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dipperpines-kin · 4 years

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Dayo: Specimen 42 (A Flatland OC One shot)

(This is the first one shot I have written for my Flatland OC Dayo. Feel free to ask questions and follow me for more future Dayo content. Andrew belongs to @charseraph)

It was eleven-year-old Dayo’s first trip out of the sterile facility he had grown up in and he was bubbling with energy as he bounced in his seat. The square beside him keeping a good hold of his arms in case he should fall to the floor an accidentally damage his sides.

Specimens could be clumsy. He barely heard the conversation being spoken to him, something about a school and his first and final placement before the termination day dawned upon him. Dayo hated it, hated that they had allowed him to live, only to use him and then throw him away. But, in some aspects this was a blessing, few of his kind were allowed this gift. So, he had tolerated the experiments, tests and numerous other things the adults had done to learn more of his strange condition, all in preparation for this day. He had been named Dayo by one of the doctors when he was smaller, a name meaning joy, and it fitted him well.

Sotheby’s School for Equilaterals came into focus as his eye caught the sign through the window, and the carriage pulled into the designated parking space and came to a halt. The Square waited for him to stand before fixing up his always messy uniform, making sure the zip was zipped up properly and his number was clear to read. 42 was his ID number, it was also his number on the files they kept of him; he was the 42nd Specimen to enter the walls of the Facility, and always would be.

“I want you to behave, do as your told and eat nicely. They will not tolerate pig manners at this establishment. Do you hear me? As well as that, you will not be disrespectful to the students, or staff, and you will obey, is that clear Dayo?”

Dayo looked up at him, trying not to get his top point caught on anything as he trembled with nerves and excitement, “Yes, sir, one question, sir?”

“Go on”

“What’s for dinner?”

The man told him off for his cheekiness before ushering him out the door and helping him down the steps, “You get one meal a week if I’m correct, or a day, I’m not too sure what the rules of this school are.” he answered, making sure he was listening.

Dayo drooped, of course he wouldn’t be fed much, it was a waste on a specimen like him, and according to the facility he didn’t need as much to eat like the top-quality class that roamed the school he was about to enter. His stomach growled with hunger and he grumped at the injustice of it all. He’d be lucky to get enough food to calm his growling tummy.

“Yes, sir” he muttered, scuffing his feet as he followed along behind him on the path. He looked around as they headed for the school building, students watching him as he passed and whispering snide remarks and rude comments. He kept his eye to the ground, his front heating up in embarrassment. He was a strange one, even among the strange.

He was what they called an Effeminate, a mixture of the two genders, mostly male, but the long point on his top was very much female. When he had been born he had had these sharp points all over him, which the doctors at the Hospital had removed to allow him the advantage of wearing clothes. Then there were the mental issues he suffered from, it had no name, they simply called it a brain sickness, and it wasn’t just him who had it, some Flatlanders in the wider community had it too and did their best to keep it under-control in their every day lives.

While his young peers knew their place and kept quiet and orderly, his brain sickness left him unable to focus, remember important things and unable to realize what was appropriate socially. He’d get into trouble, he never sat still, and he’d talk back with, fight and annoy most of the other specimens that surrounded him in his daily life. Coupled with his overly happy attitude he wasn’t liked very much, but that didn’t stop him in the slightest. Of course they had called this brain sickness of his an opportunity, and a good reason to find a cure. They tested him and poked and prodded him via endless means. But with no promising results, they had left him a bit worse for wear from their experiments when the mission had become a bust. Headaches and breathing issues the most common of his suffering, and being more prone to passing out.

Dayo followed the man down the hallway, looking at all the wonderful things displayed in the cabinets. Trophies, photos, artwork and inventions that had won awards, and admiration of the Circles. His eye turned up into a grin and he wandered over to a cabinet and peered in at the science trophy. It gleamed and shone and made his eye hurt, but it was amazing to look at.

“Dayo! Keep up!”

“S-Sorry sir!” he cried, racing to get back into line and remembering to try to not get into trouble again. He peered around the square’s back as he came to a stop at a room and gazed at the Principal seated at the desk inside, hurried scribbling stuff down into paper. The square bringing him to his placement grabbed him and picked him up with ease, before setting him down in front of him, “This is Dayo, Number 42, you requested him for your students studies?”

The principal’s eye turned up into a grin, “Ah, yes, Number 42, welcome to my school, my name is Mr. Poly, the students here call me Principal Poly, I hope your trip was well?”

Dayo looked at the floor, then at the square, “Y-yes sir...” he said quietly, trying to be polite like he had been taught, and only speak when spoken to. The square patted his back and passed Dayo his things, a spare uniform in case he dirtied the one he was wearing.

“I’ll be off then, Dayo, behave for Mr Poly and his school, I shall arrive to pick you up in a few weeks, good day” the man said, disappearing from the room. Dayo looked down at the pristine uniform in his hands and sighed, “Good day to you too, man whose name I don’t know.”

Mr Poly stood up, “How about I show you where you’ll be staying?” “Yes sir” “Good lad, follow me” the square said, exiting the room quicker than the other square had done. Dayo struggled to keep up, his legs were smaller being so young and with his combined breathing issues he was finding it a bit hard.

Mr Poly stopped and turned around when Dayo refused to answer a question, and was a bit surprised to see he was so far behind, “Slow, huh? I’m not surprised, you are a specimen.” Dayo panted heavily as he came to a stop beside him, “Sorry sir... I have breathing difficulties and short little legs” “Not my problem” Mr Poly replied, gesturing to a shed with hardly a door to call it a room, “Your lodgings are in there, you’re sharing with Andrew, our other specimen.”

Dayo walked up to the shed and peered in to see the older boy sitting on a makeshift bed as he waited for his next lesson. He was a lot thinner than he was, width wise and he was wearing the same (slightly bigger) outfit he was, the number unable to be seen as the fabric wrinkled, “Your Andrew, right? My name’s Dayo! It’s nice to meet you” he said, giving a friendly smile as he held out a hand for him to shake. Mr Poly grumbled, “No touching, that’s a rule, boy.”

“Oh! My apologies” Dayo said sheepishly, retracting his hand and tucking it into his jacket pocket. Andrew glanced at him, acknowledging his presence as he sat there, “It’s nice to meet you, Dayo” he spoke, his voice quiet and expressionless. He sounded so sad when he talked. So robotic, as if he himself were on automatic pilot. Mr Poly gave a satisfied noise and left them to it, but not before passing the younger specimen his time table and the list of rules he would be expected to follow. Dayo’s fingers brushed the words on his timetable, and he smiled softly at the ‘Week One’ printed in bold black ink.

“The countdown begins.” (All my Dayo stuff: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26317900)

#Flatland #dayo #specimen #specimen OC #flatland OC #charseraph #andrew #flatland a romance of many dimensions #oneshot #flatland oneshot #ADHD #Autistic Flatlander #feel free to ask questions

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