ORIGIN - For Science!

Doctor stared down at the latest row of rats.

They were getting harder to catch, now, in Canis; even tricking them to come to bait (remnants of their former brethren, in fact) was difficult. And in any case, he wasn't too certain about his sample size.

They were all rats. These had succumbed to sepsis within days. It seemed that a comorbid fungal infection greatly increased rates, not to mention speed, of fatality from bacterial infections. But would a Greater Gembound react the same way?

"Their magics are different," he muttered to himself, hopping up and picking the first rat from the line, flipping it with his talons, inspecting it with his single eye. "If the bacteria feeds on that, it may well speed up--but if it fights it? No, that will not work."

What he needed were better test subjects. More of them, and varied. Occasionally his mind went to the multiple children these Sentinels had created: if they were injured, sickened, how would he know what to do? Surely it would be useful to create a second batch--one for testing?

"HEMLOCKE?" he called, and hopped down, spreading his ten-foot wingspan to soar down to ground level. He landed in a small puff of sand, and folded his wings, looking around.

"Hemlocke? Are you here?" His dark beak clicked hopefully, and he waddled along the tunnel, peering into its cracks and crevices--hoping the strange little creature would appear.

@Hemlocke

It was times like this where it wished Desert was around.

The initiates were constantly antsy, looking for something to keep their paws busy and prove their worth in small ways before the advent of their adulthood. Hemlocke was close to running out of meaningless tasks to give them. Alpha and Beta'd both already been little (read: massive) overachievers and carved out a fairly large room in the warren for the initiates of now and the future. The little ones were just addled with a constant need to be doing something and getting up to mischief when they weren't doing something.

Presently, Hemlocke was lecturing Alpha on something to do with the Lessers in Hydra and how, even if one is large and armored, they shouldn't be attacked for the hell of it. All it got were a few acknowledging nods and grunts of understanding. The garnet knew that was the best it was going to get, so it dismissed Alpha when its name was called.

Big, satellite-dish ears turned towards Doctor first, before the rest of it did. It looked briefly to the Orthoclase as it stomped away, knowing better than to eavesdrop on important conversation. Once the Vargas-spawn was out of earshot (or once Hemlocke found that it didn't really care whether or not it was heard, because Alpha knew better than to question anything that got thrown its way) it chirped dismissively, "always."

It put on a good-natured air, though, straightening and adjusting the length of its tail so it curled around its paws. "Run out of rats yet, Doctor?"

@Doctor

The vulture looked up, his demeanor and tone both friendly.

"As a matter of fact, I have," he replied, taking a couple short hops around the carcasses. He half-gestured a wing-tip their way--a wholly unnatural movement, for a bird, really--and drew closer.

"Every being, every body, reacts differently to... well, everything," he began, twisting his head a little to peer brightly at Hemlocke with his one good eye. "Rats alone are... limited. There's no knowing if other creatures will react the same way to... oh, say a particular infection, or dehydration or what have you. From what I know the rest of you are much older than I am--I presume you know more about the cave?" A brief, polite pause, and the good Doctor continued.
"Optimally, it would be best, you see, to have true Gembound to study. Ahh... adults, like you and I, though I do not think they'd accept these tests willingly," he added, glancing to the rotted carcasses again.

"But I was hoping that you might be able to tell me where to find--or perhaps bring back or... send your unruly children to fetch?--other types of Lessers--prey. But I would also like to ask if there's any possibility of... well." He shifted his wings across his back, uncertain as to how Hemlocke might take this: "If your group has enemies, prisoners, they could be of use to my studies. Or, barring that, perhaps it would be possible to create a separate line, just for testing?"

He imagined it, the possibilities: a separate test bank of Greater Gembound, proper studies with large control groups, the rapid advancement of true science.

Progress.

"My goal is a standardized body of medical knowledge. We are still woefully lacking in that, and rats... rats alone simply won't be enough."

@Hemlocke

Somehow, the rat carcasses were missed by its bug-eyed gaze (likely due to them being rather head-on.) Hemlocke turned its head slightly sideways, not even bothering to hide its grimace. "I dearly hope you've been keeping them cleaned up," it grumbled, eyeing a particular one for its advanced state of decay and the pulsing black sludge oozing out. What if one of the initiates ate that? The orthoclase certainly would. Hemlocke wasn't kidding itself, though; Alpha could probably survive that.

Regardless, Doctor was making a fairly reasonable request - at least, that was it was thinking he was building up to. The Champions (and Vargas) were certainly older than the rest, but... "infection and dehydration's a pretty shitty hand for any living thing to deal with, no matter what they are. An Eyehook with an open wound'll die within days." That much was clear. "We've never cared about what happens, though - not past whether or not you'll live," Hemlocke shrugged dismissively (because, of course, none of that mattered enough to consider the morals,) "that was all training entailed before we entered the Trials."

Most of what any of them knew was street smarts. Funding for education was pretty lax, back then... and yet, it still looked generous by today's standards.

Doctor'd been tasked with bumps and scrapes up until now, but now he suggested full experimentation - deliberate bone-breaking and cruel enduring of infection. To that, Hemlocke slipped easily into a cool, clinical state, into the prompt and clipped nature it directed towards whatever duties it had as its Overseer's Eye. It may be a tiny alien that fled from its own rebellious ideation that perhaps they weren't all just sheep to be shepherded to a slaughter, but it could shove that under a proverbial rug. Wings rustling against its sides, it stated blandly, "treat them like Lessers and they'll begin to believe it - that, or mislead them."

There was no cave board of ethics to stop the good doctor from committing crimes against all of Gemboundkind. Hemlocke wasn't going to be the one to get in the way of progress because scruples blundered into its conscious. It did not feel, only subjected itself to this routine and was a mere gear in this great machine, just as Doctor was.

"Desert Rose wouldn't allow the Sentinels have any bad relations with other gatherings across the caves," Hemlocke ground out with no small amount of disdain, "so we've no prisoners." Its tail flicked, and it arched upwards in a stretch. Standing now, it scampered onto a rock so it was closer to eye-level, "I can send the initiates out to capture different Lessers" that would be an excellent training exercise "for your studies, but none from Hydra - and any full-grown Greater is too much of a risk to take on. You would have to raise any of the children on your own." Doctor didn't seem like a fellow that'd mind that.

As for the separate line for medical testing... "you'll have to ask Vargas about that. Us repro-- no, bad word. creating the intiates was just to jumpstart design production again. Overseers and higher have the authority on that." Hemlocke felt it was a waste, regardless - unless they just canvassed the caves for Gembound preparing to copulate - or whatever it was that they do - and steal charged gemstones before they were planted. That may be enough of a loophole, and require less strain than outright creating life on their own.

It'd bring more designs into the pool, too.

Hmm.

@Doctor

"Yes, prisoners would be dangerous, hm?" Doctor looked over the remaining rats idly, thoughtfully (and he usually disposed of them elsewhere, lobbing them loosely into Canis or the entrance into Hydra, though often they disintegrated into nothing before he could).

"I wonder, would it be worth making a... caste, for experiments alone? If you think they would, as you say, adapt if they were told to. It might work well. Meanwhile! If you could bring little ones here. Ahh. Lessers. Good. That would be good." He turned, fixing that one eye on Hemlocke and peering at him, curiously.

"Your Desert Rose--he brought me here to serve as Doctor. But I wonder, now: your... ahh, culture, is much different than I'd thought. There was no place for a doctor, then, in your old ways? You lived or you died?"

Doctor thought about this, for a moment.

"Why, I would wonder--but is pursuit of perfection needing a reason? No, I think not. So! What of finding those who can... tolerate mending, better? That is closer to perfection, yes? Those who can rebound! Survive the broken bones and come back, with Doctor's help."

He puffed his feathers out, a little, proud of this idea. Near-super-soldiers, like those Vargas seemed to be trying to create, were one thing; but they had never tried to work toward resilience before? Bar natural resilience; they'd never looked for those who could make the most of a little bit of healing, and be good as new?

A real super-soldier would be just that, Doctor decided--though he was getting a little distracted, here, from his goals.

@Hemlocke

"It doesn't take long for something to break," Hemlocke dismissed once again. A broken tool could be fixed and changed into a whole new - perhaps more useful - shape.

"You'll have to ask Vargas - but you could suggest gathering breeding stock," it offered, "penned creatures specifically for the purpose of making this... stock. The Overseer may not want to waste proven designs on something so -" It thought for a second, gaze averting, "expendable." The alien didn't want to imply that Doctor's studies were a waste of time, but that what he sought was expendable Gembound that might die at any turn. Hemlocke doubled on its own thinking, a niggling reminder of you are expendable, useless, worthless surging through.

It fixed its gaze on the good doctor once more, half-nodding. Ruby-red eyes peered deeper into the makeshift medical ward, prodding, "is there a pen or anything of the sort in here?" Absolutely no one would want those Lessers from the tunnels just running willy-nilly in this office. Damn scavengers nearly clipped it out of the sky once.

"There was no place for a doctor, then, in your old ways? You lived or you died?"

"The Champions weren't allowed much further past the end of this tunnel in those cycles," Hemlocke admitted, gesturing with a lifted head towards the chrysalis-laden entrance to Hydra, "so I wouldn't know if doctors were common. We were made to be tests for later designs, and nothing more. These are just... strange circumstances. They may've run me until I died or-- were the Trials not - halted." There were words clearly hidden, held out of Doctor's reach. "If something succumbs to illness or a broken limb, there's no point to wasting time healing it."

Yet, - "higher up, with perfected designs, doctors may have been a thing for extreme circumstances. I don't know." Perhaps the Overseer - and the Masters or that Valkornal - might be the only ones that could answer to whether or not standardized medicine even existed.

@Doctor

"Interesting." The vulture considered. "I'd imagine in modern times, others might be... might find more use, for medicine. Still, it is advancement; knowledge. Who knows what we might find?" Bright enthusiasm shone in that single, dark eye.

Doctor then glanced around.

"No--I have no pen. Generally I simply break the rats' spines. Then they hardly feel a thing! And will not run," he added. Moral, and logical. Certainly they still feared--he imagined they were terrified--but it was, all in all, the price they'd have to pay.

"Ahh, well. I will look into making a pen! If you find opportunity for more subjects, please. Let me know."

The good Doctor dipped his feathered head in a low bow, and then hopped up to his research area, looking over the ledge. He was trying to imagine how he could create some kind of containment system, here--restraints, or cages... Exactly how would that all work?

@Hemlocke

"If the failures aren't executed by Hydra or our Overseer, I'm sure you'll find use for them," Hemlocke said dryly, and fretted internally, I hope none of them fail. They're promising and - I - I... The tiny alien stiffened. Stop. Two of them are just hunks of that garnet you're holding onto. Nothing special. Nothing significant. No relationship was shared between them - especially not of a familial, sentimental sort.

Wings rolled at the shoulder, spreading - it hoped - the loosening through its entire body. "I'm sure you'll find a new torture method, at the very least," it chirped, eyeing the rats with a twinge of pity. Having been dismembered a few times and had its spine at least fractured, Hemlocke grimaced at the thought of that being considered humane. Lessers were just a food supply, anyways.

The good doctor was scuffling off, and Hemlocke figured that was the end of this conversation. "I'll keep you updated," it called after him, and turned to leave and work again at quelling those pesky thoughts.

;exit unless stopped?
@Doctor

Doctor, at last, looked taken aback. He blinked (sort of) and drew his head away, peering at Hemlocke.

"Torture-?" he repeated, and he sounded rather shocked. "I hope that isn't what you intend, or expect me to research. I am doing this for healing," he repeated, and he sounded almost hurt; he turned and gestured a clawed foot to the rats.

"Their spines are broken quite high up. They can't feel a thing," he insisted (and hoped that it were true). That said, sometimes--when gauging pain was necessary--he didn't do that; but this was for a greater good.

Doctor lingered quietly, looking rather downtrodden, as if he now feared that this was how Hemlocke saw him. A torturer-? He was a healer, nothing more. Though... looking at the rats, it might be hard to believe that now.

Results, however, would speak for themselves; but that didn't mean he had any desire to be seen as some sort of monster.

(exiting is fine!?! @Hemlocke )