An empty apartment building situated next to a brothel had its own benefits, but the cons that came along with it were certainly annoying, especially during meditation or when he was doing his homework. Jack could have forgiven that, though, but what he couldn't forgive was his peace being disturbed. Every so often, he had to bang his leg on the wall to quiet the wet plap plap and gasping noises next door or simply go over to tell his neighbor to quiet it down. But today, he had had enough. Not only because his carefully constructed mask was currently in danger of being unraveled, but also because his guest, whom he had brought home to help him out with his project, was similarly incapable of concentrating.
"Is this… normal?" Stacy asked, the voices from beyond the wall amplifying tenfold as the woman behind the wall yelled in ecstasy, which only made the situation more awkward for both of them as Stacy averted her eyes from his in embarrassment. It couldn't be helped. He was used to this as the consequence of living in a terrible neighborhood, but Stacy wasn't, and although she tried not to be rude about it, the way her ears twitched a little and her poor attempts at humor while she tried to pretend like she hadn't heard anything was enough to tell him everything. "Uhhh… not usually?" he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore how hot his face felt.
"I mean, they're loud and…" God, he hoped he didn't sound like a pathetic pervert who was into this.
Stacy let out a laugh, but quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry—sorry! I'm not laughing at you, I swear. It's just…" he groaned, placing a hand up to silence her. "I get it." And he did; part of the reason he hated bringing people to his house was because of that stuff, but since the day was Flondar, the volume next door was even worse than usual. It was only his mistake that he had forgotten about that. Getting up, he raked a hand through his hair, walked over to the empty jar underneath his bed, took it out, and showed it to a wide-eyed Stacy, who stared at the thing inside it as if it were the most valuable piece of machinery there ever was. And she was probably right.
"This…" he said, pointing at the jar, "is Reginald. He is a bioengineered life form that I created using my power, although it's been a bit of a challenge for me to keep him alive." Setting the jar gently on the table, he made sure to be careful not to jostle its tiny occupant. "Pretty neat, huh?" He waited for Stacy's reaction, bracing himself for either her fascination or fear, but instead, she leaned in, not at all afraid of the potential bioweapon, her curiosity peaked as she studied the tiny figure curled in the jar's soft glow. "Neat?" she whispered. "Jack, this is incredible. He's… alive."
Reginald twitched, the water around him sloshing in response to the sudden movement; yet Jack couldn't help but feel a small swell of pride despite himself. "Sort of, yes," he admitted. "I programmed him by modifying an existing single-celled organism, and with my power, I was able to generate enough cells to build a sort of cohesive multicellular construct," he finished, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't even know what to call it exactly at the moment, or if this thing is even legal," or if it was even safe to have around, but he decided to keep that last part to himself.
Stacy's brows knitted as she watched Reginald's tiny limbs move in the fluid. "You built a living being in your bedroom while your neighbors were—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "Right. Not the point. Jack... do you realize how big this is? If you could do this much with your power, just imagine how many lives you could save and how much money you could make. Seriously, why don't you enroll already?" And there it was. He forced a smile, giving the same reply that he always does: "It's complicated."
Stacy didn't look at all convinced, but she decided that it was best not to probe any further, which he really appreciated.
"So… this is cool and all, but where do I come in?" she asked, holding her notebook a little tighter now that the initial awe had settled and the practical questions were starting to surface. Jack exhaled slowly, grateful for the shift in focus. "Right. So, uh… I need your help because Reginald keeps destabilizing whenever I try to push his development any further." Holding the little jar up, he angled it so the soft lamplight caught the faint luster of the fluid. "His structure starts breaking down after a few minutes, and I can't figure out why."
Stacy nodded, easing into her problem-solving mode. "Okay," she murmured, watching Reginald's faint movements. "When you say 'destabilizing,' do you mean he just collapses, or just loses form or…."
"All of the above, depending on how far I push him," he said. "Sometimes he just melts. Other times he spasms until I think he's going to die and stop the process."
"Poor guy." She winced sympathetically.
"technically an it," he corrected softly.
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BND / TBND / TBNDT
[ The bureaucratic national defense team ]
Power Evaluation: Jonathan "Jack" Carter
Aberrants Classification: Emitter [E], Biokinetic [B].
Generation : 5
Threat level : 12 / 1
Capability Overview:
Jonathan "Jack" Carter exhibits advanced biokinetic abilities consistent with a fifth-generation Aberrant. His primary talent lies in manipulating the biological composition of any living organisms. Unlike typical biokinetics, Jack demonstrates a remarkable capacity to generate entirely new life forms, either from his own biomass or from nearby dead organic material. The process resembles spontaneous abiogenesis, though far more rapid and directed. This ability is categorized as [E] Environmental, as its effects can influence any living organism within the immediate area. Its effective [V] Range extends roughly 3 feet, which appears to be the primary limiting factor.
Secondary Abilities:
Jack Carter has demonstrated additional traits commonly associated with biokinetics, including [R] Regeneration, [M] Shapeshifting, [H/M] Healing, and [D] Deadly Touch. At this time, none of these capabilities have been confirmed in terms of their limits, and as such, until Jonathan Carter allows us to undergo another evaluation of his capabilities, we will categorize them all as [U] Unknown until their limits, requirements, and operational conditions can be properly assessed and then filed into our database.
__________
Stacy gave him an understanding look, before returning her attention to the jar. "Alright. If he destabilizes only when you try to advance his development, that means the issue is probably structural, instead of functional." She tapped her pen against her notebook. "Think of it like… you're building a tower with wet sand. It holds for a bit, but the moment you add another layer, everything underneath change." Jack nodded slowly. "So you're saying whatever mumbo jumbo my power goes through to make the process work isn't enough to make the whole thing work?"
"Not exactly how I would phrase it, but, yeah," she leaned closer to Reginald, squinting. "You forced him into a multicellular state using your power, right?" He nodded, allowing her to continue. "But that doesn't guarantee that the cells cooperate the way they're supposed to. They don't have the same communication pathways a naturally developed organism would," she said, placing a hand on the jar. "Right…" Jack murmured, rolling his shoulders in an anxious attempt to loosen them. "So to fix that, I'd need something that helps them interface correctly? That doesn't sound too hard."
Stacy perked up. "Or an external stabilizer." She flipped to a new page, drawing quickly. "A medium that encourages cohesion and reduces stress when you push his development. Kind of like an artificial extracellular matrix." Jack blinked. "You mean… like a gel? I know another biokinetic that does that kind of thing, but not on artificial hom—creatures like Reginald."
Stacy raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in his phrasing, but didn't press. "Yeah, kind of like what jnxy does," she agreed. "We could either buy some from her and have your powers upgrade it so that they could work on Reginald, or you can simply do it right now if you know how the base structure of it works." Realizing what she said, she turned towards him, curiosity in her eyes. "Wait, do you know how her stuff works?"
As much as he wanted to gas himself up as a genius, he really didn't know much. "I know the broad strokes," he said. "jnxy uses a collagen-like matrix she generates from her own biomass. It's elastic, semi-permeable, and tuned to whatever creature she's supporting. But the microstructure? I don't know those well enough to copy them exactly." But he kind of wished he did, now that he thought about it more.
"Ok then, let's just work on what we do know and see if it works," she said, not even hiding her excitement as she took the jar and gave it to him with a wide smile before stepping back. "Alright," he muttered, rubbing his palms together as he moved the lamp closer to the jar. "Let's see what we can do." He really wasn't confident in what he was about to do, but it was the only way to see if he could finally get some progress on his little pet project and then hopefully get paid for his work by selling off the thing.
"Start small," she advised. "Just enough to change the environment around him. Don't mess with his actual body yet." Right. That part was easy enough to agree with. He cupped his hands around the jar and allowed his breathing to slow, the stir of the flux within him flaring to life as a warm pressure pooled in his palms.
The biological, chemical, and physical composition of the creature appeared in his eyes, and Jack hissed, his attention immediately focused forward towards Reginald's glass container, the world around him dimming, and for a moment, all he could sense was the jar, the liquid, and the tiny, half-formed being suspended inside.
Still, despite his attention being focused elsewhere, he didn't miss the excited, girlish squeal of his friend before she finally pulled herself back together and continued to watch the show in amazement, or at least he hoped. He didn't have much that he could think of to enhance the quality of the water, but because it was made out of biogel, it was significantly easier to enhance as a result.
So he reached out with his flux, encouraging it to add to the healing property of the gel while also thickening its consistency to match the conditions that he wanted. And it worked. Like magic, the gel's blue liquid became a slightly tinted green, and even better was the reaction from Reginald, or well, lack thereof really.
Stacy leaned in from beside his shoulder, giving the jar a quizzical look. "I have no idea what's happening, but it looks cool as fuck," she whispered, her grin stretching wide as the gel slowly settled into its new hue.
She kind of looked like the Cheshire cat, and for a moment, he wondered if that was her mutation showing or if it was just his eyes messing with him, but he definitely saw it. Still, though, to be polite he decided not to ask, instead choosing to focus on the problem at hand, notably being Reginald.
The said creature didn't even move a muscle, but its eyes were open, which was good. "I didn't ask before because it was not important to our talk, but why are you making Reginald, anyway?"
It was a sudden question, but it wasn't anything that he didn't expect. "Money mostly. I can't tell you more than that since I'm being paid for this and I'm under a contract, but yeah," he said, scratching his head.
"It's not a bio weapon, right?"
"…No," he said firmly. "It's not a weapon. Nothing like that. I mean, look at him." He tilted the jar slightly so Reginald's tiny, sluggish form drifted into view. "He barely has a nervous system. The most he could do right now is… wiggle. Aggressively, and probably bite you a little with his teeth." Stacy side-eyed him. "Plenty of weapons wiggle, Jack." He groaned. "Stacy."
She held up both hands. "Okay, okay. I'm joking. Mostly. But if someone's paying you to make a tiny biological… something, and it's secret, and you can't tell me who—"
"It's not a shady organization," he said quickly.
"I'm sure it isn't." Stacy replied with a roll of her eyes.
"Look," she sighed, shifting her weight and crossing her arms. "I'm not trying to pry. I just… care, ok? And this?" She gestured at the jar, at Reginald floating in his newly-tinted gel. "I don't know who wanted this from you, but I can't imagine what will happen to that thing when it gets into the hands of whoever it was that you're selling it to. So, if you're in over your head, you can tell me. I can handle it, I promise."
Maybe in a different life, if things weren't all so messed up for him, she could have actually been someone meaningful to him, and he could have opened up honestly about everything he did. But that wasn't their lives at the moment, or ever. Instead, he looked down at Reginald, whose dark tinted color began to take on a much lighter sheen. "I'm not in danger," he said. It was a lie, but his favorite, so it came out easily for him to say. "It's just… complicated. You know how my situation is, I need the money."
"So become a doctor, or join the BND, or literally anything that pays without making you… this." Stacy gestured vaguely at the jar, at him, at the whole apartment. "I know the department has done some pretty terrible things in the past, but still, you can make it something else or at least live with the conscience of doing the right thing by actually contributing to something more than both of us could accomplish."
A touch of anger tugged at his mind for a moment, and although he did a spectacular job of hiding it, he shut his eyes to prevent the hate from showing between them before he averted his face from her. "Can we just not talk about this?" He didn't mean for that to sound sharp, but the way she flinched and averted her eyes guiltily from him wasn't the complete reaction that he was expecting, but still, though, it was preferable to the alternative, which was good.
"Yeah.." she said quietly. "I didn't-"
"Don't." Stacy's mouth closed on whatever apology she'd been about to give, her shoulders tight, her eyes moving down to somewhere near her shoes. The silence that filled the room was oddly cathartic, and they remained like that for a while until he finally decided to break the barrier and get to the main reason as to why he invited her to begin with. "Let's… just focus on Reginald," he said, softer this time. It wasn't an apology, but close enough that Stacy's posture eased a hair.
After all, she did poke the bear, so his reaction was only reasonable. "Right," she murmured. She stepped up beside him again, giving him a cautious glance before turning her attention to the jar. "So… the gel's holding, and his skin looks a little different. That's good, right?"
"Yeah" he confirmed.
Stacy tapped gently on the glass. "If he stays stable for another few minutes, we can try stress-testing the environment. Very mild, nothing internal to him yet."
"…You good with that?" She looked somewhat sad, and her eyes were a bit red, as if she was about to cry.
He wanted to be mad about that but couldn't bring himself to say anything regarding it, considering that Stacy really did just want to help him, even though she was being very insensitive about it. Regardless, it was not good for them to be around one another right now.
"Yep, but I think it's best if we call it off for today." It was the right move; the situation had quickly gotten awkward, and her attempts to indoctrinate him had only soured his mood. Being around that wasn't healthy for anybody involved, especially when they were working on such a high-priority project like Reginald.
Well, "high priority project" was selling it a bit high, but still, she needed to leave. Stacy nodded, hugging her notebook to her chest, her eyes looking a little red as she moved toward the door, giving Reginald a last-minute glance before pausing at the door. She didn't turn to meet his expression, only telling him her unfinished apology before heading out, not even asking him to take her home in case she got lost.
Reginald drifted lazily in the gel, utterly unbothered by the emotional debris around him. Hopefully, word of what had happened didn't get out to anyone at school. At the very least, they had managed to get something done, which was better than nothing, he supposed. Setting the jar back on the table, he slumped into his chair, taking a Circuit Ash out of his pocket and taking a long drag from it to relieve his mind for just a bit.
It was terrible for his body, but the electrical buzz and quick soothing comfort that it provided were exactly what he needed at that moment. Letting the smoke sit on his tongue for a moment, he exhaled, the haze drifting out into the cold air, the bitter scent mixing with the industrial stink of the city beyond his window.
"Fuck," he muttered, rubbing his thumb along the metal case of the Circuit Ash. "Should have hired that tinkerer after all," he said, his vision blurred slightly at the edges as the drug kicked in, his body sinking further into the chair as he was pulled from the waking world into the dreamscape of his self-created delusions.
Tomorrow, hopefully something would change.