Strange Machinations (Hadyn's Abyssal Ocean Trainings)

The room was dimly lit by the lone candle at the tables edge, flickering slightly to give life to the shadows in the small room. Corners seemed to fade into a deep black abyss and the only real item that would stand out was a more than slightly used, shabby old mattress lacking any quilt or pillows. The perfect place for an inconspicuous laboratory, a shitty room for rent above the remote port’s only tavern. The table was lined with a series of small tools, ranging from screwdrivers to scalpels of varying sizes and shaped. On the ground sat a box, neatly opened with a precision cut down the middle of the tape, baring the strange metallic parts within. With a sigh, Hadyn reached down to grip the base of the candle, careful to avoid the fresh drips of wax as he walked it over towards the door, lighting the fresh wick, before doing the same on the wall opposite. The boy had soft baby blue hair and a strange assortment of relatively fancy clothing. A bow tie, also spanning the width of his shoulders was perched neatly in front of his collar, adding to his short aesthetic. At first glance, you could assume he was just a child, which even if that were true, he would still seem quite underdeveloped. Yet no, this was a young man preparing to embark on yet the next stage of his bodily upgrade, tinkering with his limbs at though they were nothing more than a canvas for his artistic pleasure. Returning to the table, he set down the candle to it initial stance, before sitting down and placing his arm on the table, staring first at his fingers, tracing his way up to the wrist and finally settling on the forearm. His fingers spread and relaxed repeatedly, watching intently as his tendons tensed and faded away.

It was a lost art form. One which many deemed to be unethical or disturbing. Very few had the unwavering determination to reject their original body in favour of one more…masterfully crafted. A self puppet, completely customizable. It should appeal to everyone, but the idea of tearing through your own flesh, or in some cases, removing it completely, seemed to take the ease out of any perceived benefits that may come out of it. Ah well, he thought. More for me. With little hesitation, Hadyn strapped his arm own to the table, securing it tightly at the wrist and elbow to ensure no reflex jerk of his muscles will get in the way of his work. Taking one last glance at the unblemished flesh, his attention was turned towards the neatly lined blades, grabbing the thinnest and nodding with satisfaction at his own choice. Well, here goes everything. His fingers curled gently around the handle, with his forefinger resting at the blades back as his brought it up to his skin and pressed it against it. There was no fear, his hands were perfectly still, unfazed by the act that was about to take place as this was no new experience for anyone in his position. His mind thought back to the all the old books and scrolls he had committed to memory on the biological makeup of Nova. So strange to think its all mostly water, or at least it was until he decided to meddle with god’s creation. A cyborg…Even Hadyn is unsure how far he is willing to venture into this realm of body dysmorphia. It’s a thought he comes to often when in this position, will he end up more man than puppet in the end? Or will he be another victim to endless advancement? He almost smiled at the thought, not for any particular feeling, but more out of habit.

As far as I need to go. Whatever it takes to reach it… The vow. A promise he made to himself so long ago. To kill all those who share his blood, the creatures who tormented his early life with no love for the poor child. No matter how long it took, nor how far he must go down this endless road, that driving thought will continue to spark the need. His focus dropped from a moment as Hadyn leant over the table to grab his new bodily addition from its box. It was a tubed hand cannon of his own design, which took a good part of yesterday to compile effectively. Putting it together was the easy part, but getting it to work in such an unorthodox form was way too difficult to pull off. When he finally finished, he was so mentally exhausted he just went straight to bed. As he continued working, his mind continued to drift away and his eyes almost glossed over, giving the boy an empty, blank expression which wouldn’t give anyone watching the process much confidence. It was a weird way of working. Consciously drifting off whilst tearing your own body apart was a very strange habit, but you could go as far as to say it pays dividends to his skill as a puppeteer.

There was a slight crack that echoed across the near silent room as the tubed accelerator was forced into its new cradle, causing his attention to snap back and assess the issue. Fuck…I’m a fraction too small. The choice here was pretty annoying, Hadyn can either force pipe through the space provided, or take the longer route of pulling it out somehow and doing more pre-work. Neither option was particularly pleasant. With another heaved sigh, he shrugged with his free shoulder and got to forcing the hard steel through his own until the barrel for correctly positioned before getting to work on the sealing and healing. Do all self puppeteers run into these problems at some point? Surely they would, right?

Hours passed and the everything was stitched up and ready to test. With a snap of the wrist, the barrel’s end peeked through the brace at the bottom of the palm, slightly raising the crevice of his skin. First few shots might deal some residual damage until the arm is properly shaped to the tool, but it seems to be functional now, assuming… *BANG*. Hmm... that’s louder than I thought it would be. In hindsight, firing it now, in the middle of the night, in a rented tavern room, yeah probably not the best idea. The wall beside the window had a fairly precise hole leading outside towards the dreary street. Everyone within the half the port would’ve heard that crap, let alone fellow guests staying in the next rooms. Within a matter of seconds, there was knocking at his door, followed by the gruff, angry voice of the barkeeper demanding an explanation through the solid wood. Hadyn took his time packing away all his tools and extra equipment, then decided to clean off the table, which was filthy with additional parts formerly a part of his forearm, before making his way to the door. A few lies here, a few apologies there. Before he knew it, he was curled up on the coverless bed staring blankly at the ceiling, watching the candle light flicker with its new found source of wind.

WC: 1202/1200

Training:

Approved