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Gyn Logan
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Twin Tragedies
« Thread started on: Jul 21st, 2008, 10:22pm » |
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The talk with Baron had gone far better than Gyn expected.
"I gave the key away," Gyn had whispered beside his lord's bed.
Baron's eyes had opened then, though he did not move.
"To Othello."
One blink - two blinks -
The eyes slid closed again.
...it wasn't a very telling conversation. But then again, there was little to say. What could Baron say?
Gyn wondered if he had not gone too far. If he had crossed some line over which he might not return. Baron had not spoken of it since, and Gyn had not yet broken the news to Z or Chinami. But the other Dogs deserved to know. It was only a matter of whether he could gather his courage.
Now, however, was a different matter entirely. It was 3:45 and Gyn was sitting in the biology classroom all alone. He had his books out, cast over the desk, and the one that Othello had showed him four days ago. Due to the Friday restrictions and the weekend, Gyn had been left in a humbling state of limbo since Othello had smiled to him and walked away. Granted, the parting words weren't perfect, but Othello had smiled. It wasn't an ear to ear ecstasy smile but in the realm of making progress with Othello - well. Suffice to say even a simple smile was headline worthy.
The image had bounced through Gyn's head over the weekend (So much had happened; he couldn't think straight about it all), and now he was waiting to see how the little black bat would treat him. Othello had said it himself - their debts were settled, their grievances negated. They were equal now, resting upon the scales of Libra awaiting their next challenge. And perhaps, this first interaction would be it.
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Othello Rile
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #1 on: Jul 21st, 2008, 11:56pm » |
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Precisely at four, almost exactly when the hand on the clocked moved, Othello stepped inside of the room. He had quiet a few things to take care of after classes, which was the cause of the necessity for the entire hour. He had to shower, clean his fish tank, put his bed sheets in the washer and then in the drier before he left, organize his papers from class that day, do his nightly math problems and finish or start any other homework. Though always with a plan, Othello was never late so long as nothing like getting beat up or getting into a fight stopped him. Even then, it was hard to make him break schedule, the boy was terribly efficient at overcoming hurdles and getting things done.
All the while he did these tedious, daily tasks, he couldn’t help but wonder if Gyn would actually show up in the biology lab. In his pessimism, he figured that he wouldn’t. The boy had gotten what he wanted, they were even now, and he figured he would lose his interest come Monday. To say the least, Othello was surprised when he walked inside the biology room and found Gyn there. He paused a moment, blinking before shaking his head and going to the book shelf, stretching up on his toes to grab the key to the lab.
“You should use the lab, there’s prepared slides that are more similar to what you’d see on a test. The pictures in the book are taken with electron microscopes, you’d only see them on graduate level tests.” He said nonchalantly, like this was they way they usually treated each other. In all reality it was kind of awkward, but Othello wasn’t terrified of Gyn any more, though still a bit cautious, so it wasn’t terribly difficult for him to hide the awkward, nervous feeling.
“It’s good to know the microscope too; general biology classes always ask a test question on them.” Othello said as he walked over to the refrigerator, crouching down to retrieve the Petri dish he’d put there Thursday. Closing the door and standing up, holding the dish up to the light to see a healthy population on the cold plate, Othello’s eyebrows lifted. “Weird.” He muttered, though seemed infinitely entertained by the boring, small, bright orange dots of bacteria colonies.
Othello glanced over at Gyn though just tried not to think about everything that happened and try to guess at would happen. He shook his head, pausing there for a moment, thinking that he might comment on something that had happen those days ago, but decided against it. Instead he headed to the door to the lab and after cleaning off the handle with a sanitary wipe, opened it up and propped the door open, going to go sanitize his preferred lab bench.
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Gyn Logan
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #2 on: Jul 22nd, 2008, 07:20am » |
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Gyn looked up when Othello arrived, mossy eyes not startled but possibly equally surprised. It wasn't that he doubted Othello's commitment to the lab - simply that to find the pair suddenly talking lax to each other, to find Othello speaking without his face body and voice wrought with tension, was surprise enough.
The first time Gyn had really met Othello was when he shoved the boy against the wall.
"I brought my equipment, if you would show me where," Gyn said. Labcoat, gloves, and glasses all appeared, were donned with ease. His sturdy stature looked strikingly professional in the uniform. All uniforms tended to flatter the wearer, but with Gyn's added posture he looked quite ready to find the cure for cancer.
"Do you have a preference on one I should use?" Gyn asked as he walked into the lab. As he hadn't taken the class, he wasn't entirely familiar with the equipment, though he'd been through the mandatory lab safety sections of his regular biology and chemistry classes. He always found chemistry slightly more fascinating, but perhaps that was only for the fire.
When Othello paused Gyn too hesitated, watching the man curiously and wondering what words or notions were caught on his tongue. But none came, and Gyn didn't press, just followed the boy into the laboratory with two of his books. He wasn't even sure how they'd gotten here. He could remember the words, some of the expressions, but it felt like so much more had happened that was written into the undertones and silences. And silences were always far more difficult to decipher.
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Othello Rile
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #3 on: Jul 22nd, 2008, 10:48am » |
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Without waiting for Gyn, Othello had proceeded into the lab, windexing down his lab bench, cleaning off his stool and every thing else he would use, including the Bunsen burner and a few blank slides. When he turned to go get a microscope, he stopped dead at the sight of Gyn in a lab coat and gloves, looking like he was working in a pathology lab. Othello’s lips pursed in the effort to keep himself from bursting out laughing. Even though he and Gyn were settled now, they still weren’t quite friends and Othello would just rather not crack up laughing around him.
Gyn was making it so very hard.
A few restrained laughs managed to escape Othello’s throat before he turned away, covering his face, taking a moment to compose himself. He turned back around, crossing his arms to try and remind himself to keep his composure though looking at Gyn made him feel the urge to burst out laughing. “You know, you really don’t need any of that, this isn’t the chem lab and you aren’t going to do any of what I’m doing.” Which he probably should have been wearing a lab coat for, just to prevent staining his clothes or from getting the non-pathogenic E. coli strain he was using for a control on his jacket, but he was hardly worried about any of that. He would be wearing gloves, that was enough.
Othello went to go and gather up the microscopes, setting two of the three more expensive, high power ones down on the lab bench he had just cleaned. Which also meant he would allow Gyn sit next to him, which was pretty odd considering how they used to act toward one another, but Othello acted like it was nothing flawlessly. It really wasn’t nothing, but the main objective was that Gyn didn’t know that. He turned and looked over at Gyn again, fighting back a smile as he plugged the microscopes in and cleaned them off gently.
“Where did you even get all of that?”
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Gyn Logan
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #4 on: Jul 22nd, 2008, 5:21pm » |
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"Laughter, eh? That's a welcome change," Gyn smirked to the boy, having noted the pursed lips and hardly concealed bemusement. Gyn looked down at his lab coat and then up at Othello, as though to say 'don't you like it?' The glasses he pushed upon the bridge of his nose (it always made him feel smarter, for some reason - or perhaps more tactical).
Gyn raised his brow when Othello turned back around again, as though challenging the boy to see if he could really contain his chuckling. The android didn't mind it in the least. Compared to the cool ice glares he normally received he'd dress like this more often if it meant the little bat's mirth.
"Too many paranoid teachers I suppose; it's been trained into me," Gyn said by means of explanation. "And I like the glasses. It's hard to find even semi-legitimate excuses to wear them, so I'm not going to shy away." Here he smiled, a silvery and beautiful one, to explain full well he knew (and Othello should know too) what bullshit was coming out of his mouth. Ah, but that was alright. Gyn could take embarrassments and mishaps with grace, as he was bred to.
"The glasses I believe I bought in New York City, the lab coat is a hand me down from a senior who graduated last year and the gloves - hmm - I've had them since my honors labs," Gyn said.
Quite discretely, Gyn raised his brow at the fact he was being allowed to sit on the same bench as Othello (much less breath the same air and share the same personal space). But he didn't say a word.
"I would have thought you'd be pleased," Gyn said cheekily, his smile genuine through the tease. "Now I've less chance of contaminating you, haven't I? Gloves and all. I'm practically neutered."
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Othello Rile
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #5 on: Jul 22nd, 2008, 7:07pm » |
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Once the microscopes were clean, Othello dodged around Gyn to go collect his Petri dish from last week a few clean ones and two others labeled Escherichia coli and Staphylococcus aureus. He returned, set all the dishes down as well as his bag, glancing over at Gyn once again though he was quick to look away. Quicker than usual, since every time he did he had to restart his efforts in silencing himself. It was getting easier, but it was just ridiculous, not even Othello’s cold outer shell could deny that. He almost wanted to excuse himself and go burst out laughing in private and then come back completely composed, though he had a feeling Gyn would have caught on to that and it almost defeated the purpose.
“Safety glasses are really only useful if you’re blowing something up and you don’t do that in biology. Not on a large scale, anyway.” Othello did enjoy making cells fill themselves up with water till they popped in something that was quite a display under the microscope, but it wasn’t quite as dramatic as a chemistry explosion. He tried to keep things straight and keep his mind at the task at hand, opening the drawer at the lab bench which housed a set of the class slides, pulling out the large box that hummed with the light sound of glass hitting plastic and gently pushed the drawer closed.
“What topic are you on?” Othello asked as he sat himself down on his stool, turning to look over at Gyn again, one beat of a laugh managing to escape before Othello silenced it and looked away, loosely covering his mouth with one hand. “Good lord you look like Bill Nye.” He said, mostly to himself, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head, hiding his expression with his hand though there was a smile in his ever telling eyes. Looking down Othello dragged in a deep breath, once again having to compose himself before trying to at least start his work.
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair and drawing in another deep breath just to try and chase the fluttering, withheld laughter from his chest. He replaced his black gloves with latex ones, pulling out all the small amber bottles of stain. “You’d only contaminate me if you coughed on me or touched me, though I’m hoping you’ll resist the urge to do either.”
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Gyn Logan
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #6 on: Jul 22nd, 2008, 10:09pm » |
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"Not on a large scale, anyway."
"Not on purpose, anyway," Gyn muttered beneath his breath with what might have been a hint of sheepishness.
The android here canted his head and sized up Othello once again, a glimmering smile just visible at the corner of his lips. "You're allowed to laugh, you know." It didn't bother Gyn in the slightest, though he could certainly appreciate that Othello was trying to be kind by not bursting out in hysterics because Gyn looked like something off a melodramatic TV show.
"Respiration," Gyn said. He was trying to do them in order, but at this point it all felt a little unsteady beneath his feet, like walking on jello molds or the inside of a galactic space worm living inside a meteor. Oh wait.
Gyn slid the glasses back up onto his nose, because the thought appealed to the nerd inside him. His academics, even if he appeared so often aloof about them, were a considerable pleasure for the boy.
"Inertia is a property of matter," Gyn mocked in that processed female tone from the show. "Bill, bill, bill billbillbill Bill Nye the Science Guy. Science rules." He mimicked. Gyn was really not the sort that should be singing. His voice was beautiful when used for those deep, smooth, mysterious recitations or light, airy orations, but singing? Despite his time spent idling before a piano and playing whatever tune came to mind, it hadn't quite transferred to his throat yet or, if it had tried, got caught along the way.
"I don't know," Gyn considered after. "It's quite the urge. It'll take considerable moderation on my part. Though - isn't the ill effect of touching negated by the gloves?" And he held one out curiously to peer at it and wonder what of it wasn't up to the boy's standards. "And then what about you - you've got gloves as well - do you mind touching other people? Is it only one way or mutual?"
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Othello Rile
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #7 on: Jul 23rd, 2008, 12:23am » |
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At being given permission to laugh Othello simply shook his head. He and Gyn weren’t friends, this was something he kept repeating to himself over and over. He didn’t want to seem weak and break open like a flood gate and just act like he did around people he’d known years or, like his roommate, people that he was inexplicably attached to. Sure maybe he had a reason to be a little bit attached to Gyn now, a tiny little bit, but Othello refused to forthright admit these things to himself. Grudges were dropped but Othello had still lived a nightmare the first time they met and Gyn was the cause of it. He didn’t hold a grudge, but a new set of scars had joined the many on his neck, hidden by his hair, and the effects of that day were still lingering in his nerves. He couldn’t be attached to Gyn. Because of Gyn he was now subliminally cautious when walking out his dorm room door. He couldn’t like him. He could call a truce, but he couldn’t be friends with him, could he?
This was getting terribly confusing, biology please?
Luckily it was a topic Othello loved, since metabolism was ever so interesting and the fact that mapping metabolic pathways required a map that could easily and without repetition wallpaper the walls of Wilde’s campus was just cool. “Cellular respiration, right?” Since he didn’t want to turn completely nerd on Gyn only to find out he was talking about anatomical respiration, since the physical act of breathing and all its types was one of the topics in the book as well, though he didn’t know exactly what class Gyn was taking the test for.
Though when Gyn started singing and mimicking the introduction to a very familiar TV show, thoughts of anaerobic and aerobic respiration fled his mind. He covered his mouth again, taking a moment and setting his elbows on the lab bench, leaning over and squinting his eyes tightly shut as he tried to think of anything but Gyn singing to prevent himself from laughing. It wasn’t working out so well, and a few strangled, muffled laughs managed to escape, making his shoulders shake and his efforts double until finally Othello seemed to be able to breathe regularly. “Stop.” Othello demanded, usually cold voice lightened by what few laughs broke through his barrier.
Trying to regain control and move on so Gyn would be forced to stop, Othello started pulling a few slides out of the box he retrieved, setting one on the microscope that he’d intended for Gyn to use. “That’s the first stage of cellular respiration, it’s too small for slides to be very helpful but I think it’s cool since you can see the cell membrane and the mitochondria fluctuating as it happens. If you need help focusing or finding anything just ask me. Open the book to the chapter.” He said, moving away, back to his stool, having to be able to relax into his ability to simply nerd his way through things, but then Gyn moved onto a topic which was less comfortable for him; touching.
He wouldn’t panic if Gyn touched him, probably be a bit afraid since bad things happened in the past when he did, but he could have dealt with it. Gyn did have gloves on and Othello was considerably more relaxed around him, after all. The fact was that no one touched him, not if Othello could help it. He just… didn’t do it, and got nervous and apprehensive when people did. “Just look at the damn slide.” Othello said evasively, wrinkling his nose.
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Gyn Logan
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #8 on: Jul 23rd, 2008, 07:16am » |
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Gyn allowed himself a luxurious shrug when Othello just shook his head - something humoring, but gently, seeing's how it was quite clear Othello wanted to laugh, and Othello knew it, and Gyn certainly saw it, but if the little bat decided not to that wasn't a choice Gyn could ever validly argue. It satisfied him well enough that Othello was relaxed enough for the mere idea of laughter to be something they had to consider in their equation.
"Cellular. Everything's cellular for awhile I think," Gyn said. "I've a long, long ways to go." The thought made his nose crinkle up, dotted freckles all the more pronounced.
"Stop? You don't like the show?" Gyn teased happily, if absently, because he was focusing on the slides that Othello had provided and slipping the first one into the microscope's tray. He glanced sidelong at the boy, whose efforts at restraining his laughter made it sound suspiciously like giggling to the android. But it was laughter. And it wasn't cruel laughter, really. Cruel laughter was much more controllable. One could use it or restrain it. But real laughter was the type you couldn't harness so well, and Othello was a prime example. Hah! Othello - laughing. Gyn hadn't thought he'd witness it.
"The whole membrane expands and contracts when it happens?" Gyn asked. "Like one big heartbeat?" He hadn't really looked at slides before. He'd never really watched this sort of thing happen. He had to admit - science wasn't his subject, not by far, but that didn't mean this wasn't just a little bit fascinating.
The chapter was already bookmarked - easy for Gyn to flip open and lay out on the lab table, though now he was far too interested in the microscope to pay it much mind. He'd never been very good at focusing (always hard to find the right layer - sometimes a smudge on the glass or slight discoloration would be mistaken for something he was intended to observe). But it was just like the metaphor he'd so enjoyed - finding the world to focus on - and this kept him engaged as he slowly rotated the knob.
"Looking," Gyn confirmed, though in a tone that couldn't hide all of his curiosity.
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Othello Rile
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #9 on: Jul 23rd, 2008, 11:58am » |
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Rather than humor Gyn and comment on his singing or further talk about Bill Nye and risk breaking out laughing, Othello just shook his head, starting to prepare three slides for himself. Which wasn’t terribly interesting as he had to wait a minute for the water harboring his bacteria to dry, but though while he waited he did light the Bunsen burner which was semi interesting to watch, since Othello is not scared of fire at all, and the thing lit up tall as a torch at first, until Othello resized the flame and made it smaller. He glanced over at Gyn, then back at what he was doing.
“A little bit, though the cell membrane will actually spin like a wheel. I believe those slides are of some plant cells, so the outer, rigid cell wall wont move, but find one of the black dots in the inner membrane, proteins, and look for where it is in the next slide. You’ll have to flip back and forth to see the movement, but once you’ve seen it I’ll make a wet mount of my bacteria and you can watch it. The energy burned during metabolic respiration is what enables a bacterium to move when there is no drift or current, and I believe mine is a spinner so it should be interesting.” Was it terribly hard to tell that Othello was excited just to be talking about these things? He didn’t sound coolly indifferent to Gyn or calm, he sounded happy like a little kid might when playing with toys, though with less sound effects. It was the only time his voice sounded like it wanted to be heard.
With the book now open, Othello leaned over to check on his slides, then pulled it over to himself. He opened up his messenger bag and pulled out one of his notebooks and a pen, ripping a few sheets of paper from it and with quick, neat writing started summarizing all that the book said in an easier to understand manner, writing down the differences between anaerobic and aerobic, the benefits of both, the steps to both, drawing pictures to demonstrate, writing down chemical equations. It was almost like a cheat sheet it was so detailed yet made simple. And it isn’t very easy to make cellular respiration simple, though Othello understood it well enough that he could. Once he’d finished it, Othello shut the book and pushed it away. Why read it when it was much more interesting to watch it?
It wasn’t exactly a desire to help Gyn even though he had agreed to, he just loved the topic and could easily get lost in it. Now that he was allowed to without the thoughts of all his social inabilities dragging him down, Othello didn’t seem at all like the cold, moody teenager he came off as most of the time. He was… odd, quirky, easily entertained by the most mundane things and fidgety in a way that was almost cute since he seemed elated just to be there.
He hadn’t quite proved the quirky part yet, though he was quick to do that once he had finished writing Gyn’s cheat sheet and still had to wait on his slides. Othello scooted his stool back, leaning down and starting to go through the drawers of the lab bench. He’d idle every now and then when he found something interesting or found something he would need later on, though seemed most pleased when he withdrew a beaker full of small, flimsy metal ribbons that had no other label other than ‘Mg’.
Lips pursed in a near smile of amusement as he picked up a piece that was only three inches long, pushing the tip of it into the Bunsen burner flame. With a fizzling crackle, the end of the strip of metal lit up hot white, sparkling and fizzing like Othello was holding a star in his gloved hand. Underneath the sound of it, Othello did laugh, though to himself and out of amusement, giving a light yelp as the metal ribbon burned faster than he expected and he dropped it into the sink built into the bench, standing up a bit to lean over and watch the ribbon until it burned out.
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Gyn Logan
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #10 on: Jul 23rd, 2008, 7:44pm » |
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"Y'laungl! And here you said I didn't need glasses!" Gyn said. His initial exclamation was quite unlike what one would except - something half guttural and mixed with a nervous swallow as he saw the flame. Gyn shied from this brightest of lights, watching it warily, as though with long-harbored distrust. Returning his glasses to the bridge of his nose (they had dipped with his actions), Gyn settled back into his seat, eyes returning the microscope.
"Wait - it'll be in the same place? Or do they have a way to freeze the cells when they're doing a certain function? Aren't there hundreds and hundreds of cells in a sampling? How do they know when they're all doing the same thing? Can they ever do the same thing?" Gyn furrowed his brow. "I'll shut up." Because he had a feeling the questions were superfluous and not the point anyways.
"Believe? You don't know what your culture is?" Again the androids face contorted so prettily into confusion. "And spinner - does it have little flagella or is the motion entirely internal?"
Gyn's eyes were glued to the microscope, so he missed most of what Othello was doing until he 'came up for air' as it was. "Incredible..." the android murmured in approval. "You certainly know your stuff, don't you?" the boy's lips quirked. "So where do you want to go with all this anyway? Where do you want to go for university? And after that? Research? Teaching? Government funding bio-warfare projects?"
He was trying to switch the slides now, exchanging them in the tray with lips pursed in concentration. It wasn't easy for him. Perhaps because he wasn't entirely sure what he should be looking for. The first slide he was confident with - there was a clear enough cell in full definition, but the second slide...
When he pulled away to ask for help he had enough to time to inhale - sharp and quick like struck or terrified.
"Watch out!" Gyn said quickly, but it was paired in time to the hiss of the magnesium and before he could reach out and grab Othello's hand away he recoiled at the sparks with - was it a whimper?
He hid whatever ingrained reaction arose by turning away, pale cheeks tinted like pink rose petals and eyes shut behind his glasses. One hand went to hold his shoulder, and he murmured, as though to distract from what had happened. "You'll burn yourself." And he glanced at Othello so sadly, lips parted like he was still in pain. But away, away, he banished that reaction too away. His head shook back and forth, willing it away. Not now.
The android cleared his throat, watched to see that no more of the threads were pushed into the flame. At least he had worn his coat and glasses. With something that may have nervousness, he pressed his gaze back to the microscope.
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Othello Rile
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #11 on: Jul 24th, 2008, 02:45am » |
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At Gyn’s sudden exclamation and surprise from the Bunsen burner, Othello looked over at him, blinking owlishly, utterly confused on what there was to be afraid of. He always had a hard time understanding other people’s fears though, but he understood that it was fear so he shrugged it off. He didn’t care for other people to try and stroke or kind away his fear, so he figured it was that way for everyone else. A little cold maybe, but it was just testament to how Othello was an absolute failure with knowing how to treat other people. He could memorize things, he could execute formulas and procedures with efficiency and excellence, though speaking to other people and being kind was like an art form. And Othello stumbled, dazed and confused in all things artistic. “You don’t need glasses, the burner isn’t going to jump on your face.” Othello said, glancing over at Gyn strangely.
“John Hopkins,” Othello said shortly, since it wasn’t a well kept secret that he’d dreamed of that school ever since he was 13. He used to even have a poster of the campus grounds taped to the back of his fish tank instead of any ocean like scenes. Of course that had become problematic all to quickly, but that was just how obsessed he was. He was about to elaborate on what his plans were, though couldn’t help but jump at Gyn’s sudden reaction to the shining magnesium. Once again, he blinked owlishly and had momentarily worried(he didn’t honestly wish physical harm on people unless they hurt him first) that Gyn had gotten burned, though considering the other boy was covered in gloves and a lab coat, he severely doubted it.
“Are you alright?” Othello asked, just to clarify. “You didn’t get burned, did you?” He asked, leaning over and trying to make himself a bit taller to peer at Gyn’s hand that had stretched out to make sure there was no smoldering or smoking going on, though magnesium wasn’t really explosive, it just dissolved in a very bright, explosive looking manner, so he doubted any hot debris had hit Gyn. He frowned a bit, eyes narrowing as Gyn simply went back to the microscope.
“You need to put one slide beneath the other and push the stage,” He tapped the tray under the microscope lens on his own microscope in gesture. “Back and forth to see the change. They’re impressions of the same cell that have been colored in with dye, so you should be able to see the black proteins change position. That is the cell membrane moving.” Othello said, checking his slides again, pleased to see that they were dry. He heat fixed them over the Bunsen burner and after taking out his iPod to time it, started to stain the slides. It was all a very time sensitive, delicate procedure, requiring different stains to be laid on and then washed off, so Othello justly ignored Gyn for a few minutes. Repeating a stain was not his thing.
Once he was done though, he glanced over at Gyn for a moment. He didn’t understand what he was so afraid of, and Othello, being the nerd he is, was all too eager to show him the small strips of magnesium were as harmless as a balloon popping. Picking up another small metal ribbon, fishing a pair of tongs from one of the drawers and using it instead this time, just so he wouldn’t have to drop it in the sink. “Gyn,” He said, possibly the first time he’d ever audibly ever said the other boy’s name. “It’s not bad, look.” Othello turned on his stool to face Gyn and he pressed the tip of the ribbon into the flame. Once again it lit up hot white, though Othello drew it forward, holding it over his lap, his free hand underneath it and catching the dust as it was burned, not hot enough to even be felt through his latex glove. Othello almost cradled the light, seeming calmed by it, enough that a gentle smile fell over his face.
“It’s like a firefly.”
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Gyn Logan
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #12 on: Jul 24th, 2008, 09:08am » |
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Gyn didn't say anything more about the fire, nor the glasses. He wanted to remove himself from the topic as expediently as possible, though little of that hidden urgency showed itself on his face. The android was adept at masking things - masking boredom with cliched, typical customers; masking disgust at others, masking love, masking fear, masking hate...
And all that was left was this beautiful, calm, serene android.
Until he exploded.
But Othello had already seen that, hadn't he?
An impressed whistle flew out from Gyn's lips before he leapt at the sight of the magnesium.
"I'm fine," Gyn said. His voice was smooth as black beach pebbles, airy as the ocean winds that turned them white. More like a sigh than words, really. He extended his hand, palm up, palm down. No signs of distress.
He placed the second slide underneath the first (this wasn't something he'd done before) and mimicked what Othello had shown him. "Ah!" he said, in revelation, then "Hah" in enjoyment of what he'd found. He adjusted the tray with his finger, moving between the two cells and watching the changes like one of those comparison puzzles. It kept him entirely preoccupied while Othello was staining.
A prickle on his neck alluded to Othello watching him - a glance confirmed. His name off the little bat's lips felt strange - like new and foreign and strange but crisp as spring simultaneously. He realized he'd never heard it before.
"Please - " Gyn whispered, but then the material was flaring to life again, and the android winced. His face tore on the emotions evoked by the sight, but he bore it all the same. "Be careful," he murmured, because it was easier to say than, 'I'm afraid'. He stared at the sparkling ribbon in the boy's hand, cradling his shoulder.
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Othello Rile
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #13 on: Jul 24th, 2008, 12:19pm » |
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Othello could tell that Gyn was afraid, and even though he didn’t understand why, he did understand fear. Now if only he’d known Gyn was afraid of fireworks before he’d called a truce, though Othello wasn’t terribly sour about that fact. Shaking dust off his free hand Othello pinched the un-burnt end of the ribbon and twisted off the still burning end with the pliers. It stayed lit for only a few more seconds, then burned out and turned to dust that fell into Othello’s lap, stark white on his black jeans. With the disappearance of the light, Othello’s smile faded as well. He dropped the rest of the magnesium into the beaker, putting the pliers in the sink and brushing himself off.
“I think actual fireflies are a lot worse. Like big, uglier june bugs.” Othello didn’t really mind bugs, in his sterile room if he found a spider and its web he’d sooner relocate it than kill it. He just didn’t like anything that was loud, large and liked to come at his face like june bugs and fireflies had a habit of doing. He glanced at Gyn curiously, wondering why fire could make him so afraid, though he didn’t press. He found reasons for his phobias which made him believe they were rational, so he figured that there was really no way of knowing if Gyn had a reason for it or not. Except for asking, but that was invasive, and he didn’t like to push at other people, just like he didn’t like to be pushed at. To help calm the other’s nerves, however, he made sure to put the beaker of magnesium away before Gyn ducked back to the microscope.
Doing nothing but shaking his head, though it seemed in a way that was more ashamed of himself for having scared Gyn. As if to make up for it, Othello took a moment to make a wet mount of his bacteria culture, pushing it across the black surface of the lab bench over to Gyn. “That’ll be a little more interesting, those are living cells. It’ll be a little harder to focus on since they’re not stained, if you need help just ask me. You’re looking for a rod shape with an amphitricous formation, two flagella, one at opposite ends. They’ll move so just slide the stage to follow them. The movement is a result of the heat released from respiration. If they’re moving too fast tell me.”
Othello retreated away from Gyn, turning away again, going cold once again, though still significantly warmer than the Othello Gyn was used to. He was sorry, even if he didnt say it. He slid one of his own slides onto his microscope, starting to hone in on the small, now pink and purple bacteria.
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| « Last Edit: Jul 24th, 2008, 12:20pm by Othello Rile » |
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Bio x Relationships
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Gyn Logan
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Re: Twin Tragedies
« Reply #14 on: Jul 24th, 2008, 5:30pm » |
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"It's alright," Gyn said when Othello moved to put everything away. He chanced a chuckle, one to prove Othello he'd done nothing wrong. "Probably deserved it anyway, right? Besides..." and here he paused and took the idea in with a sidelong glance, "... I can see why people call it beautiful. The allure is understandable."
He tucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth in a brief, quiet cluck, then smiled again, though richer in quality as it conquered his hesitation. "I used to catch fireflies when I was young. All the time. My mother would take me out to the fields behind our house and I used to catch jars of them. You don't like them?"
He used to catch them on the nights when his father didn't come home, and because his mother didn't want him to worry she would let him stay out chasing after the bugs until he exhausted himself and had no mind left for question. The thought of his father made Gyn so viciously angry that he almost snarled. His face darkened like the sudden appearance of a monster just beneath his skin, with black glassy cheek bones and hollow eyes like a skull.
Masked.
"Thank you," the android said. He replaced the class slides and took the one from Othello, settling it into the tray until it fit in its place. "You said you don't know what this is, exactly?"
His lips had taken up their familiar purse of concentration. His fingers were busy on the knobs.
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