Personal Journal (Theodore Srivastava, MBBS-MD) / Entry 0864 / 2559-10
>>: The recovered individuals had required extensive medical care on arrival, and a battery of diagnostic testing to understand their biology enough to successfully deliver treatment and establish a safe continuity. Commander Mallah had offered to loan me a few techs from the Xeno lab for consultation. For humans.
Their rate of healing has been extraordinary however, and there's blessedly no signs of preliminary rejection to organ tissue, structural implantation, or soft tissue grafts. Primarily just scattered ecchymosis for two out of the three. It's remarkable.
Examination is on-going, several rounds daily, and expected to continue for a series of weeks to establish more reliable trends.
They'll be with us for the duration of course.
There's nowhere else to go.
We've learned that the individuals represent a third generation of Spartans, and their...atypical lab results have been casting long shadows to say the least. More of the UNSC's deeply forbidden secrets are filling our charts in waves and creating a lot of unease regarding this sub-category's uniquely dangerous mutagenic traits. These features are remarkable for organic changes in their brain tissue and gross manipulation of the endocrine system. Even considering the total divorce of human ethics that the Spartan programme already represents, this seems a startling escalation.
What is happening back home to have prompted such a chilling devaluation of human life?
The discomfort amongst my staff is overwhelming their fascination.
It's not yet clear if the Spirit's limited facilities can even maintain the critical needs of these new and terrifying soldiers. What is the margin for error on the consistency of their 'smoother' dosages? How short exactly is the fuse on their hormonal detonators? Could a scuffle in the mess hall lead to a massacre?
They're bracingly young, but noticeably removed from the common traces of youth. The scars between them are enough to trade away for decades of warfare.
Myself and other providers have found their temperament similar to the Spartans of Red Team at least. Polite. Professional. Human certainly, though most of my staff have remarked negatively on their atonal general expression and significant lack in sense of social familiarity.
Truthfully, after the hell they'd undertaken groundside (and surely horrors years before now), I find it callous to hold 'being withdrawn' against them. They do not shy from eye contact, and when one looks back with not the eyes of a provider, but the eyes of a man, it is clear that these Spartans too know fear and sadness and heartbreak.<< //
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“I need a life.”
...
Will they or Won’t they | Chrono
PREV / NEXT
RAI: Lulu, Duke. Matt is finally out of the house.
RAI: I know I know, you two are going to miss him, giving you guys extra treats. You didn't think I knew huh.
Lulu & Duke *just staring at Rai*
RAI: …I need a life. Come on, let's go for a walk.
*Duke not moving from his spot*
RAI: Huh? You don't wanna go? Fine, we'll be back soon.
…
[25 minutes later]
RAI: You ready to go back home Lulu? It's hot today.
BRUNO: …Excuse me.
RAI: Yes- *stunned* Bruno?!
BRUNO: Hey...Rai.
BRUNO: It's been a while hasn't it.
RAI: Yeah…it has.
BRUNO: Is it okay if I sit beside you?
RAI: Yeah, of course.
…
BRUNO: So are you still making music?
RAI: Not as much, but yeah sometimes.
BRUNO: That's good, I would love to hear some.
RAI: ...
BRUNO: You look good by the way, have you been working out?
RAI: I've been playing a little bit of basketball on & off.
*Lulu barking at Rai*
BRUNO: Who is this little pup?
RAI: Lulu.
BRUNO: *petting the dog* Hey there little lulu.
RAI: I got another one back at home too. His name is Duke.
RAI: …
…
BRUNO: You stopped messaging me.
RAI: Life got busy…
BRUNO: Guess you can say the same for me as well.
RAI: You could've told me that, instead of me thinking that you ghosted me. For almost a year.
BRUNO: You also could've done the same.
RAI: *sigh* So that's how we doing this?
…
RAI: What are you doing in the valley.
BRUNO: Finally visiting.
BRUNO: Could we go back to your place and talk more privately.
RAI: *scoffs* Sure, why not.
...
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is msh ever getting finished? i got so attached to them…
Hopefully yes. MSH suffered very hard from what RnS is suffering from now: a handful of chapters that, for no good reason, are terribly hard to write. I started and stopped the current chapter of MSH at least 8 times, and will probably do it 8 more times before it stops feeling like an awkward mess.
All that to say I plan on coming back to it, just as soon as it cooperates with me again. In the meantime, here's a snippet of the chapter that'll probably be cut but who knows:
The mist had thinned to a sheer veil by the time they made it to town, collecting in the dips and hollows in the fields like the bustles on a quilt. The sun worked hard to burn it away, but it clung stubbornly to the ground, making the air heavy and leaving dewdrops on every surface in sight. Even the windows of the houses were streaked with damp as though rain had passed over, and the half-clouded sky made the illusion all the more convincing.
This early in the morning, Haltvale was slow to come to life, but it was. Gardens were being tended, and people walked in pairs or small groups to their errands, rubbing sleep from their eyes and talking quietly. Theirs was the only wagon on the main road, a slow rumbling of solitary and distant thunder, and folks made room for them as though they were a rain cloud passing through. Ren frowned when he noticed it, casting puzzled looks at all the wary glances in their direction. The prickling of eyes watching etched patterns across his spine, and it disturbed him even more when he turned to confront those stares, only the watch as gazes abruptly averted and paces quickened. Doc seemed to sense it too, because he kept his eyes on the road, his expression grave. His normal bright and welcoming greetings were absent, replaced by hunched shoulders and the firm line of his frown.
"Did something happen?" Ren whispered, biting his lip nervously. "Everyone's on edge."
"Well I don't know, Ren," Doc smiled grimly, "has something happened in the past couple days that might put people on edge?"
Ren winced and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. He let the conversation drop just as quickly as it started, the trundle of their wheels on the rutted road filling the silence. At last, Doc pulled them to a stop by the general store and stepped off.
"Alright," Doc said, "you two stay close. I won't be long."
"We won't get carried off by any creatures in town, Doc," Gem said, poking her head up from the back of the wagon. "Besides, I need fabric, and you suck at picking it out."
"Fabric?" Ren asked, raising an eyebrow. "What in the world would you need fabric for?"
"Because someone keeps getting his shirts shredded by some creature in the woods." Gem answered with a narrow-eyed smile, daring him to argue. Ren coughed awkwardly into his hand and suggested: "My favorite color is red."
"You'll get what I get you," Gem sniffed, hopping down from the wagon.
"Am I the only one grounded to the wagon, then?" Ren asked.
"You're not grounded," Doc said, his voice dropping just a hint lower. "I ahm… I don’t want to be in town very long, alright? Meet back at the cart in an hour, two hours tops?"
Ren shrugged, settling back in his seat as comfortably as the wooden bench would allow. “You two have fun.”
“Weren't you just complaining about being grounded?” Gem asked, crossing her arms in feigned indignation.
“Well now that I know I'm not grounded, I'm choosing to stay here and nap while you two go do your errands,” Ren sniffed, pillowing his arms behind his head and reclining in a shaft of weak sunlight that dared to peak out of the clouds. “Go on, shoo.”
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