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 Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 4:42 pm
After 3 days of recovering in his duplex Richard was ready to venture out again. The solitude had given him time to reflect and organize his thoughts. The momentary loss of Erica’s rings had turned his thoughts away from the island and into the past where he had known a truly happy life. While their marriage had not been without trials and hardship their dedication to each other had been absolute. Her fiery attitude and passion for the causes she fought for, had energized Richard. While working to finance her trips and funding civil rights organizations meant he was helping make the world a better place through her. He was the fuel for her fire. For both of them it had a been an ideal partnership that had grown far beyond the limitations of romance.
While the memories of Erica’s passing would always be a sobbing wound within his heart, Erica could not be not be taken away. Richard had begun to realize this as he stared at the rings he clutched within his fist. Nobody can take thirty years of happiness away. While fond memories do not change the now they do provide perspective. In Richard’s mind his life was complete, he would die here but that would only be a fitting conclusion, while seeking to expose a terrible truth. It would have been how she wished to go.
Yet, He wasn’t dead yet. There were still things he could do. But what? Perhaps he could aid an escape, comfort the others, some how help make the island’s existence bearable. Some one had to end or at least out last this atrocity to tell the world what had happened here. The existence of the graveyard and his injury might have shattered his ideas for an islander made memorial but there had to be other things he could do. Compiling information about the staff might be a first step? Know your enemy and all that. He was sure he would find better ideas outside the walls of his duplex.
It took him nearly three hours to modify his new lightweight suits to accommodated all his limbs with the scissors in his pocket knife. He lined the holes with scotch tape to prevent further fraying. It took another hour to figure out how to put it on. The final solution involved pinning the shirt and jacket to the door frame. Once he managed to thread his tentacles through the holes the back then he realeased his arm from its sling and jam it through the sleeve. That last part was so painful he caught himself growling.
Once he finished, he combed his hair and trimmed his mustache. He looked human again and somewhat professional. The rough cut holes in his shirt for the little arms damaged the effect, the sling covered one of them up at least. Still, Richard was happy with this nod to normalcy. He adjusted his glasses and strode out into the sunlight.
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Posted: Tue Nov 07, 2006 7:13 am
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Posted: Wed Nov 08, 2006 8:44 pm
Brian had retreated to his room after his initial encounter with Zachary, thinking long and hard. He'd somehow managed to completely miss a halloween party of some sort- or at least, that's what he gathered from the tent being taken down. Oh well, he wasn't big on parties anyways. Brian had more important things to think about, though- the experiments they were doing on this island, for one. The 'dragon' he'd encountered was thrilling and exciting, at first- human-created sentience in an animal! Magnificent! Wondrous! But... did it really serve a purpose? How many animals like him had failed and been culled? How much pain and suffering did these labs put animals through? And more importantly, how on earth was his research linked to all of it??
Too much to think about, really. He forced himself outside to explore the immediate area, to get his bearings in the case that they'd want him to stay more than a few days. It struck him as rather odd that no guide was provided for him, no tour or explanation from a lower-ranking official. Strange indeed. It was with these thoughts swirling around in his head that the field biologist found himself in the 'entertainment room' (although he'd no idea that was its given title) and poring through the DVD titles on the shelves, not really reading them so much as wasting time and trying to make himself feel busy.
Richard was looking to relax. His encounter with Billy had continued to replay itself in his head. The octopus' territoral instincts had clearly overpower the man's rational thoughts and Richard was concerned with his own mental health. Had he been doing anything he wouldn't do ordinarily? He didn't think so, besides that incident at the halloween party. He was still himself as far as he could tell.
Still, his mind was beginning to feel like a hamester wheel. With the memorial project dead, and he couldn't find Gaius anyway, Richard was out of ideas.
So like before, Richard decided to take the day off. Try not to worry about anything for a day. He would have gone fishing but it didn't seem like a good idea with his arm in a sling. So a couple movies might do instead.
He walked into the entertianment room wearing one of his modified suits, holes for his little arms and tentacles. His cane in his left hand, the right arm in a sling.
Having spent years in an occupation where most of what he did was sitting and watching, Brian had picked up the habit of checking over his shoulder on a rather regular basis. He did so a short moment after Richard entered (perhaps triggered by the vague recognition of the sound of a door being opened). Only getting a brief glance- clearly not enough of one to see extra limbs or even tentacles of a most outragous sort- the redhead turned back to the shelves. This person was human, and so had to be one of the researchers- Brian didn't want to bother him, or get in his way. If the elder man intended to speak with him, he'd let him initiate the conversation.
Richard stopped and studied the man standing by the DVD's for a moment. He was human, and one Richard hadn't seen at the Halloween party. Predictably he could just see the tips of his tentacles out of the corner of his eyes as they lowered into a striking pose. He mentally clicked on the "safety" He didn't need another accident.
The thought of ignoring the man crossed his mind but he quickly crushed it. Someone normal and rational would be refreshing after the octopus man. Did he have any letters? No. Well he could point the man out in the direction of the bulletin board if he needed to.
Richard moved in the direction of the DVD collection where Brian stood. He smiled that gentle smile of his although he didn't really feel it. "Hello there." Really, Richard just looked tired at the moment.
Brian turned, the beginnings of the faint smile he would have forced on his face trickling away at the sight of the man's bizarre... growths. He immediately began to wonder how hot it was in the room, what he'd eaten that day, and how much sleep he'd had- because really, he simply had to be hallucinating.
He rubbed his eyes, and smiled a small, nervous smile, if only to return the man's favour. "Hi," he said, rather simply, and quickly added more to it so that he didn't sound so dense. "You're one of the scientists working here, I assume?"
So he didn't know. Damn. Richard shook his head sadly. "I was a scientist before I retired. That was a long time ago though." He extended his left hand after a breif twing of pain shot up his right arm when he attempted to move it. "I'm Richard. Retired Physiologist, captured reporter and now..." He shrugged. "An experiment of Dr. Moreau's. Just like everyone else."
Richard watched Brian closely.
What Richard would see was a quick furrowing of the brows, a slight involuntary flaring of the nostrils, and the parting of lips in preparation for speech which never came. The pause was long, and Brian took this time to solidly consider what was going on. He decided that he didn't really know, and did the first thing that came to mind. "...what... what do you mean?"
No panic. That was good. Although there was some temptation to just hit him with the tentacles to smash the wall of denial that he could see Brian summoning up. The tentacles danced at the thought, straining againist the "safety" muscle.
No... the man didn't deserve that... yet. RIchard closed his eyes and visably exhaled. Then he smiled sadly this time and let his hand fall. "Son, I suggest you have a seat for a moment. Listen to what I just said. Then I'll explain further." Make him process it a little. Otherwise this would get no where.
Part of Brian's mind (the one minescule fraction that wasn't doing a magnificent metaphorical impression of a seagull in a typhoon) objected to being called 'son', on the grounds that he was, first and foremost, an adult, and secondly that he didn't know this man well enough to endure such friendly reference. But then that silly, unimportant thought was quashed. Something far bigger was going on.
Listening to Richard's suggestion, the biologist straightened and went to a sofa, sitting down and looking expectantly at him. "What do you mean, you're his experiment?" 'Human testing. Ohgodohgod they're doing human testing.'
Richard could almost see the gears grinding through Brian's head. He turned away to inspect the DVD collection, giving the man a very good look at the tentacles sprouting from his back.
As he searched for a good Bond flick, he spoke. "Techinically my "serum" was developed by a man named Sabin Durvert. A underling of Moreau's. Most of the people here are being their DNA blended with that of an animal or several animals, in my case." Richard was trying very hard to act non chalant about it, but could not keep an angry terseness from creeping into his voice. He plucked a DVD from the shelf. His tentacles writhed in the air, wanting to strike something, anything!
He turned to pop the DVD in the player. "Did you get an injection?" He grinned a bit, revealing his enlarged canines.
"Yes, I did," Brian answered warily. He didn't remember getting it, but he certainly saw the mark. "Blending DNA? That's not possible. It can't be." But it all seemed to make a little too much sense- collecting all those samples, all that data, answering the bizarre questions that the main office would spout at random. DNA? But what about- "Zachary," Brian muttered, and then asked more loudly, "The creature that's called Zachary. He claims to be a dragon, when clearly there's no such thing as dragon DNA."
He scoffed at the very notion. "This must be some kind of joke. I'm sure the labs are just producing some highly intelligent test-tube animals, that's all." But still... all the human mannerisms, and how would he explain away the disfigurement of the man right in front of him? It was all too much. He paused, and suddenly asked, "Who's in room number-" (he hadn't yet been conditioned to call them duplexes) "-one, and five?" Off the top of his head, those two were the only ones he remembered. He'd left the little note safe back in the desk drawer.
Impossible? No it wasn't impossible. The quicker the man learned that, the better. Richard actual beared his teeth at Brian for a brief moment and then looked away, down on the coffee table infront of Brian. Richard's eyes fell on a DVD case that someone hadn't put away. The "safety" and the tentacle's sprung and slammed into the case stretching about twice its length to do so. Both tentacles adhered, and the case rocketed toward's Richard's face. Richard wasn't quite fast enough to catch it with his left hand but was able to block it. The tentacle ripped from the plastic surface with an audible pop and the case fell to the ground.
"Immpossible doesn't exist on this island." He stated, breathing slightly heavy.
Then he remembers the duplex questions. "Duplexes 1 and 5? That's Ambrose and Pyroth. Why?"
Brian stood. The strange display was more than enough to convince him that even if people weren't being experimented on, something seriously wrong was going on on this island. "Nevermind," he muttered in reply to Richard's answer about the duplex residents. Two names. What good were they to him? Regardless, he made a mental note to himself to jot them down later. 'Room 1 and 5 - Ambrose, Pyroth'.
Rubbing the side of his temple with two fingers, he scowled darkly. "I... I'm not sure what to say. I'd better be going." And without so much as a goodbye, Brian turned and headed for his duplex at a brisk pace. He needed a nap, pronto.
Guess that had been a little to much for the man. He watched Brian begin to stand and his face turned to sympathy. He wasn't being very tolerant. "Look, I know its alot to process, go read the welcome letter on the bulletin board." He Frowned as Brian seemed to ignore him and head for the door. He called after him, "Oh if you see Ambrose, tell him hi for me, He's the wolf man!"
Then Brian was gone. Richard was alone again. Pity.
He picked up the remote and the TV flickered to life.
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2006 4:23 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2006 4:26 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2006 4:27 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2006 4:28 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2006 4:30 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2006 4:34 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2006 4:35 pm
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2006 4:37 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 3:41 pm
It is undoubtable that given how much Richard has been soliciting information from others on the island that he knew that his deadline was approaching. One can only go so long on the island before changing. Once one seems to finally accustomize themselves to one form, they lose even more until the day reaches that they are complete and strike a strange comprimise of stability for some of the last dregs of their humanity. While that day is still a long way off for Richard, today is the day that he takes a long stride in that direction. As always, it is forecasted by bad dreams and a sudden illness. Hot flashes, nausea and achiness. His whole body is sore, and building for an unavoidable experience.. By midday, you are sweating profusely. Your whole body feels jibby and uncertain, and the first sign of the impending change is a sudden, squirming pain at the base of the spine as you too learn what it is like to grow a tail. A long, fleshy appendage with only a few scattered traces of dark fur snakes out over the brim of your pants, writing in the pain that its own growth is causing. That thin, trickling hair appears elsewhere on your body - Your back, your arms, your chest - not nearly thick as to be constituted as actual fur, but a whisper of what is to come. Your hands and feet broaden, all the while your girth seems to be lessening -giving you the worst stomach ache in recent memory, and a distinct need to flee to an available toilet. Your fingernails drop off as if they had been slammed into a door, while your bones grind, and new, thick, bony claws emerge in their stead. While these new claws are not yet retractable, they are the hooked, sharp feline claws. All but a few hairs from your mustache fall out - but those that DO remain are long, thick and sensitive. Your eyes widen, and their hue shifts a few notches towards green. Your ears stretch longer, and then your tiny armlike appendages push longer in a pain mirroring your grown tail - the blobby ends crunching and twisting and tiny fingers emerge - the appendages unmistakable as feeble arms - deformed mockeries of your original ones. Finally, the changes abate. You are left more different than before - much thinner, although none of the weight has left your 'pectoral region' - and, strangely enough, if anything, it almost seems larger, and more sensitive. Contrastly, there is even more shrinkage down below. If there can be any saving grace - your tentacles do not appear to have changed at all. 
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Island of Moreau Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 5:00 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2006 9:22 pm
Interview with Big Hat.
Richard stared at his notebooks that sat on his desk. He had recorded everything he had heard, said, and done since arriving on the island. As he looked through them he grew frustrated. While he had met more people, it only accounted for about a quarter of the island's population. Not much of a tight knit community. Everyone had been self adsorbed with their own problems and changes. And he had been no exception. Since his first change he had spent more time in his duplex than any where else. He had blamed his injury but it seemed like a weak excuse now. While there were bright spots, the message board was being used and people had read his letters but he had done nothing since his first change.
That had to change. He could do as Pyroth asked, but that was soo dangorous it gave him pause. Pyroth was a friend, not a dog. It had been ten years since he had held a scaple.
What about Moreau? All he knew about him was mostly second hand. Could he find out more?
Lost in his thoughts Richard barely noticed that he had reach out and hit the intercom button above his desk.
A moment later, following a mechanical beep, a nasal woman's voice sounded over the intercom. "Feral Laboratories... how can I help you?" The boredom was evident in her tone
Richard's brows furrowed for a moment. Well, waiting for information to trickle down wasn't getting him any where. Well nothing useful at least. Asking directly couldn't hurt could it? Moreau had waited until the interview was over to inflict his experiment upon Richard. Would he entertain another interview? Only one way to find out.
"Yes, I'd like to speak to Dr. Nicholous Moreau please."
"I'm sorry, Doctor Moreau is unavailable at the moment." The response was curt, but equally bored.
[21:54] Drp321: Richard hmpfed. Interesting, the receptionist's response was instantanous. Was that policy or was Moreau truly unreachable? What ever it was, it did not sound negoatible. Richard considered giving up but there was another staff member that might be more inclined to speak with him. Richard had plenty of questions for him also. They were slightly more personal but no less valid.
"Is Dr. Duvert avaible?"
"Hold, please." She responded. There was no information forthcoming, no friendly "please hold", just a click... then silence. The silence stretched. No hold music, no beeping... for thirty seconds... a minute... two.
Then, finally, a beep and Dr. Duverts French-accented voice came over the loudspeaker. "Ahh, Richard. What is the occasion?"
Richard paused a moment to consider his tactics. This had been a spur of the moment thing and he didn't have the luxerly of plotting out the possible flows of conversation. He recalled his previous conversation with Sabin. Sabin admired cursiousity, perhaps he would reward it. Richard smiled in a friendly fashion and directed his gaze toward the blank screen.
"The occiasion is nothing more than curisiosity and perhaps a bit of boredem on my part."
"welll.." Sabin drawled out, seeming a bit surprised by the spontaneity. "I must admit surprise... people rarely call the labs wihtout a reason. Especially when they first ask for Moreau himself."
Sabin smirked, tapping his finger on the desk.
That was a tidbit that Richard had hoped that receptionist would not pass on. Not that it totally surprised Richard but when requesting an interview with someone it was important to them feel like they were your first choice. Reguardless of the reality of the matter.
"Well I could certianly bore you with requests for cigarretes and the like before getting to the heart of the matter if you perfer." Richard smirked gentlely. "Dr. Durvet what I'd like to do is to gain a better understanding of this project. Perpective if you will. I have questions about the project and it's purposes. I'll talk to anyone willing to entertain them. Indeed your answers might be far more relevant to my... personal experiances."
"Ahh, so there is a heart of the matter. I had figured as such." Sabin laced his fingers and leaned forward against the desk. Richard, as he had observed and read from his files, had been quite the investigator. Not surprising considering what landed him on the island to begin with.
"I will certainly listen to where your thoughts have been leading. And I can respect your enthusiasm and interest. But I cannot promise answers."
Sabin smirked. So he'd heard. Which likely mean that he had an indication of his fate, or at least a vague notion. Perhaps.... perhaps...
He eyed the stack of paperwork on his desk. While there were certainly advantages to Moreau and Aubrey being out of town, and being in charge... that's right. IN CHARGE. Him. again.... ... at least for the moment. But... there were also distinct disadvantages.
"Perhaps, Richard. Unfortunately I've got my work cut out for me as of late. But..." He tapped a button, and Sabin's face appeared on the blank screen in front of Richard.
"Maybe this is a bit better? Now... you have heard of Beastie?"
Richard looks mildly disappointed at the refusal of a face to face meeting. "I'll have to take what I can get." He smiled good naturedly. This was not ideal at all. He hadn't had time to compose a list of questions for Sabin. It wasn't the way it usually worked, you request an interview and set a date or more often they refused and Richard stalked them for a couple days before cornering them in a bar. To say, "All right, lets talk right now." Was unheard of. Still Richard had to work with what he had and roll with Sabin's sudden openness.
He would have perfered to not start with his own animal, it ran the risk of upsetting Richard, not something he wanted to be right now. He need to be in perfect control. Still it was what he had to work with.
"Yes, ran into Awen the other day. The girl seemed share your brand of enthusaism. Can't say I've run across anything called a misplacer beast the mythological section of the library. But it is rather small."
"Ahhhyes, Awen." Sabin had a need to speak with her again. He hadn't had the opportunity since she had been brought into the labs to deal with complications. But he was glad she was alright nonetheless.
"Misplacer beast?" Sabin's grin truned wry. Let him research it by that name and see how far it got him. "Yes, the mythology section in the library is unfortunately small. Perhaps I shall see about expanding it."
Fortunately, Richard could see Sabin's grin now that his face was displayed on the monitor. It was pretty plain to him that he had something wrong about the creature. He also knew enough about Sabin to know that getting a straight answer out of the man was improbable. Perhap he could get a hint. "Which culture dreamed these things up anyway?"
Well, Richard was lackng the books to examine the evidence anyway. What was the harm - especially in being vague. "Why our own of course. Tsk tsk tsk." Sabin smirked wider, almost challengingly.
Richard pondered that for a moment. "Mrrrmm. That is both disturbing and ressuring. Not to mention utterly frustrating. I think I have the encylcopedia of mythological animal memorized now." Richard looked a bit angry but consiously softened his expression. "Cat with six legs and two tentacles. I'll just try to thankful that it wasn't a gaint squid. I'm rather fond of my back bone."
Enough about him though, Richard wanted information about the island and its staff. His expression turned more somber as he flipped a notebook open in front of him. "Sabin,could I ask what exactly is your position on the island?"
: A triumphant smirk crossed his face at Richard's frustration. "Well, it sounds like someone at least painted you an apt picture. And yes, I suppose your fate would be better than the invertebrates. See? And who says that my serums are an unlucky fate?"
"And my position? Well, you might say that being separated from the 'real' world is very much a departure from your normal business heirarchy.... although my position here is admittedly a respected one here."
Oh this was going to go swimmingly, Richard could tell. Sabin seemed to take pleasure in being cryptic. "Well in lieu of things such as paychecks, I assumed titles take a bit more importance." He shrugged. "I could be wrong on that point." Richard was getting into interview mode, smiling a easy grin.
"You certianly seem to high enough up to create a number of your own special projects. A dragon, a Gryphon, a Pegaius and well me. Have I missed anyone? Is there a purpose higher than you own... satifaction making these people into the images of mythological creatures?
'Titles are all but irrelevant at a certain point. But there is certainly a heirarchy. A pecking order, a chain of command... you get the picture, my friend. And what would a title mean to you? A designation? A word that might mean nothing to you out of context?" Richard certainly seemed to have caught Sabin in a rather ... 'playful' mood.
"And yes, I do take pride in my projects. And more have undoubtedly slipped your notice, particularly considering your necessity of a book to aide you in the identification of your own 'species'. And why? Does an explanation for a few newer creations in light of the situation, where men are becoming beasts to begin with from Moreau's own research seem really that out of place?" The feigned look of innocence was far from convincing.
Richard took Sabin's refusal to indictate an position in the heirarchy to indicate that it was topic that Sabin had some uneasiness about or it was something that was within flux. Sabin current position might not be that stable. He have to ask some of the older islanders about it. He let that topic fall and focused his energy on decipering Sabin's other dialog.
Richard crossed his arms, the little ones following suit. "The unreality of the entire situation aside. Dr. Moreau strikes me as a man who is vigoriously opposed to unproductive fantasy. He must be deeply endebted to you in some way. But I'm not asking for his reason for allowing your work." Richard leaned closer to the intercom. "I'm looking for why you feel the need to make us myths."
"Who said anything about unproductive?? I think that their creation is quite productive. But then again, your opinion in the matter doesn't really have an affect on my creations. Quite the contrary, your sole exitance is furthering my goals. And as to what those are... well. Inquiring minds do want to know, but where is the fun in divulging the game?" Was there even really a game? Or was Sabin caught up in the toying with Richard..?
Richard sat back and looked the man with a quizical eye. Sabin was talking in circles, ignoring the dig at Richard's "purpose" for now he fought the temptation to lecture Sabin on the morality of his "Research." That would probably be like talking to a brick wall. The game was far to new for that. Sabin had to enjoy his company before that would have a prayer of working. What he needed was a new angle.
After a pause. "I don't suppose we're trial runs for your own serum?"
A brief flicker of confusion passed his face. "Your serum... or my serum?"
Richard grinned a bit at disrupting Sabin's train of thought. He continued the train of thought, hopefully using Sabin's own twist logic agianist him. "From our earlier conversation I would have imagined the possiblity occurred to you. After all you seem intent on not devolving the humans under your care. But rather going forward, making them legendary as it were. Surely as must have considered undergoing the process yourself as fascinating as it is." Richard wanted to add a bit about feral Lab's retirement plan but didn't want to terminate the conversation like that.
At first, Sabin said nothing, but flashed Richard a particularly toothy grin. He had had similar conversations with Aubrey before, with similar accusations.
"I will not deny that the thought has certainly crossed my mind.... beyond that... I deign to comment."
Richard nodded. At least he had regained some control of the conversation. "Tell me, beyond satifying Moreau's stated desire to turn poeple in animals because it is within his ablities, has the research here produced any positive medical implications that are applicable without the... side effects." Richard glanced up at a tentacle.
Sabin smiled, here was a safer topic. "As a matter of fact, I can say that it has. I know that some of the fundamental research on this island is being broken down and filtered for possible medical use."
That was at least kind of heartening. "Can you tell me about Moreau and Aubrey's relationship?"
"Depends on the day of the week." Sabin responded sardonically. Truth be told, it was difficult to gauge their current standing. While they were yet again engaged, and even a date set, Sabin still had his doubts to how Aubrey really felt about the matters. Or even if she really knew herself or was just burrying her true sentiments with layers of optimism.
Richard nodded. "That was more than I expected to hear from you. Rather hard to properly gossip with recordings everywhere. If news of their troubles filters to me... I imagine the island's power structure is a bit less than stable sometimes."
"Afterall if Ginvera is the general quality of the staff it must be precarious." Richard watched Sabin's face carefully as he let that name slip.
"You can believe whatever you like." Sabin responided unconcerned. "I can tell that you are trying to pull information from me. But regardless of what you believe, I am afraid to say that the power of the staff over the islanders is certainly quite secure."
Richard sighed, that had been a dead end, but he could go back to that from a different direction perhaps. Ah yes, Sabin would probably love talking about that... Richard resumed his smiling interview face. "You are the man behind the halloween festivities correct?" It was an opener, Richard wanted to see how much Sabin would crow about his party.
Sabin paused, eyes narrowing suspiciously. But then again, he knew that thanks to Ginerva, it was no great secret. "You might say that..."
The answer was appearently not much. Ah well, hopefully he could pry loose a couple nuggets of info. Should have allowed Sabin to toy with him more, if Sabin no longer was having fun, he might cut him off. "Oh come on Dr. Duvert, surely that whole night must have been alot of extra effort on your part. I hardly see the point in denying it."
Sabin's expression turned into a wry smile. "You seem to think that it is you that I am trying to impress, Richard. Or anyone beyond my own sake and amusement. You must realize one thing. You are no longer 'the press'. You are no longer some individual to be respected by authority or even an individual that needs to be humored. If I decide to speak with you, it is because I am gracing you with my time and attention as a favor. You have no power here, as much as you might be loathe to admit it." He rested his chin on his hand.
Well that was better than nothing. Richard had interviewed several rough characters before, although with at least one or two bodyguards present. Again the urge to lecture on the morality of the situation arose but Richard knew it would be counter productive. He kept his stance open and tried not to look defensive. "I'm only looking to fully understand the situation I inhabit, whether socially or scienifically. You have power over me. I respect that I'm not questioning that." For the moment at least. You after all did reveal to us the 'cost' of this research. That honestly is, at least admirable. Have you caught Annie yet?"
"You have as deep of an understanding of your place as most of your brethren do, RIchard. You seek not information, but leverage." Sabin observed sharply. "When you cometo accept your place which - I do not believe you have - then you will find the rest that your mind needs."
A brief flicker of a frown played across his face at the mention of Annie, then relaced again by the wry smirk. "How do you know that we even wish to catch her? It has been months, do you not think that we could have brought her back to the labs by now if we wished?"
Richard's 'place' as far he was concerned was attempting in anyway to make Sabin and his fellow staff members lives as difficult as possible. He just hadn't come up with a good way to do it with bringing reprisals upon himself. What he was fighting for was at least a grudging respect from Sabin and any other staff member. Build a relationship with your captors all his hostage courses had told him. As long he kept talking without devaluing himself he worked toward that goal.
"Because it makes no sense to have her loose killing your own people. I cannot imagine the effect on moral. She's your frankstienian boogy man." Richard's smile deepened just a bit. "As for accepting my position, why wouldn't I? I've seen the world, had thrity years of happy marriage. What more can you ask for right? Its the all the damn kids that are here that really get my goat. Some future they have to look forward to." Richard stopped, he was being dangerously honest.
"I did not pick the arrivals in all but a very rare case. However, what do people have to look forward with their lives in any instance? Is this situation worse than, perhaps, growing up in some of the nations that you have visited in your travels? I am certain that being stuck here you have your opinions, but despite being out in the world many are equally trapped in their situations. Perhaps not some of the ones that have been brought here, but as they say... you cannot pick your fate. There are lurking dangers present in even the most suburban lifestyle." Sabin waved his hand with a roll of his eyes.
"But I owe you no explanation or justification." Sabin grunted. Why did Moreau pick this one for his serum? He certainly was contrary, and looking for any crack that he could find.
"Oh don't get me wrong Doctor. In the Congo, people are so miserable that this situation would seem like paradise. They would love you forever like Colche. Why Dr. Moreau hasn't taken advantage of that I have no idea, I will be certian to ask him when I have a chance.since you have no say in the matter. Afterall nine grave stones arn't enough to be considered an atrosity right? Does Feral Labs have any offical comment on what went wrong with Annie?"
"You ought to do that." Sabin responded with a sardonic smile. "See what he says. And no 'official' comment, no. Of course not." Sabin grinned, enjoying playing on his words.
Richard dutifully wrote down "No comment." In the notebook infront of him. Then he looked up at Sabin and smile pleasently at him. Well Dr. Durvet I have no more questions that I think you'll answer. So unless you would like to enlighten me as to your hypothesizes that you alluded to in our previous conversation on the physological implications of the transformations, which I would admittiedly be interested in hearing. Then I bid you a good day."
"All I will say in that regards is that at this point, the specific psychological repercussions are under investigation. There has been evidence that there is a great deal of variation from subject to subject. But whether that is a result of the serums themselves or merely the psychological stability of the subjects to begin with... it is difficult to discern. I am certain that there is a given influence from both, but as to how much..." He shrugged his shoulders.
Richard's eyebrows went up. He had assumed that Sabin was done giving him anything useful. "So it isn't predictable at all?" Islanders and their varying levels of instinctual behavior flashed through his mind. "Any trends?"
"there have been a few, but I do not think that you will like them. Angharad aside and her.. unique situation, there have been a few trends."
Which of course meant he was enroute to a negative "trend." He just hoped he kept more brain cells than Zach but refrained from saying so. Sabin had some sort of fondness for the dragon appearently. "Such as?"
"well.... Felines in particular seem to have a trend towards ... eccentrism, moreso than even most of the predators. But.. who knows. Perhaps the fact that you are not feline alone should help... Zachary seems to be primarily stable when it is not immediately following a change."
At the mention of Zachery and stable Richard looked down at his now mostly healed shoulder. "Right..." He said quietly then turned back to Sabin. "I'm afraid I haven't met any feline islanders yet. What kind of eccentrism?" This topic add managed to unerve Richard a bit but he could not help picking at the wound so to speak.
"It depends on the individual. Perhaps it has something to do with the natural quirkiness of even normal felids." Sabin's eyes flicked to Richard's shoulder. "Most individuals are a bit surly with alcohol in the mix, dragons or otherwise."
"So, what feline exactly is.. beastie?" Richard had no idea what Sabin considered a pet. He somewhat imagined a two story monstiouity kept at the labs.
Sabin smirked. "Beasite? Beastie is just a housecat." Sabin said with a blithe smile.
"But, I should be getting back to work now. Perhaps some day you'll be able to meet him. And I assume that you'll be keepign in touch - I must say that your progress is of interest to me, as you already know." Sabin reached for the disconnect button.
Richard nodded, feeling a bit drained from the conversation. "Good day then, pass my regards on to Moreau. I'm sure we'll speak again."
Sabin nodded. "I shall be certain to do so." And as soon as he had said that, the image went back to the neutral white of the plastic around it, and the audio line was cut with a soft beep.
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