Beets

The Soap Factory

I didn't know which way was up or down anymore. I meant this figuratively, but maybe it was true on a literal level too, at least somewhat. Lately I'd been having massive headaches followed by fits of derealisation. I would be entirely ordinary one minute, and suddenly I would be in a strange world, with no consciousness, no history, not even aware that I had ever existed in the first place.

I had a number of theories as to why this kept happening to me, as occasional as it might be, but there were only two that I considered plausible: Firstly, and admittedly the most likely, I was going insane. One creature could only take so much harassment before losing it, right? Maybe I had been insane for a long time already. Secondly, these episodes were actually long forgotten memories, flashes from one or more of the many, lesser beings made to create me. This option was probably hopeful thinking on my part (but nowadays, what wasn't?).

Regardless of which theory, if either, was correct, the one thing I did know was that it was an absolutely terrifying experience. More so than my lack of control over it, more so than the idea of being entirely and absolutely insane, more so than the loss of my consciousness, the fact that I became nothing and that I was okay with being nothing was horrifying. I might not have been the most outspoken of men, but I wanted to live! I wanted to be free! I am not okay with drifting away into some comfortable lack of being; I am not okay with giving up. I repeated these words to myself again and again in my head, as if convincing myself that it was true. Worried at the possibility that some part of me wanted to slip off into a place where nothing was or would ever be.

I hold my breath and start counting, but a rattling on the bars stops me before I get past seven. Like clockwork, they make their rounds, and I am no exception. They stood tapping at my cage for a long minute before they prodded my tail, encouraging me to uncurl myself, to hiss or fight, but I didn't. Instead, I peeled an eye open and watched as they stood over me. In the distance I could hear quiet sobbing. My anger flared, but settled, there was nothing I could do right now. Some hopeless piece of me wondered if I was growing weak, while a resilient voice encouraged me to grab that stick, kill the guards, and break my way out of here. The woman with the spider legs was proof of
what a dumb idea that was, though, and while it might have been worth the satisfaction, I didn't think I could stand being lonely, crazy and hungry all at once. The first two were enough trouble as it was.

Once more, I quieted down my thoughts and turned my attention back to the pair of guards (who looked none too pleased at the little attention they were receiving). The usual tray of food twitched in the younger guards hand as he glared at me. Briefly, I wondered if I had missed something, but I quickly reminded myself that I didn't care. They weren't entitled to our attention, weren't entitled to controlling us or conducting experiments on us, no matter how much they thought they were. The guard with hair like salt and pepper cleared his throat, his brows knotted angrily together as he spoke in a loud voice,

"Answer the question, ORI-75-8722!" He boomed, and it made my ears ache. For an extra dose of intimidation he batted his baton against the side of my cage.

"What question?" I asked half-heartedly, a thick yawn on the brink of escaping. Not answering would practically be self harm, but I was tiered still. I was always tiered.

Despite my lackluster appearance, I flinched when the baton hit against the bars. A conditioned response. The youngest of the two chuckled in amusement, but Mr. Salt-and-pepper wasn't so easily swayed.

"O.R.I., are you asking me to repeat myself?" He inquired calmly. That always meant trouble. Quickly, I tried to retrace my steps but I had no recollection of them asking me much of anything. He took my pause as confirmation and I watched in muted horror as his face knotted in irritation -- not! At this point, pissy guards were so common that it was almost amusing. It was amusing, actually, it was the results that were none too pleasant.

"O.R.I., apologize!" The younger one chimed in. That name again, I thought, agitated. I'd never bothered to mention my real name to them, they didn't deserve to hear it. Still, I wished that I had someone to tell it to. If I kicked the bucket and was never known as anything but "O.R.I", I didn't know what I'd do. Stepping on my tail, they demanded my full attention. I quickly sat up and coiled around myself, pressing my back against the furthest wall. Much to my dismay, the cage was far too small for me to get much of a distance between myself and the violent duo. This was not new news.

"Apologize!" He shouted again, a spray of saliva taking flight as he yelled. His face was red with anger now.

"I'm sorry you can't get over yourself." I snapped, feeling rambunctious. Was it so hard to repeat a question? That had been a bad idea, my logical side reminded me. It was too late to listen to the well-intended advice however, and the guards were rapidly starting to look like a pair of overly-ripe tomatoes. What little humour I found in this observation quickly drained as my arm was grabbed and yanked harshly. Yelping, my face was slammed against the bars, but I was feeling dizzy from the tight grip on my sensitive arm. From beneath the bandages, I could feel something oozing. I had no time to regain my composure before the bowl of food was being pressed against my
face.

"You'll realise how easy of a life you've had so far, smut." He breathed threatening, smothering the gruel further against my nose. Like most days, it was already cold. Unlike most days, I bet the guards felt regretful of that fact.

Releasing my arm, the guards left after watching me fall on my ass. They might have spat on me too, I was too preoccupied nursing my wounded arm to tell the difference. I spent the next few minutes cradling it before I finally mustered the energy to wipe the food off of my face. Sticky, hurt and no closer to my freedom than I was before the whole ordeal, I wondered what on earth had gotten into me. I was in the right, though, I thought irritability. I was! But that made no difference to them. Feeling considerably more downtrodden, I went back to my usual activities of thinking and sleeping, constantly dozing in and out of contemplation.

I'd get out of here someday, I assured myself, although I made a point not to think too hard on my chances.

The Soap Factory

It completely slipped my mind earlier, but Feofan's hearing is probably better than average considering he's part rat. It's not a huge deal either way, so if you think that's too much, no worries.

Also, my computer is officially broken. For now, I'll be writing my posts on my kindle, which takes slightly longer. I should have my intro post up tomorrow night after work, if all goes as planned.

Edit: It takes so long to write things on the kindle that I keep using the same words. This is gonna' need so much editing. ;A;

The Soap Factory

Great! Is there anything I should know about posting, is there a turn order or should I just go right ahead and start? c:

TissueCube, thanks! I really liked your characters, by the way! I like your style.

The Soap Factory

Sorry that it took me a minute, my computer has been giving me a hard time all day. I had to restart about three times on three different devices, so it's a bit sloppy but here he is:

Feofan

Feofan (ORI-75-8722)

Age: Before the splicing, his human body was somewhere in its young adulthood, probably around twenty to twenty three years old. Since then it’s been about three years, so that could be considered his mental or actual age.

Gender: Male.

Sexuality: Gender-blind. Much like pansexuals, Feo doesn’t discriminate.

Species: Spliced. Feofan was supposed to be the next big military achievement: a soldier whose skin was his shield. In an attempt to create an efficient but obedient breed of fighters who could endure the front lines, researchers took a human base and essentially tried to flip it inside out. Believing that an exoskeleton could revolutionize the everyday soldier, Feo was spliced with a substantial number of insects and sea creatures with exoskeletons. On top of this, in order to ensure that their newest line of soldiers were obedient but not dumb, a rat was added to the mix. Due to their excellent problem solving skills and empathetic behaviour, rats were ideal. The researchers believed that if the soldiers were attached to each other, they would fight harder for their overall survival.

Height: 6’7”.

Hair Colour: White and grey.

Eye Colour: Grey.

Deformities: Overall, Feo is an odd and unhealthy looking creature (although definitely not as bizarre as some of the creatures out there). His human base looks as if it has been mutilated rather than improved, and the surface of his skin is very close to his bones. The attempt at an exoskeleton instead resulted in patches of exposed bone. Much of his ribs and spinal chord are visible. Despite originally having been a strong, tall human male, Feo’s height now gives him more of a ghoulish appearance when paired with the rest of him. Where his impressive muscles were previously there is now thin skin. A particularly bad spot is his right arm, where the skin deteriorated entirely. Constantly having to be secured in the cleanest of bandages, a mess of sensitive muscles and veins has taken over where his dominant hand used to be. Health wise, there is a serious risk of infection and it would have been wise to amputate the limb ages ago. Research wise, being able to watch a living arm without any skin performing a series of activities was somewhat useful, and so the arm stayed. Additionally, a thick, long rat tail snakes it way behind him wherever he walks, and his hands are bumpy and calloused.

Abilities:
Despite the overall failure of the experiment and his definite lack of a complete exoskeleton, Feofan’s bones are extremely sturdy. The skin around his exposed bones is tough and almost steel-like (as a result, the skin everywhere else is fragile and thin). For brief periods that are often driven by reflex, he is able to harden certain areas on his body and create an almost impenetrable layer of skin. So far, this has only happened a few times for a few seconds at best. He has no control over it thus far, but it has potential if he can figure out how to use it properly.

Feofan is able to solve problems that most would be unable to (and is extremely persistent when doing so). In high-stress situations where he’s presented with a dilemma that he’s never experienced or not entirely equipped to handle, he is not only able to come up with an unlikely solution, but can do it while calm and then improve his solution the next time around.

Weaknesses:
An obvious one in his right arm, which is entirely skinless and very prone to infection. On top of constantly needing to keep it clean and wrapped, it is his dominant hand and is extremely sensitive to pain. Even in everyday situations he has to be extremely careful with it, and it’s a definite disability when it comes to combat and other strenuous activities.

Feo’s mental state has been deteriorating in recent times. With a huge lack of interaction and mental stimulation, he is on the brink of driving himself insane. He has been experiencing occasional fits of distorted reality, which seem to be directly related to his increasing stress levels. While they only last for a few minutes, Feo has no control over himself when they happen.

Personality: Mentally, Feo’s rodent and human parts reign dominant. A naturally intellectual being, Feo spends most of his time in the Soap Factory coming up with riddles and equations and then trying to find as many different ways to solve them as possible, both for his own entertainment and in order to keep himself sane.Solving difficult problems is only one outlet for his insatiable curiosity, and if it were up to him, he would constantly be moving and experiencing new things and new worlds. Being cooped up in his container for so long has driven him to a standstill in his mental growth and has caused him to become depressed (not that anyone else would be very happy about being kept in a cage, admittedly).

More so than his appetite for knowledge, Feo’s social side rules him. Feo is extremely sensitive to the well being of others. Rats are known to be social creatures who display empathetic behavior, and Feo is even more aware of it than the real thing. He can’t bring himself to stand by and watch if someone or something is in trouble, and being deprived of interaction with other creatures for so long has caused him to become mildly unstable. Along with his cravings for company comes many frustrations and he’s become needy of conversation and physical interaction. How modest those interactions would be, though... Well, rats aren’t known for denying themselves much. He's the type to ask if someone else is alright even if injured worse himself. Overall, Feo is highly sympathetic and would make an extremely loyal companion, if he had any company...

His personality since the splicing is still very reliant on his animalistic instincts. Knowledge and company is all he needs to get by currently, and he’s still developing in a lot of ways. He spends a lot of his time sleeping because being awake and unable to do anything but sit and wait to eventually become useless and be disposed of is too stressful. He occasionally remembers things from before his splicing, but he can never make sense of them as they are always from strange points of view (most likely memories from his less-dominant parts, such as the insects and sea-critters).

History: Feofan doesn’t remember much from before the splicing. All he does know is that his human base was a part of the military and that his original name was Feofan. The project to create soldiers with exoskeletons was eventually stopped and considered a complete failure, and so he was shipped off to the Soap Factory as one of the few (if not only) survivors of the experiment. Going by the name "Feofan" lets him feel a bit closer to his past.

Note: His body doesn't appear to have aged since the splicing. Unsure of why, researchers believed that his physical aging has slowed considerably.

Feo

Unknown.

Beets

Thank you~ I'm sure I will, this has always been my favourite roleplaying site.

Beets

Hello friends~ I used to have an account a while back but I've been on a bit of a hiatus from roleplaying. Glad to be back and hoping to find some good writing partners. c: