[Open] Love, Blood, and Rhetoric

[hellonspectacles]

Who: Palamedes Sextus and you!
What: Blood science!!
When: Early February
Where: The infirmary, or anywhere you feel like finding Pal
Warnings: As you might have guessed, there's blood.



[I. He Blinded Me With Science]

For months now, anyone who enters the Serena Eterna infirmary would have noticed the set of test tubes and petri dishes lined up in one corner of the room’s counter, and labeled with a large note:

Property of Palamedes Sextus, Room 105. DO NOT TOUCH. I will know if you do.

The test tubes each contain a sample of blood taken from a ship-board volunteer: young and old, human and non-human, alive and dead. The petri dishes are for his various experiments. Once upon a time, his question had been simple, or so he thought: could you tell if someone had died, either on the ship or before arriving, by studying their blood chemistry? But like so many matters about, things have gotten much more complicated since those early days.

And they are about to get more complicated still.

Pal spends most Saturday afternoons in his makeshift lab, and today is no exception. Back in January, he had started an experiment regarding the rate of cell decay. Everyone knew that the food on the ship didn’t rot. Everyone knew that people who died returned to life—usually. But what happened to the living on a cellular level? And could that affect be manipulated to guarantee resurrection upon death?

Humming tunelessly to himself, Palamedes inspects each sample in the petri dish, visions of cell clusters dancing in his head. Each time, he notes the thanergy and thalergy levels. Each time, he counts the number of living blood cells. He double-checks the numbers, triple-checks them, quadruple-checks them.

There’s no getting around it: after a month, absolutely no cell death has occurred.

Pal takes his handkerchief from his pocket and wipes a sheen of blood sweat off his forehead.

“Well, fuck me.”

[II. Wildcard!]

Want to hang with Pal, but don’t have a reason to visit him in the infirmary? I welcome your prompts! Pal is often in the library or drinking tea in Sand Dollars, or curled up in a chair in the lounge. Gimme what you got, or hmu on Plurk

Comments

[hellonspectacles]

“I’m far from an expert, but I have a moderate level of knowledge,” Palamedes answers. “Though I have to confess, even then, I’m mostly familiar with necromantic genetics. And we necromancers are, at heart, genetic anomalies held together with proverbial string.” He watches Peter intently, his interest clearly piqued. “Why?”

[be_seeing_you]

"Genetic anomalies..." what an ironic turn of phrase. "That may be an advantage. Are you familiar with Ava Starr? Her molecular makeup is unstable. While she is here, the Captain's magic keeps her whole. But, if she were to leave his influence, her condition will become fatal."

[hellonspectacles]

“Ava Starr and I are two of the few passengers left who have been here since nearly the beginning of this voyage. We know each other. She thinks I’m a mad scientist.” He flashes a wry grin, all teeth. It’s gone quickly enough, though, as he turns serious. “I see. That is, unless an alternative treatment can be found.”

[be_seeing_you]

"She has a history with scientists, and it has not been a kind one," he says in Ava's defense. Though, now he worries that she will not like it if Number 6 recruits this man to her aid, if she has that kind of opinion of him. Still. If he can help...?

"Precisely. I am seeking that alternative. Someone here must know a way. I am not willing to leave this ship until I find it."

[hellonspectacles]

“So I gather. I’m not at all insulted, to be clear. Some scientists are absolute dicks.”

Palamedes quickly turns serious again, offering a brief nod. “I understand. And if you can convince her to let me, I shall do my best to find a solution for you.”

He doesn’t explain why he understands: that he spent his adolescence desperately trying to save the life of the girl he loved, despite everyone’s insistence that it was impossible. But there’s enough weight in his voice to make clear that he isn’t saying so lightly.

[be_seeing_you]

"Though I wouldn't use such crude language, yes, I do agree with that sentiment." He's met his share of terrible doctors and scientists.

"Thank you. I will speak to her about it. I am grateful for the offer regardless of if she will accept it."

He doesn't ask how Palamedes understands, because he doesn't need to. The weight in his voice speaks to a personal history. That's enough.

[hellonspectacles]

“I hope I can do more than offer, but thank you,” says Palamedes. He offers a faint flicker of a smile. “You know where to find me if you would like to discuss matters further.”