dnabcd: (spiffy)
Laurasiatheria Chiroptera.

He pondered this as he washed the blood off his hands at the stainless steel washbasin in his basement, making sure to soap all the way up to the elbows.

Megachiroptera, yinpterochiroptera pteropodidae, rousettus aegyptiacus... no, wouldn't do. A thought for later. He pondered his newest subject's face, his thoughts and his words.

Ah. Now that just might work.

He rinsed his arms and hands until the sink shone clean, then towelled off. He sprayed down the rubber apron hanging from a hook in the wall until it ran clear as well, then hosed the floor. One last check to make sure the trap door was locked and recovered with tiling, and he went upstairs. He was whistling "I Feel Pretty" as darkness took the basement floor once again.
dnabcd: (mystery)
Marco has been locked in his lab for three days. No one has seen him since the biopsy of Z's subject, where he'd watched with quiet anticipation in the surgery, waiting for the moment when someone handed him the healthy tissue sample. He's been sequestered ever since.

Not that Marco being locked in his lab is any new thing. He does this often, usually working on several projects at once. When he finally goes home, it's usually for a few days, unless summoned.

It was easier to grow an entire organ, even if most of it wouldn't make it to the subject. It ensured everything formed correctly, and it took much longer for him to specify which areas to grow. Besides, better safe than sorry, and well... there was something beautiful about the creation of complete organs. He once grew a brain and a spinal cord just for the thrill of seeing them take shape. Unfortunately, the project they ended up being a part of ultimately failed. Neverthless...

He'd wanted to try a new technique, one that would accelerate the growth of the tissues and have them ready to go faster, but Z had expressed a bit of trepedation when Marco had admitted that it wasn't quite perfected yet. Z, in his opinion, still needed to take more joy in his job. Discovery! Science! Ah, well. He was a philosopher, Andre. No telling him about the wonders of genetics.

The heart, near full formation, floated in a cylynder of oxygenated liquid. It beat slowly, rhythmically. Marco watched it for a while, studying the amazing muscle. His job never grew tiresome.

What would he do if he didn't have The Shop?
dnabcd: (well)
[locked to [livejournal.com profile] i_z_you

Andre.
dnabcd: (peek)
Andre? It's been a long time. Have a minute?
dnabcd: (sharp dressed man)
Ah. Another exciting day in the world of my lab, which is too small and not at all asthetically pleasing.

I will do something about that eventually.

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Dr. Marco

January 2009

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