Day 0001View OnlineJournals of a Transformed BiologistDay 0001That really should have hurt. I hear a voice speaking to me. In my head. Now, normally, that would be scary. But I am not normal. I suppose I should introduce myself. Doctor Jonathan Kings, biologist and minor schizophrenic. Nothing medication doesn't suppress. Medication would be good right now. That was Julius. He's my voice of reason. As usual, he makes a good point. If I can hear Julius, I need my meds. I stand up, and immediately fall back down. My god, what happened last night? Something that caused amnesia, disorientation, and medication to wear off. Thanks, Julius. I didn't know. I stand back up, wobbling a bit as I find it difficult to balance. Eyes shut, I shuffle over to feel for a wall. Since one certain incident, I've become quite adept at navigating blind. However, the first thing I encounter is rough. Bark. I must be in a forest. Damn that Crow, I know this is his doing. Not the first time he's relocated me while unconscious. I open my eyes, and look around my dark surroundings. That's when I fall back down again. Nothing to do with balance, just shock. Cartoony. The first word that comes to mind. Cartoony. The colors are bright and solid, each color a distinct difference. Every object looks two-dimensional, and even seem to have faint outlines. It looks as though I have been removed from the laboratories and placed into a cartoon forest, complete with exaggeratedly scary trees. "My god, Crow, you've outdone yourself!" I laugh out loud. Or try to. All that escapes my mouth is a dry rattle. I sit up, more quickly than I should. I try to speak again, and once more, all that emerges is a rattling hiss. It sounds as if a snake is attempting to gargle maracas. Pushing the strange image out of my mind, I spot a lake nearby. Perfect. I stand once more, and fall forward this time, landing on my hands. Oh god, my hands. Where there used to be a perfectly normal, albeit scarred, pair of hands, there now lay two claws. Each has only three fingers, with a strange number of joints on each. I lift a hand, and move muscles until the appendages twitch. I experiment for a minute or two, and get some control over my new... hands. I soon discover that the base of each digit is locked in place. However, to compensate, it seems- Water now, hands later. Right. I drag myself to the lake, and dipping my face into the water, I soon drink my fill. Damn the risks, I've already had everything you can get from lake water. I sigh in relief, and what emerges is a gurgle. I hear a gasp, and look up. What I see barely fazes me, given what's happened today. A small, four-legged creature. I would call it a horse, if not for the coloring and wings. The creature stares me down, as I lay at the lakeside. I wave, a friendly gesture, and it continues staring. How rude. As I continue to stare down the creature, I take mental notes of its features. I am a biologist, after all. The creature is a bright yellow, with a light pink... let's call it a mane. Stick with the horse comparison. I try to call out to the creature, and once more I gurgle. The creature seems transfixed, and steps closer. I remain sitting, partly to reduce my height, partly because I cannot stand. The creature- oh damn it, I'm calling it a horse. Not a word,Julius. The horse approaches me, and I do not break eye contact. I attempt to stand, and immediately slip and fall into the mud. I hear the creature approach, and I lose consciousness once again. I wake up, and keep my eyes closed, listening. I can hear the sound of hooves on a hard surface. The yellow horse. I wait for my mind to clear before I lift my head. Or try to. My neck is like a board, I can't bend it forward. I know it isn't restrained, as the pressure is in my neck, instead of the top of my head. My eyes open, and this time I hear a distinct click. The horse hears it too. I hear the hooves coming closer, and I turn my head towards the source of the sound. Your head seems to turn fine, but you aren't able to bend your neck. Take note. Oh, goody. The gang's all here. Voices aside, I look at my new surroundings. I'm laying on a green couch, with the wall to my left. On my right is a rug, a few various animal containers, and a door. Finally, a bit of luck. A fellow biologist! The horse must be modified. Perhaps they can help me! Or they could test on you. Shut it, Julius. This is my thought log. Good point, though. I shall flee at the first sign of hostility, from either this biologist or their little horse pet. Speaking of which, it's headed this way. It, like everything else so far, looks like an animation. The wings- bloody wings, why does everybody modify their pet with wings?- are folded, into no more than bumps on the horse's sides. The coat is pink, the mane is yellow, and it is bringing me something. Looks like food. I reach out, and take some, as the hooved creature shrinks away from my hand. Not that I blame it. I prop myself on my elbows, as the rest of my arms feel stiff, but otherwise normal. I smell the dry substance. Nothing. I'm not even smelling it, I'm just breathing in rapidly. I'll look into that later. I try to take a bite, but that would be far too easy. My mouth doesn't open. My jaw seems to be cemented into place. Panicking, I spot a framed mirror on a table at the other side of the sofa, and scramble to try and reach it. I fall off the couch, landing with a "clunk", and try to stand. That won't work. Clunk. I told you. I crawl over to the mirror, panic knocked out of me. I grab the mirror in my claws, and look at my own reflection. I see a mask. Or what I think is a mask, until it blinks in surprise as I do, the click audible in the newfound silence. The mask has three points, two of them horns on either side, and a flat central plate, in the shape of a teardrop. The bottom ends in a jagged line, echoed by three layered plates underneath it. That would explain why my mouth didn't open, it was locked in place. In the center of the center plate, there is a diamond shaped hole, with a shining eye hidden inside. When I say shining, I don't mean in the poetic sense. The damn thing was glowing. I shakily replace the mirror frame, and crawl back onto the couch. I close what I now know to be one eye, noting once more the click. Listening, I hear flapping. My eye slides half open, and I watch the horse fly to the floor, and quietly walk out the door. I hear a lock slide into place. My eye slides shut, and I let the subconscious take me prisoner once more.
Day 0003View OnlineJournals of a Transformed BiologistDay 0003I dream of a dark forest, filled with horrible creatures and dangerous plants. I dream of emerging from the darkness of a cave, into a single ray of sunshine. I dream of shakily taking my first steps on my newborn legs. I dream of darkness taking over my mind, and my life ending. I wake to the feeling of the sunlight on my face, slowly filling me with new energy. I open my eye, and see a quilt draped over myself, covering me from the beloved sunlight. Careful not to tear it on any of my barbs, I remove the cloth and fold it, before I place it aside. I stand shakily, and stretch, ready for the new day's challenges. Feeling confident in my balance, I chose to tackle a new challenge; walking. After a moment of thought, I elected to move my right leg first. I carefully lifted from the ground, and proceeded to completely lose stability. You will need to move faster if you want to keep balance while walking. I know, Julius. I pull myself from the ground, and stand again. This time, after lifting my front leg, I quickly place it down, slightly further that it was at first. Trying my left, I repeat the movement, and do the same with my tail, now a full two inches ahead of where I was. I take another step, my legs and tail mimicking the first successful step. I continue to practice movement, until I complete the movement more often than not. Soon, falls are rare. With the cautious pride beginning to fill me, I check the sun's position. Three hours seem to have passed, assuming time passes the same pace here as Earth. I decide that practice is done for the day, and choose to get food. Sunlight's good, but minerals and vitamins are required as well. Staggering inside, I go into the kitchen to locate a snack, ignoring the stares the animals give me as I pass. The yellow horse is nowhere to be seen. Reaching my goal, I find a basket of apples. Perfect. Grabbing three, I head back out to the courtyard. Taking one of the apples in hand- or claw, as the case may be- I briefly wonder how to eat it without use of my jaw. I take one of my hands, and hold it to my face. Looking closely at the tips of the claws, I notice small barbs on the tips of my fingers. The barbs are angled to hold things in place if stabbed into something. I decide to humor Julius by testing his "stabbing" theory. Taking an apple in claw, I plunge the ends of my fingers into the fruit. Nearly instantly, I feel something flowing through my arm. Looking at my carapace, I could see the apple juices traveling trough a system of veins just underneath the clear coating of my shell. Interesting feeding mechanism. Looking back to the apple, I see that it is shriveled and tough. Seems that I can only drain the liquid portion. I finish my snack, and continue pacing until I no longer walk like a drunk penguin, instead reducing my staggering to a drunk human. I always was a fast learner. Looking to the sky, I estimate it to be dinnertime. I walk back inside, grab an apple, and head back over to my little spot in the courtyard. I lay down by the stream, dipping a claw in and drinking my fill, before draining the apple and tossing the remains onto a small pile, along with what was left of lunch. I take my quilt from where it was folded, and try to get as comfortable as possible. Soon, I dream again. ~~~~~ Over the next few days, then stretching into weeks, I settle into a routine. Wake up, absorb sunlight, exercise, drain lunch, exercise, eat dinner, sleep. I gradually see more and more animals in the courtyard as they seem to get used to my presence. I occasionally get to see a few squirrels, or an otter, but mostly birds. I found that the bone plates on my fave can be very slightly adjusted, and air pushed through to create a whistling noise. I've gotten better at it, and can mimic a few bird calls. They seem to like me. I've been practicing my walking, so I can move at about the same speed with about the same grace as I could bipedal. Running, however, is foreign ground, as I have yet to even figure out the order in which my legs move. It seems, though, that the body I inhabit is still quite young. I have grown significantly recently. When I first arrived, unconscious, I was approximately the same height as the winged equine who brought me. Now, I stand a good six inches above her, having grown seemingly overnight. This body has an odd growth pattern. But what sticks in my head most is the winged horse. The modified creature. I've long given up hope of finding the scientist who created her, as I've seen no evidence of a human in the cottage. But what intrigues me is the intelligence. I can see it in the abnormally large eyes, in the way she seems to speak to the other animals. The language used is a foreign one, all sounds a horse would be expected to make; soft whinnies, neighs and the like. She seems to have gotten more accustomed to my presence in her home, no longer reacting negatively when I walk through a room. In fact, she seems to be trying to communicate, sometimes. I will be sitting, resting, absorbing light, and she walks to me and sits down. She seems to be trying to make small talk, using the strange, quiet equine language she uses with the animals. I look to her, and try to respond as best I can, but my vocabulary is limited to hisses, whistles and gurgles. It's like being mute, but without the ability to use facial expressions. Because of this, whenever she tries to speak to me, she leaves looking disappointed, as if she expected me to understand, like the animals do. And I wish I could. But here I am, reduced to scribbling in a journal. Oh, well.
Day 0002View OnlineJournals of a Transformed BiologistDay 0002As I woke up, I took a few moments to gather my thoughts. I recalled the sight of my face, with the nonexistent jaw and bone plating. I remember my single, luminescent eye. I began to wonder what the rest of me looked like, just based on my hands and face. Shame I couldn't look down, I had to go find a bigger mirror. I listened for the sound of anything moving, and got silence in return. I listened more carefully, and I heard the noises of something sleeping. Perfect. I slowly opened my eye, and turned to the room. Only faint light came in trough the window, and I knew it was night. I crawled off the couch, landing with a 'clunk'. You shouldn't make a 'clunk' when landing. I know, we'll figure that out later. I ignored the lingering drowsiness, and I wondered why it had yet to dissipate. Still crawling, I left the entrance room, and familiarized myself with the house. I found a kitchen, a courtyard, and a set of stairs. I decided not to risk climbing them, as I had yet to master walking. Soon, I found an empty bedroom with a full length mirror. After crawling my way to it, I adjusted it so I could look at myself fully. I saw a carapace covering my whole body, what little light there was from the window dully reflected. I looked at my legs, oddly jointed, each ending in a clawed tip. That would explain the difficulty balancing on a hard floor. The soft ground in the forest allowed you to dig in the claws. I looked to my arms, and I saw that the shell covered them as well. Small barbs came from the forearms, each individual thorn seeming to have its own small joint. I turn over to look at my back, and I see a tail. It seems to be jointed the same as the legs, ending in the same clawed tip. You seem to be designed for moving tripedal. I know, Julius. I decided to put my new legs to the test. I tested muscles, until I saw the tail move. With some more testing, I extend it, and I shakily stood up, not taking my eye from the mirror. As soon as I did so, I fell back down. The muscles have never been used. They are severely atrophied. I stood up again, and this time used a nearby side table for balance. As weak as I was, I stood for a few moments before I collapsed again. I felt suddenly fatigued, as the existing drowsiness was combined with my underdeveloped structure. I lay down on the floor, and I blacked out. ~~~~~~~~~~ I awoke to the feeling of light on my carapace. I opened my eye again, and I was momentarily blinded by a bright yellow glow. The sun. I realized how good it felt on my chitin, and decided I needed more. I called up my mental map of the house, and remembered the courtyard. Perfect. I stood up for a moment, but decided it would be better to crawl, in order to save my strength. As I navigated to the door outside, I saw the yellow horse feeding several smaller animals. Oddly enough, they all seemed to have been intelligent. I didn't bother myself with it at the time. I was focused on the sunlight. In hindsight, my fascination with the sun seemed rather odd to, say, someone reading a journal entry without any form of context. But at the time I was too focused to care. As I passed by the animals, they all stopped and watched me. I suppose it would have been odd to see a three legged... bug... thing, crawling across the ground. But then, light was all that mattered. As I reached the courtyard door, I pushed on it to reach for the handle, and promptly fell through. But I didn't care. I had sunlight. As the rays warmed my shell, I felt energy run through me, sweeping away the fog of drowsiness. I pulled myself into the center of the lawn, so my whole body could share the joy that was light. After the joy of the sunlight faded, I found my mind clearing. Thinking of what I had just done, I sat upright, propped on my hands. I wondered what it was that had gotten me so excited about sunshine. Bringing a hand to my face, I saw my shell clearly for the first time. In the bright sunlight, I could see the coloring of my chitin; a dark green, the color seeming to flow through the shell. Chloroplasts. You must be at least partially photosynthetic. I knew that it wouldn't be enough, though. Plants got their energy from the sun, but I needed more sustenance if I wanted movement. I decided to ignore food for the moment, electing instead to lay in the courtyard for several hours, simply soaking up what energy I could, moving when the shadows did. When I felt I had enough energy to keep myself going, I decided to continue to practice my walking. Standing shakily on my weak legs, I used my tail with them to compensate for their instability. I felt my legs buckle, and I collapsed onto the grass. Looking around, I saw the yellow horse watching me through a window, seemingly unsure what to do. Turning away, I repeated the exercise, until my legs were sore and the sun was setting. I lay down on the grass, and I felt the cold night air settle over me. As my mind fogged over, my last memory was of the winged horse emerging into the courtyard, and covering me with a quilt. And the dreams took me once more.