riverviewlogs | [OPEN] June Catch-All

Entry tags:

[OPEN] June Catch-All - Ch-ch-changes

who: Wikus and YOU
what: Wikus gets his metamorphosis over with, bit by bit.
when: Month of June
where: Various (Floor 8 Community Housing, Bar, Hospital, wherever)
warnings: Transformation body-horror, possible talk about dicks (or lack thereof), gender essentialist talk?

i. My Body Is A Cage

Wikus does his best to settle into a routine - he's sleeping regularly now, he's got a job, his checkups at the hospital are scheduled - but it's hard to really feel settled when his body keeps shaking things up and making normal tasks difficult.

Eating, for one, is a pain in the ass when you have no teeth. And without being able to breathe through his nose he isn't about to try and swallow bites whole like he'd seen Prawns do. That seemed like a good way to choke to death. So now every mealtime he slurps down a not-especially-appetizing-looking, specially prescribed, nutrient slurry. It tastes a lot better than it looks.

Getting dressed was awkward as well. He's got barbs that keep catching on his clothing, and sometimes his antenna seem to be deliberately getting in his way… He's starting to see the logic behind Christopher Johnson's improvised vest.

His manual dexterity only gets worse when his four mostly-human fingers start fusing together into two, and soon he's fumbling everything. It really doesn't help that he has only one thumb (he really regrets chopping off his left one).

Next to go is his ability to walk. It's not surprising that his legs started shifting out of sync, but being lopsided definitely does a number on your mobility. He tries out crutches first, but it's not long before he can't walk more than a few meters before his legs start burning and his joints throb. The doctors try to explain it as something to do with the stresses of intermediate forms between digitigrade and plantigrade legs, but all it really means to him is that until his legs finish growing out, he'll be stuck in a wheelchair.

Physically, it's easier than he expected. There's a strength in his alien arms that he's never had as a human. As far as actually navigating the chair goes… that he needs practice with. In the meantime, door frames and unguarded toes need to watch out.

ii. Pour One Out

Losing body parts wasn't easy on the psyche. He got used to losing teeth after the first several dropped out. Peeling away his earlobes left him sick and shook both times. He wasn't able to look himself in the mirror straight after the fleshy remainder of his nose came off (the underlying structures long gone).

But it's only the loss of a particular, ahem, set of body parts that has Wikus skipping out on work to snivel pathetically in a bar, surrounded by a growing forest of empty beer bottles.

iii. Breathless

Even going uphill, Wikus rarely finds himself out of breath from rolling around in his hospital-loaned wheelchair. So why, going at a leisurely pace as he is now, is he panting like he just finished a jog.

Stopping to rest, he can't seem to catch his breath, and he feels a thread of panic. If anything, the feeling gets worse, going from panting to outright gasping. He sucks in as deep a breath as he can and then… nothing. He can't exhale. He can't inhale. He can't breathe.

Clutching at his throat and chest, his diaphragm heaves uselessly and he can't even get out a choking noise. Yes, he is definitely panicking now.

iv. Impatient Inpatient

After the harrowing incident when Wikus's breathing switched from trachea to gills, he and the hospital staff decide it’s best for him to stay at the hospital for awhile. It isn't his favorite decision - he still has flashbacks sometimes to being strapped to a dissection table - but it’s better to have doctors immediately on hand in case any of his other major organs decide to fail during the transition.

The transformation is largely complete now, most of the remaining changes being internal. His mouth parts are growing in, but for awhile he's completely mute. Even once they do grow in, it's still a struggle to figure out how to speak with them. Human phonemes are completely unpronounceable now, and understanding the Prawn language is a lot different than speaking it.

Fairly often he can be found practicing speech in a mirror, trying to figure out how to make the various sounds he remembers learning. Other times he's wandering the hospital grounds, either in his chair or wobbling unsteadily on nearly-transformed legs. Sometimes he's up in his assigned room, either lounging in bed watching TV or doing his job remotely from the small desk.

All in all, the last days of his transformation are pretty damn boring. He could use some company.

v. Beautiful Butterfly

It's a relief when he's finally discharged from the hospital. All the tests show that his body has reached its new equilibrium. It's not the body he wants, but being all one thing feels better than being a jumble of mismatched pieces.

He's taken Christopher's example to heart, and taken to wearing vests with comfortably wide arm holes. He likes them baggy, hanging down to bunch over the pronounced crests of his hips. Tops meant to be tight on humans just look odd on his Prawn body, snug around the chest then drooping listlessly, unable to sit close to his incredibly thin abdomen.

Bottoms are a bigger problem. Pants are right out. He does his best with baggy shorts with elastic waists or draw strings, but he has to admit they look odd, stretched over his hips but with waistbands too wide to sit snug on his belly. It's better than being naked, though. He can work on it.

The first place he goes on being set free is the nearest park. He stands in the grass for a long time, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of it under his bare - though tough-shelled - toes. His antennae waves in the soft breeze, tasting the air. His gills ripple gently, breathing softly. He feels… strangely peaceful. Light. Not nearly as out of place in his own skin (shell?) as he should. His stomach still churns sometimes at the stranger in the mirror, and glimpses of his hands sometimes startle him, but… just being here, just feeling his body, living in it… that's pretty okay.

Opening his eyes - both alien now, but one gold and one strangely still blue - he jogs a few tentative steps, a little unsteady. His new legs are strong. Maybe he's weak for a Prawn, he doesn't know, but compared to his normal legs, they're downright powerful. Gradually, he breaks into an all-out run.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Wikus is pretty sure this is the fastest he's ever run in his life, and yet he's still barely out of breath when he finally slows to a halt, gills flutterinb along his neck.

He's also pretty sure he can go even faster, if he puts in the effort. The thought is a little dizzying.

Further experimentation can wait, someone's calling to him. Lifting a hand, he waves at Cisco. It takes him a moment to place him as the man he met at the lantern festival - it was fairly dark, after all - but he jogs a few steps closer when he does.]

Yes. Nice.

[Under normal circumstances, he'd say more, but it turns out that just starting to speak a language tends to make you concise. Between the pronunciation and the patchy vocabulary, longer sentences are a pain.]

[ Coming from another human, Cisco might interpret an answer that short as an attempted brush-off, and he would respect it. But the fact is he knows so little about how translation actually happens, here, between people from different worlds speaking different languages. Maybe short-but-sweet is just how this particular race of alien communicates. So he persists, holding up a hand to shade his eyes from the sun as he says: ]

Y'know there's a pretty good track over at the university. For running. I see people there all the time, I'm pretty sure you don't need to be a student or whatever.

[ Cisco thinks about how much it would've absolutely freaked him out, if he'd run into someone who looked like this at a park back home. Now, it's not exactly passé, but it's nothing earth-shattering, either. And he kind of likes that. ]

You been here long?

[ It couldn't be clearer that Cisco doesn't recognize him at all from the last time they met, that he's treating Wikus as a total stranger. ]

[Wikus rubs awkwardly at his neck at the suggestion of running on an actual track. It's not any more or less public than the park but... It seems too official somehow. Probably just unpleasant memories of childhood track and field catching up to him.

He takes his words slow and careful, though Cisco has no way of knowing it's out of the norm. Translated or not, clicks and pops tend to just sound like clicks and pops to someone not familiar with the language.]

Just. Trying. Fresh legs.

[Fresh isn't the word he wants, but he can't recall the word for 'new' right now. Why is having a working understanding of a language so much easier than speaking it.

Cisco's question has him squinting in amusement. He has no idea who Wikus is, does he? Well, he did still look a lot more human the previous month...]

We meet- meet- met. Before.

[Ugh, variations in tense!]

[ It's strange; if Cisco didn't know any better, that gesture of rubbing his hand (pincer... thing) across the back of his neck is a very human gesture of discomfort. Could it mean the same thing, for a creature so different? He can't expect himself to be able to interpret tone or gesture, in this case. Which is difficult, because the guy is communicating cryptically, too. Fresh legs? Does he just mean well-rested? Had they been healed? Cisco knows some people arrive to this place wounded and are miraculously healed by the medical science in this place. Maybe they WERE transplanted legs, or very convincing prosthetics, or... ]

We- we did?!

[ Cisco can't imagine why this dude would lie, but at the same time... well, that's not a face he could forget, is it? Not even a little bit. He tries to think back. Sure he's gotten a little tipsy a couple nights in the months he's been here, but never so blackout drunk he could have met an alien and not remembered it. Had he? Or is this some kind of awful new side effect of his powers he's just learning about now - amnesia, or sleepwalking, or who knows what... ]

When was that?

[Wikus can't really laugh anymore, not like a human, but his amusement at Cisco's unfiltered surprised has a clicking vibration rising from somewhere in his throat. At least there are some things his body knows how to do without making him learn it.]

It's me- [He pauses, realizing that he... can't actually pronounce his own name anymore. There's no translation for 'Wikus van der Merwe' in Prawn-speak. It's a sobering thought that has his clicking not-laughter cutting off.]

I- we meet- [He really hates that word!] -met. At- gathering? With... small... lights...

[He palms his face, antennae drooping. This is ridiculous. He really needs to sit down and really try to remember every Prawn word he knows and practice his vocabulary from that. For now, he gives up and pulls out his phone to access the text-to-voice app he'd acquired. He's silent as he taps something out, then finally a computerized voice speaks.]

I'm Wikus van der Merwe, remember? [Yes, that's much better. Only the program ends up pronouncing his name 'Wih-kuss van der Mer-wuh' instead of 'VEE-kuss van der Mer-vuh'. This time his palm collides with his face with an audible smack.]

[ It becomes clear, gradually, that this isn't a case of Cisco just having trouble understanding someone who is communicating freely in the way they're used to. Whoever this person is, they are clearly struggling to get words out, with tenses and with remembering vocabulary. Which is odd, really, but Cisco rolls with it, listening for any clues that will answer his unasked questions.

The gathering with the small lights... that must be the lantern holiday that happened a while back. Only, that had lasted a whole week, and Cisco had actually met quite a few people.

Then, Wikus pulls out his phone and types something in. When the program reads off his name, even with the mispronunciation (which clearly irks him), Cisco recognizes it. His mouth forms a perfect 'O' of surprise and his eyebrows climb high, but he gets it. Now, at last, he sees the similarity between this guy- between Wikus' hands now and the one hand, before. He struggles for a moment to figure out what to say, and then opts for a joke to ease the tension: ]

Wow! Totally didn't recognize you, dude. You get a haircut or something?

[ Obviously, he wants to know just what the hell happened, but he's also not really sure it's his place to ask. Wikus, he remembers, had been really nice to him when he was feeling really shitty and vulnerable, and it had meant a lot. So he spares the more probing questions and merely asks: ]

How you been?

[Cisco's expression is one of such perfectly stereotypical surprise and realization that Wikus can practically see the lightbulb blinking on over his head. It has that strange laughter buzzing in his throat again.

It's weird to laugh. He thinks he should probably be a lot more remose, having gone full alien and everything. But, honestly, being all of one thing again, even if it's not what he's supposed to be, is kind of a relief.

Enough that he feels free to joke about it, and not just bitterly.]

Only. A little. Off of. The top. [He manages to click that out with only a little bit of stuttering while he runs his hand over his bald, armored scalp.

Then he gives a bit of a shrug.]

I been. Changes. Less than bad as- Not as bad as. You. Maybe. Think.

[He looks less than impressed by his final sentence but... Eh. It'll do for now? Practising is kind of embarrassing, but also the only way to wean off using text-to-speech forever.

Plus, Cisco doesn't seem like the kind of guy to belittle someone over their terrible speaking skills.]

[ The second time around, Cisco is pretty sure that that kind of clicky gurgling noise was a laugh, which means Wikus appreciated his joke. That alleviates a tiny bit of the worry that had been twisting in his chest. If he's okay enough to laugh a little, that will go a long way. Cisco's never been very good at dealing with people who lose all sense of humor in the face of crisis and tragedy, since cracking wise is his number one coping mechanism and comforting technique.

He is also profoundly not the type to mock broken speech of any kind. It doesn't even seem to bother him, waiting for Wikus to find the right sounds, piecing through what he says and guessing what he meant to say. ]

Hey, man. As long as you're loving the new you, I totally dig it.

[ Cisco's not quite sure how intimate or personal this change is - if he were to ask questions, is it the equivalent of asking someone about their tan, or about their most embarrassing health issues? Only one way to find out. He picks the tamest question he can think of. ]

Is it, like, seasonal, or permanent, or what?

[ Maybe he only looks like this come summer, and when the average temperature drops he'll be right back to human-looking; Cisco isn't gonna assume. ]

[Loving it? Wikus gives a snort- that's at least one expressive sound that remains mostly unchanged.

He's pretty sure he never learned the Prawn word for love. He wonders if they even have one, then feels a small pang of guilt. He knows Prawns can care about each other. Just look at Christopher and his child.

Either way, easier to type-and-say than figure out his response in Prawn-speak.

After a bout of typing, the rather monotone voice app speaks:] Love is a bit strong. But I'm not hating it. Is that strange?

[Wikus's brow goes up at the question of this being seasonal. His Prawn face isn't as flexible as he human face, so it doesn't have quite the punch of a raised eyebrow, but he does his best to accent it by raising one antenna and dipping the other.

Then another pause for typing:] Permanent until they fix it. [A brief pause, then three taps.] If.

[ Cisco shrugs easily in response to Wikus' question. ]

I don't think it's strange. Not like there's one correct reaction to a really big change like that. I mean, just to use an example from my world, some metahumans were so angry about getting powers they went on rampages, and some of them absolutely loved it, and I expect a lot of them just had some pretty complicated mixed feelings.

[ Those changes, it's true, had been mostly much more internal than whatever has happened to Wikus, but it's the closest equivalent Cisco knows of, and he thinks that the principle still applies. There's no wrong reaction to something so big. ]

Are they trying?

[ 'They' must be some doctors or scientists, he figures, and he's curious what fixing it would even look like. But that's not the question that is at the forefront of his mind. With a little hesitation (partly because he can tell communicating isn't the easiest thing for Wikus right now, and partly because he worries he's overstepping here), he asks: ]

How did- I mean, if you don't mind my asking, how... did this happen to you?

[Both antennae go up at that. Powers and rampages? (Would his own attempt to help himself by helping Christopher count as a rampage?)

He types out:] Meta humans?

[His shoulders lift and fall in a heavy shrug.]

Trying. [He manages to click out that word before resorting back to text-to-speech.] It was an accident. Messed with alien technology I shouldn't have.

Oh, right! [ It's so easy for Cisco to forget that not everyone knows what a metahuman is, that he has to provide some basic background in order to make any sense at all. Fortunately, he's gotten pretty good at giving this speech since he got here, and he can get through it pretty concisely and clearly. ] 'Bout a year and a half ago, a particle accelerator exploded and released all this dark matter and exotic energy into Central City and for about 1% of the population, it changed their DNA, giving them abilities, like being able to run faster than the speed of sound, or control the weather, or teleport, that kind of thing. And those people are called metahumans.

[ It does change matters, knowing that this isn't some kind of organic process, that it's something that happened to Wikus, and something he wants reversed, only the doctors don't know how yet. Cisco's face softens a little with concern and he asks: ]

Were you... studying it or something?

[ He has a tendency to just assume people are scientists, like himself. ]

[Wikus's brows can't actually go any higher at Cisco's explanation of metahumans, but his antennae are almost completely vertical. Quickly, he taps our:] And you thought ALIENS were weird?

[Speaking of weird, the way the text-to-speech does emphasis is kind of uncanny...

He waffles a little on what to say about his accident. This is getting into sensitive territory for him. Finally he types a short reply to make up for the long pause:] Confiscating it.

[ Slowly, Cisco is starting to maybe get at least the beginnings of an idea what sorts of emotion and tone are associated with the different angling of Wikus' antennae. It's not actually entirely dissimilar to a cat's ears, which is probably not a comparison that Wikus would like, but it's one that is helpful to Cisco. And even with the monotone text-to-speech, he laughs at the vehemence of Wikus' response, then gives a big, loose shrug: ]

Hey, man, to me, metahumans are just a normal Tuesday. I didn't even tell you about any of the really mind-bending ones.

[ He also didn't mention that he is one, but that shouldn't be all that surprising. Since he arrived here, Cisco's told two whole people that he's a metahuman, which is already double as many people as knew before. He's getting there, slowly, but he's not at "bringing it up in casual conversation", yet.

Cisco might not have thought much about 'confiscating' as an explanation, except for the fact that Wikus spent a while deciding on it, or perhaps deciding whether to answer at all. A little crease forms between Cisco's brows and he asks: ]

Is alien tech illegal or something?

Aliens were my 9-to-five job. [Wikus types as fast as he can without flagrant typos, but it definitely slows things down.] Weirdness really is relative.

[Wikus isn't sure if it's a blessing or a curse that he can't cough awkwardly or hem and haw about the question. How about they not talk about how the corporation he worked for technically owned all the nonhumans on Earth and made it punishable to possess their own technology...

He hesitates less on typing this answer.] Someyhing like that.

Oh, for real? You a civil servant or something?

[ It's not that Cisco means to keep asking precisely the wrong questions, it's just that most people don't really mind talking about their jobs, and Wikus was the one who had brought his into it, anyway. Besides, Cisco just has a natural curiosity about how a version of earth with aliens and humans would even function. Particularly if the aliens look the way Wikus looks now - not like something from an old Star Trek episode: basically a human with some paint slapped on. ]

Oookay. Little bit cryptic with the wording there, but okay.

[ There's a light teasing tone in his voice as he says it. Cisco isn't actually suspicious, and expects that Wikus is merely abridging his answer because it's complicated but in a boring way that wouldn't be of much interest to someone else.

He sees, too, that Wikus is having some trouble operating the keypad for the text to speech, and he offers: ]

Hey, I know you said the doctors are trying to do something, but 'til then you want me to make you something better to type on? Kinda looks like that one's giving you a bit of trouble, and that'd be pretty easy to whip up.

[Wikus is just going to wobble a hand in a gesture of 'kind of, sort of'. MNU wasn't exactly civil service in any sense of the word.

His inability to speak easily and coherently is a great excuse for not expanding on topics he's not comfortable discussing at the moment. Hopefully the restless twitching of his antennae and secondary hands don't read as nervous.

His entire demeanor perks up at the mention of making a new device. He forgoes the typing process.]

You. Can do. That?

[He spreads out his hands for Cisco to see, the phone looking a bit undersized compared to his thick tentacle-like fingers. His missing left thumb is very evident when side by side with his right hand.

Then he curls his hands back up to type] Was never great at texting anyway.

[ Cisco's face lights up; there's nothing quite as gratifying as someone accepting an offer of help willingly, as knowing that he can do something to make someone's life a little bit easier. And this? ]

Are you kidding? Won't even be tricky.

[ When he'd made that first offer, Cisco had been thinking of just converting a tablet to do nothing but text to speech. But, seeing how awkward and small that phone is in Wikus' hands, he realizes that isn't going to be good enough. He should just make him a multipurpose phone that will be easier to use with the hands he's got, missing thumb and all. It'd take a little more work, but for Cisco, it's not all that big of a deal.

His head is already full of possibilities and plans, and he asks: ]

Would it be easier if I put in some swiping software, you know, so you can do it like this, rather than like this?

[ And he demonstrates dragging the tip of his finger across the surface of his own phone, going between letters without ever lifting up, versus the standard method of texting, just tapping at the screen, which Cisco imagines is harder if his hands are somewhat uncoordinated, and certainly if he is missing a thumb. ]

Should be able to get it to you in a day or so, if you want?

[ He could probably do it faster if he rushed, but Cisco wants to take his time with it and make sure it's as good as possible. He can do that sort of thing, here, where the tech he's making is usually not needed in life-or-death situations in the next hour or so. ]

Wow. That's... [That is really impressive. Wikus had some trouble learning how to use a smartphone, let alone building one and finding it easy.] How... Smart. Are you?

[Wikus watches Cisco's demonstration, nodding idly.] Yes, maybe.

[And there's everything lifting in surprise again.] That fast?

[ Cisco grins, ducking his head, flattered and a touch bashful. He can't just take the compliment, of course, and is ready with plenty of disclaimers: ]

I know, I know... it's the kind of thing that probably sounds complicated if you're not a techie but trust me, it's a pretty easy fix. Not like I'm inventing anything, not like I'm developing any software from scratch, not like I've gotta figure out how to make a whole bunch of 'em on a budget with limited materials. Just custom-making one phone is a cinch for anybody who's got half a clue what they're doing.

[ It's not false modesty, or at least, Cisco doesn't think so. He just doesn't want Wikus feeling indebted when in actuality, he's happy to help. ]

Yeah, no sweat. Here, lemme, um...

[ Cisco reaches over, and when Wikus doesn't object, gently plucks the phone from his hands. Cisco quickly opens a note-taking app and taps out the address of his workshop, plus some very basic directions about how to find it. ]

Come by sometime tomorrow and I'll have it ready for you.

[Yeah, all of those things sound really complicated and extremely far above Wikus's own skill level with technology (he couldn't count the number of times he'd called tech support about his work computer on both hands even when he still had ten fingers instead of six). So yeah, colour him impressed. You don't meet boy geniuses every day.

He reserves the right to consider anyone younger than 30 a kid.]

Thanks. [It's about all he can think to say, especially with his currently limited vocabulary.] I owe you?

[ The words are scarcely uttered before Cisco is waving a hand through the air as if he could batter them away. ]

Naw naw naw, this one's on the house, don't sweat it. Buy me a coffee sometime if you want and that's more than enough.

[ Maybe not the most sound economic decision, but Cisco's getting along just fine doing his independent contracting. Hell, he's making more than he ever did back in Central City, and rent's a lot less, so he would feel pretty terrible charging for this.

Unless of course, Wikus had meant it as a favor? Either way, he doesn't think it's worth a debt. ]

Well, I'm gonna let you get back to your running and get started working on this. See you tomorrow?

[ And with a wave and a smile, Cisco turns to head back to his workshop; he's kind of looking forward to this little project. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN] June Catch-All - Ch-ch-changes

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject