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Extreme Measures

 
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Joe



Joined: 03 May 2016
Posts: 42
Location: Birmingham

PostPosted: Sat Nov 24, 2018 1:33 am    Post subject: Extreme Measures Reply with quote

Sometime during the demon war...

The war was going badly, the last of the vampires had been driven out of the black forest and the borders of Latveria had closed, not that help was expected from there anyway. The daemons faced no resistance now and Western Salem was next. The daemons were winning and it was just a matter of time before the rest of the world was defeated. The calculations showed that this was inevitable. Inevitable perhaps, unless the project could be finished. The professor held his head in his hands with his elbows on his desk as he contemplated the future with dread. His findings had driven him down a dark place, hidden from everyone. It was the only way to achieve the results in time to matter. His laboratory was a mess, crumpled paper surrounded him and the floor was littered with scraps of formula and shattered beakers from failed solutions. He was under immense pressure to complete the project. The director of the Foundation expected results and as he was the lead researcher, only he could join the dots needed to provide them. His deadline was almost up and everyday he did not deliver, he knew that more and more soldiers died on the front lines. Their sacrifices were meant to buy the time needed and he had failed them. The Foundation was close to an answer, a living weapon that could fight a daemon on equal terms. This kind of daemon hunter was a complex infusion of alchemy never before attempted.

The science was impeccable, he had done some of the best work of his life here. The leap forward in science was truly magnificent, in another time, another place, with the right application of patience, he could’ve changed the world forever. But time was a luxury fastly disappearing and defeat was slowly unfolding in front of his eyes. The science wasn’t wrong, it had taken him to the very edge of alchemy and beyond into… something else. He had stood at the precipice and peered beyond. He had gone beyond the limits of science and used alchemy to bend the rules so much as to achieve the unthinkable. In different circumstances, the professor would have enjoyed accolades and praise for such achievements. The science wasn’t wrong, what he desired was impossible. Impossible for the known sciences. Edward tortured himself nightly, thinking of nothing else, he felt like a failure and yet part of him reminded him how far they had come. Energetics? The answer had to lie there. An eternal power source to bind the serums together. Edward lifted his head up and began rummaging through crumpled notes previously torn out and thrown to the floor. Ideas that he had deemed too dangerous were now his only avenue to succeed in the limited time he had left.

“No, no, no, maybe… if I applied the energy from a grasslich.” Edward hypothesised.

Edward paused and took a breath. He loathed to return to the hand in the jar but a voice within his mind soothed his repulsion. It’s OK, he told himself, think about all the lives you will be saving. The man was a condemned prisoner. He was a traitor, a heretic. He was working for the demons. He was consumed by the grasslich of wrath. Nothing could be done. Why waste the body parts?

Edward swept the floor clear of the mess of paper and glass to reveal the summoning circle. The severed hand of the consumed prisoner was placed inside the circle and he began to calculate the result. Less enlightened Salemites would have thought this was sorcery but he knew it was simple energy transference; a metaphysical transfiguration of energy to matter to give the potion the power needed. He needed something to permanently bind the intellectual augmentation to the physical augmentation, he sighed as he realised that even the grasslich energy wasn’t enough on its own. He didn’t have time to find a better source. He flung a glass flask at the wall in frustration and as it shattered and the red substance dripped down the wall as he consigned himself to failure. At his most lowest point a glimmer of hope made him chuckle, a fatalistic thought teased him. The professor leaped up and rushed over to his desk. He opened one of his journals and flipped through the pages. Then he paused. Edward was back on that precipice, he looked down into the unknown, if he was about to cross the unthinkable he couldn’t tell anyone. These methods he had delved into were already secret and even the Foundation couldn’t know to truth. The result is what mattered, if he could perfect the method then he could duplicate the results. If he used the essence of a vampire, an immortal being, it could substitute the lack of potent demonic energy from the diminished grasslich source. No one else could know. In desperation he faced a dark choice. He would take the risk personally, it was his last ethical act in a labyrinth of hard choices and dark decisions.

Edward had drained the vampire of all its blood and focused it’s eternal essence into the circle. As he prepared the other components around the summoning circle he knew the peril that awaited him. If he was right, then the vampire blood and the wrathful energy would bind the body and mind together forever forming a bridge. The soldiers would be immune to mental commands, possession and also strong enough the fight the daemons in hand to hand combat. Mind, body and spirit all bound into one process. He had taken elements of Roman’s regeneration serum and added them to his own. He hoped his friend would forgive him but there was no time to debate anymore. Edward smiled as he remembered teaching Roman some of his more esoteric formula; caution was always needed “measure twice, cut once” he would always say. Now he was about to break his own rule and leap over the precipice of reason into the unknown. It was a flip of a coin, heads meant his psyche merged and the physical and mental augmentations merged and tails meant he lost. He shuddered to think of what that would mean, the enhanced intellect would separate from the physical forever pitching him in an eternal battle for dominance for control. He needed both at once. The risk was so great that the chance of success was about the same as a coin toss!

Edward sat down at his desk in the laboratory and let sanity reign for a moment. This was madness. Then he revisited the facts: His deadline was almost up and soon the director would come to him for results. Using the normal methods provided only failure, if he had a decade and another team he might be able to make a weaker version for the troops. But the time was running out. He imagined the disappointment on the director’s face; the doom he had consigned them to by not delivering what he promised. Edward gripped the quill as he visualised the shame of being defeated. So close. So close but not close enough. Blood dripped from his fist where the tightness of the grip had caused the nib to cut his palm. He let the blood drip into a test tube as he mused over his chances before putting a cork in the sample.

“Blood may be the answer,” Edward told himself “it’s not perfect and it’s a messy fix but it just might work. What’s one more life in the great scheme of things? After all if I succeed, we will have a weapon to fight the daemons back with. The path will be open.”

After counselling himself he dipped the quill in ink and began to write a letter explaining what he had done and must be done should he fail. There was only one person he could entrust this letter to and he scribbled the name hastily on the envelope. He then grabbed the notes on the process and threw them into the brazier. If he succeeded he alone would provide the answer if he failed, he wouldn’t consign another poor soul to this damnation for his own mistakes. That said, he locked away a contingency in the cabinet because every genius needed a plan B. Part of the professor knew he was reaching beyond the limits but then the rewards were a matter of life or death and nigh apotheosis was just a fortunate side effect.

The professor’s last words were “May the Progenitor forgive me.” as he took the serum in the centre of the circle.

Pain, excruciating pain.

Edward felt as if his head was going to explode, the infused blood burned through his veins like lava. Every cell in his body was being torn apart and rebuilt at an astounding speed. He reached up as his brain split, he saw a shadowy figure standing in front of him; a silhouette. Agony gave way to ecstasy and time stopped. The flickering lantern lights froze. The silhouette stepped closer and Edward reached further towards it hoping to touch the mysterious figure. Was this what it meant to transform beyond mortality? The silhouette stopped motionless and watched with morbid curiosity, Edward rose to his feet elated. It. Was. Working. He felt his mind expanding and thoughts flowed like water, a trickle became a gush as he saw all the mistakes he had made all at once. His previous alchemy was child’s play as his memories united into a singularity allowing him access to a lifetime of knowledge. His muscles tightened and expanded increasing his prowess even more. As he inhaled he felt as if he had control over every aspect of his body, every drop of blood, every nerve and muscle and every humour that flowed through him. His heart, lungs, liver and organs were his to control like putty in his hands and he could command his skeleton to do things previously impossible. It was like being able to apply any alchemy to his own body with but a mere thought. He felt unstoppable.

“This is what it must feel like to be a vampire... or a daemon.” Edward thought.

Hubris struck 3.45 seconds after this, but in that moment an eternity could have passed. Edward’s pupil’s shrunk as he his elevated intellect came to the conclusion that he had failed. The procedure he had used was flawed and he was experiencing the side effect of an ongoing process. His psyche was about the shatter and the enhanced intellect wrapping itself around his mind was absorbing his memories, rather than enhancing them it was drinking them. His entire lifetime flashed before his eyes as the psyche greedily absorbed as much knowledge as it could about the world. It began to take his reason, his rational side and his intelligence.

“No!” Edward yelled. “This is my mind! You can’t have it! This is MY LIFE! Noooooooooooo!”

As he clenched his fists in anger his nails cut through his palms with an intensity that dwarfed the small wound made by the quill, the pain of that moment shook him out of the serene stupor he was trapped within. The pain and the physical prowess grounded him and reminded him of who he was. The pain was primal, it was real, it was all he had to cling onto. So Edward allowed the anger to overwhelm him and the pain to remind him as he screamed in anguish and desperately tried to cling on to his memories, some of them, any of them. For without memories, what makes a man, a man?

The silhouette tilted its head and stood in judgement of the professor. Alchemist, Scientist, Heretic, Hero, Villain, Healer, Murderer, Thief, Defender, Son, Brother, Lover, Brute, Fanatic, Faithless, Saviour, Monster. You who have stepped up to the precipice and reached up to become something beyond what is allowed. For this hubris you have been judged and punished. Promising, so... promising. Your reward is your failure, but come back when you have learned the lesson.

The agony returned as Edward collapsed on the stone floor of his laboratory. He opened his eyes to see two figures rushing down the steps and towards him. He could make out Roman’s voice but he couldn't concentrate on the other gentlemen. The ability to form coherent thoughts became harder and harder to do with every gasp of breath. To get this far into his laboratory, both men needed high clearance. He hoped that his letter would be found at least. Everything began to fade to black for Edward.

“Edward! What have you done!” Roman shouted, but it was too late as the process completed and the professor they had known vanished.
_________________
OOC: Joe H
IC: Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde / H...I stopped counting
IC: Ichiro Kage of the Tanuki
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Joe



Joined: 03 May 2016
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Location: Birmingham

PostPosted: Sat Dec 08, 2018 11:44 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The day after the Empty Keg party: Port of Saints…

Edward Hyde gazed upon his own reflection in the mirror, the world around him moved as he remained motionless in the room. It was as if everything else speeded up while he remained perfectly still, even the sunlight began to fade as the afternoon gave way to evening and eventually night. A maid at the inn must have lit the lantern on the dresser but Hyde hadn’t acknowledged her, and if asked, he wouldn’t have been able to recognise her, nor would he recall the kind words she offered him and the sigh of disappointment as she left the room without a response from him. One question orbited his mind as he sat in a kind of silent meditation, it was the most silent Hyde have ever been, according to his newer memories. How silent his older self had been; the professor, was like many things still a mystery to him.

“Who are you?” he silently asked his reflection again for the hundredth time as if he expected an answer. He no longer had a plan, he felt it was important to sit there and mentally catch his breath. The memories that had emerged from the intellect enhancing potion were not what he expected. The revelations alone were enough to break a man and send him screaming into madness. He could’ve awoken in Bedlam. But his will was stronger than that. Beyond the rage, beneath the ego there was a hardness that refused to give up. But now, even his hardness weighed him down like a slab or granite. Before this day, it had been focused into determination, a hatred of Jekyll and a motivation to get back what had been stolen, to return to being The Professor. Professor Hyde. What did that even mean? From the fragments of memory, he couldn’t determine what kind of man he was. Desperate towards the end, determined, for sure. He had no way of knowing *who* he was. If he was similar to Jekyll he felt like he’d rather kill himself than to become that. Yet it was not as simple as being just another iteration of Jekyll. Hyde considered whether he just didn’t like scientists. Even the proposition of purging them all while crushing their class beakers and burning their notes didn’t rouse a smile. After what happened to him, a deep distrust of such things was simply survival. As darkness spread, shadows obscured some of his face as he gazed ahead. His reflection looked crueler in this light. His eyes and nose were sharper. He looked older, in some ways Professor Hyde was his father and he was his son, he was his own son born from his own creation, his own mistake. Hyde considered how living without a father had been hard, no one was there to teach him how to act, how to do things, what was right and what was wrong, or who to be. Out of the shock and apathy arose resentment at being abandoned, but it was tinged with the hurtful realisation that if he was the Professor’s “son” this made Jekyll his brother.

Born from the same failed experiment and yet Jekyll was the reason he was no longer whole. His new memory was adamant on that fact, Jekyll was the runaway intellect, forever augmented and apart from the rest of the body. His nemesis remained and so then did his goal. What was his goal? Destruction? Hardly possible now. Reunification? Hyde frowned at the idea. Did he really want to join with a snivelling worm like Jekyll? No conviction, so much compassion and consideration the thought made him sick. The very idea of diluting himself and become impure terrified him. So he turned to his reflection, his “father” and in the dim light he asked again.

“Who are you?” Hyde said aloud at last. “I need to know… because I’m afraid of what I’ll become. I don’t want to be just like Jekyll. I cannot. But then am I just a disappointment to us if I don’t? Am I the failure Professor? Am I not your creation? Am I not your son?” Hyde felt a rush of adrenalin and a surge of anger, if the reflection was really the professor he once was, he felt as if he would kill him on the spot. He considered smashing the mirror for good measure.

The truth hadn’t set him free, it had drained away his goal and left him with a dark pool of sorrow in his heart. The revelation was terrible and now he was left in apathy and regret for what had been lost. Within the dark pool of sorrow hidden on the periphery of his conscious thoughts was a secret so terrible that he only saw the disdain reflected him Roman’s eyes every so often when he thought back. It was the secret of what occured when he blacked out in the laboratory after the transformation was complete. The two figures had rushed to his aid, Roman had began to chastise him and then… nothing. What happened next? When he relived the memory he had lashed out in a berserk rage, filled from grasslich energy. In such a state he could have done anything. Being out of control was like a drug for Hyde, it was exhilarating and addictive. It felt far more natural than civilised speech. It was a place he knew in his bones he had been before. Even if his mind refused to recall it, he KNEW he had been there before. He felt he had rampaged, such a thing could leave stains on your skin that wouldn’t wash out with the blood. Hyde wondered what he had done? He knew so much and yet so little now, the circle and the science used baffled him. Why? How did this happen? Jekyll had once read something about energetics and advanced alchemy but he couldn’t remember exactly how it worked. He hated to admit it but Dr Jekyll had the mind needed to solve what went wrong. Jekyll seemed to act differently when taking such potions, no rampage, no berserk rage. How was that fair? Hyde had yet more irritating questions and he had learned to loathe questions. He had a sobering thought: Why on earth would he take such things? What insane course had Hyde steered them upon? Yet the familiarity of it all was so damn close that it was on the tip of his tongue. Hyde’s mind touched the dark pool of sorrow within and he wondered what happened in his laboratory after the experiment failed? When the memory blacked out, what did he do? Hyde needed to know but in his heart he didn’t want to know the answer because he already knew. So he plunged the fragments of thoughts back into the dark pool of sorrow and buried any hint of possible remorse.

“Maybe I’m better off not knowing any of it.” Hyde spat as he faced the mirror, his reflection was almost in complete darkness now. “Maybe I’m fine just as I am.”

“I want my body back!” His reflection demanded.

For the first time in his living memory, Edward Hyde jerked back his fright.
_________________
OOC: Joe H
IC: Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde / H...I stopped counting
IC: Ichiro Kage of the Tanuki
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Joe



Joined: 03 May 2016
Posts: 42
Location: Birmingham

PostPosted: Wed Dec 26, 2018 2:05 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

24 hours later…

Edward Hyde ran, he hadn’t ran away from anything in his life. Since violence was futile against this enemy, he ran. Unused to being prey, Hyde hoped he could outrun his nemesis before it was too late. Every shadow he cast, every reflection in a puddle or a window was a conduit to his nemesis. He didn’t know how long he had until he would succumb, his augmented physiology would give him some resistance, but he was no alchemist. Ironically, Dr Jekyll could have solved his problem and he spat as he thought of the humiliation in needing Jekyll for anything. It wasn’t an option, perhaps his natural vigour could be bolstered with some exercise and pain he thought. Hyde potently scrambled to the moonlight rooftop and began to run across before leaping to the next one. His heart sank as he realised he would soon run out of intact buildings in the Port of Saints. He slapped himself an allowed the sharp pain to keep him in the moment.

“Focus!” He growled to himself as he continued to run, but there was no way to outrun the chemicals coursing through his veins. His eyelids felt so heavy now. Even with a natural vigour, the amount he had been dosed with could knock him unconscious. He felt that if he could just run a little faster and get the heart pumping quicker, then he could starve off the switch just a few more minutes. The chill of the night air of the Port of Saints helped a little but nowhere near enough. Hyde ran towards a large gap between buildings, he wondered whether he could make it, but there was no time for second guessing, his nemesis was on his tail and under his skin; ready and willing to take him. He ran quicker as tiredness overtook him, fighting his own eyelids Hyde jumped across the chasm with the wind blowing past and landed on the beach in full daylight.

The beachhead was a mess of shrapnel and ordinance as the battle had raged for hours, the smell of gunpowder filled the air as explosions of rock and sand caused a cacophony of chaos to erupt around him. It took Edward Hyde a moment to understand what had happened and how he could be running across rooftops at night one moment and landing on a bright beach in the middle of a warzone the next. Smoke and confusion quickly filled the scene as brother battled brother and no one really knew who was an ally and who was an enemy. Frustrated at being trapped once again and banished from the world, Hyde embraced his anger and rode the wave of violence. The screaming rage of Hyde echoed within the cove as the cold precision of Jekyll’s planned attack mercilessly slew flesh from bone. Horatio bore the brunt of it all as a three way war expanded along the beach. None would find rest and none would surrender nor would surrender be accepted by any side. Nightmarish thoughts of violence clashed as harmful intentions were made manifest. No one had noticed how the fourth one had disappeared.

***

Free in the world beyond, a person of a calmer gait stepped forth. Ever watchful and never hurried, he contemplated the possibilities as he gazed at the palm of his hand. Allowing himself precisely four seconds of revelry he smiled and softly chuckled to himself. He brushed himself down and stepped out of the alleyway between the two buildings where Hyde had attempted to jump. The sedative had worked as planned, a moment's lapse in concentration was all he had needed to inject Hyde all with control over a single hand for mere moments. With full control, the possibilities were endless.

“Free at last.” he whispered to himself.

He walked the streets and smelled the air. The port was winding down for the night but he had only just started. Realising that the tavern where Hyde had been staying was the best place to go, he harnessed his memories and retraced Hyde's path. Entering the rowdy tavern was an experience in itself. He passed the drunkards and the bawdy punters as he returned to his room. The stomach of this body growled and he deduced that the body needed food. So he resolved to order something. Nothing offered by the tavern was fitting as a first meal for him, yet he required sustenance. Resigned to disappointment, he went to the bar to order food.

“I require sustenance,” he informed the barmaid. She blinked in surprise.

“We have ale and meat pie left.”

“That will suffice.” he sighed. He took no joy from the meal and set his mind to calculating the nutritional value in terms of when he must eat again. The amphetamines he took had countered the sleeping drug but this body would need rest sooner or later. He needed to work with the maximum efficiency while free. The others within could hamper his great work. The internal war would only distract them for so long. When it failed, what then? Simple, he resolved, recruit the one, imprison the other and kill the third.

***

Half drowned, Heward "Horatio" Yedd lay face down in the water off the beach. This reunion was not going as planned. He decided to dive under the sea for cover.


***

The next thing he saw was a fist flying towards his face, greeted with a blow wasn’t the most startling part of the situation. The floor rocked as Horatio realised he was on the deck of a ship. The foot hitting his backside told him he was fighting at least three sailors.

“Wow there good sirs!” Horatio begged. “I am unfamiliar with your quarrel and surely there must be a better way to resolve this.”

“Is this a joke?” Slurred one of the sailors. “You just knocked my front teeth out!”

“Edward?!” Horatio cursed as he dodged another fist to the face. Horatio reluctantly engaged the men knowing that they wouldn’t believe him even if he managed to explain. The sound of cries and yells could he heard between the thumps and smacks on deck. The door opened as Horatio entered.

“What are you?” A voice demanded.

“I’m just a stranger trying to bring some peace to my brothers. EDWARD?! Where have you gone now?”

***

The percussion of shots echoed across the beach as volley upon volley launched against the beast. No matter what, it kept coming. Henry had to rely on the explosives and his alchemical guile. He flask of acid was his last recourse. He threw it with all his might and hoped for an effective splash.

***

Dr Jekyll awoke in the comfort of an unfamiliar warm bed. No longer on Union, he smelled the salty air of Archipelago. For a moment his heart lifted as he guessed Port Rabel but the sound of the bell told him more than likely Port of Saints. From beneath the covers an smooth thin arm reached out to cuddle him. Jekyll froze.

“Horatio, stay still, stop fidgeting.” A girl’s voice demanded. Dr Jekyll silently planned his escape from the room as he spotted his jacket, clothes and brown satchel. As he slid out of the bed he took the covers with him revealing his naked bed companion, she grabbed the covers back as Jekyll looked away.

“Apologies. I’m not quite myself. I need to… I need to… take a stroll. I think. Yes a stroll.” He said blushing.

***

The beach was torn up with signs of battle. Blood and fragmented wood littered the ground. There was a mist from the ocean that had emerged and it has caused an eerie ceasefire. The silhouette cocked its head to the side.

“Not good.” It whispered to itself. “Someone is mastering this dream world far faster than anticipated. Is it you Doctor Jekyll? I will simply need to accelerate the plan.”

***

Re-emergence was a simple matter of calculation and influence. Planning the emotional moods and states of three other personalities was no easy feat. Controlling their reactions was much easier and engineering the right stimulus at the right time was the best way to regulate the phases. What amused him more was that he could create a chart predicting the emergence of Hyde, Jekyll, even “Horatio” if he had mind to do so. He did not. Cooperation was unnecessary at this point. He entered the warehouse at the appointed time and climbed the stairs to the small room at the top.

Two men sat at a table, one was dressed up pretending to be a noble, the other wore common clothes and had bulging muscles, clearly an intimidation tactic since the best bodyguards remain hidden. The light level from candles was so dim that it was impossible to make out anyone’s faces. An advantage that suited him fine and a disadvantage for his new associates.

“You have the payment?” The fake noble asked.

“You have the goods?” He responded.

“Indeed we do.”

“Then let me see them.”

“Before we do that we need some reassurance. What do we call you?”

“Why are you so bothered about names now?”

“You know our names, you’ve ordered some pretty toxic materials, we feel we are at a disadvantage. If you’re a genuine customer and willing to do repeat business, we need to know what to call you.”

“I go by many names. I’ve been a doctor, a professor, a rogue and a brute. I've been Dr Henry Albas Jekyll, Professor Edward Hyde or Heward Yedd aka Horatio. Face me on the wrong day and you’ll get something more than you bargained for.”

“Enough puzzles and doublespeak. Just tell us your name! No more games.” The fake noble seemed on edge, so he acquiesced.

“Very well, I was enjoying the anonymity but I suppose I can tell you. I’ve chosen the perfect nomenclature. Call me Dr Shelly. Jalek Byran Shelly. I am the watcher, the one who knows all. I am the completion of an old promise. Can we trade now?”

“Not quite Dr Shelly. You see, our discretion is going to cost you extra. Call it double.”

“Preposterous!” Shelly exclaimed. “You were being paid handsomely as it was.”

“Well you pay our price or we walk away and if you even think of violence, Olaf here swallows the key to your goods in this here lockbox on the table and without the key, you’ll have to wait a while to open it.”

“That’s triple misfortune for you.” Shelly sniggered.

“How so?”

“Firstly, you’ve told me where my ingredients are. Secondly, you told me where the key is.” Shelly was interrupted by the sound of Olaf swallowing, to which he slid the blade from his sleeve into his hand and cocked the pistol hidden in his other hand. “Thirdly, I do so hate extortion and I’m afraid I’m going to have to operate on Olaf, and in such low light conditions, I’m afraid his chances of survival are almost nil, as are yours!”

The shadows were his friends, he had watched for oh so long from them that they proved nothing but a hindrance to his victims as the warehouse echoed with screams of pain and shock.

***

Grabbing him was never satisfying, as much as he wanted to tear him limb from limb, it never worked out the way he wanted it to. This beach was proving to be a place of torment. His punches swung too slowly or the bastard would reform. The firepower unleashed was agonising but the frustration of not being able to destroy him was worse. He began to loathe the beach more and more.

***

Falling.
Hyde was falling.
He saw the stars of the night sky and the solid cobbles below as he landed with a hard smash. As he writhed on the floor in confusion, he tried to recall what Jekyll was doing just before the fall but he could not. His mind filled with panic once again as he realised it must have been the other one. The cracking sound alerted him to the broken bones. A few potions later and he would be fine… if Jekyll had brewed any up. This endless battle was getting boring, even for Hyde. He reminisced on the good old days when the bad partnership between him and Jekyll was all there was. Jekyll would never be so reckless. He was supposed to be the chaotic one. Hyde limped away wincing with pain and twitching at the indecency of having such a crowded head. His body recovered from the wounds quicker than expected, at least that was one saving grace.

It wasn't until several roads later, he realised that his hands were covered with blood. Thick, deep red arterial blood. He was supposed to be the killer. Yet here he was; an accessory to a crime he hadn't enjoyed, He vaguely recalled the sound of screams in the background as he fell. Hyde couldn't remember the deed “he” had done, and it frustrated him far more than it disturbed him. He had some strange instrument in his hands, it might be from a laboratory perhaps. Not quite a scalpel and not quite a pincer. What had this alter ego been up to? Was this the work of the original? Or something far more sinister? He had to contemplate the idea that he might just be losing his mind. As much as he would regret it, he realised that he needed help. He came to the conclusion that he needed... a psychologist.
“Now where do I find Dr Babbage?” Hyde grumbled to himself.
_________________
OOC: Joe H
IC: Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde / H...I stopped counting
IC: Ichiro Kage of the Tanuki
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Joe



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Location: Birmingham

PostPosted: Sun Jan 13, 2019 11:05 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The room was dimly lit with lanterns and there was a horrendous smell of contagion in the air. He had worn a mask for this visit and considered taking it off, the patient didn’t open a single eyelid or look at him and so he kept it on. The pestilence didn’t scare him as much as the smell he would have to endure. Neither were truly important nor of consequence and so he paid them no more attention as he spoke to the withered husk weakly clinging to life on the bed.

“It's just a chemical reaction, you know. All emotions are when you delve into the alchemy far enough. Your body is a most complex crucible. That yearning, that need to be hugged, that desire for love… it's an addiction for a humour produced in the head to trick the heart into forming bonds so that mothers don't reject their offspring. What a wonderful cruel trick nature has played on you. You think you dislike pain because it hurts but it hurts because your body punishes your mind for causing it injury and the numbness after the pain is another chemical… so you tell me… who is truly in control of you? You body or your mind? I could synthesise all those emotions you know. I could jab you with a shot of love, lust, nostalgia or how about some joy? Why not bliss out on some chemical happiness because the real thing is just another illusion.”

The breathing was more laboured now. Dr Shelly gently stroked her arm causing a tingle followed by a sharp piercing pain of the needle of the syringe. The patient grimaced for a moment but she was too weak to truly object. What strength remained was busy fighting off the suffocating failure of her body.

“It's all just illusions created within your body. Your response is just conditioning. What I am offering is clarity. You should be thankful that I've chosen you above all others to experience pure clarity. A detachment from all emotions and their deceitful sensations of pain and pleasure. The disease you have is terminal and your lungs are badly scarred. If I were humane I would put you out of your mystery and give you the gift if death but we both know that such a thing would be an overly compassionate waste. Just one more emotion clouding a proper judgement. What would we learn from that? How would your meaningless life contribute in the great scheme of things? Why that would make you less than a grain of sand on a beach, just another walking husk of rotting meat delirious on the humours within your blood that compel you to feel things and partake in the pantomime of self importance. Or… or you could contribute to the great work. You could be a shining stone within a tower of science reaching up to the stars and heavens. You could be a step within a staircase that allows us to ascend to something beyond godhood. Humankind freed from the chemical shackles of forced feelings and given the clarity to truly understand and appreciate it all. True vision and thought freed from the chemical bondage you were born into. Once such a pure clarity is obtained, the mastery of the flesh is but a few footsteps away and so not you but others like you can evolve past the limits of this diseased rotting flesh you call a body. So what say you?” Shelly asked. She murmured something almost inaudible but he listened carefully.

“Please just take the pain away.” She begged.

“Very well.” Shelly sighed. “You don't quite understand… but you will. Your sacrifice will enrich the cause and this experiment will progress my work another step forward.” He grabbed his notebook and scribbled down a note:

Subject 019U under the effects of formula C271 targeted at the upper cerebral cortex at 0200 hours.

He administered the serum and observed the results. Several hours later he left the building and returned to his accommodation. He checked his pocket watch and calculated how long he had before the next incursion. After checking his supplies of grace and pain. Shelly thought back to his observations and made more notes:


The Nineteenth subject died after an hour and a half. The frail physical condition was no doubt the reason for such an early expiration and the formula was not at fault on this occasion. The consumption was advanced and the lungs were heavily scarred which interfered with respiration. However some of the insights from the patient were fascinating. Although untrained in medicine, she demonstrated a rudimentary analysis of her own condition even if the language was devoid of medical terms. Without being giving factual information, a basic self-diagnosis of the body seemed to occur. There appeared to be a very definite separation of the personality and an objectivity that had been lacking moments prior.

Reminder to consult with surgeons who have also operated on the brain as a permanent separation of hemispheres may be the key. Such drastic surgery would have approximately a 65% failure rate without other medical precautions being put in place first.

In addition, altering the dose to increase the loss of pain sensation may submerge Hyde for even longer than first anticipated. Removing the “higher” emotional responses to positive stimuli by suppressing the previous mentioned natural humours may not be as successful in reducing Jekyll occurrences as first hypothesized. Final batches of formula G007 seem to have a degraded solvent which may affect the previous calculation of re-emergence.

The third party remains a mystery and frustrating in its lack of cohesion to the previously mentioned pattern. It is but a splinter and so will inherit traits from the greater shard. The hypothesis about this being an adaption of the Higher Intellect as a self defense mechanism remains as speculation since none of the corresponding memories of any party appear to match up to this. Complete elimination of this “Horatio” seems to be the only viable option for now. Likelihood of incursion of this persona before re-emergence is at 66% and increases if the dosage of G007 is higher than 25mg. A frustrating conundrum yet to be solved. All necessary apparatus and notes will be hidden away as no other party share these recollections. Although I am wary when it comes to underestimating Horatio as his true origin is baffling at this time since the shard exceeded the previous calculation. Underestimation of this menace would be hubris. Countermeasures and ciphers have be set up as previously mentioned.

_________________
OOC: Joe H
IC: Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde / H...I stopped counting
IC: Ichiro Kage of the Tanuki
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