[Psuedo-log] Oshitari, OC
Feb. 25th, 2006 02:24 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
operant-sense.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tenipuri_xpDate: Friday afternoon
Rated: PGish for descriptions of not so nice things
Summary: OC pov; A look at where Oshitari has ended up after his abduction last week...
“We can’t have the subject dehydrated, Uchiyamada. 200 milliliters of water. And no talking to it.”
Jotting notes distractedly on his clipboard, Dr. Kiriyama Nobu glanced up at his right hand assistant, his face serious and cold. The other man bowed to him automatically, if rather stiffly, backing away with murmured assurances to do what was instructed of him. Behind him, there were only the sounds of the various other lab technicians going about their business, analyzing the data they had so far.
Kiriyama didn’t have the best track record keeping assistants, after all. They all knew their place.
Setting down the clipboard with a clatter, the 43-year-old scientist stood, moving around the counter to stop at the window of the actual lab. Through the one-way glass, he observed his newest acquisition. The young man hung suspended, strapped securely to the circular mechanism that Kiriyama had designed years ago. It allowed for maximum access to the subject, in any position he required for the various procedures he performed. Once the testing was complete and the data analyzed and up to date, they could begin with the serious experimentation. He had several variations of the serum he and other of his fellow scientists had concocted over the years.
Black eyes watched, coldly amused as Uchiyamada lifted the subject’s chin, placing the cup at its lips. Dutifully, it drank, the blindfold it had worn for the last two days preventing Kiriyama from seeing its eyes. But, he hypothesized this one was an opportunist. Sure enough, the last mouthful of water unerringly ended up in his assistant’s face.
He hadn’t been so challenged by a subject in a while. Typically, after being subjected to the harsh interrogations of the military, not to mention his own initial testing, most mutants gave up, or begged for death. Or they simply screamed until they were of no use to him any longer.
This one, even after being in his care for near a week, was still evading him. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t gotten quite a bit of data from him already. They had samples: a few strands of blue hair, skin, saliva, blood and semen. The last had been interesting enough. He’d overseen it personally, since most male subjects fought this the most. Subject 202 hadn’t even flinched, merely stared directly at him, boredom scrawled across his face. The reaction was of itself more than enough reason for Kiriyama to oversee this particular subject himself.
All the other subjects had broken already, at any rate. His military connections were being rather slow in procuring more for him. They hadn’t even wanted to let this one go. Apparently it was well connected to one of their little political lackeys…well no matter now.
Initial testing had gone rather smoothly on subject 202. Above typical adjusting to extreme temperature exposures, higher than normal pain threshold, reflexes good, extreme intelligence…
Mentally flipping through his notes, he pondered what mutation 202 had. The report said it seemed to be some sort of hallucination-inducing ability, and had been used liberally against its interrogators until the subject had blacked out. Kiriyama had already examined and autopsied the corpses left behind in the tunnel after they’d been brought in. Only one of them showed any abnormal signs in their brains, most particularly the frontal lobes. Results showed the victim’s mind showing the same post mortem patterns as an autistic patient.
Which led him to believe subject 202 somehow overloaded his sensory input to the point where the man became unable to function, leaving him open to be finished off by the other mutant. Kiriyama was already cross-referencing reports on the other mutant. A speed-enhanced mutant would be intriguing to study. But first he was going to learn 202’s abilities. He couldn’t accurately theorize what the serums would do to this one if he couldn’t learn what made it tick. So far, it was being stubborn, refusing to show him its power. He had the cat scans and EKG results…interesting fluctuations. As if this one’s power was building up in his brain with no possible outlet. Kiriyama wondered to himself just how long it could last that way.
He moved from the window, stepping past Uchiyamada into the containment room. The assistant mopped his face and flicked him a curious look but Kiriyama ignored him, walking surely over in front of his test subject. He said nothing, merely gazed over the quiet mutant with assessing black eyes. The severe bruises left behind from its interrogation were only just starting to fade from its body, still livid and a lurid mass of purple in various areas. The precise cutting was healing over as well, slower than usual, but that was what happened to a body only getting essential nutrients rather than food. Kiriyama’s eyes flicked to the various IV’s taped securely to 202’s arms, the small tube running into his stomach, the catheter and colostomy bag…everything seemed in order.
“I know you are there.”
The scientist jerked his gaze up at the hoarse, Kansai-accented voice. He said nothing, but 202’s head rose blindly, sure even behind its blindfold. “I know you are there”, it repeated, hands flexing just so in the restraints. “I recognize your footsteps. I can smell your cheap aftershave…your taste in that is appalling, by the way.” The subject smirked. “Are you quite done? Is this the testing I was to be afraid of? Shooting me with placebos to disconcert me? Sensory deprivation? Telling me everyday what’s become of the others? As if I would believe you…if you want to live, doctor, you will release me now.”
Not so sure anymore, Kiriyama thought. At first he’d been taken aback by 202’s intelligence and ability to accurately predict what direction the testing was to undertake. Until he had looked back at the subject’s background. This one could have done anything it wanted with its brains…had it been human and not a mutant. Now, there was an underlying fear under the sharp words, and the scientist’s eyes flashed with a little unholy gleam. It wouldn’t be long now.
He didn’t respond to the threat, rather he turned away and walked back out, listening to the soft, quickening breath of the mutant behind him. Back behind the glass, Kiriyama looked again. He was valuable to the anti-mutant coalition; his research into the intricacies of various mutations and his work on serums to control these inhuman things would change the world for the better. Once he was finished dealing with the drug needed for the military to utilize mutants the way they wanted to, he could continue his research to exorcise these anomalies, prevent them from even existing.
Unlike his foolish colleague who’d gotten herself and her entire staff killed by the mutants she’d captured on a raid to a known mutant school. What a waste…he could have used her data. He’d warned about being so complacent with her subjects, and see what had come of it. To think he’d assisted engineering those collars, only to have put them in incompetent hands. Well no matter, he’d also engineered a drug that incapacitated mutants just as well as the collars did. It had proven useful mixed with the sedative that had ultimately knocked this subject out in the limo. He only used it sparingly, and at such a low dose that the subject itself might not realize it remained in its system, in case it got any ideas. So far, all was going well.
And now that subject 202 was beginning to weaken, it was time. “Uchiyamada”, he barked, cold, black eyes never leaving the window even as he tapped excitedly against the window frame with a finger. He felt rather than saw his assistant step beside him, ready for his order. A very slow, satisfied smile stretched Kiriyama’s lips as he gazed out at his subject.
“Number 202 is ready. Prepare him for the next stage of testing. I want to begin within the hour.”
That left him plenty of time for lunch while his assistant rushed to do his bidding. His well-prepared soup and bento would be enough to warm him up for the next phase. As he left the lab, subject 198 began screaming again, far off down the hall in its holding cell. He didn’t even acknowledge it as he made his way to the commissary.
Tomorrow, he thought, Some Kansai style sushi would be appropriate for lunch.
It was a hungry business, after all, saving the world from mutant parasites.
Rated: PGish for descriptions of not so nice things
Summary: OC pov; A look at where Oshitari has ended up after his abduction last week...
“We can’t have the subject dehydrated, Uchiyamada. 200 milliliters of water. And no talking to it.”
Jotting notes distractedly on his clipboard, Dr. Kiriyama Nobu glanced up at his right hand assistant, his face serious and cold. The other man bowed to him automatically, if rather stiffly, backing away with murmured assurances to do what was instructed of him. Behind him, there were only the sounds of the various other lab technicians going about their business, analyzing the data they had so far.
Kiriyama didn’t have the best track record keeping assistants, after all. They all knew their place.
Setting down the clipboard with a clatter, the 43-year-old scientist stood, moving around the counter to stop at the window of the actual lab. Through the one-way glass, he observed his newest acquisition. The young man hung suspended, strapped securely to the circular mechanism that Kiriyama had designed years ago. It allowed for maximum access to the subject, in any position he required for the various procedures he performed. Once the testing was complete and the data analyzed and up to date, they could begin with the serious experimentation. He had several variations of the serum he and other of his fellow scientists had concocted over the years.
Black eyes watched, coldly amused as Uchiyamada lifted the subject’s chin, placing the cup at its lips. Dutifully, it drank, the blindfold it had worn for the last two days preventing Kiriyama from seeing its eyes. But, he hypothesized this one was an opportunist. Sure enough, the last mouthful of water unerringly ended up in his assistant’s face.
He hadn’t been so challenged by a subject in a while. Typically, after being subjected to the harsh interrogations of the military, not to mention his own initial testing, most mutants gave up, or begged for death. Or they simply screamed until they were of no use to him any longer.
This one, even after being in his care for near a week, was still evading him. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t gotten quite a bit of data from him already. They had samples: a few strands of blue hair, skin, saliva, blood and semen. The last had been interesting enough. He’d overseen it personally, since most male subjects fought this the most. Subject 202 hadn’t even flinched, merely stared directly at him, boredom scrawled across his face. The reaction was of itself more than enough reason for Kiriyama to oversee this particular subject himself.
All the other subjects had broken already, at any rate. His military connections were being rather slow in procuring more for him. They hadn’t even wanted to let this one go. Apparently it was well connected to one of their little political lackeys…well no matter now.
Initial testing had gone rather smoothly on subject 202. Above typical adjusting to extreme temperature exposures, higher than normal pain threshold, reflexes good, extreme intelligence…
Mentally flipping through his notes, he pondered what mutation 202 had. The report said it seemed to be some sort of hallucination-inducing ability, and had been used liberally against its interrogators until the subject had blacked out. Kiriyama had already examined and autopsied the corpses left behind in the tunnel after they’d been brought in. Only one of them showed any abnormal signs in their brains, most particularly the frontal lobes. Results showed the victim’s mind showing the same post mortem patterns as an autistic patient.
Which led him to believe subject 202 somehow overloaded his sensory input to the point where the man became unable to function, leaving him open to be finished off by the other mutant. Kiriyama was already cross-referencing reports on the other mutant. A speed-enhanced mutant would be intriguing to study. But first he was going to learn 202’s abilities. He couldn’t accurately theorize what the serums would do to this one if he couldn’t learn what made it tick. So far, it was being stubborn, refusing to show him its power. He had the cat scans and EKG results…interesting fluctuations. As if this one’s power was building up in his brain with no possible outlet. Kiriyama wondered to himself just how long it could last that way.
He moved from the window, stepping past Uchiyamada into the containment room. The assistant mopped his face and flicked him a curious look but Kiriyama ignored him, walking surely over in front of his test subject. He said nothing, merely gazed over the quiet mutant with assessing black eyes. The severe bruises left behind from its interrogation were only just starting to fade from its body, still livid and a lurid mass of purple in various areas. The precise cutting was healing over as well, slower than usual, but that was what happened to a body only getting essential nutrients rather than food. Kiriyama’s eyes flicked to the various IV’s taped securely to 202’s arms, the small tube running into his stomach, the catheter and colostomy bag…everything seemed in order.
“I know you are there.”
The scientist jerked his gaze up at the hoarse, Kansai-accented voice. He said nothing, but 202’s head rose blindly, sure even behind its blindfold. “I know you are there”, it repeated, hands flexing just so in the restraints. “I recognize your footsteps. I can smell your cheap aftershave…your taste in that is appalling, by the way.” The subject smirked. “Are you quite done? Is this the testing I was to be afraid of? Shooting me with placebos to disconcert me? Sensory deprivation? Telling me everyday what’s become of the others? As if I would believe you…if you want to live, doctor, you will release me now.”
Not so sure anymore, Kiriyama thought. At first he’d been taken aback by 202’s intelligence and ability to accurately predict what direction the testing was to undertake. Until he had looked back at the subject’s background. This one could have done anything it wanted with its brains…had it been human and not a mutant. Now, there was an underlying fear under the sharp words, and the scientist’s eyes flashed with a little unholy gleam. It wouldn’t be long now.
He didn’t respond to the threat, rather he turned away and walked back out, listening to the soft, quickening breath of the mutant behind him. Back behind the glass, Kiriyama looked again. He was valuable to the anti-mutant coalition; his research into the intricacies of various mutations and his work on serums to control these inhuman things would change the world for the better. Once he was finished dealing with the drug needed for the military to utilize mutants the way they wanted to, he could continue his research to exorcise these anomalies, prevent them from even existing.
Unlike his foolish colleague who’d gotten herself and her entire staff killed by the mutants she’d captured on a raid to a known mutant school. What a waste…he could have used her data. He’d warned about being so complacent with her subjects, and see what had come of it. To think he’d assisted engineering those collars, only to have put them in incompetent hands. Well no matter, he’d also engineered a drug that incapacitated mutants just as well as the collars did. It had proven useful mixed with the sedative that had ultimately knocked this subject out in the limo. He only used it sparingly, and at such a low dose that the subject itself might not realize it remained in its system, in case it got any ideas. So far, all was going well.
And now that subject 202 was beginning to weaken, it was time. “Uchiyamada”, he barked, cold, black eyes never leaving the window even as he tapped excitedly against the window frame with a finger. He felt rather than saw his assistant step beside him, ready for his order. A very slow, satisfied smile stretched Kiriyama’s lips as he gazed out at his subject.
“Number 202 is ready. Prepare him for the next stage of testing. I want to begin within the hour.”
That left him plenty of time for lunch while his assistant rushed to do his bidding. His well-prepared soup and bento would be enough to warm him up for the next phase. As he left the lab, subject 198 began screaming again, far off down the hall in its holding cell. He didn’t even acknowledge it as he made his way to the commissary.
Tomorrow, he thought, Some Kansai style sushi would be appropriate for lunch.
It was a hungry business, after all, saving the world from mutant parasites.
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