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racefortheironthrone · 5 years

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Thoughts on Powers of X #3

Gotta go fast!

Pride and Grace (X^2):

This issue starts off on a pretty heavy note with a look at the religion of humans in the Man-Machine Ascendancy, and what we see is that humanity has constructed a religion around transhumanism and it’s entirely negative.

So here is the catechism of this religion:

“All humans are slaves,” and humans should “accept [the machines]] dominance.”

Human nature is inherently “fallen,” and in order to ascend humans must reject “every last shred” of their humanity.

Critically, humans must reject the “heretics” who preach biological transhumanism, both becasue of the inherent impossibility of “improv[ing] on our flawed design” and their mistaken belief in free will.

And then just in case you were wondering whether Hickman was going to be at all subtle in his belief that mechanical transhumanism is bad, he then shows us a baby being baptised into this faith by having half its face lasered off as it screams in pain.

On a more high-falutin’ level, the purple-clad cyborg priest’s concluding thought that “there is something perfect trapped in your flawed human shell” is Gnosticism turned against itself, from a religion that preached an egalitarian message of salvation through transcendant knowledge into a religion that denies the very possibility. It’s also not a good sign that the priest inverts Milton’s most famous epigram on individualistic defiance into a message of submission.

I find it very odd that so much of the fandom can read these pages and then turn around and call Krakoan culture a cult. As I’ll get into longer, Krakoan culture is all about proving and celebrating individuality as well as community, about rejoicing in the defeat of death, and the multiple layers of call-and-response rest power in the congregation as much as the preacher. If I had to choose between these two religions, I’d pick Krakoa every time.

And then the mutant resistance shows up bringing fire and the sword(s). And yet, in what is surprising for a group of mutants organized and led by Apocalypse, their tone is more disappointed than hostile. More on this in a bit.

Surviving Sol Mutants Infographic:

In this org chart, we learn about the mutant resistance as led by Apocalypse. Some interesting little details here:

Apocalypse has a new group of horsemen (we don’t learn that the first horsemen who Hickman has been emphasizing so much died during the fall of Krakoa until later), with Logan in the War role, Kuan-Yin Xorn as Death, North as Pestilence, and Krakoa/Cypher as Famine.

This group includes “Pureblood” (not wild about this label) mutants, Chimeras, and “Symbiotic” mutants, which covers pretty much every kind of mutant in this timeline in the same way that the All-New X-Men were designed to be internationally diverse.

While some of these designations - War for Wolverine and Death for the nihilist Xorn - make sense, there’s something really ironic about the plant-man representing Famine, and there doesn’t seem to be much of a clear link between North and the concept of Pestilence.

North as a second generation Lorna Dane/Emma Frost hybrid became a fan favorite despite uttering very few words, I guess because of the interesting combination of Magneto’s costume in Polaris’ colors and pink telepathy powers.

For her part, Moira stands in as “Mother” of the younger mutant team (which I guess makes Apocalypse the “Father” of the older team), making this resistance cell a Brady-style fused/found family.

I was wrong about which generations Rasputin and Cardinal belong to: despite the fact that Rasputin is named Rasputin IV, both she and Cardinal are third generation Chimeras. Cardinal’s powerset seems to include Nightcrawler-style teleportation as well as Jean/Rachel/Nate-style telepathy. No idea who Freeman corresponds to, but no one else seems to know either.

The Church, the Church is On Fire!:

On the other side of town, the Machine half of the Ascendancy reacts to the distraction attack. Omega Sentinel both seems to care more about humanity and be more human both in terms of her interests and her affect, while noted sociopath Nimrod the Lesser advocates for human genocide, just in case you were wondering who the bad guys were.

A further sign that we shouldn’t let our pre-existing knowledge color our interpretation is that we find out that the mutant resistance “have always sought to free the humans in some hope that together they might overcome the inevitability of” Nimrod. Needless to say, fighting to save “a world that hates and fears them” hasn’t exactly been Apocalypse’s wheelhouse, but it’s a sign that existential struggle changes all kinds of people’s characters in unexpected ways.

I really like the idea that mutants and humans are two peoples “divided by one language,” because it’s an interesting counter-point to Magneto’s argument in House of X #1 that a mutant language is a necessary precondition for cultural separation.

Further evidence for my thesis about AIs and analysis paralysis: Nimrod the Lesser’s obsession with trying to “disassemble the variables” and his total lack of interest in more qualitative understandings of his opposition leads him to delay just long enough to allow the resistance to get away with their data and unleash a singularity in his capital. Can’t help but see a parallel there with the Phalanx and other intelligences.

We move from there to a Highly Thematically Significant ecumenical debate between the cyborg purple priest and Cardinal, who describes himself as “a pacifist who’s been pushed to the brink” (much like Xavier?) and in the process has abandoned many of his own beliefs, even “overcome my genetic predispositions” for a higher purpose. (Which itself is thematically significant, given that the cyborg purple priest explicitly denied that one could avoid genetic destiny.) Cardinal wants to know why the priest would betray humanity on behalf of a malevolent divinity, but it’s not clear whether his own form of self-destruction is much different (although given that Cardinals deny the self, did the “terminal apocalypse seed” destroy his authentic self or create one?).

For his part, the cyborg priest chooses veneration of the Great Machine above all else, seemingly dying in a state of religious ecstasy. There’s also another interesting contrast being drawn here - after Magneto positioned the mutants as pagan “gods,” we have a decidedly monotheistic capital-G “god” in the form of Omega Sentinel.

Buying Time/Space:

As his X-Men prepare to go down swinging to buy him enough time, Apocalypse and his strike team make it to the data-base. I know that Hickman is usually described as more of a world-builder than dialogue wrioter, but I loved the line “I am older than even the idea of machines.” (Not so sure that’s true, Ancient Egypt loved itself some simple machines, but he could be referring more specifically to the computer.)

We also learn that the data they’re looking for is “when Nimrod came online,” which initially sounds unimportant...up until we see Moira and realize that historical data is priceless when you’re dealing with time-loopers.

Nimrod is alerted by Cypher/Krakoa’s accessing of the data, but it’s worth noting that Nimrod doesn’t know what they’re looking for. He’ll describe it as “old data and machine lore,” but he clearly can’t recall and hasn’t integrated the data that’s been acquired into his own mental framework - which raises the question of whether the Phalanx or higher ups do any better with the data they’ve consumed.

In the mean-time, Rasputin and Xorn unleash his singularity in order to sideline Omega Sentinel and buy their cause a little more time. There’s an interesting parallel with what Erasmus will do in House of X #3, but the singularity adds another level.

Omega’s question “do you have any idea of what lies at the heart of a real black hole” is even more ambiguous in the wake of Powers of X #5, where we learn that there are massive AI societies inside black holes. Is the Man-Machine Ascendancy a vassal of one of these, has Omega seen one? Or is she referring to a more abstract idea about the ultimate death of all things? (Watching A Brief History of Time messed me up as a kid.)

But just as the X-Men of X^1 underestimate the self-sacrificial tenacity of Orchis humans, Omega underestimates that of the X-Men and so a singularity is unleashed on Earth. Does this destroy the planet, in the same way that the singularity of the 4th Generation Chimeras wiped out Mars? Do Rasputin, Xorn, or Cardinal end up in another time/place as the tarot cards from Powers of X #1 would suggest? Is their desination one of the Titan Societies?

In a parallel act, Apocalypse sacrifices himself to get the data away. Even as Nimrod is giving his big speech about how Apocalypse is no longer the “fittest of all,” we see how the Big A has clearly moved beyond that conception of himself, to embrace a larger cause he’s willing to die for.

As Aocalypse is dying, Wolverine awakens Moira in her ninth life and kills her so that she can bring the data about Nimrod into her tenth life. Which is one main reason why I’m really skeptical we’ll see a reboot into an 11th life at the end of the mini-series, because otherwise why devote half or more of your run-time to what she’s learned in this life if the next one is the really important one?

Infographic of the Ninth Life of Moira X:

I just realized that Moira’s last name works as both a play on the Nation of Islam’s tradition of giving out X as a new last name symbolic of the heritage destroyed by slavery (although the X-gene probably gives that a different symbolism for Krakoan mutants), and the number 10. Yes, I can be really short-sighted sometimes.

So what new information do we get about Life 9?

Well, the Apocalypse War goes well for mutants for fourteen years, with Avengers World defeated three years later, and the Annihilation Wave repelled eleven years later. Crucially, however, Apocalypse is unable to prevent Nimrod from coming online in Year 50, and within six years the mutants lose most of their earthly power, forcing a retreat to Krakoa and the adoption of Sinister’s breeding program. This buys the mutants about thirty years, but Krakoa’s fall in advance of the collapse of Mars suggestsa that it was never more than a band-aid.

Note that once again Moira goes into a coma. Man, by this point, she and Emma are going to have plenty to talk about wrt to their Sleeping Beauty syndromes.

#xmen #xmen meta #powers of x #hoxpox

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venusinverted · 5 years

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Dylan Brock: A Character Study

Long post! Read below (Also! Please read the tags first). Also this is only his character up to Venom #18/Absolute Carnage #3 because obviously I am not a psychic and don’t know what the hell kind of curveballs Cates will throw at us. If something major changes this, I might remake it/add more to it.

So, we start off at his birth. Specifically, how he was born. I won’t mince words here, because there’s no reason to: Anne was raped. She did not consent to Venom giving her a... Codex baby? Actual baby? Who knows at this point. But she didn’t consent, and her react to give it to Carl Brock, Eddie’s father, really cements how traumatized she’d become by being She-Venom. When she committed suicide, after promising Carl she’d come take Dylan back, I imagine it must’ve been a big slap in the face to Carl. Hence where the abuse either starts or gets worse.

We don’t know much about the 9 or so years of Dylan’s life before he meets his father, however, we can infer from his personality and actions. His use of language, coping mechanisms, and the way he acts when faced with a challenge (be it mental or physical) all point to the fact that he has endured this abuse since he was very young. I’m not a psychologist, but I do very similar things because of my abuse. His choices of coping seem to be obsessing over his idol Venom, and subsequently demonizing Spider-Man and listening to music, which is a very common coping mechanism. We rarely ever see him without headphones, and when we do it’s because he’s having a conversation.

When Dylan is introduced, it’s through Venom attacking Carl.

(This is a nine-year-old swearing, something that isn’t very common in an affluent neighborhood like they live in, which suggests he probably picked it up from Carl.) Eddie immediately panics, realizing there’s an innocent here and he can’t just let Venom hurt his father, even if he wants to. Dylan recognizes his hero, and maybe knows vaguely about his “brother,” but they don’t really interact. It cuts to two days later, and... Well...

You can guess what Carl did to Dylan in retaliation for what Eddie did. It’s enough to make Dylan run away, in a very dangerous city, and find Eddie even though the last thing he saw from him was either Venom nearly killing Carl or Venom flipping a damn car. Now, Carl obviously took it out on Dylan via a “sins of the father” mentality, and we’re told as much in the next issue. Speaking of, the next issue we see more of Dylan’s personality. He’s curious, asking all kinds of questions about Venom and his life as Venom, but he’s also offended when Eddie lies by omission about being a veteran. He’s a very virtuous child, despite the abuse he’s been put through, and it shows a lot.

There’s also his reaction to Eddie pushing about what happened. He doesn’t really want to hurt his “dad,” he just left because he didn’t feel safe. This is important; he’s not vengeful towards the man who’s been abusing him.

And right after, we get Eddie (unknowingly) abusing him! Yeah, that’s... Something that happened. It signifies a lot for Eddie, but I’ll get into that on another post. Dylan’s reaction is just to de-escalate the situation, trying to bring him back to reality. It shows he’s learned how to handle Carl, which is really sad for someone so young.

And immediately after this, we get him having to take Eddie to the hospital, and dealing with Maker for the first time. Which leads to him hiding from Carl, who is obviously very angry. His “son” ran away, and to who? His actual father, who is currently, as far as he knows, insane and in a hospital. Of course Dylan runs away, scared and confused and just wants to get away from everything.

When Dylan is taken by Carl, he’s brazen enough to talk back to him. “He’s not like you. [...] At least he’s honest about what he is.” He know this will make Carl angry, but he feels the need to speak his piece anyway. When Venom saves him, he’s worried for him, thinking he’s Eddie. And when he realizes, he immediately goes to his “brother’s” side. He’s worried for both Venom and Eddie (”Eddie... Where did it go?”).

During the War of the Realms tie-in, he’s kind of discarded. Which is a shame, but we can see that curiosity come out again. He explores the room Eddie put him in. Even opens a MRE, commenting on how bare-bones it is. When Eddie comes back, Dylan is armed and ready to protect himself. Even though he seemed reluctant to actually use the weapon, his ability to stand up even though he’s scared comes back later. (Also, how is a nine-year-old holding a gun? I could barely hold one at nine, I had to use a kickstand...)

Then he gets sick, and we see a bit of naivety with how he asks if that means he has cancer, too. His dry humor comes out some, too, with how he tries to cheer Eddie up by saying the soup is terrible. Finally, we’re on to the good stuff (but only for Dylan’s characterization): Absolute Carnage and it’s tie-ins. In Absolute Carnage #1, Dylan is curt and rude to Spider-Man, someone anyone else would probably be thrilled to meet. Because of his demonizing, he sees him as a monster who hurt his brother. He’s still listening to music, reading a Guardians of the Galaxy comic book. When interrupted, he calls him a menace and leaves (at Eddie’s request) until he’s pulled back into their mess by Eddie panicking. The “Who is [Anne]?” question is a big hitter. He doesn’t know who his mother is. Carl has probably never brought up the topic beyond some sort of lie. Whether it was because he felt Dylan wasn’t old enough or that he didn’t deserve to know is unknown, but still. When he meets Normie, he’s initially as cold as he was to Spider-Man. He curses, and calls him a “Spider-Baby.” But that quickly shifts as he realizes Normie can’t stand up for himself, and when Maker wants to proceed with testing on Normie first he steps between them. He knows Maker wouldn’t hurt them or risk bringing the wrath of both Spider-Man and Venom down on him, so stands his ground. When the Life Foundations Symbiotes attack, he leads Normie to safety in the room he hid in during the War of the Realms event, and protects him when Phage gets in, until Sleeper comes to the rescue of course. It’s interesting that Dylan seems ok with the idea of bonding to Sleeper, reaching a hand out when he offers it. Maybe he wants to be like Eddie, maybe he just knows he can’t be of much help without Sleeper’s help, but either way, it’s quickly dashed. (We got baited, fellas.) He defends Sleeper, but he can’t do anything to save him. He still protests using Normie, and when Normie is scared he steps up and comes up with a plan. It’s a very...... Simple plan, one he didn’t think through, but he goes with it anyway. When he accidentally makes Hybrid-Maker, he runs, and when he’s threatened he demands to know why.

Of course, we don’t know what happens next. Blame Cates’ shitty planning and issue orders. But now we get to hope an issue or two into the future to Absolute Carnage #3, where he doesn’t play much a role besides hugging Eddie and introducing Sleeper-Cat.

The summation of Dylan’s character, in my opinion, is that he’s a slightly disturbed, but brave and protective kid. He’s gone through so much, but his virtuosity doesn’t let him hold it against anyone. When it comes to his interests and coping mechanisms, he’s extremely attached to them. He’s curious when it comes to others and new areas, and if someone if in danger he will step up to protect them, no matter the risk. He’s a good kid. He really is what Eddie might’ve been like if he hadn’t had Venom.

#Venom #Dylan Brock #rape mention #abuse mention #I'm going ALL IN #I'm not glossing over everything they do #just so you know #it's rough #but I'm not glorifying it either #I'm laying it out as I see it.

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the-uptake · 5 years

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Medical waste and its real role in our lives

The Uptake, With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence. Book III, Chapter 7. Go to previous. Go to next. Augen, you, ah. Doin’ okay there, buddy?

________________________________

Augen took ‘Choly for a smoothie, then the two pressed on to locate a geek bar where the two would sit and eat. Equal parts cafe and specialty grocer’s, the lighting there did not wash out or overwhelm like that of a typical grocery store, but it still had better lighting than a restaurant such as Finnegan’s. In the wake of the events the day before, the gamut of hybrids who had gathered in the establishment seemed terse and agitated despite many of them forcing a genial demeanor. As the lamprey finger-swiped his order at their small digital table near the front, ‘Choly squared up the wheelchair, and ended up folding back the right footrest in order to give Augen sufficient leg clearance beneath the table.

“You… sure it’s okay for me to be here?” ‘Choly glanced about and absently sucked at his straw. The world around him still largely a blur, he couldn’t identify the species of most patrons, let alone what they were eating. “Slag, can’t even see the TV up at the bar.”

“I’m sure it’s just more of the same news we’ve seen for hours at the HP. As long as you behave yourself, hybrids don’t typically mind mixed company. We come places like this not just for a meal, but for a safe space.” Augen pulled out his reader in its waterproof case and set it beside ‘Choly’s on the charge pad panel on the side of the round table nearest the wall. “It shouldn’t take long here to get juiced up. Fuel, energy, a bit of spirit. The necessities.”

The waitperson, a tiger hybrid in a two-piece suit with rolled sleeves, brought out a bag of blood, a pint glass, and a double shot of vodka for each of them, and left directing a brief stifled stink-eye at ‘Choly. Augen unfastened a necklace from beneath his shirt and unfolded the sheath of the pendant to produce a small barber’s notched razor, which he then used to snip the neck of the blood bag and pour it into the glass. Once he’d emptied its contents into the glass, he snapped the pendant back together and returned it to hang under his shirt. He slouched back in his chair a bit and wrapped his lips around roughly half of the mouth of the glass to drink at it.

“Trying to look the part of etiquette, I’m assuming.” ‘Choly tacitly popped the lid off his smoothie to add his vodka to his drink, and Augen choked a bit in nuisance of such commentary. “I know your mouth’s big enough to fit the whole thing in.”

“You know how I am with ritual,” the vampire mumbled, setting down the food a moment in favor of the liquor. “Besides, I’m not here to give anyone a proto-Vek show of it.”

“I just realized. Uh. Until today, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you eat.” ‘Choly put the lid back on and stirred it with his straw, and Augen struggled to read the way the dreg squinted at him in thought. He sucked at the doctored smoothie. “What’s it like? Eating meat. Real meat.”

“I haven’t taken you out like this yet, have I? I don’t really eat meat. I eat blood. My metabolism’s better than most sanguinarians in the same position as myself. Only got to make a full meal of it once or twice a week. Can’t keep stocked where I’m staying, since it can’t stay fresh without… specific equipment.” Augen fell heavy lidded at the notion of what it took to draw, keep, and store food-grade blood. “I stick to geek bars these days. Repeat donors are expensive and difficult to find, but most geek bars have hashed out contracts with blood clinics. They do a community service, doing the hard part for hybrids. We’re more civilized and rational than most of us will give credit for.”

‘Choly craned across the table to shoot a cataract-glazed glare at the fish.

“You could have fooled me, with how things went yesterday.” He chewed at his straw a minute, shaking, and steadied himself on the tabletop. “I asked about the meat, because I didn’t know how the hybrid side of the conflict panned out when the TIP scandal hit the fan. I was in my teens during the global shift to insect meat. Hybrids can’t eat TIP.”

The two of them both jumped when the whole place burst into an enthusiastic commotion before trickling back down to an energetic simmer.

“A misconception. Though initially true, TIP’s improved. Various texturizing agents help it imitate the mouthfeel of non-insect meats, but the FDA’s gotten more conscientious about including certain amino acids to complete the imitation to full nutritional effect. Just off the top of my head, feline hybrids can go blind without enough taurine, for example, so now there’s a particular food-grade maggot that’s been bred to have naturally high taurine levels. And they’ve got to list the specific amino acids on TIP packaging now.” Augen set down his pint glass and his eyes fell distant on ‘Choly’s cup. “I don’t even remember the changeover. I’m, what, six years younger than you? After the TIP scandal, I was obsessed with the ritual of finding real meat. I wasted so much cred on rat and pigeon meat as a teen. I was convinced that my deficit was in my food source, not in my own body. Turns out, it’s just that I was born with the wrong digestive tract.”

“…So you said blood clinic. It’s real blood? Insects don’t bleed, do they?“

“Of what’s donated, clinics sell a portion to third parties like geek bars. It’s real blood. Human, even.” The fish grinned dopily, ear-to-ear, and returned to his glass in a mock toast. “The day they can texturize something insect-based to simulate the taste, feel, and value of blood is the day true FDA blasphemy has gone too far.”

“There’s a joke to be had over the trade secret for convincing stage blood, but.” ‘Choly let out an odd chuckle and followed the gesture in agreement, not sure how else to respond. His hand sank as he sucked down more of his smoothie, and his features slacked in thought as his head got lost in the chilled warmth of the vodka amid the different blended fruit-like slush. “Come to think of it… I don’t think I recall hybrids with grafting from cows, or pigs, or any of that. Is that an ideological coincidence, or a scarcity thing? Do you think… the average hybrid would consider that kind of grafting weird? To be partly something that non-hybrids once considered food? Slag, I hope people don’t like. Try to–”

Augen slouched across the table in an instant, nose to nose, eye-to-eye.

“Anyone’s food, if you’re not a coward,” he whispered a little too heavily, his eyes wild. He softened after a moment and nipped at ‘Choly’s earlobe with a tiny playful lick. “In the least platonic sense, of course.” He sat back to douse his throat with his canteen.

The dreg shivered head to toe and bit at his labret. Not a topic for the setting. I get it. "For how much I’ve gone clubbing in the past, I’ll admit I’ve never stepped foot in a geek bar personally. It felt weird, is all. I should be glad, I guess, that they’re not frustrated that I’ve got outside food, all things considered. It never really dawned on me that hybrids go grocery shopping just like non-hybrids.”

“We don’t go out for every meal. At least, most of us don’t. Contrary to the colloquialism of these places, most hybrids are relatively private with their eating habits, and don’t like to be gawked at. There are a lot of geek bars that have a no ‘non-hybrids’ policy because they have that rampant an issue with that brand of voyeurism. One of those, if you’re here to watch, find a mixer club mentalities.”

“Cecil and I met at a mixer club,” ‘Choly smiled. “Funny that we were both cruising, and ended up hooking up with each other instead.”

“I remember you mentioning you’re both in that way.” Augen chuckled at a low click. “Though, it’s a peculiar comfort that you seemed to find what I used to look like even half as attractive as you find the real me.” Squinting in craving, he fell quiet and leaned in to whisper again. “…It’s surprisingly next to impossible to get my hands on more therapy serum. The people who have it don’t tend to want to even come into contact with hybrids, let alone sell to them. Fuck, there’s nothing else that can measure up to it.”

“I can only imagine,” ‘Choly humored again, still unable to quite process what had happened at the table at Finnegan’s the day before. “I used to subscribe to onset video channels. I’m sure you’re pretty unique in terms of not only having a use for the stuff, but finding a deranged pleasure in it. Sure, it makes you human again, but it sounds so… dehumanizing.”

“I consider it… a sort of negative space that offsets the delirium. There’s a reason hybrids often get hooked on grafting. Vekarix is an experience.”

“How lucky for you, then, that you’ve found a way to keep that experience alive for you every day,” ‘Choly sugar-coated, unsure if any hybrid patrons within earshot might find objection in the topic. He raised an eyebrow, able to tell from the furtive glaze in Augen’s eyes that he’d said something that clicked in the vampire’s head. His reader chirped out a string of notifications, indicating it had reached a full charge and regained a server connection. He picked it up to look at it, only to set down his drink and use both hands to reply with a tense jaw. “–My parents, shit.”

“They–”

“–Moved to Trenton before the quarantine. My mom says the blackout caused a brownout throughout the state. They’re both safe and with power, but they don’t have a full Web connection.” Hastily replying the best he could, he swallowed despite how the abrupt stressor had dried out his mouth, and coughed.

|| We’re alive. I had the day off yesterday. Cecil was in the explosion. Rev escorted me to Premier so we could see him in the hospital. I haven’t slept since yesterday. I’ll call you guys once I’ve rested and catch up. We love you. ||

“Letting them know you’re all right?” Augen’s head fell slightly askew as he polished off the glass. Too convenient to be a mirroring behavior, he’d also picked up his reader and been texting someone.

“Yeah. I can’t get caught up talking to them right now, though. I’ll call later.” They’ll ask if I’m okay, and I’m a terrible liar. “What’s that about?”

Augen tucked his reader into an apron pocket and stood. He was about to wave his cred-card at the pad, but the tiger hybrid was rushing up and waved away his hand with a delirium.

“No, no, no! On the house. Today we celebrate.”

Augen and ‘Choly stared at them, confused.

“April Fool’s… was yesterday,” ‘Choly started. “What are we…”

“–Oh, I’m sure you’re not celebrating, but we are. The Mid-Atlantic Hybrid Registry is down for the count because of… what happened yesterday. Permanently. There were magnet pulses involved. Tri-City Central’s whole server’s dead.” They grinned and purred, copper eyes wide as saucers. “Not to speak ill of the sacrifice, but gods bless whoever’s responsible. That thing was the single biggest civil rights violation in the country since they tried to make queer identities illegal in 2024!”

Augen couldn’t possibly have paled more, and he did his best to steel his demeanor by putting a hand to the tiger’s shoulder in camaraderie.

“My god. We’re… we’re free. But at what… cost…?”

“Augen, you okay?” Sweating, ‘Choly nudged at his free hand. “Buddy?”

“It doesn’t matter when you were made, brother.” The tiger took both Augen’s hands in their paws. “We’re free. All of us.”

“I… I have to go. My friend, we’re– we’re late for his appointment. Thank you.”

“I–”

‘Choly nodded in frenetic approval, and let Augen push him, but he didn’t remember to fold his footrest back forward until it loudly grazed the door frame of the establishment on their way out. He nearly dropped his smoothie in embarrassment, scrambling to right the problem.

“–I, THANK YOU!”

He took another sip as they strolled purposefully through the neon streets. “…I don’t know if I can get used to this thing, man. I’m glad you’re pushing me. I feel better after getting something nutritional in me, though. You feel better too?”

“I’ll feel better once I can fix my ribs. It’s getting to be too much to ignore.”

‘Choly looked up and back at him in interested confusion.

“You know of a doctor like Bell in Premier?”

“No. We’re going to Linnaeus’s old parlor.”

‘Choly nearly spat out his drink.

“–Fuck, Augen. I’ve had enough verbot shit in the past twenty-four hours to last me a whole year.”

“You don’t have to come with me.”

“Like fuck I don’t. You promised y’wouldn’t leave me alone ‘til I had eyes again.”

“I could take you back to the hospital room, so you could stay with Cecil.”

“They’d probably just run me out again.” He realized that Augen’s texts must have been to Cecil’s brother, and his jaw slacked a bit. “Why are we looking for this place? Isn’t it abandoned?”

“I need to jog my healing response. Pretty much any metagenic exposure will work, and his parlor seems like the most convenient option considering we’re a bit stranded in Premier. I asked Linnaeus if his stuff is still in there, and he said that they repossessed the whole property, stock, equipment, and all–but that he doesn’t know exactly what’s left. He wasn’t allowed to take anything with him, but a new owner hasn’t bought it yet, and last he checked, it hasn’t been cleaned out, either. There’s got to be some Vek doses left. …You don’t need to worry. I know this part of town.”

“The part of town isn’t what I’m worried about…” ‘Choly built the nerve. “You don’t think Linnaeus did it, do you? You’re so fucking freaked out right now.”

“Not in a million years.” A stuttered near hyperventilation fell out of Augen as he started pushing faster, kicking into a wheelie and escalating into a forceful chiropteran chitter that made ‘Choly flinch and tremble. “Not. In a million years.”

“StinkfaACE WHO TAUGHT YOU HOW TO DRIVE–” The blood suffused ‘Choly’s inebriated skull as the chair rattled beneath him. Unable to unclench, he considered the very real chance that Central might permanently be destroyed, as the tiger had described, and he sublimated to derangement.

Nothing’s illegal if it can’t be regulated, and with the plug pulled, law and order in Tri-City had ceased yesterday. The crime rate was about to drop to zero.

Augen could only laugh and propel the two of them faster.

After taking a toll-free mass public lift up to Level 12, they navigated the sidewalks of the commercial district, and they entered a large multi-story office building with a decent amount of foot traffic. Augen drew his shawl over his head again and avoided eye contact with passersby. ‘Choly pointed vaguely at the directory map while they waited for the elevator, and Augen nodded once he’d skimmed and located an empty placard slot. He tossed ‘Choly’s empty cup for him in time for the elevator car to arrive and let off its passengers. A few others needed to ride with them, and they let ‘Choly get in first and tuck into the corner with Augen before they got in with them. When asked for a floor, Augen told them the fifteenth floor. Once they’d ridden all the way to the twenty-second floor, they descended back to the seventh and exited free of anyone who’d seen them enter.

The seventh floor hall had bright orange low-pile carpet, and far less traffic than the first floor. From the looks of the placards outside each establishment, this was chiefly a medical floor, but after Linnaeus’s parlor had closed, much of it had pulled out. They turned right at the end of the hallway, and located the large clinic-like commercial space. The Lazarus Hall. Welded rivets boarded up the doors, along with a trespassing warning and a for lease sign. Augen didn’t even hesitate to keep walking down the hall, and turned left down a small side-hall at the end of the way. ‘Choly knew to keep quiet, but it wasn’t until they turned left again and got to a false door which Augen slid aside to expose a passcoded door, that ‘Choly understood how simple it would be for them to gain access. Augen double-checked his texts to Linnaeus for the sequence, and while he slid the false door back in place, he had ‘Choly hold open the door with the wheel of his chair.

“It’s a good thing they boarded up all the windows and doors on the front face,” Augen quipped, using his reader’s flashlight to illuminate the office space. Disengaging pushing ‘Choly, he took a canteen break to re-moisturize and investigate the place for himself. “It’ll give us away to the building owners if we turn on anything, but no one will see our reader light.”

“This place is huge,” ‘Choly awed, puttering along close behind him by the handrims with his drink between his legs. “Just how many people do you think he saw every day, back when it was at its peak?”

“On a slow day, The Lazarus Hall probably saw easily a hundred patients. Busy days, in the thousands. There were about a dozen Vek artists running the place. I’d say a solid one in five of Tri-City’s hybrids got their work done right here, and probably one in three of Manhattan Premier’s. It’s a piece of history. Maybe one day, they’ll reopen its doors.”

“I’m just shocked the security isn’t better, considering Vek is a Schedule 2 chemical.” The moved into the consultation room halls, and he followed as Augen went room to room to assess what remained. “The layout’s a lot like the All’s Well Clinic. I don’t think you’re likely t’find anything useful in the patient rooms, ‘less y'want me t’get a good look in those ears an’ nose. They’ve gotta have a pharmacy where all the meds and truck’s stored.”

“If it’s so much like All’s Well, then where is that room?”

“Hopefully on the first floor,” ‘Choly mumbled in distraction, noticing an elevator door and a stairwell beside it. “I repeat. This place is huge.”

“You know, they didn’t just shut down The Lazarus Hall to make an example of Linnaeus and his associates as prominent Vek artists. This is where they started researching cross-branch grafting. Vek specialists still think it’s possible to graft animal genetics into non-animals, but that the other way’s impossible. They didn’t even used to think mammals could receive grafting from non-mammals–”

“–You remember how badly I wanted insect grafting,” the dreg snipped in lament.

“–They didn’t think it was possible. The staff here was on the brink of proving that wrong. He couldn’t save any of the equipment or materials, but he managed to get a copy of his research data. Together with the other three artists that escaped and fell off the grid, they finished out that research on their own.”

“What about the other artists? You said there was, like, a dozen of ‘em.”

“Those they captured didn’t have the choice between documentation or therapy serum. They were forced to comply with both.”

“…They must resent Linnaeus.”

“He managed to keep three of his staff members safe. That’s all I know. The four of them still work down the street from me, heh. From what I understand, they were the only ones who took the rumors seriously when the staff was warned to get out while they could.”

“Whoever had that hidden back door installed must have known long in advance things could go South fast.”

“I’m almost positive that’s the exact purpose of that door. The only other exit I can think of would be a treadless dock, and on an upper story of Level 12, they couldn’t have just run out the back way, unless there’d been a vehicle waiting for them.”

“A piece of history,” ‘Choly repeated. “Huh.”

They located a different arrangement of rooms halfway down into The Lazarus Hall, and found the pharmaceutical storage close to the reception and waiting room at the front. ‘Choly frowned, sharing Augen’s agitation that the shelves lay largely bare.

“So what are we looking for, anyway?”

“–The dock zone, then. I guess. Slaggit.”

The vampire grabbed the handlebars again and took control of the wheelchair again to match his pace.

“You think they left a shipment in tact without unloading it? All these years?”

“No. I’m just banking on the likelihood they didn’t pick up on trash day.”

The dock lay in the back far corner of the first floor, and Augen’s boots echoed between the metal walls and concrete floor. ‘Choly swept the area with his reader flashlight, and his jaw popped in dread at the mere sight of it. Goosebumps subsumed him head to toe as he shivered. Palette after palette of bright orange drums were stacked as many as seven high, and abandon knew how deep. Even without glasses, he could discern the unmistakable biohazard trefoils on every single one.

His breath ragged, ‘Choly separated from Augen to propel himself by one handrim and the shuffle of one foot, and took pictures of the scenery for souvenirs. Up close, he could read that every drum was labeled BF Meehl. After a mote of dissociation tried its luck, he bothered to pop his jaw back in place, and he sniveled in distrust.

“I don’t think these drums were here before the property was locked down,” ‘Choly started, mentally winded.

When he looked to Augen, the fish had freed the lever-lock ring of one of the drums on an unstacked palette, and straightened to his full length to stare down its contents.

“No shit.”

“What’s even in them?” ‘Choly stayed put, too unnerved with Augen’s demeanor to get any nearer. “They don’t look like they have any labels.”

“Probably mixed waste drums. Composite waste. It’s all dumped together. Sheisse, it’s perfect.” Augen coiled back down to his common posture, to rest his hands to either side of the drum rim, only to withdraw completely from the palette to disrobe. Without explanation, he approached ‘Choly and tucked his belongings ‘Choly’s lap. With a tepid swallow, the dreg’s eyes followed those cave-pale buttocks back to the open drum. “Most of these drums are probably grafting byproduct. To be honest, I don’t know where this kind of stuff was usually disposed of, even back when human grafting was legal. They’re all BF Meehl drums, aren’t they? As far as I know, Linnaeus was the owner. …Makes you wonder if Meehl has a sanitation subsidiary or something?”

“…Do we need to double back to the pharmacy stock room for some needles?” ‘Choly clapped a hand over his mouth in recognition of what was happening, and he writhed in place as his voice broke. “Wait. Holy fUCK. You’re just gonna shoot up whatever’s in that mess–? What if it’s not–”

“One better.”

“–Vek.”

And with that, Augen dunked his head face-first into the drum, and shoved himself down past his shoulders such that the contents overflowed and splattered. ‘Choly’s heart ratcheted to a near halt as he could do little else but look on in rapturous dismay. Years ago, the lamprey hybrid had put on a show for him, to demonstrate that he could expose himself to metagenic compounds and undergo their side effects, only for his genetically engineered immune system to reject the mutations and revert them back to the hybrid state his body understood as the default. But then, that had been Ketonamil exposure. He’d simply grown enormous from his endocrine system going haywire, and later sloughed flesh until he returned to normal dimensions. But ‘Choly didn’t think even Augen knew exactly what all was in this drum–if it was even Vek in the first place. Even if it were entirely Vekarix preparations, there was no way to tell what genetic donors would come from the exposure.

What if that wasn’t Vekarix. What if it’s not metagenic, and it just poisons him. What if he dies here. I can’t get back out of here on my own. I shouldn’t have come. They’re gonna catch us in here. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuc–

Augen came up for air, and his pleuric external gills flared out as he heaved.

“That’s the stuff.” His voice had thickened significantly, tremulous and viscous. “FUCK! I love that my skin is part of my respiratory system. Shit just soaks right into my bloodstream.”

“–So, so it was Vek?” he squeaked, sweating even worse.

Augen looked to him, and the reader flashlight reflected back more than two eyes. ‘Choly’s legs seized up, and his heart snagged on his ribs again.

“Doesn’t matter either way. What’s done’s done.” Drip drying rapidly along the way, he walked coolly to grip the wheelchair armrests and lean over ‘Choly. “Save your reader battery. Just let this be pure sound, smell, and touch. The light’s… really hurting somehow.”

“You fucker, you brought me with so I’d have to watch.”

Augen seemed to lurch at him, so he scrambled to comply with the request with a broken whine. After an impossible silence, the hybrid spasmed and tried to steady himself on the armrests with a stuttered, deflating groan. Breathless and desperate, he slumped into ‘Choly’s lap shoving his belongings to either side of ‘Choly’s hips, and trembling and twitching in what the dreg could only understand to be a seizure. Tears burning down his cheeks in an instant, 'Choly grabbed his friend’s bare, clammy, serpentine body to do his best to keep either of them from falling over, and exclaimed Augen’s name repeatedly with desperate finality.

The intensity with which Augen’s body shook seemed to peak with a crunching lurch, to which the hybrid gurgled a scream, equal parts agony and ecstasy. The The subsequent tremors softened to a shakiness, but ‘Choly couldn’t believe the force of that one motion hadn’t knocked the both of them back in the wheelchair. It wasn’t until the squelching sound of too-soft flesh shifting, that ‘Choly’s terrified hand wandered up Augen’s side, and met a membrane. Following the shoulder, he couldn’t reach the elbow. The hybrid lolled back his head and let out a bat-screech, and the dreg beneath him could tell that the arch in his elongated back could only serve the purpose of applying friction against his lap. With his other hand, Augen breathlessly guided ‘Choly to reach around to fondle him. Neither of them could process the tangle of flesh in their fingers as it seemed to nearly grope back at them.

“…What the fuck did you DO,” ‘Choly demand-defended, unable to take his hand back.

“It– hurts. Ohh god–” Augen seized up again. His flesh shivered wetly before another bony crunch echoed in the metallic space, and the musculature of his shoulders mashed back into ‘Choly’s face. “GhhaAH–”

‘Choly turned his head so he could breathe, but could do nothing about the amount of skin contact against his face. The chair lurched forward, and he slammed down his bare right foot to try to keep them from rolling too far forward in the dark. In the continued forward momentum he realized Augen’s arms were now at least as long as he was long, dragging back behind them as he tried to stretch his full limb span. 'Choly’s free hand found itself trying to make sense of the texture forming on what seemed to be Augen’s entire body, and his fingers traced what felt like hundreds of divots. With the clammy, tepid flesh pressed against him, the hyper-sweet chemical stink of whatever now tormented his friend nearly made him retch. Revulsion shifted to fixation, and his lower lip dragged in ragged repetition along the rim of the divots he could reach with his mouth as they formed deep macro-pores. He stuttered in arousal when one requited the osculation.

“Are you– making out with– my shHOULD– er–”

“God what the fuck,” ‘Choly uttered, intoxicated with overstimulation. After a few minutes of alternating to spread the attention around, he could tell Augen’s skin was rasping. His hair froze upright. He tried and failed to swallow. “You’re just as scared as I am, aren’t you.”

A phlegmy, nasal sound clicked and clicked and clicked in futility from Augen’s throat and flesh, like some kind of fetid orphic hairball. The body atop ‘Choly spasmed into rigor, and every orifice suffused a viscous, smacking exudate. The dreg squirmed to get away from the stuff, getting drenched head to toe as he was pinned in place by a creature that weighed at least three times more than him. He groaned pathetically as the stuff soaked into his pants and sweater, his mouth pursed tightly shut. Once Augen’s body slacked in his lap again, he put a nervous tongue tip to the mess slathering his friend’s mutated flesh, finding the stuff overwhelmingly musky and salty, and he flinched in frightened revulsion.

“Fuck-Me-in-the-Mouth, did you just. Did you just cum?”

“Out of everything. I never want t– uhhhhg I just… it’s not over, fuck.” The hybrid slid weakly down out of ‘Choly’s lap and onto the floor. “I didn’t think there was anything worse than puking. That was. NnnhOT. Pleasant.”

‘Choly had hit his limit and struggled despite his leg brace to join Augen on the polished concrete. He pulled off his diamond bag, sweater, and shirt and put them in the chair seat, then dragged the fish’s clothing down with him. He tucked the vest and pants under his head for a pillow, and used the shirt to wipe off his face and hair. He remembered to retrieve his reader from his bag and tucked it under his makeshift pillow after checking it still had decent reception and charge.

“Some of us just get to have all the fun, now, don’t we?” ‘Choly ribbed in total exhaustion, doing his best to cover himself with the shawl. “You started this day at one end of an extreme, and ended it flippin’ it to the other. SLAG! what a shitty end to a shitty day. I want a shower.”

“Just… don’t fucking turn on any lights.” Augen simmered, failing to entirely resist writhing as the metagen continued working his flesh into a tangled clusterfuck. “…Get some rest. Tomorrow’s the first day of the rest of our lawless, godawful lives.”

“Here’s hoping you’re still just one mouth to feed when we get out of here.”

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#cyberpunk #biopunk #mutant #terato #anthro #lemony goodness #trypo tw #the uptake #amaurophilia #wssi #with symbiotic self indulgence #melanochro kara #august ritter #medical waste and its real role in our lives

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