Reviews:
jessicanightmarewolf: I'm glad you're liking it so far! I love writing baby Cassie, honestly XXD / They're definitely growing something! / Yeee, I'm really glad you liked that bit, it just made sense that it would be something they'd look at / Thank you! Hope you like this chapter too ^-^
Parakeetlover3: Thanks! Hope you enjoy!
Project Tanellis
Chapter Two: Pitter Patter
Number Eight was in the tenth stage now, marking almost six whole months of their first trial. It was very distinguishably human now; a nose, a mouth, closed eyes, ears, legs. There was nothing abnormal about it, nothing to suggest that it wasn't quite the same as anyone else. No organs jutting outside, no limbs twisted inwards. It even almost had a neck.
Harper nervously tapped the end of her pencil against her clipboard. It was still alive, even though it probably shouldn't be. Number Zero had only lasted a week, and there had certainly been some others- Number Four and Six most notably- that had made it up to the tenth stage. Neither had survived extraction, and Harper wasn't willing to let herself be hopeful enough that Number Eight would either. Not on their first try. The first try never worked.
But maybe… maybe it would be possible. Maybe.
She just hoped Mevia didn't try to make her be the one to discard the carcass again if otherwise.
Harper grimaced at the thought and forced herself to turn to Eight's monitoring station, tucking the rubber of her pencil between her teeth so she had a hand free to start fiddling with the dials. She watched as the redstone wiring blinked and the nutrients were distributed into the pink jelly. Eight gave a slight wiggle in its tank, stubby legs kicking. Nausea curled in her stomach and stung the back of her throat. It was alive, and seemed to be growing well at least semi-regularly, despite the occasional flunks in its vitals (and the time a few weeks back, where its heart hadn't been beating for almost a full minute), but it was so likely to just… die. It would've been easier had it not developed so far. Would've been easier had she just not agreed to do another one-
There was a snap and a sudden weight as her pencil slackened, little bits of wood prodding her lips and gums. Harper pulled it out her mouth, spitting the end into her other hand. The metal was dented, the eraser scarred with teeth marks, and just below that was the broken wood that had caused the split. She sighed and set both ends on the counter, just glad she hadn't given herself a splinter this time. She scrubbed at her face tiredly. She really needed to stop using her pencils as chew toys…
"How much coffee have you had today?"
Harper dragged her head up to where Soren was sitting near the back at one of the other tables, surrounded by various books and notepads with illegible scribbles in small, cramped handwriting. He was watching her with a slightly cocked head, the tip of his quill still pressed to the page of his book. Harper fiddled with the button on her lab coat.
"Not much," she muttered, and glanced back at Eight, nestled securely within its puffy pink gel, "Why?"
"You're a bit jittery," Soren said, slipping his quill back into its inkwell. He stretched his arms above his head, grimacing a little when his back gave a series of cracks and pops. "Is there something wrong?"
"No," Harper said, perhaps a bit too firmly, "No, just… I'm fine."
Soren looked at her for a long moment. Finally, he sighed and settled back in his chair. "Things have been… rather tense since Isa left."
Harper went quiet. Finally, she blew out a breath and tugged her orange chewlery out of her pocket, "Yeah."
"I know you've been stressed lately," he continued, "Perhaps you should take a break from monitoring Eight."
"I'm fine, Soren," she insisted, biting on her chewie absently as she started to clean up her station. Soren's brow creased and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his table.
"Harper," he said, slowly, almost carefully, "I don't think you've been sleeping well. Have Mevia take over for a little while. At least a day or two. I'm sure Eight will be fine."
"An' 'o wha'?" Harper asked around her chewie, shooting him a frown. She tugged it out her mouth. "Go out for a refreshing nature walk? You know fine well I'm more comfortable here."
"A nature walk wouldn't do you so bad, you know," he said, and pressed on even after she sighed and turned back to her papers, "You could take Cassie with you. Maybe go to the lake. She likes collecting all the rocks there and feeding the ducks seeds. It might be nice."
"I'm fine, Soren."
"But what if you-"
"I'm fine."
She crammed her chewie back into her mouth, signalling the end of the conversation, and turned to leave. Soren's shoulders slumped.
"I just… I worry," he said, quietly, and she paused in the doorway, "I know you blame yourself quite a bit. So just… just know that you couldn't have done anything. It was her own choice."
Harper was quiet for a long, long moment. Her heart a heavy weight in her chest, pulling her to the floor. Keeping her in place. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Her bones ached something terrible. She let the chewie slip from her mouth and dangle from the rope around her neck.
"It was," she whispered, "Doesn't mean there was nothing I could've done so that she didn't feel like it was one she had to make."
She left. Soren watched her go. The heavy iron doors clicked shut behind her. He slumped and let his head drop to the thick pages of his book.
"Quite a mess," he whispered around the lump in his throat, "It's all quite a mess, isn't it, little one?"
Eight didn't respond. He wasn't expecting it to.
Cassie jumped down the short steps out into the back garden, the lights in her shoes flashing rainbow colours with each stomp. Rain pelted down from the dark grey clouds blocking out the sky above her, immediately soaking her shirt and shorts and splattering across her glasses. She ran out into the grass, giggles bursting from her chest, and splashed in the puddles growing there. Mud squelched beneath her, but she didn't care that she was getting her shoes and socks and legs dirty. It was raining and she liked the rain a lot.
Her ball, its rough, usually bright green skin soaked and stained, was tucked amongst the damp grass. She hopped over to it, spraying rain and mud, and had to use both hands to tug it out of the wet dirt with a gross squelch. She stumbled back, skidded in some gooey mud and fell onto her back with a loud squeak, clutching the ball to her chest.
Tears pricking at her eyes, Cassie dragged herself upright and hiccuped. She swiped at her eyes, smearing mud on her face and glasses, and clumsily clambered to her feet. She toddled back over to the cobblestone pavement and plopped down. A smile tugged at her lips when she smeared her ball and hands across the pavement, painting it with mud. She swiped away her tears and drew swirls and patterns, most of it quickly soaked away in the rain. Cassie kicked her legs to bash the heels of her light up shoes against the ground, spraying more mud in flashes of rainbow. It was everywhere. Just how she liked it.
"Bah!" she jerked her legs, the sole of her shoe smacking into her ball and sending it bouncing, before flopping onto her back in a fit of giggles, tears long forgotten. The rain pitter-pattered against her smeared glasses and mud splattered cheeks, warm in the summer heat. She let her eyes close and lay there, soaking it in.
When the rain eventually died to a light drizzle, Cassie sat up and rubbed at her eyes to wake herself up some. She looked around and realised, with a frown, that her ball was gone. Spotting it further away, snug against the tall quartz wall that fenced in the back garden, Cassie climbed to her feet and hurried over to it. She plucked it out of the grass, looked up and came face to face with the wide open gate.
Cassie blinked at it, startled, before hesitantly poking her head through. She could see the lake glistening a bit further down, an odd contraption that she didn't understand retrieving and storing fish for their dinners planted squarely on its rocky beach. She turned her head to the right to see the forest, a dirt path winding off from the main brickstone walkway and into its depths. The chicken coop, which she had occasionally terrorised (and left her banished to her room for the remainder of the evening), was quiet as it's residences huddled inside and kept dry. There was nothing but the gentle patter of rain.
The toddler trailed out of the gate, looking around unsurely. She'd been outside before, of course, but it was always rather briefly and always with someone else, holding her hand or carrying her to make sure she didn't wander off. Looking around properly, especially with how different everything seemed in the splattering rain… the world seemed so, so big.
She stood there for a long moment, hesitating, debating whether or not she should just head back inside. A high-pitched honk made her jump, eyes snapping towards a cluster of weeds- just in time to see a small family of ducks waddle out into the open air. Cassie sucked in a breath, eyes widening. She watched as the mama duck paused, glancing back as a little line of baby ducklings scurried out of the weeds after her, before she continued on across the field like the head of a fluffy train. They waddled right past Cassie's legs and took off down the winding path towards the lake.
Cassie stared after them. Then she dropped her ball, splattering some fresh mud on her shoes, and hurried after the duck train.
Mevia leaned back in her chair, rubbing the aching muscles at the base of her neck. She blew out a long breath and let her stinging eyes fall shut; the insides of her eyelids swam with blurred code and maths equations. The spot just above the arch of her eyebrow thumped in time with her heartbeat.
"Long day?"
She cracked open an eye, just as Otto cleared enough papers from her desk to set down a steaming cup of tea. She grunted and sat up properly, stretching and listening to the pop of her spine.
"You could say that," she muttered and huffed another sigh. She accepted her tea gratefully and sipped, careful not to burn her tongue. It warmed her mouth, steam spreading colour into her nose and cheeks.
Otto hummed quietly, dragging a chair over to sit next to her. They sat in silence for a long moment, only broken by the gentle pitter-patter of the rain on the glass panes of the golden stained windows. The bags beneath Mevia's eyes almost seemed to weigh down on her whole body, dragging her head into a bow as she nursed her tea. She fought a yawn.
"You put together the Eversource's chamber yet?" she asked. Otto nodded.
"Starting work on it once the rain lets up," he said, scratching absently at his stubble, "But the blueprints are all cleaned up. It'll have certain eggs going to one end and others to another, depending on whether or not they're passive… and I've made sure the Eversource's will be comfortable, of course."
Mevia nodded and sipped at her tea. It spread warmth through her chest and to the pit of her stomach.
"Cass outside?"
"Most likely," Otto said, glancing towards the windows as though he could spot her, "We should bring her in soon for dinner... she'll likely be covered in mud again."
Mevia chuckled into her tea. Cassie wasn't a particularly messy kid, but that all changed when it came to rain and mud… which wasn't all that surprising.
The heavy doors creaked as they were pushed open, and the two glanced over to see Hadrian making his way in, pulling a face as he peeled off his soaked raincoat. Otto raised his hand slightly in greeting.
"Cup of tea, Hadrian?"
"If you would," Hadrian hung up his coat and, upon Otto vacating his chair, plopped into it with sigh, "This kind of weather is such a pain… we should move to a snow biome."
Otto laughed from where he was putting the kettle on, "Harper would have your head. You know fine well she hates the cold."
Hadrian just grunted and glanced at Mevia, "How's that project of yours coming? The navigation thing?"
"The Atlas," Mevia corrected, eyes trailing towards her mounds of papers and scrawled code, "It's… a start."
"It shall certainly make traversing the Portal Network much easier," Otto said, leaning against the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil, "As well as maintaining who goes in and who goes out… I'll help organise your coding after dinner."
Mevia nodded, stifling a yawn, "Would be appreciated."
When the kettle popped, Hadrian helped her stack her papers and books to the side so that they had more room. Mevia's eyes ached, her tea mug spreading warmth through her stiff fingers. She tried to pay attention to what Hadrian and Otto were talking about- something about the new specimen and how he wanted to see how it reacted to a new form of nutrients he was developing- but everything was so heavy. Wouldn't be a big deal if she just rested her eyes for a moment…
Someone was shaking her and Mevia was jerked back to awareness, muddled and confused. Her tea, seated on the desk in front of her, had grown a layer of cold skin over the top. She blinked hard, dragging her eyes to Otto. He looked… almost frantic. It was a little jarring from how composed he normally was.
"Otto?" she sat up right, a crink in her neck from sleeping at an odd angle, "What's gotten into you?"
"Have you seen Cassie?" he asked. Her brow furrowed deeply.
"What? No, of course I haven't," she said, "Why? What time is it?"
"She's not in the house," Otto continued, "And the back gate was open."
Mevia rather abruptly found her arms popping with goosebumps, despite the warm fire lighting the room. She pushed herself to her feet. "Where're the others?"
"Hadrian and Harper have already gone out to look for her," he said, starting to head towards the doors, "Soren's still in town. Come on, she can't have gone very far."
It was still raining outside, although it had thankfully lightened to a drizzle. Mevia tugged up her hood, following Otto along the cobblestone path before veering off onto a muddy trail leading to the Eversource coop. She bent at the waist, clipping open the latch and peeking through the door. The little chickens were tucked inside their nests, clucking occasionally. No sign of Cassie. She ignored the single empty nest near the back and latched the door shut again.
"Do you know where Hadrian and Harper are searching?" she asked.
"They're heading down to the dock," Otto said, but he wasn't looking at her. He pointed. "Isn't that her ball?"
Mevia followed his finger and, sure enough, there was a rubber ball abandoned in the grass, its colour hidden behind a layer of mud. She went over to it, nudging it over with her foot; it was covered in streaks and small, muddy child handprints.
She took a breath and let it out slowly, "It's hers."
"Alright," Otto said, chewing on the inside of his cheek, "Alright. Since Hadrian and Harper are checking the dock, we should go down the forest trail… maybe she's trying to find the beehives we showed her last summer."
"The dock," Mevia murmured, something tightening in her chest, almost like a screw, "She can't swim."
Otto was quiet for a long moment. "No," he muttered, finally, "She can't."
The two of them stood there. Then Mevia turned and, without a word, started heading towards the woods. Otto followed her.
Harper's foot sunk into thick, sticky mud, lake water immediately soaking through her shoe and pants leg. She cursed, tried to jerk herself out, and only ended up sinking knee deep. She struggled for a moment, trying not to get her other leg stuck too, before groaning and pressing her fingers into her eyes. Her head thumped terribly.
A hand grabbed her around the upper arm, hoisting her back out of the mud. Hadrian's mouth was set in a thin line.
"She would've gotten stuck in the mud had she come this way," he said, "We should check the other side of the bank one more time."
Harper looked around at the bank, a mess of goopy mud, water pools and long grass that scratched at her bare hands. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry.
"What if she sunk under the mud?" her voice was surprisingly steady. Hadrian was silent. Staring out across the mud and grass and grey water. It was near impossible to see what parts you could fall into with all the long grass (and the light rain certainly wasn't helping matters, and she was fairly sure it was making the mud worse than usual), especially if you were a toddler that barely reached Hadrian's knee. If she'd come over here… if she'd tripped or taken a wrong step or gotten stuck and couldn't tug herself back out…
Nausea churned in Harper's stomach. Her knees wobbled and she took a step back; Hadrian grabbed the front of her robes just before she could sink into another patch of muck.
"Harper, for god's sake, breathe," he said, brow furrowing deeply, "You know what she's capable of, I'm sure she-"
Harper swatted his hand away. Her fingers were trembling.
"We wouldn't be out here looking for her if you hadn't left that goddamn gate open," she spat, heart thumping in her ears, "What the hell made you think-"
"Left the gate open?" Hadrian cut her off, his face darkening into a scowl, "What on earth makes you think I left it open?"
"You were the last one outside!"
"I came through the front door, Harper," he said curtly, "I didn't even look at the back garden. But I'm sure you don't much care about that, now do you, considering you're so quick to blame others for everything."
Harper barked a sharp, humourless laugh, "Well maybe if you weren't butting in all the time-"
"Oh, for god's sake, Harper-"
"Don't you dare," she hissed, shoving a finger- now trembling more with a bubbling fury than nausea- in his face and making him recoil, "Don't you fucking dare, Hadrian."
He sneered at her. There was a splatter of mud on one of the lenses of his glasses. "Don't you just think you're perfect? For all I know you're the one that left that bloody gate open."
"I was in the labs all day monitoring the experiment!" she took a step closer, forcing him to take a step back to avoid her shoving into him, "Like you insist I do! Because god forbid you do it yourself-"
"Harper, I swear-"
Hadrian cut himself off with a short shout, having taken another step back- right into a muddy pit. He sank all the way up to his hip, automatically tried to shove himself back onto solid ground with his awkwardly bent but mostly stable leg, only for that to sink in as well. He pinwheeled momentarily to stop himself from falling flat on his back and then went still, arms out, and waist deep in the mud.
They looked at each other. Then Hadrian groaned loudly and shoved his glasses up his head to pinch at the bridge of his nose.
"Now look at what you've done!"
"What I've done?" Harper echoed, something hot and boiling in her chest, "What do you mean what I've done!?"
"For someone that's so smart, you really are daft, aren't you?" Hadrian snarled, "Now pull me out!"
"Oh, daft, am I?" Harper said, her voice tight with rage, the heat in her chest rising to her cheeks. The muddy water at her heels bubbled. "Everyone except you is daft, isn't that right? This is exactly why Isa left-"
"Would you just-"
A hand shot out of the muck, grabbing Harper's ankle. She gasped, twisting around, just as it jerked her right off her feet. She landed on her back hard in a splatter of mud, some getting in her eye, the breath forced from her lungs. Hadrian was cursing loudly in her ear, fumbling for an axe he'd forgotten to bring in his haste to search for Cassie.
A second hand dragged its way skywards, oozing with black mud, and slapped down on mushy grass. It began to drag itself upright, spitting worms around a garbled moan, rotten face puffy and peeling. Its jagged, broken nails bit into the skin around Harper's leg; she jerked it upwards, the top of her foot hitting the Drowned square in the jaw and snapping its mouth shut, forcing its head upwards. She scrambled back, tried to get to her feet, but her arms sunk into sticky mud and she would've gone in head first had Hadrian not grabbed her around the shoulders and pushed her back up from behind.
The Drowned gave a garbled groan, decaying hands outstretched in an attempt to grab her, yellow teeth bared, ready to sink into flesh and bone and muscle. Harper's hand shot to her belt, but found no weapon, because of course she wasn't one to carry hers around with her, that was more of Isa and Mevia's thing- her fingers closed around the pouch of redstone she kept for when she was working on her circuits, the fabric soaked from the lake water, but the inside would be just fine. She'd made it waterproof for a reason.
Hadrian was desperately trying to climb out of the mud behind her, cursing up a storm. The Drowned lunged and Harper's fist hit the side of its head, slicing the skin of her knuckles and cracking its fragile skull with a disgustingly wet crack. The monster swayed, jaw loose and hanging, moss-coated tongue lolling. It gurgled and lake water trickled out of its mouth.
She risked a glance over her shoulder, just in time to witness Hadrian lean his weight against a slightly more solid piece of ground and drag one of his legs out with a sluck sort of sound that, had her heart not been thudding with adrenaline, would have probably made Harper grimace. She tried to get to her feet, hands and knees slipping and sliding, but was too slow; the Drowned latched onto her arm, sinking blunt teeth into the flesh of her shoulder.
Harper screamed- she must have, but she didn't actually hear it, nor was aware of it. She tore the bag from her belt, the tie snapping, and hit the monster full in the face with it. Redstone dust burst out like a cloud of red glitter, getting into its eyes and mouth, getting into her eyes and mouth. It didn't really hurt it, but it was enough to startle it, its jaw loosening its grip on her shoulder momentarily. A fist hit it between the eyes from somewhere behind her, knocking it back; Harper drew her arm around herself like a wind-up toy and swung, hitting the side of its head with her forearm and knocking a few of its teeth loose; it fell right back into the muddy puddle it had dragged itself out of, head first, and its feet were the last to sink underneath.
For a split second, Hadrian and Harper stared at the spot, as though expecting it to come shooting out again. Then they were dragging themselves to their feet, soaked to the bone and caked in slimy mud, and hastily (albeit cautiously) making their way back along to a more secure part of the bank.
Neither said anything. Not about the argument. Not about Cassie. Not about what they were both thinking.
If she'd come this way, she was likely dead.
I'm trying to expand a bit on the Old Builders relationships with each other here- a really weird mix of caring about each other and hating each other to the point of toxicity. I also want to try and expand on how, like, even though some of them are more guilty than others, every one of them were in the wrong here and there. I hope that makes sense, haha