Post by Simone Haagen on Mar 6, 2012 9:01:56 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,475,true] [atrb=height,380,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #000000; border-top-left-radius:4em; -moz-border-radius-topleft:4em; height: 350px; width: 125px; border-top: 2px solid #C7A317; border-left: 2px solid #C7A317; border-bottom: 2px solid #C7A317] [style=border: 5px solid #C7A317; width: 100px; background-color: #C7A317; border-top-left-radius:1em; -moz-border-radius-topleft:1em]  [/style] | [atrb=style, background-color: #000000; height: 360px; border-top: 2px solid #C7A317; border-right: 2px solid #C7A317; border-bottom: 2px solid #C7A317; width: 350px; border-bottom-right-radius:4em; -moz-border-radius-bottomright:4em;][style=border-bottom: 10px solid #C7A317; color: #EBEBEB; font-size: 15px; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: -2px; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; line-height: 11px; text-align: right; width: 325px; margin-top: 8px; padding-right: 10px; text-shadow: #080808 5px 1px 1px;]remember this feeling, how it feels to be alive[/style] [style=padding: 20px; overflow: auto; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10px; color: #FFF380; height: 290px; width: 295px; background-color: #595454]This was not a war. This was no separatist attempt to track down what was right and mutilate those which defiled that righteousness. To some, such matters stood clear and tall as a black-and-white battle that declared need for sentinel, rebellion, mediocre tactics to blow out an enemy that needed no ammunition or fire-arms. And yet- it was all so simple. For beings to break down and destroy that which they could never truly understand, well, that would be means of human nature. That was all too blatant. Really, it could all be thrown to the real purpose. Experimentation. The means of all creation and life could always be explained in strict, scientific understanding. Man wanted to exterminate the lives of the mutated? No. They simply wished to have control until they, too, would be able to harness such power. Natural selection merely could not take balance until they were the naturally selected, and the powerful always gained such selection. Until then, the numbers had to satiate the odds. And it all had very little to do with Simone's reasoning behind his work. The brawn wanted a way to be strong, but what they failed to realized was exactly what made these mutant beings so... different. Certainly, they were "powerful", but not typically in the frame of body. It was the genetic compound that brought them ahead in their stance in nature. And it was Simone's job to break all of it down. And, truly, it was all too fascinating. The science that went into his job both helped him to create new and enhanced beings and also helped him to learn more about his own line of work. Each day brought him a bit closer to exacting something that very few professors in his field could do. Genetic splicing. Not only could this science help with the war, but it would also prove to later be used as a cure against some of the worlds worst diseases and disfigurements. By extracting one fragment of DNA, preferably a dominant genetic protein, one person's traits could be transferred, or even overtly planted, into another's system. A woman with the compound of B (where as the b stands for a brunette gene) and bl (where as bl stands for blonde), could actually be given the dominant gene for a red pigmented coloration, depleting the parental host of brunette and blonde, changing the woman's hair coloring straight from the root. And of course, such an example was merely.. "small talk", to put simplistically. In correspondence with his current line of work, the young man was currently working on configuring the elemental changes within a person that was able to grow hardened and dangerous claws over his own finger-nails. And though the idea was simple enough, the compositions to recreate the same genetic mutation were proving to be more.... complicated. Some strand of acute bio-metric RNA had altered to take the keratin, extend it into the tissues of the woman's fingers, create a stretched cavern over the bone, and duplicate the keratin's proteins enough to mass-produce the sulfur (without harming the inner-lining of the female's muscular structure, mind you) and create an even stronger density, powerful enough to break through cartilage, bone, and even put scratches in metal. But what was it that made this specific modification to the human genome possible? Why did this particular human being grow to obtain this particular modification? He simply could not wrap his cranium around it. His mask was covered in red sludge, white gloves stained by a gruesome scientific necessities, and yet... whenever he carved into the caverned layer of keratin with his vibrating saw-blade, the scent of sulfur stung round his nostrils, made a soft hissing ring at his ears, and began to recompose before his very eyes. The fingers had been torn asunder, split and spread around the focused area. The body was no longer in service.. and yet, this one outstanding feature would not stop "attacking", so to speak. True, after the initial state of rigor mortis went through and then passed, the body relaxed, making certain functions almost eerily open to growth: fingernails grew several centimeters, hair grew, excrement forced its way out, and fluids caused bloating in the stomach. But this shredding and sudden re-growth... it was absolutely astounding. And even though such a power seemed to have a random host selection, it was nothing of the sort. This gift was no random selection. As shown by the extreme care that the woman gave to the keratin at her toes, it seemed that, even with the genetic alteration that the mutation caused, her nails were kept. She took care of them... The mutation not only altered her genetic stance.. it altered to fit her personae. And this was not the first time that Simone had come to such conclusions in his studies. Those with manipulations of the brain showed higher levels of intelligence. People that could multiply and duplicate their appearances were shown to have disorders of schizophrenia, bi-polar, or multiple personality. There was something substantial about the people that took on these different genetic codes. Something... beautiful. "Dit you know.." he began, creeping down next to his dead friend, lips oddly close to her ear, curving into a perky grin, "thet you are doink something very speecial for schientific explorachion?" His words came out a bit louder than he really meant them to, due mainly to his German accent and inability to really control the levels of his vocal chords. In lieu of his lonely companions response, he merely grinned, large eyes meandering over her exposed form, concentrating on certain aspects of her frame that caught his attention. No, he did not gander at unmentionables, but stared at the gorgeous mechanics of her hands, broken and torn. He loved how the exposed innards of the homo-sapien composition shined, even in dimmed lighting. Truly, the external flesh of the body was gorgeous in its own rights... but the fibers that made that body tick, tock, walk, breathe, see, hear, digest nutrients.. they made something in his own cardiac muscle flutter and speed. Luckily for him, no one was ever usually around to see him in such a state, his brain riddling with unnatural thoughts (despite how oddly natural they seemed). Slowly, he moved to place his cracked lips over the cold petals of his specimen's mouth, breathing out a gentle sigh of life to her, as she could not do the same. His eyelids fluttered in the slightest, cheeks heating warm and red as he grew flushed with his straight-forward actions. He hardly knew this woman.. and yet, he was sharing something so sweet and intimate. With a swift lift of his head, he gave her a gentle apology for his forwardness... then simply picked up his saw and went back to cutting away at her fingers, slicing centimeter by centimeter off to find where the sulfuric lining stopped. [/style] [style=border-bottom: 5px solid #C7A317; color: #EBEBEB; font-size: 14px; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: -2px; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; line-height: 11px; text-align: right; width: 323px; margin-top: -16px; padding-right: 12px; text-shadow: #080808 5px 1px 1px;]you can't break the broken,[/style][style=padding-right: 20px; padding-left: 20px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; overflow: auto; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9px; color: #FFF380; height: 55px; width: 295px; background-color: #4E4848]TAGGED: Open. WORD COUNT: 1156 NOTES: To anyone who might take this thread, I apologize for the odd contents. Just, err... bare with me. Haha. [/style] |
