline features that include slitted eyes, pointed ears, sharp teeth, gray nosepad and lips, and thick nonretractable claws on her hands and feet. Her age is unknown but resembles that of a human girl in her mid-teens, so they're calling it 15 years. She lives in Patchwork Manor on the outskirts of Dublin, in the large dormitory room adjacent to the nurse's office, which used to be the counseling room.
Giolla was rescued from sexual slavery by some of her housemates, who believe that she was probably created for that purpose by a mad scientist. So far she has been unable and/or unwilling to connect with anyone else, but they refuse to give up. Her housemates take turns sitting with her while she snarls at them or hides under the bed, trying to show her that they're friendly. They don't even know her real name, if she has one. When they found her, she wore nothing but a collar that read Pussy. They cut it off and gave her a new name, but she doesn't answer to it. Her actual orientation(s), if any, remain unknown, having been obscured by sexual exploitation and presumed abusive/neglectful upbringing.
Origin: Mad science.
Uniform: Comfortable girl clothes. She gravitates to black when possible.
Qualities: Good (+2) Fast, Good (+2) Fierce, Good (+2) Sensual
Poor (-2) Dubh
Powers: Good (+2) Feline Features
She has the feline abilities of enhanced hearing, enhanced vision, bite/claw attack, balance, flexibility, jumping, and enhanced healing. And just to make things extra challenging, she only needs an hour or two of deep sleep per night, although she catnaps periodically through the day.
Vulnerability: Thus far, Giolla is stuck in feral mode. She behaves more like a cat than like a human -- pretty much the only human things she likes are clothes for the protection and more interesting food. She is violent in general and territorial in particular. She hisses and claws at anyone who comes near her. She is also strongly susceptible to catnip.
Motivation: Survival.
* * *
Cúirt Phíosála -- Patchwork Manor, or Patchwork Court
cuilt phíosála -- patchwork quilt
TORTHAÍ IN FOCLÓIR GAEILGE—BÉARLA
píosáil, v.t. (pres. -álann; vn. ~f, gs. -ála).Piece together, patch.
ABAIRTÍ IN FOCLÓIR GAEILGE—BÉARLA
obair
~ phaistí, phíosála, patchwork.
-- Foclóir Nua Béarla–Gaeilge
patchwork quilt
noun CRAFT, TEXT
cuilt phíosála
cuilt bhreac
-- New English-Irish Dictionary
cúirt, f. (gs. ~e, pl. ~eanna). 1. Court. (a)~rí, ríoga, royal court. (b)~bhreithiúnais, dlí, court of justice, of law. ~ achomhairc, court of appeal. ~ airm, court-martial. ~ bhréige, mock court, mock trial. ~ choiriúil, criminal court. ~ dlínse achoimre, court of summary jurisdiction. ~ éadála, prize-court. ~ ghearr, petty sessions. ~ íochtarach, lower court, court of first instance. ~ taifid, court of record. An ChúirtDúiche, Chuarda, Uachtarach, the District, Circuit, Supreme, Court. ~ a chur ardhuine, (i) to try s.o. in court, (ii) to sue s.o. Dul, teacht, os comhair ~e, to appear in court. ~ ina suí, court in session. I g~ iata, phoiblí, in camera, in open court.(c)~eaglasta, ecclesiastical court. ~ easpaig, episcopal court. (d)~ éigse, bardic court. (e) Cara, focal, sa chúirt, (backstairs) influence. 2. ~, teach ~e, courthouse. 3.Manor-house, mansion. Hist:~ bharúin, baronial court. 4. Courtyard. ~ caisleáin, the courtyard of a castle. 5. ~ imeartha, leadóige, playing-, tennis-, court.
-- Foclóir Nua Béarla–Gaeilge
See the exterior of Patchwork Manor and the basement floor plan.
On the first floor, the little circle beside the helipad is a teleport pad. The arrow points north, showing that the wide angles of the house are oriented east and west to catch the sunrise and sunset. The square office at the near end of the dance hall is a quiet room with insulated walls. The small kitchen and the small dining room adjacent to the salon are reserved for hypoallergenic foods and people with food allergies. The larger kitchen and dining room below them are for general dining.
On the second floor, Gaines Aldana, Diancecht "Dian" MacGillabrede, and their son Sein share the 2-bedroom apartment in the upper left. Jarlath MacNiadh and Nainsi Magorian have the matching apartment across the hall. Ticker has the big bedroom on the lower left with the private office. Dustbin (Edric Dewayne) has the bedroom next to Ticker's and the matching office. Gogarty has the bedroom next to Edric's room. Quaid (Kalen Rooney) and Tlachtga (Bairre O'Buachalla) share the bedroom in the upper middle between the staircases. Gormlaith (Muireann Mulryan) has the bedroom in the upper right. Bretta Terris has the room at the upper right of the dormitory, across from the nurse's station. Giolla Seireadan has the dormitory room adjacent to the nurse's station.
On the third floor, Silfra (Heidi Varanger) has the upper left bedroom, and her sister Eldrid (Hilda Varanger) has the upper right bedroom. Animesh "Ani" Paraiya has the lower left bedroom near the ping-pong table. Lalor (Marl O'Murdock) has the lower right bedroom.
"I grew to understand that people don’t always build walls to keep others out. There are times it is done out of necessity to protect whatever is left within."
-- Anonymous
Pile o'shite (n): terrible - something was so bad it was...
Snared rapid (v): caught doing something one shouldn't have been doing
Toe-rag (n): a useless bollix
Shook (a): looks very unwell e.g. "he looked shook"
Cat rubbing is called bunting and involves scent marking.
Stinky/Stinkies (n): shit
chuckles
Date: 2020-06-18 04:58 am (UTC)Re: chuckles
Date: 2020-06-18 05:14 am (UTC)Can you imagine the brawl that would break out with a supervillain trying to cut ahead in that line? Daaamn. Good thing we're avoiding that fracas.
Re: chuckles
Date: 2020-06-18 05:16 am (UTC)Meat grinder.
Re: chuckles
Date: 2020-06-18 05:18 am (UTC)Re: chuckles
Date: 2020-06-18 05:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-06-18 05:20 am (UTC)Thoughts
Date: 2020-06-18 05:25 am (UTC)Re: Thoughts
Date: 2020-06-18 07:02 pm (UTC)*smacks Bernhardt across the face* Ewww, dude. Again. :(
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Date: 2020-06-18 08:41 pm (UTC)It's fine. One of these days I'll get to that prompt. I'm open to it, just keep getting others from you that are tighter connected to plot points.
>> *smacks Bernhardt across the face* Ewww, dude. Again. :(
Somewhere out there, an enterprising street businessman has mocked up a rock'em dummy with Bernhardt's face on it, with a whole rack of comedy props like rubber chickens and fish for people to beat it with. The one of ethnic people beating it with shoes is popular on V'you. :D
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Date: 2020-06-18 09:56 am (UTC)and it sounds like Giolla (the girl) has withdrawn so far that Giolla (the cat) has taken over... with the result that you've got a personality that is feline dominant.
Hmm... Bernhardt was active for years, I wonder how many primals are the result of his work, either directly or descendants thereof? I mean, they could be onto 3rd gen by now...
Thoughts
Date: 2020-06-18 10:16 am (UTC)LOL tempting.
>> and it sounds like Giolla (the girl) has withdrawn so far that Giolla (the cat) has taken over... with the result that you've got a personality that is feline dominant.<<
Yeah. I'm not sure how much of that is genetic and how much is trauma, but acting human seems both difficult and unappealing for her. Given that the only people around were abusers for years, it's not an unreasonable response. I think this is the most interaction she's done yet.
>> Hmm... Bernhardt was active for years, I wonder how many primals are the result of his work, either directly or descendants thereof? I mean, they could be onto 3rd gen by now... <<
A lot. He's made batch after batch. The biggest source of primals, however, is zetetics -- people make something and it has that as a side effect. Bernhardt made at least two that I know of:
Gate-R -- a psychoactive drug that reduces feelings of shame, guilt, and anxiety so people just don't care about what's wrong in their lives. It tends to cause scar tissue inside blood vessels, and can literally make people's arms and legs rot off, but it also does enough nerve damage that they don't always feel it. Occasionally it causes people to develop patches of scaly alligator skin or other reptilian traits. Carl Bernhardt was involved in creating a number of street drugs based in part on animals, including Gate-R.
Hopp-R -- a zetetic street drug intended to cause intense sexual arousal, which works on both sexes. Unfortunately, it has a variety of dangerous side effects, such as allergic and autoimmune reactions. It can damage the heart, sexual organs, and several important glands. It also causes some people to manifest animal traits. The vast majority of those come from domestic animals used to create the drug such as rabbits, sheep, and cows. However, some others such as cats, dogs, and wild animals have been reported. Most manifestations happen to the user, but it also raises the chance of giving birth to an infant with animal traits. Hopp-R was invented by Carl Bernhardt.
However, there are also cases involving products for penis enhancement, male performance (horses, goats), breast enhancement (cows), female performance (cats, sheep, goats, rabbits), speed (cheetahs, horses, rabbits), strength (cows, horses), and so on that cause animal traits to manifest. I would not be surprised if Bernhardt has made more products in some of those areas.
So if we count the Z-drug conversions, he's responsible for quite a significant portion of primal soups.
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2020-06-18 10:24 am (UTC)Yup.. he's got a LOT to answer for.
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2020-06-18 10:59 am (UTC)Yyyyyyeah. I hadn't thought of that. He's put a lot of effort into developing sex drugs -- for profit, to make breeding easier, and to create more effective sex slaves. It lays a wide foundation if other people want to build on that.
Trouble is, he's more than a bit of a kludge. He can make things work, even things that probably shouldn't, but the results are just ugly on a technical level. There's no elegance. Every one of his surviving victims seems to have some sort of physical issue, often mystical issues, on top of the PDSD from mad science torture. I can't imagine his chemistry skill is much better than his gengineering. He cares more about getting the job done than doing it well. >_< Hence the ghastly side effects in Gate-R and Hopp-R. Knock-offs are unlikely to be higher quality.
So now it's everyone's problem.
Anyhow, feel free to prompt for more of this if you wish. It's an interesting issue because the survivors in Turq's cohort and the centaurs have decided to destroy all of his research that isn't specifically relevant as invalid. They'll keep the notes about themselves and other surviving victims, but not all-dead cohorts unrelated to survivors, for instance. They'll probably keep notes about his released drugs but not those in development. And they'll have to talk about that, because the survivors will want information about themselves but probably won't think about the drugs until someone else raises that point.
Yup.. he's got a LOT to answer for.
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Date: 2020-06-18 05:04 pm (UTC)Are there ever any examples of Primal soups starting as animals and gaining human traits?
Thoughts
Date: 2020-06-18 08:29 pm (UTC)Yeah.
>> Are there ever any examples of Primal soups starting as animals and gaining human traits? <<
A few, but it's much rarer in that direction. The reason is that there are many products made from animals used by, on, or in humans; whereas there are almost none made with human components used on animals. A large percentage of primal soups come from things like penile enhancement products made from goats, or Gate-R with its reptilian bits. We're left with:
* environmental transference (sort of like jumping genes) which can go either way
* convergent evolution (e.g. dogs developed expressive eyebrow muscles like humans have, that wild canids lack)
* genetic engineering (probably the largest portion, but most of those are "blends" in which the direction is not so clear-cut)
* higher power intervention (e.g. stories about ancient Greek centaurs created by gods)
* random mutation (e.g. paws to hands)
And then you have to account for whether a given trait comes from humans or merely mimics something that humans also have. Is speech always a human trait? No, some animals have rudimentary versions, and it's possible cetaceans are just as loquacious as humans but in ways we can't parse. If an animal talks, is it because thon is squeezing human sounds through standard nonhuman anatomy, or nonhuman anatomy modified solely from its own base in some way, or because human genes were actually added to it?
Judd has slight variations from equine standard, but as far as I know, does not have human DNA. His intelligence is much closer to human than horse, but he doesn't think like a human, he thinks like a horse. So I would bet on his brain looking like a more complicated horse brain, rather than closely resembling a human brain.
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2020-06-18 09:48 pm (UTC)I was more thinking: Is it possible Dr. Moreau decided to try for an uplifted slave (versus an animal-spliced human), on the logic that they'd be more docile?
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Date: 2020-06-18 09:58 pm (UTC)Depends on the model, but they're smart enough to communicate if you give them a method they can use. Dolphins have managed to communicate with lights, buzzers, simple touchboards, etc. Hell, horses can all learn to communicate blanket on, no change, or blanket off based on weather.
The main limitation with dolphin-human communication is that humans expect dolphins to do all the accommodating, instead of looking for common ground. Teaching them human speech was doomed (although the subject did learn to say "ball" sort of). The limitation of a speechboard is that dolphins don't use vision the same as humans do. We'd be better off using a board with different textures and materials that would sound different to echolocation. Frex, experiments with bats use targets of different shape or density.
But there's a much easier way: Morse code. Dolphins click; it's a simple matter to teach a click-code. The problem is that once they get the hang of it, they're likely to talk WAY faster than most humans can parse without equipment. Hence the Morse-enabled T-Maldivian seaphone that translates between humans and cetaceans. You type in the top end, the underwater speaker clicks out the message, the cetacean clicks back, and you get a text response.
>>I was more thinking: Is it possible Dr. Moreau decided to try for an uplifted slave (versus an animal-spliced human), on the logic that they'd be more docile?<<
Yes. And that's why Carl Bernhardt has shifted more toward domestic animals. Too many of the mystic shifters escaped. The centaurs are mostly more docile and tighter herd-bonded.
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Date: 2020-06-19 12:10 am (UTC)Well ...
Date: 2020-06-19 12:38 am (UTC)Re: Well ...
Date: 2020-06-19 07:31 pm (UTC)Re: Well ...
Date: 2020-06-19 08:07 pm (UTC)Re: Well ...
Date: 2020-06-19 07:45 pm (UTC)Re: Well ...
From:(no subject)
Date: 2020-06-19 08:17 am (UTC)Give my thanks to your parents :)
~Angel
Yay!
Date: 2020-06-19 09:36 am (UTC)