Everyday Freak Of Science: Part 1

Everyday Freak of Science: part 1

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

Where am I? A box? A...coffin? That last one makes the most sense. I can't breathe in here; there's no water.

Oh. They've discarded me. I suppose my existence became more of a burden then a point of pride. Then again, I don't think I should've been a point of pride in the first place.

Suddenly, the lid opens, and I am sprawled out on cold stone. I still cannot breathe, but I suppose this was always going to be my fate.

Footsteps. Heels, clacking on the ground, closer and closer, approaching. I can see shoes now, paused in front of me. I don't recognize them. Is this a stranger? Did the lab get a new researcher?

"Well, this is a problem."

The voice sounds unfamiliar, like someone I've never met. Male, probably.

The heels clack again. I see the person leave, jogging, and the room is silent once again.

Goodbye, mysterious stranger. Have a nice day.

Wait, the clacking is back. And it... brought a friend?

"Oh! Yes, that little pup certainly needs some help. I don't think he can breathe."

The new voice is also unfamiliar. I see the furry ends of a long coat, and black shoes, and, oh, the newer guy is lifting my head up.

"Drink this. Quickly, pup!"

Before I can protest, the newer one has lifted my face and poured something down it. I struggle for a moment, but soon discover something.

My scales, grey in most and black in part, are vanishing. My tail splits into legs, and my gills close in favor of lungs, and I can suddenly breathe.

"What just...Happened?"

The man with the long coat appears amused. "First time? Don't worry about it. The potions are free of charge for students who need them."

Students? Is this a school? Am I... normal? No, this has to be another experiment. They've never studied my behavior beyond "how sharklike is his brain?"

Then again... this doesn't feel malicious, or curious. This man, this strange, unfamiliar man, just seems like he's being nice.

"Are you going to go back in your box? We need to start the ceremony."

Bird Man is talking again. What ceremony? I've never been in one of those. Maybe... maybe this will be fun.

Time to figure out how to walk.

"One foot in front of the other, pup. It takes some getting used to, I know."

Surprisingly, it's...not that difficult. The only hard part is balance, but some part of me rights myself when I'm about to fall. That's probably my human genes.

Soon, I'm back in my box. It's cozy, now that I can breathe in here. I didn't expect that.

I hear something- footsteps. Hundreds, all filing into the vast chamber. Why are there so many people here?

Students. Entrance ceremony. Is this how the first day starts at schools? Thinking about it brings about some kind of feeling... joy? I wouldn't know, but I like this.

After a few long seconds, I fall into a sleep. How strange, I wasn't tired. Oh, well.

I wake. Was I asleep for only a second? Oh, well. There's people- what do I do? So many of them, face after face after face-

I don't know how I know what to do, but something says to leave my cozy box, walk in front of the floating ellipse, face it directly- there's a face, like an enchanted mask, on the other side.

It stares. For a moment, it stares, and then it speaks.

"Octanville!"

I turn around. Someone with glasses and off-white hair that's just the slightest bit blue motions for me to stand behind him. I follow.

"Hello," whispers a voice next to me. I turn, frantically searching for the source, and find a boy with teal hair, mismatched eyes, and a soft smile. "I am Jade, vice housewarden of Octanville. What is your name?"

I don't answer at first. I'm too busy looking at this guy's teeth- triangular teeth, just like mine. Teeth from the ocean, meant for catching prey.

"I'm talking to you, with the grey hair that has black tips. Can you hear me?"

This time, I talk. He's waiting for an answer now, and I ought to give him one.

"Y-yes."

He smiles again, teeth hidden behind his lips. "What is your name?"

I recall the name I was given by the researchers. On paper, I was 18-24C. In practice, I was The Little Mershark, him, eight-dash, blacktip, sharkie, and, by the one researcher who treated me like something sentient, like something with feelings and fears and the capacity to wonder, I was called "Requiem."

Mostly, though, people just called me "You." It got so common, they started spelling it Y-u-u to avoid confusion.

My favorite name was the one the nice scientist gave me, "Requiem."

"All right. That's a very pretty name, Requiem. What's your last name?"

Oh, I said that out loud. Just the name, I hope. What did he ask? My last name? Well, the closest thing I've ever had to a name is Requiem, so... wait! Humans have a formal name, their last name, and a casual name, their first one. Was Requiem more formal?

It was both. Crap. What do I tell this guy?

"Melanopterus." Well, that's the back half of my scientific name, so... It counts, right?

"M-e-l-a-n-o-p-t-e-r-u-s?"

"Uh... yep."

How did he get that? No matter, I think I have a chance. Maybe, just maybe, this is a place where my existence isn't a mistake. Or, maybe, this is a place where my existence as a mistake is okay.

OKAY, I'M GOING TO GO BACK TO WRITING!

MY DAD GOT OUT OF THE HOSPITAL ALIVE. MY MOM'S HUSBAND GOT OUT OF THE HOSPITAL ALIVE. NO MORE DISTRACTIONS. WOO!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

The second line of this exact Idia dialouge from the GloMas event describes my feelings towards this perfectly

According to all known laws of #wriolette, there is no way a #ortho shroud should be able to #glomas.

This is part 22 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

Sam's shop. I've never been there before, but it's about time to change that, I'd say. We need the distraction. Grim is enjoying it fully, probably thinking about the tuna he's sure to get.

And here we are! Admittedly, I'm not sure if we can afford anything that's not on sale, but it's worth a shot, right?

The shelves are stocked high, but not too high- many students are a bit short, so the items are only about two and a half meters off the ground at the highest. Despite that, there are stools along the ends of the rows, magically attached to their paths along the edges of the isles. I don't need them.

"Okay, Grim, can you smell the tuna or anything? I don't know where to look."

"No need, dear customers! I'll show you, just follow me."

Grim and I follow the man in the patchwork top hat through the expanse of items and prices, recognizing him as Sam, the owner. As he leads us, an odd feeling settles itself into my being. What is it? Oh, that's it- though the shelves are short, the store is vast, stretching onward like a neverending maze. Following Sam through all this feels a lot like I'm walking through a limnal space, guided by a supernatural entity of unknown origin.

"Here we are!" In front of us, Sam is motioning to a shelf with stout cans of tuna stacked one atop another. Sure enough, the price tag on the edge of the suspiciously strong plastic reads "SALE" and is followed by a slashed-out price displayed above a price that's worth half the original, written in larger font. I don't need to look to know Grim's reaction.

"Thank you!" I wave to Sam, grab some tuna, and turn back. He's gone by then, so I just move Grim to my other shoulder and walk to the counter. Sam is waiting there, smiling as usual, and sends us off with an enthusiastic "Thank you!" When we pay and leave.

How unusual. Oh, well. I'll let Grim have a can of this now, and the rest can be saved. Now, where's a trash can?..oh, over there!

...huh. There's a spot in the trash bags over here that's cleared out, about the size of a first-year student. Why? I can't see any reason someone would clear this out. Other than boredom, but this looks like it's been here for a while now. How odd. Meh.

I trash the lid and walk away. We have better things to do. Say, for example, hiding pencil erasers in Ace's bag until he notices and says something, or trying to figure out what the hell is up with Korrak.

"Myeeh, do you hear that?" I stop walking, merely two steps from the indent, and attempt to fine-tune my ears. When I hold my breath, I hear it. Music.

I'm a sin, but I'm half of the hourglass, glass, glass

I don't recognize the song, but I hear it. There is definitely some kind of music playing. But from where? A quick glance at Grim's ears tell me it's toward the pile of trash.

I turn around, slowly, silently, and look a little closer. The music is decently loud now, but I can't see its source.

"Hold my can." I take the half-eaten can of tuna from Grim with one hand and lower the other to allow him to jump down. He ignores the platform entirely and jumps down without my help, landing on concrete and quickly deciding he'd rather move the bags with magic than with his paws or face. The one right in front of him glows somewhat, rises, and reveals a pair of beaten-up headphones plugged into a strange, once-white rectangle.

Grim looks at me. I reach in with my free hand, grab the headphones, and Grim releases the trash bag the instant nothing is under it anymore in favor of hopping onto my arm. When I'm fully upright again, I pass Grim his tuna.

"Myeeh, thanks." He returns to eating. I try and examine the device. It resembles a rectangle when viewed from the front or back, but looking at the top gives it a more almond shape- if almonds were pointed at two ends and not rounded at one. It's very thin, too, much thinner than an almond.

The music still plays. I can't identify the song, but this is probably on a playlist, so I wait for the song to end. It loops.

Dah dah dah dah, da-dah dah dah, dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah

The music kicks up. I still don't recognize the song. The headphones don't fit over my head, but, in my endeavors to put them on, I see him, on the edge of my vision. Barely visible.

Korrak. I don't see Rook. Why is he here?

Ok, Yuu, hold on. You don't want to sound suspicious. That's your roommate and friend. He doesn't know I've seen him yet. So...

I turn to face him and ask, "Hey, are these yours?" He startles. Okay, maybe that wasn't the right move. Still, he attempts to reply- a series of quiet chitters and chirps I can't understand, yet still too loud to miss for my now cat-level hearing, even over the wind and faint music.

"Yeah," Mandible nods, presumably translating for Korrak, "those are ours. Thanks for finding them." I can't be sure as to why Korrak stutters and Mandible doesn't.

"Well, here you go. Your song is still playing." Indeed it is, the singer's voice calling out to be remembered for hundreds of years. Korrak, upon seeing my outstretched hand, visibly relaxes and reaches out to take it.

I've seen that reaction before, on videos, in photos, and in the mirror- not the magic one- when I realized something I saw as precious hadn't been stolen or lost, but was being returned to me.

I saw it in Grim's eyes, reflected from my own when I saw him before the entrance ceremony.

These must be important to them. They've probably had them for years and years, a persistent source of comfort through tough and easy times alike.

Grim was like that for me.

"Thanks," speaks Mandible. It takes me a moment to register his words as his, momentary confusion clouding my judgment of Korrak's voice vs. Mandible's jaws moving. The confusion clears with a single word rushing into my mind: ventriloquism.

Another question rises from the ashes of my puzzlement, burning like a Phoenix: why doesn't Mandible stutter?

Just as quickly, the question abandons me, and nothing more comes of the interaction- rather, a new one begins at the moment's end, with Rook walking up and playing a hand on Korrak's unoccupied shoulder. Korrak briefly panics, a flash of intense fear taking root in his eyes, but that fear is pulled up when he realizes whose wrist the black-gloved hand is attached to.

"Monseurs," Rook begins, nodding at me and Grim as well as Korrak and Mandible, "Come with me. You are going to brew potions in class soon, and I have been instructed to ensure that you all know the basics and how to apply them."

I approach when Rook motions with his free- well, not really, he's holding his bow with that one- hand for me and Grim to follow his lead. A short-feeling walk later, we're back at Pomefiore's main building, through the lounge, down a flight of stairs, and standing in a dark, basementy room that reminds me of medieval castles- if they were cleaned and the atmosphere of a damp, uneven-floored chamber were intentionally crafted. Rook leads us over to a cauldron, and I see the nearby bench against the wall. Epel is sitting there, head slumped a little to his right like he's drowsy, but not yet asleep.

Rook snaps his fingers. Epel jolts upright, his head turning rapidly from side to side until he spots us and hurries from his seat to a spot beside the cauldron. He's in his labwear, and, with a flick of his magic pen, so is Rook. Korrak follows suit, swapping his neatly-buttoned jacket, dress shirt, and Pomefiore-purple vest for a dull white lab coat and a pair of the goggles every Pomefiore student has. Mandible chitters something I don't know at him, and, a moment later, me and Grim are the only ones not in labwear- a fact soon made false. Clearly, my practice is paying off.

Rook waves his magic pen again, filling the cauldron with a shimmering liquid I initially fail to recognize as water in the opalescent lighting of the room. Epel looks at us all, moving his goggles down his face to sit over his eyes once Grim taps the clear frame of the cat-adjacent familiar's protective eyewear.

"Now, then," the vice housewarden speaks up, his voice steadfast, "Every Pomefiore student worth their salt needs a flawless pharmalogical grounding." He briefly moves away to fetch a cart with three levels, the upper two of which are covered in a thick, single layer of small glass vials with corks. The top jars look to contain herbs, judging by the faded green and slightly-wilted brown reflected and refracted by the smooth, light-bending surface of their containers. The ones on the middle level, however, appear to contain a collective rainbow of various spices, rocks, furs, and everything else Crewel hasn't let us touch yet, with the exception of equipment.

I squint at the sudden, unmistakable scent of mint wafting off the cart, in spite of the fact that it's on Rook's right and I'm on his left. Grim moves to cover his nose with his paws, but stops when he remembers he's wearing lab gloves and that might not be a bright idea. Looking over, Mandible's nose is twitching like mad- he and Korrak must be getting the brunt of it.

In asingle half-second, I realize Rook is holding his breath, his chest steady instead of slowly moving with his lungs, and then he pushes the cork down onto a vial I hadn't noticed him reaching for, closing it. The aggressive scent of mint wanes and blows away. Rook exhales and inhales, clearly relived. He's a hunter; his sense of smell is sharp. Too-strong oders must be overwhelming to him- they are to me.

A memory surfaces in my mind- falling asleep in a bed of mint, wild mint, dug up and moved to one spot, with Grim in my arms, and then it fades, vanishing like clear gel tossed into the sea. Another event rises into the forefront of my attention, more solid and vivid than the last. The mix of disappointment and sorrow that rose then comes with it, soon yet gradualy overtaken by the sense of apathy that settled into my being back then. That numbness stuck around for years until fate dragged me into this school to reunite with Grim and feel again.

Why did that particular memory surface? What is it that ties then to now, only now? Laying in a bed of mint- oh! My nose is sharper now, much sharper. Back then, I could lie in a bed of it and rest well, but now a meter and a half away is too close.

My familiar stands on all fours and stretches straight up, claws digging ever-so-slightly into the surface of my skin and coat. I snap back to the present. That's right, I'm busy. Busy doing what? Oh, that's right, Rook's helping with upcoming potionology work.

"Now, then..." Rook doesn't talk too much, evidently favoring the act of guiding us by our hands and arms, only commenting when the herbs become involved. Contrawise, he hums near-constantly, one of the melodies bringing the earlier encounter with Korrak and Mandible to my immediate attention. It's the same song.

Rook was there. Good. That means Korrak had some other company. I was a little worried, but now that I know Rook was there to keep an eye on them, some tension I was previously unaware of dissapates like smoke set free from a jar and into the cool evening breeze.

Soon, though, we are back upstairs, in the Backstage Room, discussing as we usually do. I hear someone say the time and our roommates leave me to complete my last two steps with ease, choosing to brush Grim until we're both off to bed. Korrak is asleep by the time we get there, and, soon, Grim curls up in his cat bed as I curl up in my human bed, and then we both close our eyes for the night. My dreams are a single, simple phrase:

"Memory Lane"

Hello! I need medication for life to prevent my lungs from collapsing, this implies permanent treatment with steroids, oxygen therapy, control of oxygen in the blood and antibiotics to prevent the development of bacteria in the lungs.

I'm afraid I have to insist on this because it may be the only way to get my treatment.

I need medication for life to keep my lungs from collapsing, this costs around $700 per month.

Things are really tough on me,I can’t afford. Please donate🖤

That is tragic, and I hope you get the treatment you need. The US health system really sucks, doesn't it? Also, congrats on being my first ask!

...Anyway, why did you send this to a fanfic blog? You didn't even include a link.

FINALLY

Chapter 66 kicked my ass for way too long but yay!! Finally!