[solo] Something's Here I'm Not Quite Getting (Mimsy)

[Nothing Yet]

In an intentional breach of safety regulations, which threatened her with nausea and shaky hands, Mimsy was barefoot in a laboratory again.

This was important. And it had to be, if she was standing in defiance to some of the most crucial sets of rules in her life, rules that stayed concrete and unchanging despite the world's inability to do the same. She was guilty of change too, of course - she just wanted it to be in the right direction.

Which is why she had to try to understand this. She was at a crossroads, and choosing the wrong direction to move forward with could produce inconceivably horrible results.

(Turning back was no longer an option.)

Her eyes settled on the series of objects that sat in front of her on the laboratory table: one pair of bee-colored rain boots, one petri dish, two slides. Each of them were in some way relevant to her recent progress on the long-term experiment of the molecular structure that dictated the existence of love. Each of them were in some way relevant to him, because he said that he loved her, even when nobody else had.

She sighed as her fingers ran the length of one of the boots, covered in grime from some unknown period before they found them. If she was going to keep these, there was no way that this would suffice. She would have to repair the damage from the previous owner's neglect before she wore them again.

With careful steps, she moved to retrieve a small dish of water and an armful of cleaning supplies. This was important, but manageable, and she was going to have exactly what she wanted.  

[Nothing Yet]

Each pass of a wet cloth over the stiff rubber of the boots uncovered a brighter and brighter exterior, a happy sunshine yellow that alternated with faded black. She picked off spots of mildew with her fingernail, and fetched a sponge to scrub off persistent residue that wouldn't come off with the cloth. Her hands moved over them with an atypical level of care, gently and thorough.

When she'd finished, they looked nothing like new. They were still worn and used and lacked flexibility in places, were faded in patches that got too much sun, were scuffed on the insides from brushing against each other. Still, the little bees smiled up at her, bright and cheery and persistent.

Before now, they were nothing that she ever would have wanted, but they were perfect in this moment.

Once they were cleaned to a satisfactory level, she took a scraping from the heel of the right boot; it was the first one she'd put on, and there was a slim possibility that there was some significance there. She chewed her lip in thought as she reached for a clean slide to gently deposit the scraping on, pressing it firmly between two pieces of thin glass. The grains of soil screamed a high-pitched protest as she pinched the slide between her fingers, then placed it under a microscope.

Disappointingly normal. There was decreased activity, but that was fairly typical of Deus, she'd learned. She noted that there was marginally more activity from the organisms than those in previous samples, but found nothing else that interested her.

Frowning, she swept the boots onto the floor with the back of her arm. They still weren't safe to wear, but it was better than a lack of anything. She slipped one foot in, then the other, and wiggled her toes until the boots fit.

Hers now.  

[Nothing Yet]

The next two slides were simple, prepared with relative ease. These were the first kinds of samples that every student examined under a microscope when learning to use it, and she had done this countless times with equipment both at school and home.

It had the same simplicity to her as turning on the television might to anyone else. Almost reflexive.

With a deep breath and high expectations, she tipped her head down to look into the microscope--

An insatiable curiosity could not be told 'no', so she'd looked towards him, as was inevitable; everything stopped, even her breathing, and insistent fingers nudged her chin up, directing her back towards the stars.

She clenched her eyes shut, blindly adjusted the focus, and tried again. The normality surprised her this time - shouldn't it be different? Shouldn't it have some indication of what happened? A growing frustration felt tight in her chest, and she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Surely there was some evidence here.  

[Nothing Yet]

It was understandable, when she thought about it, that there was nothing in the previous samples. They were hers, by technicality, and it made sense that there would be nothing if she tried to see it in herself. She didn't feel it. She couldn't see something in herself that she knew she didn't have. That was so obvious now that she felt idiotic for ever thinking otherwise.

But this was his, blonde and shiny, like a little glint of sunlight beneath the glass. He felt it. There was a far greater change that she would see some difference in his particles when he had it.

She switched the slides and scanned it with an edge of desperation.

Normal.

"Really?" she muttered, flipping the switch to 'off'. Svensyl laughed endlessly in the back of her mind, which turned into a fit of giggles when she looked at the petri dish and found no change at all.

She buried her face in her hands and sighed. This was not what she'd anticipated. After that she would have expected to find something to support her claim, but everything appeared exactly as it always had.  

[Nothing Yet]

She stood with her head in her hands until her elbows ached and her fingers were numb, until it made sense again.

"No wonder," she breathed, picking her head up to look at all of the samples again. How could she have been so foolish? Though these samples were the most relevant samples in a general sense, they missed the mark by a longshot for her ultimate goal.

This had been like looking for antimatter in a cupcake.

What she should have been looking at was cells within tissue from the heart. Had she collected the sample quickly enough...she cursed herself for how impressive she already imagined those results would be. There was so much potential, squandered by obtaining all of the wrong things. Maybe if she had been thinking more clearly, this would not have happened.

She would just have to try harder, over and over again, until she managed the optimal tissue sample. In spite of the tremendous failure she'd encountered here today, it felt like she could do this again. It felt like she knew which path to take.

It felt like she was going to have exactly what she wanted.