#cad15

[goodmorningawfulbye]

okay, I’m heading to bed now. I have to be up early.

I’ll be back Sunday night (and I may post here and there over the weekend, but I’m hoping that I’ll be too busy to be on tumblr. I’ve fatted the queue for tomorrow and Saturday nights/wee-hours-of-the-mornings)

[goodmorningawfulbye]

I have really high hopes that people will let the “Just do it” thing die at CAD and not keep me up with their awful shouting late into the night after I had a very long day

like they did at Midwest

I really hope they don’t do that again

that would suck

[milkyglasses]

Oh my god

[duckiebubbles]

On the Caroline Army stream (http://tinychat.com/drbowman password: caroline for anyone interested) whenever someone joins I get really excited in case it’s the geekenders and let me just tell you my heart has frozen in place about eight times tonight alone.

[allyitis]

Okay, so none of you told me that audio file didn’t upload properly earlier. For shame. And worse, when I tried again, Tumblr was still perplexed. So have a Soundcloud version.

ANYWAY. HAPPY CAROLINE APPRECIATION DAY. LYRICS ARE UNDER THE CUT.

Fetching coffee, Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed. “Yes, sir.” “Of course, sir.” What a good girl. (Yes, sir, Mr. Johnson!) Backbone of science But demure and submissive, Perfect little lady, What a good girl.

She’s so sweet, So kind, so innocent. She’s such a good girl And she’s also a monster. Got a pretty smile That’s brighter than the moon. She’s such a good girl And she’s also a monster.

Signing papers, Filing documents. Cover up those deaths, please. What a good girl. One of the test subjects is In excruciating pain (Please help me) But the data is exceptional. What a good girl.

She’s so sweet, So kind, so innocent. She’s such a good girl And she’s also a monster. Got a pretty smile That’s brighter than the moon. She’s such a good girl And she’s also a monster.

You don’t get What you deserve. You get what you get. And if what you get is eternity Is it a curse, Or are you blessed? Does she deserve it? Does anyone? If she’s a monster, Shouldn’t she live like a monster?

She’s so sweet, So kind, so innocent. She’s such a good girl And she’s also a monster. Got a pretty smile But it wanes like the moon. You’re in her trap now And she’s a goddamn monster.

She’s so sweet, (She’s so sweet) So kind, so innocent. (So kind, so innocent) She’ll look like an angel (An angel) As you burn alive. She’ll never do the dirty work, But she’ll ensure that it gets done. She’s such a good girl And she’s also a monster. She’s such a good girl. She’s such a monster.

[milkyglasses]

My Caroline appreciarion day is already over Because it's 00:53 in The Netherlands. Bleh

[intangible-rice]

Dilemma

Okay, so, confession time... when I first joined the Portal fandom I totally bought the “Chell is Caroline’s daughter” theory. (I KNOOOW shut up) And then of course I realized all of the really obvious timeline, race, etc reasons why that doesn’t work. And, in addition to those reasons, I now feel that if Caroline was ever faced with the dilemma of motherhood, she would have reacted in a completely different way.

A precise, unique, and complex process in which a chain reaction causes one tiny cell to multiply exponentially.

If you looked at it that way, Caroline thought, this was just another example of her and Cave doing science. But, of course, that wasn't at all like what it was.

It was a roadblock. A conflict of interest. An extraneous variable. And, most troubling of all, a threat to the company.

Caroline's thoughts raced as she made her way back to her boss's office. She couldn't be pregnant. Not now, of all times. Though, it wasn't as if she saw a specific time where she would be receptive to the idea - being "married to science" was a relationship which wasn't expected to yield children. But in the midst of a government inquisition, and the very real possibility of herself and her boss going to trial, the thought of imminent motherhood was the last thing she needed. She had hardly ever found anything in her work to support the existence of a god, but Caroline couldn't help but wonder if someone was looking down on her right now. And laughing.

She was 40. She should have been able to stop worrying about this kind of thing years ago. In fact, back when she would have had to take precautions, her love for Mr. Johnson had only manifested itself in well-worded test subject contracts and swiftly-handled experimental mishaps. One of the good things about them expressing their feelings so late (the only good thing, really) was that this sort of thing wouldn't be a problem. But, as Caroline knew from two decades in science, unexpected results are always a possibility.

She stopped outside of her boss's door. Finely crafted of wood and polished till shining, it was a remnant of Aperture's more successful days, when such expenses were harmless. After the company’s older layers had to be vitrified and new facilities built on top, there was no longer any reason, nor budget, for installing these frivolities. Everything was slapped together as quickly and cheaply as possible, the doors now a cold, gray metal. In Cave's usual vanity, however, he'd had his door specially removed and reinstalled in his new office - cosmic ray spellation be damned.

The door made Caroline's heart even heavier. Maybe back then - back when there was money, and optimism, and time - so much time - a kid would have been possible. Caroline could have gotten the wedding, house, family, and white picket fence her mother insisted on asking her year after year if she had made any progress towards. But though she loved her boss, Caroline wondered if she would have wanted that even then. She'd spent her life at Aperture, going from making coffee runs and answering insipid phone calls to becoming one of the most essential personnel in the facility. And with what kinds of jobs women were usually offered, that wasn't easy. Caroline was proud of her work. She'd truly built up an empire, one she controlled and one whose success now rested firmly in her hands.

Having a baby in those days could have destroyed all of that. It might have pushed her out of the company completely. Caroline realized with disdain that it still could. Even if everyone working here still managed to take her seriously once they found out she was screwing the boss - which was doubtful - the government was even less likely to. Caroline knew that no one else would be capable of delivering an argument good enough to save Aperture from government shutdown. But if she took the stand with a big belly, and no ring on her finger, talking about how the company was free of conflicts between personal and business interests, and how the employees' focus was on nothing but science, it wouldn't matter if she'd delivered the best defense in the history of recorded law. She'd be laughed out of the courtroom. Everything they'd worked for and accomplished would be snatched from them in the blink of an eye, and they would spent the rest of their lives paying for what the government deemed were their crimes.

Caroline swallowed as she saw a shadow moving behind the tempered glass cutout in the door. Her original plan, to push her way into her own office, deal with the most important work at hand, and ignore any other problems until she had time to properly contemplate them, was dissolving quickly.

Cave was the one who had sent her down to the medical wing, against her will, when she'd fainted right in the middle of protesting that she wasn't sick. If she were to walk in that door now, Caroline knew she'd be bombarded by questions about how she felt, and what the doctor had said, and if she should take it easy for a bit. Brushing Cave off wouldn't be an option - he'd hound at her, and notice the distress lined on her face, until she'd be forced to tell him. It was sweet that he cared so much, she supposed, but it only served to add to her anger and helplessness now. Because once he knew, there would be no going back.

Cave was a visionary, a one-of-a-kind, a self-made mastermind of science. But that didn't mean he was without flaws. Most frustrating to Caroline was his inability to see the bigger picture. In Cave Johnson's mind, it made perfect sense to conduct some highly dangerous tests involving NASA astronauts, without stopping for a second to think of what NASA would do when they didn't get those astronauts back. Or to change the elements of a test on a whim, simply shrugging off the idea of quality control and not caring about what had to be redone. And in about five minutes, it would make perfect sense to him to lift his assistant off her feet and spin her around in excitement, without thinking about any of the implications of her news. Not to mention the strain he'd put on his back by doing so.

Cave would brush off concerns about how their focus on work would suffer if they had a child to raise, or how the child would suffer if that didn't. About the very real threat it posed of him losing his best employee to a new career in motherhood. He wouldn't think, as Caroline had been for her entire walk back from the medical wing, about the birth defects what was growing inside of her could end up with, after her and Cave's years of exposure to god knows what down here. He wouldn't realize how much of a laughingstock it would made them at a trial, or to their own employees. And he'd never realize that there could ever be a situation where he might need to choose between his kid or his company.

So, just as she'd done for thousands of company issues, Caroline resolved herself to choose for him. The objective of their work was to be as detached from emotion as possible, from anything that could bias or compromise their company. From that view, this was the biggest threat they had ever faced. It needed to be eliminated.

Caroline took a step backwards, and turned around to head once again towards the medical wing. Cave would never have to know.

[allyitis]

From the moment she was born, Caroline had trouble sleeping.

It was something the nuns at the orphanage always came back to, a timeless joke shared between those who had known Caroline as an infant. At that time, Caroline didn’t sleep; she screamed. She wailed, her chubby cheeks red with neonatal rage, her face slick with sweat and tears. “She never slept more than an hour at a time,” muttered the nuns, casting Caroline a bitter glance every time they did so. “Always crying, never sleeping.” It was a humorous story for them, but Caroline always caught the resentment behind it. She learned to be silent.

As she grew older, there were nightmares. They were constant, relentless, shadows of the terrors that haunted her days. She’d trained herself to stop screaming, but the only way to do that was to avoid nightmares, and the only way to avoid nightmares was to avoid sleep. So: Every night, she read. She forced words into her brain and forced sleep out. In reading, she discovered science, and then she had a whole new reason to stay awake.

Science thrilled her, giving her a joy that she never quite experienced anywhere else. Being accepted as Cave Johnson’s assistant was a dream come true—and it was better than a dream, because she was awake for it. Caroline was alive, alive, alive, electric with energy in every part of her job. She worked overtime because she was never quite aware of the clock; it was easy to lose sense of time in a building with no windows. She immersed herself in science, letting her passion flow free into every task, and even when she was home in her bed, she was too excited to sleep.

Although her passion never waned, the novelty eventually did, slipping down the drain alongside Aperture’s funds. Soon, Caroline’s desk was littered with legal documents—and illegal ones. It was necessity, not love, that kept her awake in those days. The paperwork never ended; the company she adored had become a math problem with no solution. She had to cheat the world for science’s sake, and that took time. On the rare occasion that she was home at a decent hour, thoughts of bankruptcy and lawsuits plagued her, the full moon blinding on her face. There was no sleeping then.

When Aperture had reached its final hour, its patriarch made a decision. Caroline knew there was no contradicting the word of Cave Johnson. The nightmares returned, and rest did not.

The night before her upload, fear stole any chance of sleep. It didn’t matter, really; it was a reality of her life, a symbol of her faulty humanity. Even for the procedure, there was no anesthesia, the scientists claiming that they would have a better chance of a successful transfer this way. The pain was blinding, excruciating. It split through her body, creeping into the twitches and jerks of her limbs as those beneath her invaded her mind, breaking her mind, breaking her body, making rational thought impossible behind an onslaught of agony. Still, they forced her to stay awake. They kept her awake for hours, her lips numbing as she screamed syllables that were not words, until at last Caroline was dead.

She was dead, but she kept screaming.

She is dead, but she cannot sleep.