Post by Victor Fries on Sept 27, 2020 1:42:26 GMT -7
Whether through simple luck or through some visceral sense of self-preservation Victor suddenly regained consciousness. Something that he wasn't immediately grateful for because it felt as if his entire head was nothing but pain - so much so that for a moment he couldn't remember the reason. He opened his eyes but that was a mistake because the garbled haze of his vision at the moment was more confusing than helpful.
It was only when he noticed the loud ringing in his ears that he remembered what had happened. Boyle's announcement that Nora would be moved to the vault, the argument. An argument that had quickly gotten so heated that it threatened to get violent. Still, he'd been surprised when Boyle pulled out a gun. And then... He couldn't remember anything after that.
He wasn't sure if the pounding of his head was getting better or if he was simply getting used to it, but this time when he opened his eyes to look for answers they actually managed to focus somewhat. He was still seeing double, but because he was in a very familiar place that was sufficient - the cryogenics lab at GothCorp. The first thing he saw was the empty place where Nora's chamber had been. "Nora!" he said almost reflexively, though he had the odd sensation of not being able to hear his own words. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears.
His eyes drifted further, quickly looking for more information. He was laying on the floor of the lab, and Nora's absence was not the only obvious difference to his workspace. The other was that the lab was a complete and total mess, all the equipment that wasn't large or bolted down in the immediate radius of a large pipe on the wall. A pipe that now had a very large, gaping hole in it from an explosion. He wasn't far from it himself, so he quickly gathered that this was how he'd ended up on the floor with nothing but ringing in his ears and a pounding headache.
How had that happened? With some effort, he could recall that it had looked like Boyle was going to fire his gun - did he or didn't he? He couldn't remember but he gathered as much because the pipe had been behind him at that moment - the most plausible theory was that a shot had been taken but missed and hit the pipe. He didn't know what that particular pipe was for but based on the state of everything he was probably lucky to be relatively uninjured. Or at least he felt like he was uninjured - it was somewhat difficult to be sure because it had certainly done a number on his major senses.
And even beyond the pain of the headache and the ringing in his ears, he felt absolutely terrible in a way he couldn't immediately pinpoint - as if the whole world felt oppressive somehow. Though at first that seemed to be of secondary importance, as what caused him to pull himself off of the ground was when his eyes drifted back to the empty place where Nora had been - he needed to find her! But when he managed to get to his feet only with difficulty and he felt just how unsteady he was he realized that just because his limbs were intact that didn't mean that he wasn't in a bit of a sorry state. And why did he feel so hot?
Because, he suddenly realized, the pounding of his head wasn't merely because of the explosion, he also felt like he was in a sauna. He was having difficulty breathing and he was having difficulty concentrating. Though he recognized that it made no sense for him to feel so hot, he figured that his body was having some sort of a reaction to the trauma of the explosion. Among the haze of his mind he didn't know if it would be good for him to be colder or not while he was in this state, but the cryogenics lab had cold rooms for their experiments so that was something very easy to accomplish and because he knew he would certainly feel better whether that was the right medical thing to do or not he very quickly couldn't resist the temptation to try it. It just felt so hot!
He staggered into one of the cold rooms and set it to a nice, brisk temperature somewhere between room temperature and freezing. He immediately began to feel a little better, but only so much, so he let his hand rest on the temperature controls without really looking at the numbers on the panel - just a little bit colder. Though he wasn't sure how long it took, bit by bit he began to feel better - his headache weakened a bit, his thoughts became more clear, his breaths became easier, and though there wasn't much to hear either way he thought that he might actually be able to hear a few things besides the ringing of his ears.
Once the feeling that he was possibly dying began to ease, his thoughts went right back to Nora. Boyle had said that he was taking her to the vault - she should be safe there, for the moment at least, but he couldn't allow Boyle to keep her there. Their argument rang through his ears, the man claiming that Nora was legally dead, and that being the case Victor's only rights in that situation was to claim her body as her husband. He did not, however, have a right to the chamber - if he wanted to take him to court, all that Victor would get was the right to remove her from the chamber, which would mean that she would be irretrievably dead. And if Victor wasn't willing to do that, well, that effectively meant that Boyle owned her now and could do whatever he wished with her.
All that Victor knew at that point was that whether or not the law was on Boyle's side, he couldn't let Nora remain in his hands. It wasn't simply a matter of principle of the thing that she was not his property, he knew the man well enough to know that her wellbeing was not nearly as important to him as making money. Whatever the eventual outcome would be, it wouldn't be good.
Though even as he contemplated that and felt his anger rise, he noticed something that actually distracted him from those thoughts for a moment - his vision had cleared, so while he may have chalked up any visual oddities to a malfunctioning mind before, now when his eyes happened to rest upon his hand he was startled to see the stark white color of the flesh on the back of his hand. What? He looked, and it wasn't just the back but the front, and also the other hand... He pulled up the long sleeve of his shirt - all of it white. Then he realized that the bit of his nose and cheeks just within his vision were also the same color.
Even as he was still processing this fact, he noticed something else: though he wasn't exactly a hairy man, the small bit of hair he had on his arms had rubbed off on his sleeve when he'd pulled it up. He touched more of it to see - yes, it was all easily falling off. Naturally, after a few moments of thinking about this his hand went to the short hair on his head, and even the lightest pull just to check it resulted in a huge clump of his hair falling off into his hand. What was going on? It was quickly dawning on him that some sort of a change had happened to his flesh. The explosion? He wasn't sure how, but he certainly wasn't like this before!
He had a sudden, desperate urge to find a mirror, the closest probably being in the bathroom outside of the lab, but as he took a step toward the door his eyes fell on the temperature controls of the room. Though his thoughts had been hazy at the time, he remembered simply turning down the temperature until he felt comfortable - slowly, because he knew it would take time for the temperature to adjust, and in fact he'd ended up having to turn it back up a little because he'd made it just a little too cold. He'd thought the room had ended up at something near room temperature, but he couldn't have been more wrong - the display clearly read -30°F/-34°C. What? That had to be wrong! There was no way he could possibly be standing in a room that cold and feel comfortable!
He experimentally put his hand on the glass window of the room, which allowed the inside of it to be viewed from the lab itself and vice versa. Normally on the other side of it, he knew that the thick, thermal glass did a very good job of insulating the room. He'd happened to touch it many times during experiments, feeling some of the deep cold within but not enough of it to come to any harm. This time as he rested his hand against the window he felt the heat radiating through it as if the world outside of this room was an oven.
For several long moments he stood there, feeling the heat, looking at the temperature gauge and the color of his skin - it took some time for him to simply accept what he was seeing and feeling and all that it meant. And was this some terrible dream or was it real? But he was a scientist, accustomed to accepting facts when they were clearly laid before him even if they went against everything he wanted them to be.
Though the moment that he accepted the reality of the situation, his thoughts went again back to Nora - how was he going to save her from Boyle if he was like this? He didn't even know how it happened, so he certainly didn't know how to fix it or how long it would last.
But... He remembered the special insulating suits that they wore when they needed to physically go into a cold room. Similar to how a thermos could not only keep hot drinks hot but also cold drinks cold simply through the proper use of insulation, it seemed within the realm of possibility that he could quickly adapt one to keep him cold in a hot room instead. Very primitive, but it would work well enough for hopefully long enough for him to come up with a better solution. He certainly couldn't help Nora while he was shut up in this room in any event, so he got to work.
Those were not the only thoughts buzzing through his head at that moment, but with a task to focus on it was easier for him to ride the waves of emotion that threatened to consume him. He wasn't sure if he was more angry or frightened or simply freaked out, but by the time it was finished his dominant emotion was determination - he would rescue Nora, no matter what got in his way, no matter what it took, or he would die trying.
It was only when he noticed the loud ringing in his ears that he remembered what had happened. Boyle's announcement that Nora would be moved to the vault, the argument. An argument that had quickly gotten so heated that it threatened to get violent. Still, he'd been surprised when Boyle pulled out a gun. And then... He couldn't remember anything after that.
He wasn't sure if the pounding of his head was getting better or if he was simply getting used to it, but this time when he opened his eyes to look for answers they actually managed to focus somewhat. He was still seeing double, but because he was in a very familiar place that was sufficient - the cryogenics lab at GothCorp. The first thing he saw was the empty place where Nora's chamber had been. "Nora!" he said almost reflexively, though he had the odd sensation of not being able to hear his own words. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears.
His eyes drifted further, quickly looking for more information. He was laying on the floor of the lab, and Nora's absence was not the only obvious difference to his workspace. The other was that the lab was a complete and total mess, all the equipment that wasn't large or bolted down in the immediate radius of a large pipe on the wall. A pipe that now had a very large, gaping hole in it from an explosion. He wasn't far from it himself, so he quickly gathered that this was how he'd ended up on the floor with nothing but ringing in his ears and a pounding headache.
How had that happened? With some effort, he could recall that it had looked like Boyle was going to fire his gun - did he or didn't he? He couldn't remember but he gathered as much because the pipe had been behind him at that moment - the most plausible theory was that a shot had been taken but missed and hit the pipe. He didn't know what that particular pipe was for but based on the state of everything he was probably lucky to be relatively uninjured. Or at least he felt like he was uninjured - it was somewhat difficult to be sure because it had certainly done a number on his major senses.
And even beyond the pain of the headache and the ringing in his ears, he felt absolutely terrible in a way he couldn't immediately pinpoint - as if the whole world felt oppressive somehow. Though at first that seemed to be of secondary importance, as what caused him to pull himself off of the ground was when his eyes drifted back to the empty place where Nora had been - he needed to find her! But when he managed to get to his feet only with difficulty and he felt just how unsteady he was he realized that just because his limbs were intact that didn't mean that he wasn't in a bit of a sorry state. And why did he feel so hot?
Because, he suddenly realized, the pounding of his head wasn't merely because of the explosion, he also felt like he was in a sauna. He was having difficulty breathing and he was having difficulty concentrating. Though he recognized that it made no sense for him to feel so hot, he figured that his body was having some sort of a reaction to the trauma of the explosion. Among the haze of his mind he didn't know if it would be good for him to be colder or not while he was in this state, but the cryogenics lab had cold rooms for their experiments so that was something very easy to accomplish and because he knew he would certainly feel better whether that was the right medical thing to do or not he very quickly couldn't resist the temptation to try it. It just felt so hot!
He staggered into one of the cold rooms and set it to a nice, brisk temperature somewhere between room temperature and freezing. He immediately began to feel a little better, but only so much, so he let his hand rest on the temperature controls without really looking at the numbers on the panel - just a little bit colder. Though he wasn't sure how long it took, bit by bit he began to feel better - his headache weakened a bit, his thoughts became more clear, his breaths became easier, and though there wasn't much to hear either way he thought that he might actually be able to hear a few things besides the ringing of his ears.
Once the feeling that he was possibly dying began to ease, his thoughts went right back to Nora. Boyle had said that he was taking her to the vault - she should be safe there, for the moment at least, but he couldn't allow Boyle to keep her there. Their argument rang through his ears, the man claiming that Nora was legally dead, and that being the case Victor's only rights in that situation was to claim her body as her husband. He did not, however, have a right to the chamber - if he wanted to take him to court, all that Victor would get was the right to remove her from the chamber, which would mean that she would be irretrievably dead. And if Victor wasn't willing to do that, well, that effectively meant that Boyle owned her now and could do whatever he wished with her.
All that Victor knew at that point was that whether or not the law was on Boyle's side, he couldn't let Nora remain in his hands. It wasn't simply a matter of principle of the thing that she was not his property, he knew the man well enough to know that her wellbeing was not nearly as important to him as making money. Whatever the eventual outcome would be, it wouldn't be good.
Though even as he contemplated that and felt his anger rise, he noticed something that actually distracted him from those thoughts for a moment - his vision had cleared, so while he may have chalked up any visual oddities to a malfunctioning mind before, now when his eyes happened to rest upon his hand he was startled to see the stark white color of the flesh on the back of his hand. What? He looked, and it wasn't just the back but the front, and also the other hand... He pulled up the long sleeve of his shirt - all of it white. Then he realized that the bit of his nose and cheeks just within his vision were also the same color.
Even as he was still processing this fact, he noticed something else: though he wasn't exactly a hairy man, the small bit of hair he had on his arms had rubbed off on his sleeve when he'd pulled it up. He touched more of it to see - yes, it was all easily falling off. Naturally, after a few moments of thinking about this his hand went to the short hair on his head, and even the lightest pull just to check it resulted in a huge clump of his hair falling off into his hand. What was going on? It was quickly dawning on him that some sort of a change had happened to his flesh. The explosion? He wasn't sure how, but he certainly wasn't like this before!
He had a sudden, desperate urge to find a mirror, the closest probably being in the bathroom outside of the lab, but as he took a step toward the door his eyes fell on the temperature controls of the room. Though his thoughts had been hazy at the time, he remembered simply turning down the temperature until he felt comfortable - slowly, because he knew it would take time for the temperature to adjust, and in fact he'd ended up having to turn it back up a little because he'd made it just a little too cold. He'd thought the room had ended up at something near room temperature, but he couldn't have been more wrong - the display clearly read -30°F/-34°C. What? That had to be wrong! There was no way he could possibly be standing in a room that cold and feel comfortable!
He experimentally put his hand on the glass window of the room, which allowed the inside of it to be viewed from the lab itself and vice versa. Normally on the other side of it, he knew that the thick, thermal glass did a very good job of insulating the room. He'd happened to touch it many times during experiments, feeling some of the deep cold within but not enough of it to come to any harm. This time as he rested his hand against the window he felt the heat radiating through it as if the world outside of this room was an oven.
For several long moments he stood there, feeling the heat, looking at the temperature gauge and the color of his skin - it took some time for him to simply accept what he was seeing and feeling and all that it meant. And was this some terrible dream or was it real? But he was a scientist, accustomed to accepting facts when they were clearly laid before him even if they went against everything he wanted them to be.
Though the moment that he accepted the reality of the situation, his thoughts went again back to Nora - how was he going to save her from Boyle if he was like this? He didn't even know how it happened, so he certainly didn't know how to fix it or how long it would last.
But... He remembered the special insulating suits that they wore when they needed to physically go into a cold room. Similar to how a thermos could not only keep hot drinks hot but also cold drinks cold simply through the proper use of insulation, it seemed within the realm of possibility that he could quickly adapt one to keep him cold in a hot room instead. Very primitive, but it would work well enough for hopefully long enough for him to come up with a better solution. He certainly couldn't help Nora while he was shut up in this room in any event, so he got to work.
Those were not the only thoughts buzzing through his head at that moment, but with a task to focus on it was easier for him to ride the waves of emotion that threatened to consume him. He wasn't sure if he was more angry or frightened or simply freaked out, but by the time it was finished his dominant emotion was determination - he would rescue Nora, no matter what got in his way, no matter what it took, or he would die trying.