Post by RILEY TRAVIS ECHO. on Aug 3, 2013 20:18:42 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #477963; width:15px; height:550px; padding:0px;] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background: #2e2e2e; width:430px; height:550px; padding:0px;] she said "I'm so sorry you're going though all of this." "You're gonna be fine, there is plenty of time." TAGGED: kenzie WORDS: 888 Some days were better than others. Riley was someone who easily settled into a space that was his own so the episodes of overwhelming emotions were different for him. He got through them though. Honestly he figured it would be more worrisome if he didn’t get overwhelmed by what was happening in the world. For once he was tuned in to world problems. He was in the center of it. He was working for it, living for the cure. That was the most daunting part. Riley never figured that his life’s work would lead to something so, vital. When he was first shown the lab it was like a dream. Sure the thing was a little run down, he had to improvise with how to do things that he didn’t have the instrument he needed for. It didn’t seem real for the longest time. Then it set in and Riley about broke down because of it. He got over it, he had to. This was all so much bigger than him. This was his dream. This lab was his, with things he never dreamed he would have even if they were ruff around the edges. Riley wasn’t about to let all of this crush him. Or he hoped not at lest. Things had been going well he was getting a little bit of head way, finally, with what this thing was. He had help, of course. At first just from what he could figure out from those who went out into the city. He wished he knew more about the ever so elusive “patient zero”. Riley was a man who had focused on plant life part of biochemistry even so it gave him a good idea about the possibilities with hos this worked. The only problem was man made substances weren’t his forte. Just as so many movies predicted it was more on that spectrum than his very favorite theory’s behind how a zombie out break would be. “It would be t-t-to easy i-i-i-if it had be like that,” He muttered to himself. This was an argument he had with himself daily. He would have been set in the perfect time I the perfect place if this whole thing had been caused by fungal spores. “J-j-j-just imagine it. People being ta-ta-taken over by plant life!” He exclaimed, voice filling the room. “Th-th-though this would be a harder thing to live through. Corpses l-l-letting off spores.” He shrugged. Green eyes scanned over the notes in front of him. To any other person his note book would have been a disaster. His whole life’s work was in that book, years of research all scratched down on those collage ruled papers. It was a good sized note book, but to hold over ten years of work in it he had started to cross hatch over older notes and staple in scrap papers, full sheets, napkins, whatever he could scribble findings on. He could work it all out luckily. Riley circled a phrase he had been looking over time and time again. Genomic science. He fumbled about the selves looking for something. There is was, the book he had managed to bring with him. There were a couple of other scientific text that Grim’s had managed to find. He franticly flipped thought the pages. It wasn’t something that was printed originally in the book, it was something he scribbled on the side he was looking for. He found it finally in a section about DNA structures. Synthesized bacteria. He wrote the note down quickly on the paper in front of him. “They did that….in ta-…two-two-two thousand three.” He whispered. Then there was a chance that more could have been done. There was always the dream of synthesizing cellular structures. Making something better. Different being able to manipulate the natural world. He already knew that is was a virus. How said virus was carried though. It had to live in something and be carried somehow. Be deposited in the blood stream. Then it spread quickly made people aggressive, animalistic. Steroids? He wrote that down now. This was getting into a place he had a hunch about but Riley had previously been looking at how the virus spread, hoping that finding what made it take so aggressively. Then there would be a way to prevent it. He knew there was something out there that could hold the virus at bay. Nothing to cure it. The goal was to fix it all. So why not try and find the route to the virus, not how it spread through the system. His pencil started to tap rapidly. He had been awake for too long he had no idea where his head was going. “Why….i-i-if they knew how it was produced form s-s-something so common would they not be able to reverse it.” Teeth caught at his lip as he kept staring. Organic compounds. Then his eyes got wide. Lanosterol. “I….no….” He was getting to excited. He couldn’t have been that right. Riley shook his head and took a step back. He knew better than to jump on the ‘I was right train. He walked over to the chair in the center of the room and sat down, singing back in the chair and looking up to the ceiling. Jumping into something he didn’t have any had in, no one had formally studied was stressful. Even if he found something to really dive into again (his previous theory’s being quickly dashed, but he figured getting through the easy leads was the best plan)didn't mean he should assume it was that. “Wh-where, to go from there though?” He kept whispering to himself. NOTES: a little rusty hope it's not to bad. Yay Riley |
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