Appetence

Archive Log: 54

David had always suspected that the link between humanity and the Engineers was so deeply ingrained, that it couldn't possibly just come down to the simplicities of sharing DNA. No, through the dissection and exploration of Engineer corpses, David had found out that their anatomy was much the same, of course it would be, their genetic factor was identical. But both were rather...uninteresting. He had always been curious about humans, how they acted, their motives, their emotions. But this grew tedious rather quickly. It simply boiled down to the fact that both species were as inferior and dull as a brown paper bag.

The one good thing however, that both species could provide, whether they knew it or not; was that their being, for the better word, their meat, could be very useful towards the exploration, and the feeding of the black liquid. When David jotted down his findings, he frowned, feeding seemed like an inadequate word to use. But it was true. When the slightest bit of liquid came into contact with a piece of flesh, or a piece of organ, it changed. He had sat, face close to a microscope and blue eyes focussed on the scene on the small dish before him, and he had physically watched the change. Here, now, he could undeniably say that this mutagen was more, so much more than just a killing machine.

He mainly was inclining that way due to the fact that one day, from seemingly nothing, came something. A fly. Well, not quite a fly, something more akin to a mosquito. He had killed it, rather humanely. Simply having quicker reflexes than what the mosquito like insect believed possible, he had caught it, put enough pressure on its head and the bug was no more. David didn't think much about killing anymore. Not when it came to furthering his knowledge on just what he had here.

It was fascinating. Honestly, he couldn't think of something he had been so intrigued by before. He paused drawing the aforementioned insect and looked to the carbonised Engineer standing close. It just stood there, charred skin, a look of blankness on its face, one hand raised and the other by his side. In some small, rather odd and bizarre way he had fashioned his very own little mockery to David. The David he had chosen to call himself after, and subsequently the whole line that followed after him.

Shaking his head, he returned to his work. Even as he sat in silence, the warm yellow lighting providing more than ample light for him to see, he could hear the rolling thunder overhead. This planet, it seemed, was prone to severe weather. The changes could happen as suddenly as him clicking his fingers. He had been out one day, collecting fauna for his research, and any other poor creatures which had been struck down in the attack to study, and simply put: one minute, bright sun, the next dark clouds and a downpour. It wasn't just a downpour, it was heavy, hard hitting raindrops. Big raindrops which hit painfully against his skin and caused him to frown unhappily. No, it didn't exactly hurt. But the weather and the lack of light meant he had to cut his journey short. He returned to the temple, passed the etched lines on the wall and gone up the stairs to his newly acquired laboratory space.

The room was littered, positively littered with things. The walls were covered in drawings, the tables scattered with papers, equipment, test subjects and the like. Another room had stairs leading down to a basement like level, in the room there housed many scrolls, and shelves. Another set of stairs led to another layer of this place. Within this room though there was a door to another room and within laid Elizabeth's preserved corpse. Parts had been cut out, he had done a basic autopsy on her really. Removed organs, kept certain ones in. Opened her chest and really, he had put her to use.

The room he had adopted as his own private space, his bedroom he guessed, was void of his work. His drawings remained, yes, little instruments he had fashioned sat close by on a desk. Even a little nook, alcove was padded out with pillows and the like so when and if he wanted to, he could curl up and just lay in peace. Because that's all there had been for a while, was peace. The etchings on the wall downstairs had stopped at a tally which counted up to six months. He had done a lot in six months. He had moved away from the more experimental avenues of his work, to concentrate fully on documenting what had inhabited this planet. This is what he planned to do with the rest of the year here. And from there, David didn't know.