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Merry Christmas!
Posted 5 years agoObligatory Christmas journal here!
Hopefully we can end this year without too much death, panic and disease so stay safe and eat until your belly is full! Paty
Posted 5 years agoDon't wanna be that person, but in my personal opinion I haven't seen anyone address this horrendous act of criminal insanity that happened in Paris. For showing cartoons, as a teacher, of the prophet "he who shall not be named", he was decapitated by a student who took offense to that.
Silence can be deafening and my god is it dead silent in here. Again, in my personal opinion. I could have missed a thing here or there...
To those that did speak out, whether Muslim or other, thank you. This act of brutality should be condemned from all points of view. It gives Muslims a bad name and gives the rest a bad impression of said Muslims.
I may always have been teasing the French for their garlic and escargot addiction but always to tease. #JesuisPaty
Silence can be deafening and my god is it dead silent in here. Again, in my personal opinion. I could have missed a thing here or there...
To those that did speak out, whether Muslim or other, thank you. This act of brutality should be condemned from all points of view. It gives Muslims a bad name and gives the rest a bad impression of said Muslims.
I may always have been teasing the French for their garlic and escargot addiction but always to tease. #JesuisPaty
5 Years
Posted 5 years ago5 years ago 
Khyrra made a terrible mistake and said yes to me. From that point on our relationship grew and grew until she was finally able to make the journey to the Netherlands on the 11th of February 2020 and live with me. I couldn't be any happier with her if I tried... but damn time goes by fast! Guess that is what happens when you are having fun~
Find yourself someone like Khyrra. You will not regret it :3
Khyrra made a terrible mistake and said yes to me. From that point on our relationship grew and grew until she was finally able to make the journey to the Netherlands on the 11th of February 2020 and live with me. I couldn't be any happier with her if I tried... but damn time goes by fast! Guess that is what happens when you are having fun~Find yourself someone like
Khyrra. You will not regret it :3INPUT REQUIRED!
Posted 5 years agoI'm looking for some input regarding potential characters for Roxy to cosplay as. Helpful souls like 
phynix_cdn and 
Zintarloc have already done a few and require MOAR!
So if you are feeling generous, lemme know one or multiple examples. Thank you in advance :)
phynix_cdn and 
Zintarloc have already done a few and require MOAR!So if you are feeling generous, lemme know one or multiple examples. Thank you in advance :)
Engaged!
Posted 5 years agoThis very morning, around 11:00, I asked 
Alyah the big question. Aka will you marry me? Luckily the choice on her part was easy and she said yes!
So we are engaged now and I couldn't be happier!
Alyah the big question. Aka will you marry me? Luckily the choice on her part was easy and she said yes!So we are engaged now and I couldn't be happier!
The highest of HONOR
Posted 5 years agoIs absolutely getting called a cheater by some salty boi on War Thunder because they are clearly outmatched but they just can't admit it. So they throw harsh language your way. The highest honor that can be bestowed upon thee is the title of "Cheater" cuz you are just that good. :)
Sorry for the shitpost :P
Sorry for the shitpost :P
11th of February
Posted 6 years ago Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah AlyahAlyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah
Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah Alyah
If you didn't get it already, she's finally coming on the 11th of February :3
HAPPY 2020!
Posted 6 years agoThe almost obligatory journal to wish everyone a good and healthy 2020. In all seriousness, thank you all so much for the likes and watches! :3
4-year anniversary!
Posted 6 years agoHot damn! Been that long since I got a positive response from Alyah to engage in a relationship. A lot has happened since. Been to Portugal, made friends, lost friends, switched jobs, got 2 degrees and a new rental apartment. Now just waiting on permission from the Dutch government to get my sweet birb to come live with me and be assimilated under the correct usage of the red, white and blue.
And it is our 4 year anniversary! The next one will be celebrated with me obviously but for now there remains a distance. SOOOOOOOOOOOOON!
Also perhaps soon, she might come back to FA. New design of Alyah in mind. So I lewd with her again
Alyah to engage in a relationship. A lot has happened since. Been to Portugal, made friends, lost friends, switched jobs, got 2 degrees and a new rental apartment. Now just waiting on permission from the Dutch government to get my sweet birb to come live with me and be assimilated under the correct usage of the red, white and blue.And it is our 4 year anniversary! The next one will be celebrated with me obviously but for now there remains a distance. SOOOOOOOOOOOOON!
Also perhaps soon, she might come back to FA. New design of Alyah in mind. So I lewd with her again
Project Scorpion Day 25
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "Kill" by H̷e̸a̴d̵ R̶̫̄ĕ̸͍s̵̨͒e̶͕̿a̵͓͂r̶̨̽c̴͇̔h̴̰̉ẽ̶̘r̷̲͐ R. Dillinger
Roxanne. Roxanne Hollister. That is her name. That is the name of the subject, the source of the "liquid" that was supposed to generate the medicine. Fuck... I might as well come clean right away. I saw her twitch just now. I've been hearing nothing but bad things coming from the table.
This project was set up to create a vaccination against pretty much every tough disease there is. Given that this mutation Roxanne has, is currently the most deadly. However, it has not consumed her completely. I have seen what it looks like when fully mutated and that is unlike anything I have ever seen. They turn into insects, spiders and other creepy crawlies. And not just organic life forms, but machinery as well. Turns out, this is a parasitic species that can assimilate both living beings and machinery. Turning them into a hive-mind driven race covered in a crystallized, purple skin. They are known... as Aparoids. What an incredible discovery! And Roxanne is at least partially immune to this!
Now I understand the way Newman was thinking. If we can get the substance from Roxanne's body that actively destroys or prevents the process, why would it not work on other diseases as well? I can imagine the headlines already... and so could Newman I presume. But when the miracle product did not show up in time, I figured some wires in his brain got a little tangled. It didn't. Newman did have something personal against Roxanne. He must have had this theory for a long time because they met before but she refused to participate in any experimentation. So he just took her. Like an object to be studied upon. And I was his instrument.
Between the blissful moments of silence in the lab, I have seen her foam at the mouth, shriek like a banshee, bellow like a beast and curse as often as possible. The words usually involving Newman in some form. She must be in so much pain. And there is no way to numb it because there is no more anesthetic. I'm... starting to feel her pain. I'm feeling the weight of everything I participated in crash down on top of me. It won't be long until that feeling is no longer just emotional, but psychical too. But you know what... in some sort of weird way, I'm proud of what I tried to do.
I did not go into this project thinking about experimenting on some poor woman for my own sick curiosity. I was genuinely trying to help everyone with creating the ultimate vaccine. But I was a pawn in a scheme where I not no know how of. At least, not until it was too late. Newman created a monster when he did not get his way, preferring outright killing over noble healing. But this pawn wasn't going to let him just do that. In a moment of complete apathy, I walked over to the table, grabbed a scalpel and held it against Roxanne's neck. Every fiber in my body was telling me to push, to break the skin, slit it open and be done with it. Then her eyes opened. Her pupils were enlarged and her sclera was red. She looked me dead in the eye and managed to grab my lab coat with her enormous mutated arm. A small tug was enough to make me drop the scalpel before I received a nice big blob of spit in my face coming for her. She still had fight left in her and above all, a consciousness. She knew who she was still.
She did... even the worst of conditions, she still knew who she was. What she stood for and what she wanted to do. For me, it was looking into a mirror universe. I felt like I had so much more to lose but here is she is fighting for herself. And I won't even fight for my family, let alone myself. I removed the straps that held her in place and went back to my chair at my desk. Attempting to once again get past the server. And finally I managed to do that. Right now... day 25 of the project.
I'm dead tired, I'm famished, I'm dirty and I'm alone. And if I think about it, I'm proud of what I did. Undoing her straps, freeing whenever she would see fit? The best decision I ever made since marrying my beautiful wife Alexis. And getting two little parasites with her as well. Heh... parasites. How fitting given the circumstances. The parasite currently with me? It seems to have won the battle against Roxanne. I have seen the horns on her right arm grow and mold with each other, creating a scythe. Her right eye has been completely engulfed in purple crystals and her right arm? It could be even taller than me at this point. The twitching and spasming has stopped. I think the process is complete. Newman has her monster...
...
...
...
Or... maybe not? I just went by to check on her. Her one working looked at me again. She tried to lift her hand and open her mouth but she looked weaker then before. Not that she is dying but she is not aggressive towards me. If the Aparoid parasite had completely overtaken her, then she would be all over me in the worst way. I think there is still Roxanne in there. I don't know her, but she knows Newman. And hates his guts. So do I...
Day 25Roxanne. Roxanne Hollister. That is her name. That is the name of the subject, the source of the "liquid" that was supposed to generate the medicine. Fuck... I might as well come clean right away. I saw her twitch just now. I've been hearing nothing but bad things coming from the table.
This project was set up to create a vaccination against pretty much every tough disease there is. Given that this mutation Roxanne has, is currently the most deadly. However, it has not consumed her completely. I have seen what it looks like when fully mutated and that is unlike anything I have ever seen. They turn into insects, spiders and other creepy crawlies. And not just organic life forms, but machinery as well. Turns out, this is a parasitic species that can assimilate both living beings and machinery. Turning them into a hive-mind driven race covered in a crystallized, purple skin. They are known... as Aparoids. What an incredible discovery! And Roxanne is at least partially immune to this!
Now I understand the way Newman was thinking. If we can get the substance from Roxanne's body that actively destroys or prevents the process, why would it not work on other diseases as well? I can imagine the headlines already... and so could Newman I presume. But when the miracle product did not show up in time, I figured some wires in his brain got a little tangled. It didn't. Newman did have something personal against Roxanne. He must have had this theory for a long time because they met before but she refused to participate in any experimentation. So he just took her. Like an object to be studied upon. And I was his instrument.
Between the blissful moments of silence in the lab, I have seen her foam at the mouth, shriek like a banshee, bellow like a beast and curse as often as possible. The words usually involving Newman in some form. She must be in so much pain. And there is no way to numb it because there is no more anesthetic. I'm... starting to feel her pain. I'm feeling the weight of everything I participated in crash down on top of me. It won't be long until that feeling is no longer just emotional, but psychical too. But you know what... in some sort of weird way, I'm proud of what I tried to do.
I did not go into this project thinking about experimenting on some poor woman for my own sick curiosity. I was genuinely trying to help everyone with creating the ultimate vaccine. But I was a pawn in a scheme where I not no know how of. At least, not until it was too late. Newman created a monster when he did not get his way, preferring outright killing over noble healing. But this pawn wasn't going to let him just do that. In a moment of complete apathy, I walked over to the table, grabbed a scalpel and held it against Roxanne's neck. Every fiber in my body was telling me to push, to break the skin, slit it open and be done with it. Then her eyes opened. Her pupils were enlarged and her sclera was red. She looked me dead in the eye and managed to grab my lab coat with her enormous mutated arm. A small tug was enough to make me drop the scalpel before I received a nice big blob of spit in my face coming for her. She still had fight left in her and above all, a consciousness. She knew who she was still.
She did... even the worst of conditions, she still knew who she was. What she stood for and what she wanted to do. For me, it was looking into a mirror universe. I felt like I had so much more to lose but here is she is fighting for herself. And I won't even fight for my family, let alone myself. I removed the straps that held her in place and went back to my chair at my desk. Attempting to once again get past the server. And finally I managed to do that. Right now... day 25 of the project.
I'm dead tired, I'm famished, I'm dirty and I'm alone. And if I think about it, I'm proud of what I did. Undoing her straps, freeing whenever she would see fit? The best decision I ever made since marrying my beautiful wife Alexis. And getting two little parasites with her as well. Heh... parasites. How fitting given the circumstances. The parasite currently with me? It seems to have won the battle against Roxanne. I have seen the horns on her right arm grow and mold with each other, creating a scythe. Her right eye has been completely engulfed in purple crystals and her right arm? It could be even taller than me at this point. The twitching and spasming has stopped. I think the process is complete. Newman has her monster...
...
...
...
Or... maybe not? I just went by to check on her. Her one working looked at me again. She tried to lift her hand and open her mouth but she looked weaker then before. Not that she is dying but she is not aggressive towards me. If the Aparoid parasite had completely overtaken her, then she would be all over me in the worst way. I think there is still Roxanne in there. I don't know her, but she knows Newman. And hates his guts. So do I...
Project Scorpion Day 22
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "Letting go" by Head Researcher ██. ███████
2 days. F... I want to curse so bad. 2 days! 2 days of nothing more then recycling through that goddamn machine. Watching the subject in agony every time blood was drained. I could only watch it suffer as everyone else pretended to be busy. And the meatheads? Oh those left after the first day. Clearly the threat was no longer real. I'm gonna miss their startling appearance and forward, cheerful personalities.
I saw it twitch, growl, whine, shrink and spasm but I couldn't do anything. It felt like watching an animal slowly die but fighting against it with all its might. At 12:15, I called it quits. I stood up from my seat and turned off the machine. By that point it has recycled through about 14 liters of blood, more than we were told it was programmed for. I don't even want to think about the reasoning behind this. With a heavy sigh, the subject calmed down. But it was not a very thankful noise...
All was silent around me. Not because my head was aching, but because everyone else did not expect me to do this. I saw the disbelief on their faces. I saw images of futures they had, crumble right before them. But I could not care less. I did what I felt was right. "The torture is over". That is what I said. I repeated it again just so I could believe it myself. I sat down, had my head bowed down and did nothing but breathe. I must have sat their for about 30 minutes or so. In the meantime, I noticed most of the junior researchers quickly leave, not wanting to be associated with me. I went against Newman and given that most of the juniors were hired by him, I can understand why they would leave. If I hang, so would they. My concoction worked a bit too well. To add to that, several senior researchers, some of whom I knew for years, took off too. Only 3 colleagues stayed around. Someone close, the researcher who had a broken nose and one junior.
"And then there were 4..." I sighed as the door closed behind the last person running with their tail between their legs. I thought nothing more then that they were spineless cowards. Sadness and discontempt, paved the way for anger. I completely removed all of the injections from the specimen except the ones monitoring and sedating her... I mean it... I mean her! I'm not longer using the term according to protocol. I already broke it so what the hell.
Around 14:00, when the colleagues that stayed behind were outside of the lab somewhere, I looked up at the doors. As if I knew doom was behind it. And then they opened... Newman came through with the meatheads from before. This time, carrying less ridiculous but definitely more deadly weapons. He looked calm, if a bit ticked off upon noticing the machine. As if I was blind to the possibility of being riddled with bullets, I shot up from my seat and confronted Newman. I screamed at him, demanding to know what he put me up to. Why all of his ways of extract the "essential ingredient" for the medicine were all so painful to the subject. Newman stopped and tilted his head to the side with a slightly confused expression. It was quickly replaced by a smile and a chuckle before ordering one of the meathead to constrain me with a simple gesture. I tried to resist but I was no match.
Newman began telling me that he thought that we had a deal. But that he also knew I wouldn't have the guts to go through with it. Then, he stopped and quickly jogged over to the machine that I had turned off. He heard him exclaim "Yes!" before he jogged back over. He was holding the small bit of blood that was still in the recycler. He then thanked me for not cleaning out the machine and leaving this in. "With this, I can make it worse." he muttered to himself, just loud enough so I could hear it too. "If the blood doesn't come to me, I make sure it has no other choice." From the coat he was wearing, he grabbed a syringe which was filled with thick purple and black substance. And began to pour it into the blood. It became a horrible brown goop; the exact same color as I saw only days ago. "I am going to make the infection worse. I will force that bitch to give me exactly what I want. And if that doesn't work... there's always money in biological weapons. Especially in something as versatile as you darling." He walked over to the subject and took off the cover we put over her. Like a creep, he stared at every part of her.
"If my friend is not going to administer the goods, I will." Without any emotion or remorse, he put the little storage box back into the recycler, attached one injection back on and then flipped the switch. With the familiar noise, the machine restarted and began to put the contaminated blood into his veins. Once that was done, he turned it off. Newman put his hands behind his back and stood there proud for a few moments. The meathead let me go but gave me a good rifle butt to the back of my head. It was a surprise I did not faint.
"I'm letting you go my friend. Enjoy your last few moments together." Newman taunted at my presumably unconscious self before leaving the lab and closing the door behind him. A loud noise signaled the triggering of the alarm. It was brief, but the door was locked. There was no way out for me anymore. Newman is going to deal with the people that stood by me, I'm sure of it.
And that's... why I'm now still at the lab. I can only count down the minutes until something happens. So far there's no movements from her... but I did find something very interesting. I found her information but I can't load the pages because of the server that Newman obviously controls. I can't do anything on social media either; everything is blocked. I need to find a way around that block. If I'm going down, I'm taking that asshole with me.
Day 22:2 days. F... I want to curse so bad. 2 days! 2 days of nothing more then recycling through that goddamn machine. Watching the subject in agony every time blood was drained. I could only watch it suffer as everyone else pretended to be busy. And the meatheads? Oh those left after the first day. Clearly the threat was no longer real. I'm gonna miss their startling appearance and forward, cheerful personalities.
I saw it twitch, growl, whine, shrink and spasm but I couldn't do anything. It felt like watching an animal slowly die but fighting against it with all its might. At 12:15, I called it quits. I stood up from my seat and turned off the machine. By that point it has recycled through about 14 liters of blood, more than we were told it was programmed for. I don't even want to think about the reasoning behind this. With a heavy sigh, the subject calmed down. But it was not a very thankful noise...
All was silent around me. Not because my head was aching, but because everyone else did not expect me to do this. I saw the disbelief on their faces. I saw images of futures they had, crumble right before them. But I could not care less. I did what I felt was right. "The torture is over". That is what I said. I repeated it again just so I could believe it myself. I sat down, had my head bowed down and did nothing but breathe. I must have sat their for about 30 minutes or so. In the meantime, I noticed most of the junior researchers quickly leave, not wanting to be associated with me. I went against Newman and given that most of the juniors were hired by him, I can understand why they would leave. If I hang, so would they. My concoction worked a bit too well. To add to that, several senior researchers, some of whom I knew for years, took off too. Only 3 colleagues stayed around. Someone close, the researcher who had a broken nose and one junior.
"And then there were 4..." I sighed as the door closed behind the last person running with their tail between their legs. I thought nothing more then that they were spineless cowards. Sadness and discontempt, paved the way for anger. I completely removed all of the injections from the specimen except the ones monitoring and sedating her... I mean it... I mean her! I'm not longer using the term according to protocol. I already broke it so what the hell.
Around 14:00, when the colleagues that stayed behind were outside of the lab somewhere, I looked up at the doors. As if I knew doom was behind it. And then they opened... Newman came through with the meatheads from before. This time, carrying less ridiculous but definitely more deadly weapons. He looked calm, if a bit ticked off upon noticing the machine. As if I was blind to the possibility of being riddled with bullets, I shot up from my seat and confronted Newman. I screamed at him, demanding to know what he put me up to. Why all of his ways of extract the "essential ingredient" for the medicine were all so painful to the subject. Newman stopped and tilted his head to the side with a slightly confused expression. It was quickly replaced by a smile and a chuckle before ordering one of the meathead to constrain me with a simple gesture. I tried to resist but I was no match.
Newman began telling me that he thought that we had a deal. But that he also knew I wouldn't have the guts to go through with it. Then, he stopped and quickly jogged over to the machine that I had turned off. He heard him exclaim "Yes!" before he jogged back over. He was holding the small bit of blood that was still in the recycler. He then thanked me for not cleaning out the machine and leaving this in. "With this, I can make it worse." he muttered to himself, just loud enough so I could hear it too. "If the blood doesn't come to me, I make sure it has no other choice." From the coat he was wearing, he grabbed a syringe which was filled with thick purple and black substance. And began to pour it into the blood. It became a horrible brown goop; the exact same color as I saw only days ago. "I am going to make the infection worse. I will force that bitch to give me exactly what I want. And if that doesn't work... there's always money in biological weapons. Especially in something as versatile as you darling." He walked over to the subject and took off the cover we put over her. Like a creep, he stared at every part of her.
"If my friend is not going to administer the goods, I will." Without any emotion or remorse, he put the little storage box back into the recycler, attached one injection back on and then flipped the switch. With the familiar noise, the machine restarted and began to put the contaminated blood into his veins. Once that was done, he turned it off. Newman put his hands behind his back and stood there proud for a few moments. The meathead let me go but gave me a good rifle butt to the back of my head. It was a surprise I did not faint.
"I'm letting you go my friend. Enjoy your last few moments together." Newman taunted at my presumably unconscious self before leaving the lab and closing the door behind him. A loud noise signaled the triggering of the alarm. It was brief, but the door was locked. There was no way out for me anymore. Newman is going to deal with the people that stood by me, I'm sure of it.
And that's... why I'm now still at the lab. I can only count down the minutes until something happens. So far there's no movements from her... but I did find something very interesting. I found her information but I can't load the pages because of the server that Newman obviously controls. I can't do anything on social media either; everything is blocked. I need to find a way around that block. If I'm going down, I'm taking that asshole with me.
Project Scorpion Day 20
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "Recycling" by Head Researcher ██. ███████
I really don't know what to say. I got a really... REALLY stern email from Newman. It basically said "do what I want without delay or else". Pretty clear what he means by that.
Of course I wasn't going to tell the others. If they knew about my situation, they would instantly bail. So I concocted a fabrication of the email, saying that if the machine wasn't turned on today, we'd all hang. And even with the need to feed families and themselves, this was sour. I think upon hearing my lie, we all looked over to the specimen. It had not moved an inch since yesterday, expect when it was breathing. We all dreaded going near it, especially Dupois, the female researcher who caught a back-handed smack on her nose, breaking it in several places. She was fine for the most part but did not fancy coming any closer then throwing distance.
Given that I'm the head researcher, they left the honors of turning on the machine to me and myself. When I walked over, the doors to the lab opened up behind me; two guards walked in. They were dressed in normal security guard outfits but with extra body armor worn on top of their outfit. The weapons they were carrying were massive and imposing but were no threat to us. The meatheads ignored everyone but me as they stood at attention before me after they marched in. Almost a shame they did not salute me.
They explained quite loud that they were sent as part of an extra security measure by Newman. In case another violent outburst of the specimen were to take place. I asked them if they were going to blow the specimen and the rest of the lab up if they opened fire with the concrete blocks they were carrying. I made one of them chuckle a little. The other gave a reply like a broken answering machine; "These weapons are for non-lethal electric shocks only!" whereupon they both walked to the opposite sides of the room and barely moved from that point on. Like poles made out of muscle, meat and big chunky boots.
When the promo was over, I went back to the machine. It had been dubbed "the Recycler" by some junior researchers. And while recycling in any other scenario would be very nice, not in this case. I did not bother to remove the cover we put on the specimen yesterday, I just looked at it's face and clearly remember the horrible scream it uttered yesterday. I shook the images of and turned the machine on. Under my breath I apologized but no one else heard it.
The machine sounded like a diesel locomotive and was shaking like crazy. I took several steps back in case it would collapse and turn into god knows what. But after moments of sputtering, the machine started working. As the blood began to be drained, slowly but surely going up into the pipes, we could see the heart rate of the specimen go up. Its muscles were getting tense; the specimen was in pain again. I decided to look away and instructed the rest of the team to do the exact same. Until the machine was finished, we would not look towards it. For our own good. Although I did give it some glances from time to time.
I do not know for how long the machine will go on. The analysis of the drained blood takes a while and the draining process itself is dragged out way longer then it should be. Only reinforcing that Newman had something personal going on with the specimen. What is it? I'm beginning to wonder if someone or something is trying to keep me from thinking and just do what I was brought in for... the medicine.
Day 20:I really don't know what to say. I got a really... REALLY stern email from Newman. It basically said "do what I want without delay or else". Pretty clear what he means by that.
Of course I wasn't going to tell the others. If they knew about my situation, they would instantly bail. So I concocted a fabrication of the email, saying that if the machine wasn't turned on today, we'd all hang. And even with the need to feed families and themselves, this was sour. I think upon hearing my lie, we all looked over to the specimen. It had not moved an inch since yesterday, expect when it was breathing. We all dreaded going near it, especially Dupois, the female researcher who caught a back-handed smack on her nose, breaking it in several places. She was fine for the most part but did not fancy coming any closer then throwing distance.
Given that I'm the head researcher, they left the honors of turning on the machine to me and myself. When I walked over, the doors to the lab opened up behind me; two guards walked in. They were dressed in normal security guard outfits but with extra body armor worn on top of their outfit. The weapons they were carrying were massive and imposing but were no threat to us. The meatheads ignored everyone but me as they stood at attention before me after they marched in. Almost a shame they did not salute me.
They explained quite loud that they were sent as part of an extra security measure by Newman. In case another violent outburst of the specimen were to take place. I asked them if they were going to blow the specimen and the rest of the lab up if they opened fire with the concrete blocks they were carrying. I made one of them chuckle a little. The other gave a reply like a broken answering machine; "These weapons are for non-lethal electric shocks only!" whereupon they both walked to the opposite sides of the room and barely moved from that point on. Like poles made out of muscle, meat and big chunky boots.
When the promo was over, I went back to the machine. It had been dubbed "the Recycler" by some junior researchers. And while recycling in any other scenario would be very nice, not in this case. I did not bother to remove the cover we put on the specimen yesterday, I just looked at it's face and clearly remember the horrible scream it uttered yesterday. I shook the images of and turned the machine on. Under my breath I apologized but no one else heard it.
The machine sounded like a diesel locomotive and was shaking like crazy. I took several steps back in case it would collapse and turn into god knows what. But after moments of sputtering, the machine started working. As the blood began to be drained, slowly but surely going up into the pipes, we could see the heart rate of the specimen go up. Its muscles were getting tense; the specimen was in pain again. I decided to look away and instructed the rest of the team to do the exact same. Until the machine was finished, we would not look towards it. For our own good. Although I did give it some glances from time to time.
I do not know for how long the machine will go on. The analysis of the drained blood takes a while and the draining process itself is dragged out way longer then it should be. Only reinforcing that Newman had something personal going on with the specimen. What is it? I'm beginning to wonder if someone or something is trying to keep me from thinking and just do what I was brought in for... the medicine.
Project Scorpion is on its way
Posted 6 years agoRan into some delays. Just noticed it had been 18 days so time for a new entry. Except it very soon!
Project Scorpion Day 18-19
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "Draining" by Head Researcher ██. ███████
Oh god... oh god... what have I done...?
I realize I'm falling into repetition. I can't help it. It got worse... again. Yesterday was very bad. What I saw... I couldn't believe. I called in sick that day. Not because I did not want to be there, but because my very stomach had flipped. I was so full of guilt, it was making me ill. Today I returned however, perhaps with a more clear sense of direction.
What I saw, was no longer a specimen held onto a table with straps and hooked-up to a drip and a constant stream of anesthetic, it was a blood sucking machine. That is the only way I could describe it. Practically every vein close to the purple spots had been hooked up to a machine that would sap the blood. Alongside that, the specimen was now completely naked. Previously it had been given some covering for the sensitive parts but clearly Newman thought this to be necessary. An attempt at humiliation? Either way, it was not a pretty sight. It felt degrading...
Newman's assistant was standing next to the machine, looking extremely out of place and uncomfortable. I walked up to her and she was startled when I spoke to her. She apologized and handed me something that Newman had written for me; given my sick day I wouldn't have checked my email and he wanted this delivered to me before I started working on it.
The secretary then practically dashed out of the lab, leaving me to read the note on my own. It detailed what the machine was and what its purpose was. The machine would drain blood from various parts along the purple border as he called it. Only about 50 milliliters which would be stored and scanned for anomalies. If no anomalies are found, the blood will be returned into the body while from another spot blood would be drained. This process would continue until about 10 liters of blood had been scanned, about two times the amount of blood a regular person has. And presumably, the specimen as well.
We were to turn on this machine as soon as we got to work. The machine was not to turn off until it had done it's programming. Otherwise there would be "severe implications". Well... after what I've been through the last days, severe implications did not seem like such a big threat. I wanted to solve this another way.
Along with the machine, came various other devices. One of which, was something I could best describe a very thin, very long tube with a camera at its tip. Almost microscopic in size really. I'm not sure what the device was called but I've handled things like this before. Not this particular model but it's purpose is very well known. This would be the best way to drain the blood, I knew it.
I suggested it to my peers and they agreed. They were very bothered by the machine as well and if they did not have to use, they would be prefer never to touch it. What we would do was; use one of the hook-ups to insert the tube directly into the vein. The tube would follow the vein all the way into the purple spot. If we can't breach it from the outside, then we'll do it in a sneakier way. We would get in there, create a small hole for the blood to pour into the veins, quickly turn on the machine to drain it and that should be it!
We set to work, all of us hoping for that glorious moment. The tube was inserted and the camera turned on. On a big screen we could see what was in it was like inside but we didn't care. All we wanted was to reach inside the purple growths. "What if there is nothing inside it?" joked one of the junior researchers, a joke that would fall flat in any other situation, but in this one was a welcome ice breaker to the tense atmosphere. Regardless, we went ahead carefully and finally we reached the spot we were looking for. However, it seemed there was a blockade. It looked gross, like a ball of dried up mucus and puss. It was preventing us from going in. But we were too far to back-off now. We pushed gently against it and after a couple pushes, it broke loose.
The camera was instantly greeted with a flurry of brown pus that began enveloping it and streaming into the veins. Several researches told me to abort but I said that this pus would be over soon. It didn't happen. For several seconds, I watched perplexed at the amount coming through until I finally saw the error in my ways. The blockade was there for a reason.
The scariest part was... I was not the only one who woke up. As I was pulling out the tube as fast as I could, the specimen opened its eyes and its mouth. The scream that came forth from it... I have never heard a more banshee-like scream before this day. The specimen was in immense pain, broke free from its restraints and started swinging its limbs about. We tried to subdue it, keep it pinned to the table but it was strong. Very strong. Strong enough to broke an assistants nose with one desperate flail. One bright mind upped the amount of anesthetic that we were pumping in and eventually, the flailing stopped and the specimen was quiet again. We backed away, trying avert our eyes from its naked body as much as we could.
"Someone get her a blanket!" I shouted, completely disregarding protocol. The specimen was quickly covered up and new restraints were put in place. My heart was racing as one of the specimen's limbs came dangerously close to hurting me. Furthermore, the strength of the specimen was something to watch out for. It had been hurt, I don't think it wants to be hurt again.
We ended the day then and there. I made a quick rapport and send it to Newman. We were done for today... I might be done forever after this.
Day 18:Oh god... oh god... what have I done...?
Day 19:I realize I'm falling into repetition. I can't help it. It got worse... again. Yesterday was very bad. What I saw... I couldn't believe. I called in sick that day. Not because I did not want to be there, but because my very stomach had flipped. I was so full of guilt, it was making me ill. Today I returned however, perhaps with a more clear sense of direction.
What I saw, was no longer a specimen held onto a table with straps and hooked-up to a drip and a constant stream of anesthetic, it was a blood sucking machine. That is the only way I could describe it. Practically every vein close to the purple spots had been hooked up to a machine that would sap the blood. Alongside that, the specimen was now completely naked. Previously it had been given some covering for the sensitive parts but clearly Newman thought this to be necessary. An attempt at humiliation? Either way, it was not a pretty sight. It felt degrading...
Newman's assistant was standing next to the machine, looking extremely out of place and uncomfortable. I walked up to her and she was startled when I spoke to her. She apologized and handed me something that Newman had written for me; given my sick day I wouldn't have checked my email and he wanted this delivered to me before I started working on it.
The secretary then practically dashed out of the lab, leaving me to read the note on my own. It detailed what the machine was and what its purpose was. The machine would drain blood from various parts along the purple border as he called it. Only about 50 milliliters which would be stored and scanned for anomalies. If no anomalies are found, the blood will be returned into the body while from another spot blood would be drained. This process would continue until about 10 liters of blood had been scanned, about two times the amount of blood a regular person has. And presumably, the specimen as well.
We were to turn on this machine as soon as we got to work. The machine was not to turn off until it had done it's programming. Otherwise there would be "severe implications". Well... after what I've been through the last days, severe implications did not seem like such a big threat. I wanted to solve this another way.
Along with the machine, came various other devices. One of which, was something I could best describe a very thin, very long tube with a camera at its tip. Almost microscopic in size really. I'm not sure what the device was called but I've handled things like this before. Not this particular model but it's purpose is very well known. This would be the best way to drain the blood, I knew it.
I suggested it to my peers and they agreed. They were very bothered by the machine as well and if they did not have to use, they would be prefer never to touch it. What we would do was; use one of the hook-ups to insert the tube directly into the vein. The tube would follow the vein all the way into the purple spot. If we can't breach it from the outside, then we'll do it in a sneakier way. We would get in there, create a small hole for the blood to pour into the veins, quickly turn on the machine to drain it and that should be it!
We set to work, all of us hoping for that glorious moment. The tube was inserted and the camera turned on. On a big screen we could see what was in it was like inside but we didn't care. All we wanted was to reach inside the purple growths. "What if there is nothing inside it?" joked one of the junior researchers, a joke that would fall flat in any other situation, but in this one was a welcome ice breaker to the tense atmosphere. Regardless, we went ahead carefully and finally we reached the spot we were looking for. However, it seemed there was a blockade. It looked gross, like a ball of dried up mucus and puss. It was preventing us from going in. But we were too far to back-off now. We pushed gently against it and after a couple pushes, it broke loose.
The camera was instantly greeted with a flurry of brown pus that began enveloping it and streaming into the veins. Several researches told me to abort but I said that this pus would be over soon. It didn't happen. For several seconds, I watched perplexed at the amount coming through until I finally saw the error in my ways. The blockade was there for a reason.
The scariest part was... I was not the only one who woke up. As I was pulling out the tube as fast as I could, the specimen opened its eyes and its mouth. The scream that came forth from it... I have never heard a more banshee-like scream before this day. The specimen was in immense pain, broke free from its restraints and started swinging its limbs about. We tried to subdue it, keep it pinned to the table but it was strong. Very strong. Strong enough to broke an assistants nose with one desperate flail. One bright mind upped the amount of anesthetic that we were pumping in and eventually, the flailing stopped and the specimen was quiet again. We backed away, trying avert our eyes from its naked body as much as we could.
"Someone get her a blanket!" I shouted, completely disregarding protocol. The specimen was quickly covered up and new restraints were put in place. My heart was racing as one of the specimen's limbs came dangerously close to hurting me. Furthermore, the strength of the specimen was something to watch out for. It had been hurt, I don't think it wants to be hurt again.
We ended the day then and there. I made a quick rapport and send it to Newman. We were done for today... I might be done forever after this.
Project Scorpion Day 17
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "Taunting" by Head Researcher ██. ███████
I think I'm going crazy. Not just because I have no choice but also because I'm starting to see where Newman came from with that remark he made. About it 'taunting' him. I think it still does so. The laser we got is so much more powerful then the previous one that cut through the scab but nothing has happened so far. Not even the stench is being produced anymore! Some have theorized it is the skin adapting to extreme heat, giving how the rest of its body has been responding to cuts so far.
But I think something different. That's why I said that I think I'm going crazy; I'm starting to see things. I can more and more relate to the researcher who claimed that he saw it move. Clint his name was... yes Clint. Heard he has had nightmares for several days after the event. Regardless, I think the specimen is hiding that it is conscious... or at least aware to some degree of its surrounding. More importantly, what is happening to it and what we are doing. At first I couldn't wrap my head around it. I mean it is sedated. We check every morning if everything is alright and we monitor it constantly.
Yet... the feeling got stronger the moment I stood where Newman stood that day. As the laser was frantically trying to cut through, being on 24/7 since its introduction, I saw something of a response. Maybe my brain was playing tricks on me but I think I saw a smirk. For a fraction of a second, a smirk. As if it knew what I knew...
What I did next, I was not proud off. I feel like this will haunt me for much longer then the nightmares lasted with Clint. I got behind my computer after my moment of realization and I typed out an email to Newman. I wrote that I understood where he was coming from and that I saw it too. The reply was almost instantaneous. It was very short, only saying that I should stay in the lab while everyone else would be having lunch. We would have plenty of time to discuss some matters. I agreed.
I used the excuse of unfinished work to let the others know I was not going to join them for lunch. I was nervous of what Newman was going to say. And then he entered, speaking off the devil. He looked very happy to see. I went to greet him with a handshake but he went for a hug instead. "I am so glad!" he uttered as he let go of me and held me by my shoulders. "We finally see eye to eye like we did all those years ago. I knew I could trust you!" He puts his left around around the back of my neck as we turned away from the specimen. "When I saw your email, it was like seeing heaven open up in front of me. You are by far one of the smartest people I know. And in the time I have met you, many contenders have come but they could never beat you. I chose you for this project and I chose righteous! The specimen? Don't you worry about that! If we can't get to the blood, the blood will come to us!" he proclaimed with a clenched fist. "I will have the laser removed next thing tomorrow. And I will make sure you will get all of the toys you need to drain that sweet, sweet nectar from her veins."
I heard that right. Newman called the specimen "her". Before I could check that choice of words with him, he let go of me and walked towards the door to exit the lab before turning around. "You and I buddy. Together, we will make history! Years from now they will be talking about our great achievements here! And when the public will be safe from pretty much any known disease, they will be chanting our names! We will be gods! Well... demigods at least." He chuckled before turning his attention back to me. "I will remember your deed, I will. After this project is over, I will make sure to mention your name on the top of the list. You will get a nice slice of the fame, trust me on that one."
After saying that, he left. All he said were positive things, but they hit me like a sledgehammer to the face. And so did the realization that I have essentially become his lapdog. I'm afraid of what my email has caused...
Day 17:I think I'm going crazy. Not just because I have no choice but also because I'm starting to see where Newman came from with that remark he made. About it 'taunting' him. I think it still does so. The laser we got is so much more powerful then the previous one that cut through the scab but nothing has happened so far. Not even the stench is being produced anymore! Some have theorized it is the skin adapting to extreme heat, giving how the rest of its body has been responding to cuts so far.
But I think something different. That's why I said that I think I'm going crazy; I'm starting to see things. I can more and more relate to the researcher who claimed that he saw it move. Clint his name was... yes Clint. Heard he has had nightmares for several days after the event. Regardless, I think the specimen is hiding that it is conscious... or at least aware to some degree of its surrounding. More importantly, what is happening to it and what we are doing. At first I couldn't wrap my head around it. I mean it is sedated. We check every morning if everything is alright and we monitor it constantly.
Yet... the feeling got stronger the moment I stood where Newman stood that day. As the laser was frantically trying to cut through, being on 24/7 since its introduction, I saw something of a response. Maybe my brain was playing tricks on me but I think I saw a smirk. For a fraction of a second, a smirk. As if it knew what I knew...
What I did next, I was not proud off. I feel like this will haunt me for much longer then the nightmares lasted with Clint. I got behind my computer after my moment of realization and I typed out an email to Newman. I wrote that I understood where he was coming from and that I saw it too. The reply was almost instantaneous. It was very short, only saying that I should stay in the lab while everyone else would be having lunch. We would have plenty of time to discuss some matters. I agreed.
I used the excuse of unfinished work to let the others know I was not going to join them for lunch. I was nervous of what Newman was going to say. And then he entered, speaking off the devil. He looked very happy to see. I went to greet him with a handshake but he went for a hug instead. "I am so glad!" he uttered as he let go of me and held me by my shoulders. "We finally see eye to eye like we did all those years ago. I knew I could trust you!" He puts his left around around the back of my neck as we turned away from the specimen. "When I saw your email, it was like seeing heaven open up in front of me. You are by far one of the smartest people I know. And in the time I have met you, many contenders have come but they could never beat you. I chose you for this project and I chose righteous! The specimen? Don't you worry about that! If we can't get to the blood, the blood will come to us!" he proclaimed with a clenched fist. "I will have the laser removed next thing tomorrow. And I will make sure you will get all of the toys you need to drain that sweet, sweet nectar from her veins."
I heard that right. Newman called the specimen "her". Before I could check that choice of words with him, he let go of me and walked towards the door to exit the lab before turning around. "You and I buddy. Together, we will make history! Years from now they will be talking about our great achievements here! And when the public will be safe from pretty much any known disease, they will be chanting our names! We will be gods! Well... demigods at least." He chuckled before turning his attention back to me. "I will remember your deed, I will. After this project is over, I will make sure to mention your name on the top of the list. You will get a nice slice of the fame, trust me on that one."
After saying that, he left. All he said were positive things, but they hit me like a sledgehammer to the face. And so did the realization that I have essentially become his lapdog. I'm afraid of what my email has caused...
Project Scorpion Day 13-16
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "Escalation" by Head Researcher ██. ███████
A free day. I can hardly believe it. Is it out of pity? I couldn't be... either way we received an email around 6 in the morning telling us to sleep in and have the day off. All of us, no one was spared the honor of not coming in for work. And honestly, it is a blessing. Even though we would all love to get ahead with the project, I think this is for the best. Especially given the tension that was so prevalent yesterday.
And I must say, spending time with the family was a welcome change of pace. There are not many fathers who are working 7 days a week constantly and having a day off meant that my children were overjoyed to find their dad asleep in his bed with their mom. So... sleeping in wasn't going to happen. The little devils jumped onto the bed and that alone woke me up. The noises coming out of their mouths are inhumanely loud and that was what woke my wife up. Were we mad? A little grumpy to start but how can we stay mad at little kids not older than 6?
And of course my wife was glad too. We went to the zoo that the little one's were practically begging us to go to. So I thought... why not? So we went and we had a lovely time. I would almost thank Newman if I didn't think there was something fishy about that email. I'm not sure if anyone else received the same long email as I did. He spoke of... "new equipment to make it so much easier". Reading it aloud makes a chill run down my back. I can imagine him saying "so much" with an evil tone behind it. Perhaps I need to get used to the fluctuation between something good happening and then something bad.
Regardless, if the bad keeps coming back, I'll have no choice but to resign. I'd choose family over that project, no matter how much it will benefit everyone in the world.
This son of a... I knew it. I just knew it! The new equipment he was talking about? A new laser that is to drill right into the specimen's arm! Newman wants us to drill right into it until we find what we are meant to be looking for. Like the arm is the soil whereupon we place our oil drill and await the black rain to come up from underneath. The instructions were crudely taped on the laser but were written on a computer so it was still readable, even if a bit crumpled.
We couldn't believe it. On top of that, the researcher that freaked out 2 days ago? He was gone. His desk had been cleaned completely and there was no trace of him ever being here. Like he was just erased. I went to the front desk and asked about him. The receptionist was kind enough to look it up on her computer because she knew who I was talking about but the computer promptly said that this person had never been affiliated with Project Scorpion. She apologized and didn't look into it any further. Disturbed, I went back.
One other piece of equipment that was given was an X-ray machine. We decided that if we had to drill through, we might as well find out how far we need to drill. Perhaps there's something we can find that is close to the surface of the skin. A pocket of air or perhaps even blood? We turned it on. It was a slow process. The machine had to work overtime to look into the arm. And because no one wanted to drill at all, we decided to stretch the process out as long as possible.
During that, rumors started to spread. About Newman and the specimen. Because how could one man hate this specimen so much? Has he had an encounter with it before? Maybe a business deal gone bad or has he been insulted by it? The most popular has to be a botched romance. Given Newman, I wouldn't be surprised if he slays through women like a fat man at a buffet.
After lunch break, we found that the lab was even more deserted. Turns out, those that have been starting the rumors, have been removed. Same as with the previous one, there was no trace. Front desk never saw them leave. The camera's that hand around the lab for our protection have now become Newman's eyes. Anything he disliked, would be removed. Out of fear, none of us would try to do anything other then what was ordered.
The laser was turned on today. The X-ray machine had done its work but we ended up with nothing. The machine was not powerful enough to look through the specimen's arm. It seems the layers are blocking out any form of radiation. We have no choice but to the continue on. Thoughtfully though, gas masks were provided so we could work without the stench interrupting us.
Our team has been reinforced by 4 new researchers, seemingly more willing to go along with Newman's ideas. Nothing much happened during that day. I am beginning to get... more compassion for the specimen. For 15 days we have been working on it like it's a thing. Exactly how we were instructed to treat it. But Newman is not treating it like a thing. He is treating it was if it were nothing. I'm definitely going to speak my mind about this. If he cares enough to remove me from the project, so be it. This cannot go on.
I don't think I had even been so determined before in my life. Last night I spend a lot of time preparing my letter of resignation so I could hand it over to Newman and be expected to leave. He would find another one like me without trouble, I was sure of it. His secretary told me when I asked for him that he was not in his office, rather out for breakfast. I rightly called bullshit on that and entered the hallway leading to his office. The poor girl practically begged me not to go on and she eventually resorted to calling security. I could not care less at that point.
I flung open his door and I think he was impressed with my bravery of stepping towards him. Or maybe he expected it and was just glad to see me furious. I know him longer then today... at least I thought so. I walked over to his desk, keeping my attitude in check as put my letter down and pushed towards him. "There!" I said. "That should be enough from me. I am done playing with your specimen. You find someone else."
From that point on, Newman leaned back, his arms resting on the armrests and just stared at me. He was trying to call my bluff and... I could not keep a straight face. Newman smirked, grabbed the letter, took one look at it before it promptly disappeared into the paper shredder. "My fortune build you up." he said. "My fortune can also break you down. Would be a shame if... you know what I mean. This 'meeting' never took place. Shall we agree on that?" I swallowed and gave a light nod in defeat. Newman was content with this and showed me the door with a patronizing slap on the back of my head. "Make me proud buddy!" he shouted after me as his security stood at the end of the hallway to greet me with open arms. "Do not break him boys. I need him."
I do not know what hurts worse; a left hook to the jaw, or the humiliation of being reminded that your life is but a button switch away from being ruined. I have been living on borrowed success and the debt collector has come to claim his share. Things have escalated beyond my control... I have never felt so powerless. I have no choice but to continue.
Day 13:A free day. I can hardly believe it. Is it out of pity? I couldn't be... either way we received an email around 6 in the morning telling us to sleep in and have the day off. All of us, no one was spared the honor of not coming in for work. And honestly, it is a blessing. Even though we would all love to get ahead with the project, I think this is for the best. Especially given the tension that was so prevalent yesterday.
And I must say, spending time with the family was a welcome change of pace. There are not many fathers who are working 7 days a week constantly and having a day off meant that my children were overjoyed to find their dad asleep in his bed with their mom. So... sleeping in wasn't going to happen. The little devils jumped onto the bed and that alone woke me up. The noises coming out of their mouths are inhumanely loud and that was what woke my wife up. Were we mad? A little grumpy to start but how can we stay mad at little kids not older than 6?
And of course my wife was glad too. We went to the zoo that the little one's were practically begging us to go to. So I thought... why not? So we went and we had a lovely time. I would almost thank Newman if I didn't think there was something fishy about that email. I'm not sure if anyone else received the same long email as I did. He spoke of... "new equipment to make it so much easier". Reading it aloud makes a chill run down my back. I can imagine him saying "so much" with an evil tone behind it. Perhaps I need to get used to the fluctuation between something good happening and then something bad.
Regardless, if the bad keeps coming back, I'll have no choice but to resign. I'd choose family over that project, no matter how much it will benefit everyone in the world.
Day 14: This son of a... I knew it. I just knew it! The new equipment he was talking about? A new laser that is to drill right into the specimen's arm! Newman wants us to drill right into it until we find what we are meant to be looking for. Like the arm is the soil whereupon we place our oil drill and await the black rain to come up from underneath. The instructions were crudely taped on the laser but were written on a computer so it was still readable, even if a bit crumpled.
We couldn't believe it. On top of that, the researcher that freaked out 2 days ago? He was gone. His desk had been cleaned completely and there was no trace of him ever being here. Like he was just erased. I went to the front desk and asked about him. The receptionist was kind enough to look it up on her computer because she knew who I was talking about but the computer promptly said that this person had never been affiliated with Project Scorpion. She apologized and didn't look into it any further. Disturbed, I went back.
One other piece of equipment that was given was an X-ray machine. We decided that if we had to drill through, we might as well find out how far we need to drill. Perhaps there's something we can find that is close to the surface of the skin. A pocket of air or perhaps even blood? We turned it on. It was a slow process. The machine had to work overtime to look into the arm. And because no one wanted to drill at all, we decided to stretch the process out as long as possible.
During that, rumors started to spread. About Newman and the specimen. Because how could one man hate this specimen so much? Has he had an encounter with it before? Maybe a business deal gone bad or has he been insulted by it? The most popular has to be a botched romance. Given Newman, I wouldn't be surprised if he slays through women like a fat man at a buffet.
After lunch break, we found that the lab was even more deserted. Turns out, those that have been starting the rumors, have been removed. Same as with the previous one, there was no trace. Front desk never saw them leave. The camera's that hand around the lab for our protection have now become Newman's eyes. Anything he disliked, would be removed. Out of fear, none of us would try to do anything other then what was ordered.
Day 15:The laser was turned on today. The X-ray machine had done its work but we ended up with nothing. The machine was not powerful enough to look through the specimen's arm. It seems the layers are blocking out any form of radiation. We have no choice but to the continue on. Thoughtfully though, gas masks were provided so we could work without the stench interrupting us.
Our team has been reinforced by 4 new researchers, seemingly more willing to go along with Newman's ideas. Nothing much happened during that day. I am beginning to get... more compassion for the specimen. For 15 days we have been working on it like it's a thing. Exactly how we were instructed to treat it. But Newman is not treating it like a thing. He is treating it was if it were nothing. I'm definitely going to speak my mind about this. If he cares enough to remove me from the project, so be it. This cannot go on.
Day 16:I don't think I had even been so determined before in my life. Last night I spend a lot of time preparing my letter of resignation so I could hand it over to Newman and be expected to leave. He would find another one like me without trouble, I was sure of it. His secretary told me when I asked for him that he was not in his office, rather out for breakfast. I rightly called bullshit on that and entered the hallway leading to his office. The poor girl practically begged me not to go on and she eventually resorted to calling security. I could not care less at that point.
I flung open his door and I think he was impressed with my bravery of stepping towards him. Or maybe he expected it and was just glad to see me furious. I know him longer then today... at least I thought so. I walked over to his desk, keeping my attitude in check as put my letter down and pushed towards him. "There!" I said. "That should be enough from me. I am done playing with your specimen. You find someone else."
From that point on, Newman leaned back, his arms resting on the armrests and just stared at me. He was trying to call my bluff and... I could not keep a straight face. Newman smirked, grabbed the letter, took one look at it before it promptly disappeared into the paper shredder. "My fortune build you up." he said. "My fortune can also break you down. Would be a shame if... you know what I mean. This 'meeting' never took place. Shall we agree on that?" I swallowed and gave a light nod in defeat. Newman was content with this and showed me the door with a patronizing slap on the back of my head. "Make me proud buddy!" he shouted after me as his security stood at the end of the hallway to greet me with open arms. "Do not break him boys. I need him."
I do not know what hurts worse; a left hook to the jaw, or the humiliation of being reminded that your life is but a button switch away from being ruined. I have been living on borrowed success and the debt collector has come to claim his share. Things have escalated beyond my control... I have never felt so powerless. I have no choice but to continue.
Alyah is coming
Posted 6 years agoWell, a plan several years in the making is finally going somewhere. Yesterday I had a phone call with immigration and today I printed the documents. Alyah is coming to The Netherlands baby! I don't know when exactly because both of us need to fill in various forms and then it could take up to 3 months for the bureaucracy to process it all.
Regardless of that, she is coming and I couldn't be more thrilled! Just felt like sharing that :3 Project Scorpion Day 9-12
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "Newman" by Head Researcher ██. ███████
I was startled when I came in early today. I figured I would get the basic check-ups out of the way early so we could start at 8:00, resume cutting through the scab and get on with our day. But when I came into the room, I saw Newman standing in front of the specimen. It was as if he was in a trance. He was completely fixated with it. Perhaps after what had happened yesterday with the scalpel, he realized the importance of treating it with a little more respect?
I cautiously drew his attention and I could see him snap out of it. He glanced over to me and said that he was "simply inspecting the damage done, nothing more." I did not have a chance to ask him anymore before he came up to me and told me explicitly to my face that no one is to break the rules regarding the treatment of the specimen. I replied that I understood that but also that one's mistake does not count for all of us. He seemed content with that answer and left.
While I was still wrapping my head around what just happened, I caught a glimpse of the specimen's arm; it was completely healed! The bandage had been removed, I presume by Newman, and there was nothing left indicating she... darn. IT has been stabbed at all. No scars, no infections, no blood. Nothing. Her wounds heal extremely quick it seems. Perhaps that was what transfixed Newman so much.
On the other hand, the way he spoke to me after he snapped out of it, almost sounded like someone who... cared? I never figured I would use the word "care" and "Newman" in the same sentence with the absence of "absolutely no" but here we are. Perhaps, in the dark, empty black void that resides within his rib cage, there maybe is a heart?
As for the status on the scab, there is no process so far. We turned it on around 8:00, sealed of the room to keep the stench quarantined, left it on during lunch and turned it off at the end of the day. I think I should bring a deck of cards tomorrow, I've seen people yawning on the work floor. Considering there isn't much around for us to do but wait, I cannot say I blame them.
Joy! Like a child let loose in a candy shop with an infinite budget and an empty stomach, we celebrated. The laser had cut a nice, clean hole through the scab. Once the room had been ventilated and what remained had cooled down, I took it out. I don't know if it was because of the intense lasering but the scab could be snapped with ease. Like I was snapping a biscuit in half. That was a stunning moment. Now that it was open, we could finally see what is inside!
I had never seen so many layers so packed together in such a small package. Keep in mind, the scab was maybe the size of a peanut without it's shell and that is being generous. We sought for hours between the many layers in search for traces of blood. Anything we could slightly identify as blood was examined thoroughly. And after all that effort... nothing.
What were those black spots then? Clumps of dead cells cluttered together. We found nothing. Again, we are back at square one. Well, it was a heavy day for all of us. And despite achieving not that much, morale was still quite high. We look forward to tomorrow.
I am a bad omen. I should never ended yesterday's log on a positive note. It came back to bite us all in the ass. Our morale was not shared by Newman. After appearing that one day, he had not shown his face here at all since. Had not even looked into his inbox. I know he is a busy man but still. Well, he responded today. Oh did he respond...
Just before afternoon, he stormed in with his usual entourage of bodyguards but they were visibly armed, putting the fear into everyone. What were those guys going to do to us? Newman and the armed goons were going straight for the specimen and I stepped in. I half expected Newman to push me aside but he stopped. I could see it in his eyes. Stress, anger and above all contempt. I told him that the scab did not produce the results we wanted but that we would find another way. It did not have to end right here and now.
Then Newman pushed me aside but also gestured to the guards to stay back. He approached the specimen and looked down upon it. I'm not sure what he was observing about it, but it was slightly uncomfortable. He audibly exhaled before he asked to the specimen if it was mocking him. He was so sure about that. Everyone could hear it. "All the funds I put into this project to keep it running... all of the expectations. You don't care at all. You are mocking me..." Newman did not make his thoughts a secret and after a small internal hissy fit, left as fast and negative as he came in. Just two words he uttered before the doors closed behind him. "Carry on." accompanied by a faint hand gesture.
The rest of the day was tense. Around 13:00, the tenseness reached its highest point. A junior researcher suddenly shrieked and backed himself against a table behind him. We rushed to his aid and asked what just happened. "It moved!" he cried. "It moved! I saw its finger moving!" Anxiously, three of us including me carefully approached the specimen but we saw no movement at all. After some coffee and some encouraging words we got the guy to work again. We managed to get several theories down on what we would do after this and called it a day.
I do not know what tomorrow holds for us. And I cannot stop thinking about the possibility of the specimen moving its finger. Maybe it was a muscle spasm? Just his imagination? I chose not to report this incident in the official report but this audio log for personal use until the project has reached it's end. These are... troubling times for Project Scorpion.
Day 9:I was startled when I came in early today. I figured I would get the basic check-ups out of the way early so we could start at 8:00, resume cutting through the scab and get on with our day. But when I came into the room, I saw Newman standing in front of the specimen. It was as if he was in a trance. He was completely fixated with it. Perhaps after what had happened yesterday with the scalpel, he realized the importance of treating it with a little more respect?
I cautiously drew his attention and I could see him snap out of it. He glanced over to me and said that he was "simply inspecting the damage done, nothing more." I did not have a chance to ask him anymore before he came up to me and told me explicitly to my face that no one is to break the rules regarding the treatment of the specimen. I replied that I understood that but also that one's mistake does not count for all of us. He seemed content with that answer and left.
While I was still wrapping my head around what just happened, I caught a glimpse of the specimen's arm; it was completely healed! The bandage had been removed, I presume by Newman, and there was nothing left indicating she... darn. IT has been stabbed at all. No scars, no infections, no blood. Nothing. Her wounds heal extremely quick it seems. Perhaps that was what transfixed Newman so much.
On the other hand, the way he spoke to me after he snapped out of it, almost sounded like someone who... cared? I never figured I would use the word "care" and "Newman" in the same sentence with the absence of "absolutely no" but here we are. Perhaps, in the dark, empty black void that resides within his rib cage, there maybe is a heart?
As for the status on the scab, there is no process so far. We turned it on around 8:00, sealed of the room to keep the stench quarantined, left it on during lunch and turned it off at the end of the day. I think I should bring a deck of cards tomorrow, I've seen people yawning on the work floor. Considering there isn't much around for us to do but wait, I cannot say I blame them.
Day 11:Joy! Like a child let loose in a candy shop with an infinite budget and an empty stomach, we celebrated. The laser had cut a nice, clean hole through the scab. Once the room had been ventilated and what remained had cooled down, I took it out. I don't know if it was because of the intense lasering but the scab could be snapped with ease. Like I was snapping a biscuit in half. That was a stunning moment. Now that it was open, we could finally see what is inside!
I had never seen so many layers so packed together in such a small package. Keep in mind, the scab was maybe the size of a peanut without it's shell and that is being generous. We sought for hours between the many layers in search for traces of blood. Anything we could slightly identify as blood was examined thoroughly. And after all that effort... nothing.
What were those black spots then? Clumps of dead cells cluttered together. We found nothing. Again, we are back at square one. Well, it was a heavy day for all of us. And despite achieving not that much, morale was still quite high. We look forward to tomorrow.
Day 12:I am a bad omen. I should never ended yesterday's log on a positive note. It came back to bite us all in the ass. Our morale was not shared by Newman. After appearing that one day, he had not shown his face here at all since. Had not even looked into his inbox. I know he is a busy man but still. Well, he responded today. Oh did he respond...
Just before afternoon, he stormed in with his usual entourage of bodyguards but they were visibly armed, putting the fear into everyone. What were those guys going to do to us? Newman and the armed goons were going straight for the specimen and I stepped in. I half expected Newman to push me aside but he stopped. I could see it in his eyes. Stress, anger and above all contempt. I told him that the scab did not produce the results we wanted but that we would find another way. It did not have to end right here and now.
Then Newman pushed me aside but also gestured to the guards to stay back. He approached the specimen and looked down upon it. I'm not sure what he was observing about it, but it was slightly uncomfortable. He audibly exhaled before he asked to the specimen if it was mocking him. He was so sure about that. Everyone could hear it. "All the funds I put into this project to keep it running... all of the expectations. You don't care at all. You are mocking me..." Newman did not make his thoughts a secret and after a small internal hissy fit, left as fast and negative as he came in. Just two words he uttered before the doors closed behind him. "Carry on." accompanied by a faint hand gesture.
The rest of the day was tense. Around 13:00, the tenseness reached its highest point. A junior researcher suddenly shrieked and backed himself against a table behind him. We rushed to his aid and asked what just happened. "It moved!" he cried. "It moved! I saw its finger moving!" Anxiously, three of us including me carefully approached the specimen but we saw no movement at all. After some coffee and some encouraging words we got the guy to work again. We managed to get several theories down on what we would do after this and called it a day.
I do not know what tomorrow holds for us. And I cannot stop thinking about the possibility of the specimen moving its finger. Maybe it was a muscle spasm? Just his imagination? I chose not to report this incident in the official report but this audio log for personal use until the project has reached it's end. These are... troubling times for Project Scorpion.
Project Scorpion Day 4-8
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "Scab" by Head Researcher ██. ███████
I suppose the scab analogy can only go so far. Where as I could peel off a scab on my skin with a fingernail and consistent scratching, the fingernail we require would resemble a crowbar more then anything else. I have never seen so many tools being ruined in the process of trying to remove something. We even went ancient in our methods, trying to chisel it out as if we were making a sculpture. No progress to report.
One thing I can tell about today, was that the biggest sleazebag in the world came to visit us this morning. Accompanied by two bodyguards, he came in like he owned the business. Which... he technically does. Walter Newman. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and a-hole first class. Regardless of his behavior, he does have the degrees which is commendable... I guess. After letting everyone get a good look at his presence, we walked over to the specimen and inquired us what we have doing for the past days aside from making a mole that was quote "uglier than his mother-in-law who has been dead for 5 years". I explained to him that the skin was so hard, that even putting a blowtorch at it for 2 hours didn't work. We then told him about the scab theory and then we saw his face light up.
He gave me one hell of an encouraging slap on the shoulder and grandly said why I never asked him for help on that. I think he knows why I and my team didn't ask for it but he had to rub it in. He let go of me and started to walk out with the biggest smirk on his face and a booming laughter. "I will let you borrow my laser nitwit! It will make short work of your scab issue!" And the door closed behind him.
He at least kept his promise. After lunch time it was ready at out laboratory for us to use. We figured we would let our hobbyist set it up. The guide that came with the device was very clear that enough distance needed to be taken and everyone was very happy to take that advice to heart given the stench it was likely to produce. We programmed the laser to follow the outline of the scab while cutting and we would manually stop it once it would come loose. We hope it doesn't take too long.
Well that took it sweet time. But we finally have it! After extensive manual labor, given that the laser turned out to suffer from performance issues every 3 hours, we have finally have it. The scab hit the ground and it sounded like glass hit the floor. It did not break though. I picked it up and was weighing next to nothing. As if I was completely hollow on the inside. But we had it! It felt so good! 7 days in and all our efforts would be rewarded soon enough. I sent a quick email to Newman to let him know that we were thankful for his laser and that despite it failing on us more times then we would have liked, we accomplished our goal.
I instructed one of the assistants to put this under a microscope and check the entire surface of the scab, particularly the black spots and the underside of it. Well, she did everything she could but the surface was a bust. The black spots and everyone else did not resemble blood. Just discoloration of the skin following the heat of the blowtorch. We must now try to cut it open... at that point I already regretted sending that email. Now he was likely to be angry.
Then again, it was at the end of the day so I do not think I will receive his wrath today. Tomorrow however, I'm not so sure.
The day started off really nice actually. I opened my inbox to a surprisingly upbeat email from Newman, saying that he regrets saddling us up with insufficient equipment. He said he would drop by today to replace the failing laser with a better one. Until then, we were instructed to theorize what was inside the scab and perhaps look over the surface one more time. Whilst the same assistant as yesterday took it under the microscope, I collected the team and began a brainstorming session near my workstation.
That is when... something unfortunate happened. For clarification, my workstation is only a few steps removed from the specimen. If I look left of my screen, I can see it lying there sedated. Meaning that some of my coworkers were even closer to it. The trouble began when a young bright spot said that it could be possible that, given the black spots, she might bleed black instead of red. It would also save us a lot of time and effort. You could hear the energy and willingness to prove himself in his voice.
Given her mutations, it might not seem like such a farfetched idea that her blood might be a different color compared to ours, but suggesting it is black is absurd. The theory was thrown to the wind.
Then it happened. As if he imagined himself being in a medical drama where everyone was sure his theory was incorrect, he would go against protocol, do what he needed to do and prove to everyone that he was right. He stood up, ran to towards the specimen, grabbed a scalpel and before anyone could stop him, he cut deep into the non-mutated right arm of the specimen. And miraculously, he was dead wrong. Blood came pouring out and it was red. Two guards intervened and pulled him away beforethe guy had let go of the scalpel, cutting the wound open even more. Quickly it was swatted out of his hands and bright spot slowly began to realize his fantasy wasn't coming true. He was cuffed to a chair and separated from the rest who tended to the wound.
The door opened and Newman was standing in it. One of the guards had informed the front desk of the incident and it seems Newman knew it as well. His expression... if a thunderstorm had a face. Dead silence followed as all we could hear were his footsteps as he approached the culprit. He stopped to look at the specimen, the incision very clearly visible. What was a thunderstorm when he came in, became a full-on hurricane. Once he got to the bright spot, he began verbally abusing him in short, loud bursts. You could hear his faint voice apologizing but Newman was not having any of that. He got to a point where he could no longer control his temper, that he slapped him. The sharp sound echoed through the room and left a red mark on the young man's face. That was seemingly all. "Never show your face here again." was the last thing we heard from him as he stormed out of the room.
After a socially awkward lunch, we came back and found that a new laser had been delivered and the young bright spot's desk had been cleaned with no trace of him at all. As if he never existed. I must say, I feel sympathy for the guy. He reminds me of my younger self. So eager to prove his worth while he should be more humbled and learn from more experienced individuals. These same individuals, must now work with one team member down. We resumed our proceedings as usual and we put the scab under the laser. It is a matter of time before we cut through it.
All this calamity over a scab. However, happiness is in the small things is the saying and I personally cannot wait until the laser has done it's job.
Day 4:I suppose the scab analogy can only go so far. Where as I could peel off a scab on my skin with a fingernail and consistent scratching, the fingernail we require would resemble a crowbar more then anything else. I have never seen so many tools being ruined in the process of trying to remove something. We even went ancient in our methods, trying to chisel it out as if we were making a sculpture. No progress to report.
One thing I can tell about today, was that the biggest sleazebag in the world came to visit us this morning. Accompanied by two bodyguards, he came in like he owned the business. Which... he technically does. Walter Newman. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and a-hole first class. Regardless of his behavior, he does have the degrees which is commendable... I guess. After letting everyone get a good look at his presence, we walked over to the specimen and inquired us what we have doing for the past days aside from making a mole that was quote "uglier than his mother-in-law who has been dead for 5 years". I explained to him that the skin was so hard, that even putting a blowtorch at it for 2 hours didn't work. We then told him about the scab theory and then we saw his face light up.
He gave me one hell of an encouraging slap on the shoulder and grandly said why I never asked him for help on that. I think he knows why I and my team didn't ask for it but he had to rub it in. He let go of me and started to walk out with the biggest smirk on his face and a booming laughter. "I will let you borrow my laser nitwit! It will make short work of your scab issue!" And the door closed behind him.
He at least kept his promise. After lunch time it was ready at out laboratory for us to use. We figured we would let our hobbyist set it up. The guide that came with the device was very clear that enough distance needed to be taken and everyone was very happy to take that advice to heart given the stench it was likely to produce. We programmed the laser to follow the outline of the scab while cutting and we would manually stop it once it would come loose. We hope it doesn't take too long.
Day 7Well that took it sweet time. But we finally have it! After extensive manual labor, given that the laser turned out to suffer from performance issues every 3 hours, we have finally have it. The scab hit the ground and it sounded like glass hit the floor. It did not break though. I picked it up and was weighing next to nothing. As if I was completely hollow on the inside. But we had it! It felt so good! 7 days in and all our efforts would be rewarded soon enough. I sent a quick email to Newman to let him know that we were thankful for his laser and that despite it failing on us more times then we would have liked, we accomplished our goal.
I instructed one of the assistants to put this under a microscope and check the entire surface of the scab, particularly the black spots and the underside of it. Well, she did everything she could but the surface was a bust. The black spots and everyone else did not resemble blood. Just discoloration of the skin following the heat of the blowtorch. We must now try to cut it open... at that point I already regretted sending that email. Now he was likely to be angry.
Then again, it was at the end of the day so I do not think I will receive his wrath today. Tomorrow however, I'm not so sure.
Day 8The day started off really nice actually. I opened my inbox to a surprisingly upbeat email from Newman, saying that he regrets saddling us up with insufficient equipment. He said he would drop by today to replace the failing laser with a better one. Until then, we were instructed to theorize what was inside the scab and perhaps look over the surface one more time. Whilst the same assistant as yesterday took it under the microscope, I collected the team and began a brainstorming session near my workstation.
That is when... something unfortunate happened. For clarification, my workstation is only a few steps removed from the specimen. If I look left of my screen, I can see it lying there sedated. Meaning that some of my coworkers were even closer to it. The trouble began when a young bright spot said that it could be possible that, given the black spots, she might bleed black instead of red. It would also save us a lot of time and effort. You could hear the energy and willingness to prove himself in his voice.
Given her mutations, it might not seem like such a farfetched idea that her blood might be a different color compared to ours, but suggesting it is black is absurd. The theory was thrown to the wind.
Then it happened. As if he imagined himself being in a medical drama where everyone was sure his theory was incorrect, he would go against protocol, do what he needed to do and prove to everyone that he was right. He stood up, ran to towards the specimen, grabbed a scalpel and before anyone could stop him, he cut deep into the non-mutated right arm of the specimen. And miraculously, he was dead wrong. Blood came pouring out and it was red. Two guards intervened and pulled him away beforethe guy had let go of the scalpel, cutting the wound open even more. Quickly it was swatted out of his hands and bright spot slowly began to realize his fantasy wasn't coming true. He was cuffed to a chair and separated from the rest who tended to the wound.
The door opened and Newman was standing in it. One of the guards had informed the front desk of the incident and it seems Newman knew it as well. His expression... if a thunderstorm had a face. Dead silence followed as all we could hear were his footsteps as he approached the culprit. He stopped to look at the specimen, the incision very clearly visible. What was a thunderstorm when he came in, became a full-on hurricane. Once he got to the bright spot, he began verbally abusing him in short, loud bursts. You could hear his faint voice apologizing but Newman was not having any of that. He got to a point where he could no longer control his temper, that he slapped him. The sharp sound echoed through the room and left a red mark on the young man's face. That was seemingly all. "Never show your face here again." was the last thing we heard from him as he stormed out of the room.
After a socially awkward lunch, we came back and found that a new laser had been delivered and the young bright spot's desk had been cleaned with no trace of him at all. As if he never existed. I must say, I feel sympathy for the guy. He reminds me of my younger self. So eager to prove his worth while he should be more humbled and learn from more experienced individuals. These same individuals, must now work with one team member down. We resumed our proceedings as usual and we put the scab under the laser. It is a matter of time before we cut through it.
All this calamity over a scab. However, happiness is in the small things is the saying and I personally cannot wait until the laser has done it's job.
Project Scorpion Day 1-3
Posted 6 years agoAudio-to-text translation of the recording of Project Scorpion. "It" by Head Researcher ██. ███████
First recording of Project Scorpion. A very unimaginative name but then again what we are doing here isn't defined by a good, catchy name. Today we finally have what we have been looking for. The specimen has been brought here against her... I mean its will. It's gonna take some time before I get used to calling the specimen an it. Remember what was said; "Treat it as an object, not something equal to you or me."
As I was saying, the specimen was brought here against its will. It put up a good fight too; 3 guys in the hospital beds, one is even in critical condition having received a nasty stab into shoulder. I heard there was also venom involved given that it was a stinger that inflicted the wound... I'm going off topic. Point is, the specimen is here now and is kept sedated until we are done with what we have planned.
So far we have only done some basic testing. Monitored it's heart rate, checked if it was still breathing properly, allowed feeding through an IV drip. We are taking care off it better then most hospital do!
Besides that, I do have some... moral issues with this project. I know it is for a very good cause but this is forcing someone... I mean forcing the specimen to do something it resisted against. We'll do it as quickly as possible and then we'll release it. With a good dose of amnestic of course. In case she... fuck. IT might have heard something about the people working here or where it has been. God forbid that it actually remembered what we all did. I don't see that happening though.
Today was more interesting then the yesterday. We actually tried to get what we are looking for! Of course, we had to check if it was still sedated and functioning properly and it was. After that, started to examine it's most prominent features; the purple mutations. It was so fascinating! It is as hard as rock but I heard that before it became a specimen, it would function like skin would with any living being! I can only imagine the amount of layers this has to be this strong.
This does present a problem however. We have tried to pierce through it; no luck. None of our surgical equipment that was provided to us did the job. First we tried a syringe but it did not take long for it to snap. Thinking we might have pushed too hard, we tried again with a new one but even being cautious did not do it. Then we went over to a scalpel which left not even a scratch. We even tried a bonesaw but that costs the saw its teeth.
One bright mind figured we would try it on her right index finger which was considerable smaller and thinner. Sadly we ended up with the same result; ruining perfectly good tools. Another one said to try in between the more separated layers on her right shoulder. Maybe the skin will be softer there. But not only was it hard to reach, we still couldn't pierce it. I heard that they would be bringing in some "heavier equipment" tomorrow. Once we crack her... dammit I thought I would get clean through this one without messing it up. Once we crack its skin, the project can really start. We need nothing more then that. And although I still have moral issues against it, they weigh nothing in comparison to what's inside of her rock-hard mutations can do for the world.
A bit of a downer today. After the usual check-up, the heavier equipment was brought in. This included some powered saws, bigger blades and even an industrial blowtorch. Always wanted to wear such a big lump of a metal mask so there was fun in that. The bummer came when nothing we tried led to any result. And the person operating the blowtorch was a mechanic and had experience working with metal and construction. "Nothing but a hobby." he assured us. But after 2 hours of continuously trying to cut through? Nothing but spit and sweat. The stench was perhaps even worse then failing. Ever smelled burning skin or burned meat on a bbq? The pits of hell could not even compare. It made my head spin and left me with a bad taste in my mouth for the rest of the day. I was lucky though; we had two assistants vomiting and another fainting properly because her nose didn't want to inhale any air anymore. Can't say I blame it.
There might be a silver lining in this though. The spot where our hobbyist had been scorching is actually drying out. We could see the color difference after it had cooled down. It resembled a mole that looked much more grey then purple. It has cracks in it too. Perhaps it is a scab? If it is and the purple does function like skin does, we could peel it off and then see what secrets it hides! Because a scab contain platelets and dried up blood. We need hers! It's we need.
Project Scorpion will be the greatest success once we can peel it off. We know it's not helping the healing process but as it was said, treat the specimen as an object, not an equal. I guess we will see what the next days may hold.
Figured I would pick up a little bit of my writing after such a long time. I don't expect anyone to know right away what is going on or the purpose of this journal entry, but know that I'll be making more until a certain, something has been posted here on FA.
Keep in mind that this has been written on the fly at 00:25 UTC +1 so I forgive me if I have any grammatical errors in my sentences. :3
Day 1First recording of Project Scorpion. A very unimaginative name but then again what we are doing here isn't defined by a good, catchy name. Today we finally have what we have been looking for. The specimen has been brought here against her... I mean its will. It's gonna take some time before I get used to calling the specimen an it. Remember what was said; "Treat it as an object, not something equal to you or me."
As I was saying, the specimen was brought here against its will. It put up a good fight too; 3 guys in the hospital beds, one is even in critical condition having received a nasty stab into shoulder. I heard there was also venom involved given that it was a stinger that inflicted the wound... I'm going off topic. Point is, the specimen is here now and is kept sedated until we are done with what we have planned.
So far we have only done some basic testing. Monitored it's heart rate, checked if it was still breathing properly, allowed feeding through an IV drip. We are taking care off it better then most hospital do!
Besides that, I do have some... moral issues with this project. I know it is for a very good cause but this is forcing someone... I mean forcing the specimen to do something it resisted against. We'll do it as quickly as possible and then we'll release it. With a good dose of amnestic of course. In case she... fuck. IT might have heard something about the people working here or where it has been. God forbid that it actually remembered what we all did. I don't see that happening though.
Day 2Today was more interesting then the yesterday. We actually tried to get what we are looking for! Of course, we had to check if it was still sedated and functioning properly and it was. After that, started to examine it's most prominent features; the purple mutations. It was so fascinating! It is as hard as rock but I heard that before it became a specimen, it would function like skin would with any living being! I can only imagine the amount of layers this has to be this strong.
This does present a problem however. We have tried to pierce through it; no luck. None of our surgical equipment that was provided to us did the job. First we tried a syringe but it did not take long for it to snap. Thinking we might have pushed too hard, we tried again with a new one but even being cautious did not do it. Then we went over to a scalpel which left not even a scratch. We even tried a bonesaw but that costs the saw its teeth.
One bright mind figured we would try it on her right index finger which was considerable smaller and thinner. Sadly we ended up with the same result; ruining perfectly good tools. Another one said to try in between the more separated layers on her right shoulder. Maybe the skin will be softer there. But not only was it hard to reach, we still couldn't pierce it. I heard that they would be bringing in some "heavier equipment" tomorrow. Once we crack her... dammit I thought I would get clean through this one without messing it up. Once we crack its skin, the project can really start. We need nothing more then that. And although I still have moral issues against it, they weigh nothing in comparison to what's inside of her rock-hard mutations can do for the world.
Day 3A bit of a downer today. After the usual check-up, the heavier equipment was brought in. This included some powered saws, bigger blades and even an industrial blowtorch. Always wanted to wear such a big lump of a metal mask so there was fun in that. The bummer came when nothing we tried led to any result. And the person operating the blowtorch was a mechanic and had experience working with metal and construction. "Nothing but a hobby." he assured us. But after 2 hours of continuously trying to cut through? Nothing but spit and sweat. The stench was perhaps even worse then failing. Ever smelled burning skin or burned meat on a bbq? The pits of hell could not even compare. It made my head spin and left me with a bad taste in my mouth for the rest of the day. I was lucky though; we had two assistants vomiting and another fainting properly because her nose didn't want to inhale any air anymore. Can't say I blame it.
There might be a silver lining in this though. The spot where our hobbyist had been scorching is actually drying out. We could see the color difference after it had cooled down. It resembled a mole that looked much more grey then purple. It has cracks in it too. Perhaps it is a scab? If it is and the purple does function like skin does, we could peel it off and then see what secrets it hides! Because a scab contain platelets and dried up blood. We need hers! It's we need.
Project Scorpion will be the greatest success once we can peel it off. We know it's not helping the healing process but as it was said, treat the specimen as an object, not an equal. I guess we will see what the next days may hold.
Figured I would pick up a little bit of my writing after such a long time. I don't expect anyone to know right away what is going on or the purpose of this journal entry, but know that I'll be making more until a certain, something has been posted here on FA.
Keep in mind that this has been written on the fly at 00:25 UTC +1 so I forgive me if I have any grammatical errors in my sentences. :3
Flashgitz is amazing
Posted 6 years agoSo...
Posted 6 years agoIf you aren't blind, you may have noticed that I deleted any trace of me putting Roxy up for sale. In other words, I'm keeping her locked up tight and in my possession. I just can't lose her you know?
Special thanks to
Doveen who actually commented something that made me realize how big of a mistake it would be to sell her off. Furthermore, me being fired from my previous job (for no goddamn reason) did also have an effect on me as I was worried about money and paid able to pay my bills on time. Or at all for that matter.However, now I got a new job with slightly better pay, I got 91 hours of vacation my previous job still has to pay me and my birthday is coming up in 2 days actually. Fuck time moves fast!
In other words, I needed some downtime and some luck to get myself back together. And that worked :)
So expect more commissions to come from me.
Yuuzea I'm looking at you Frenchy >;) Promotion for YCH
Posted 7 years agoHelp out the Frenchie!
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29446075
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29446075/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29446075/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29446075/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29446075/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29446075/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29446075/
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29446075/RIP Alyah
Posted 7 years agoRIP in riperroni's. She couldn't take the toxic behavior of some thristy f*ckboys anymore. And I don't blame her at all for wanting out, which is what she did.
A little applause for the toxic thristy idiots that are nothing but a rotten, cancerous cyst on this website.
A little applause for the toxic thristy idiots that are nothing but a rotten, cancerous cyst on this website.
---DOOM ETERNAL
Posted 7 years agoARM-MOUNTED PREDATOR BLADE
SHOULDER-MOUNTED GRENADE LAUNCHER/FLAMETHROWER
GATLING SHOTGUN
NEW PLASMA GUN
DOUBLE-BARREL SHOTGUN WITH HOOKSHOT
HELL ON EARTH
RETURN TO PHOBOS
PAIN ELEMENTALS
ARACHNOTRONS
DARK SOULS-STYLE INVASION (CAN BE TURNED OFF)
and most importantly...
LASER
HELL
SWORDthe hype is real...
