❝ turn to frog ❞ byunghun & chunji
He could cauterize this wound with an incursion of information, and escalating from the morning he woke with the life of a psychopath twisted into his memory he sought to drown himself in textbooks and digital theses. Multiverse theories were lodged inside his head along with the eloquence of psychology publications; examination of subliminal thoughts merging with Tegmark’s taxonomy, dizzy spells inheritors to nights dedicated to analyzing the text and dancing his fingers over a laptop keyboard, the song of sleep deprivation and food forgotten. Of course, the information had been gargled, the mess of research plastered in walls of black text and graphite scrawl, and his head pounded, as if hosting a parade of infinite drum lines, needed to grasp onto a distraction and banish the migraines and eye bags.
“This is why I prefer biology. Abstract mathematics is enough to make anyone go insane…” The complaint is tired and distant, a faraway world in comparison to the microscope and the scrutiny of his blood cells trapped on a thin glass slide, equilibrium squashed by the absence of many red blood cells – anemia pestering him with his lapse of diet, and he can’t remember eating this morning (though he’s certain he had something – noodles? an apple? dry cereal?). “Anyways, reverse genetics is music to my ears right now, the sooner I finish sequencing my genome the better.” Byunghun adds, leaning away from the telescope for DNA to properly acknowledge Chunji’s presence, having dragged his roommate to the lab yet again for company and a second opinion.
And to prevent himself from going mad, that was definitely a benefit. Adjusting the wrinkles puckered across a t-shit plain and authentic – his ability’s potency seemed to be depleted lately, hair a stubborn red and irises a vexing shade of amber – he makes a valiant attempt to ignore the slack in this procedure, yet his mind consistently drifted back to scene of slaughter and quotes on psychoanalysis, a reiteration of obsession yet to be expunged. Or, it was impervious to the efforts, as even the guidelines of the shotgun cloning technique began to blur, and the sixteen week process doubled before his eyes. “It’ll be some time from now, but would you mind if I sequenced your genome one day? It may not be the solution to all, but for our kind, getting our hands on the information could lead to some enlightenment, and eventual peace. Knowledge is power, and all that.”