Simon was a young, very handsome man with a certain gentle grace of both nature and face. He was fair of skin and of tall-medium (five foot eleven) height. With a wiry, slender, muscur build. He had fine features, full, ruby lips and pensive eyes, the vivid green of forests, thorns, and rose stems. These eyes were also quite rge and a dense, soft mane of straight, dark golden- blond hair fell into them.
His voice, soft and kind and most earnest, was second only to Emanuel’s (whose modution of his was most astounding). With the ability to be sweet as the hummingbird, soothing and pcating as the mother singing to the child, but like Emanuel’s could be very powerful even whence whisper-soft and with a range that at its deepest, thundered and echoed vastly. It had a firm-handed, strong, masculine quality. The voice of the Father who art in heaven. He was a staunch believer in democracy and heavily reguted capitalism and was thus opposed to Aryan and his group.
He was a member of another party The Generationlists( all about ensuring a stable political system that would endure through the generations), a sort of branching of the Greens who fell apart as the third party of Australia, who had weaknesses in their economic policy and pandering to soft, middle-css interests and sentimentalist issues( multiculturalism, refugees, gay marriage) after some scandal involving shoddy dealings within the party’s highest ranks long after their founder stepped down as leader. Simon had been highly suspicious of all the recent deaths of Aryan's enemies, and all the sudden populist, parliamentary reforms.
He decided to do some sleuthing into Aryan, Shiver, and Mist's pasts. The party had many other members up for seats in the House of Parliament of course, but these two youngsters who just suddenly become high-ranking party members had always seemed rather seedy to him.
He searched and searched till he came across a series of news articles pertaining to one Alice Cradle, Shiver Gray's name before she changed it. Many people around her had died, of the same viral pgue that was killing people now. This girl was seen as a sad little survivor turned political activist who attended two schools hit particurly hard by the pgue and where many perished.
Simon had often considered that perhaps Aryan and his altruistic, near heavenly persona was very much a farce. A scientist and an exceedingly wealthy and powerful man and one who Simon felt was a rather spurious humanitarian for he exhibited quite a sanctimonious and self-righteous air. He suspected among other things he was using some kind of biological warfare.
Perhaps using some type of pgue to wipe out his enemies... but so many of Aryan’s nemesis had died of suicides or being convicted for heinous crimes, disappeared of the face of the earth or simply had their business crash and fail...
Even if he was resorting to subterfuge, Aryan could not possibly have orchestrated all those deaths, could he? Simon shook his head with no clue that Monovalent had been informed by one of Aryan's spies that someone had been snooping into Shiver and Mist's pasts. Monovalent decided not to tell Aryan but leave Simon clues... A trace to follow.
After all he was no threat: the virus dormant in his system could fre up at any moment on Monovalent, Mist or Shiver's command. The virus’s flesh-eating properties could be engaged instantly, and Simon would be immobilised within minutes and dead within the hour. Long before he could have time to travel to the police station and expin and show his accumuted evidence to the w enforcement authorities.
Monovalent stole or took without permission from his own drives the papers describing Aryan's experiments with stem cell and AI technology on development of foetuses with potential for immortality if they were confted together with a machine.
Sent a medical report involving young Evan.
Child nine years, tallish but with slight build brought to ER after funnel-web bite. A neighbour brought and signed him in as parents both unreachable. Spider’s blood was on his hands, its remains in a gss bottle. He Informed staff;
“Thing bit into me whilst sleeping and so caught the repellent beast and upon feeling its revolting form bnched. Resultant; my throwing it against a wall with force.”
Examination revealed arachnid already deceased of bacterial or viral agent. Hairs greenish, abnormal tissue-like growth on its head ter tested and revealed to contain foreign DNA. Causing tumours from excited, uncontrolled cellur mitosis. Dead body twitched due to uncontrolble muscur activity, excessive saliva at mouth. Data and effects on humans/origin under investigation at present.
Patient silent yet seemingly unharmed made little eye-contact and spoke only once after answering the on-call nurse’s questions in manner polite, cooperative but reluctant. It appeared to be about the blood.
“Filthy, undignifying, remove it please. Pity he didn’t wake me quite in time to avoid this,” his tone suggested disgust. His odd behaviour as possible signs of avoidant personality disorder and/or obsessive-compulsive germ-phobia and likely autism, were noted.
As he presented asymptomatic, staff assumed venom not excreted in the assault. However, under advice of the attending physician, he was tested. Results were normal except toxicology showed small, broken-down traces of the poison as if he were possibly immune and his body had neutralised the compounds. Patient sample was taken for further testing everything showed typical except a few possible odd genetic markers found. However, connection to the immunity could not be proven.
Someone from what seemed to be named the Shiver infantale project had recorded in their documentation the incident.
The nelfine organ was cimed in this cssified document as the only marked signifier (small but visible on advanced X-ray) that without extensive, specialised testing could show Shiver were inhuman. The nelfine organ could, under Monovalent’s command, near-instantaneously dissolve apart and revert cellur bodies to their stem cell stage before remerging whole. Leading to immortality in the Shiver creature.
Monovalent silently “gifted” him some papers Mary published on retroviruses in human DNA and humans being virus, bacteria, and cell chimeras and a piece from the Shiver journal documenting the progress and even a page of simplified terms of the new processes and their newly made-up names.
Shiver documentation- new terms and their applied meanings
Metamornaphasis-foetal na from nano and metamorphosis. The former, being miniature robotic lifeforms and the tter meaning undergo a transformation. Foetal is abbreviated often to fetal though do retain little penchant for its "incorrect" o-inclusive origin
Naturally refers to in infancy whence still developing in mother’s womb and has lovely undertone of fey as in otherworldly, fairylike I'll utilize ter.
Say: met-a-morn-a-fay-sis.
The Farling changeling who like the fabled spirit hath taken the pce of a human child yet refers specifically to a creature not mythical but scientifically born/engineered.
Shiver faetal- immortal, gene-spliced human-mirroring chimera. Of cellur, viral, bacterial, nano and artificial-intelligence aided structure. Riddled seemingly with errors Mendelian, its every allele do ck a line of direct genetic inheritance. Leaving them my Shiver-faetal with no clear parental linage. Shiver for frozen fairness of its incarnations.
Called too the telomeres faetal sometimes written faey then either will be tal or til followed. Derived from archaic faetus and fetal, comes from too and pronounced simir to the immortal fay. Also derived from and is the mirror reversal of fatal.
Pronounced either fay-e-till in the holyed nguage of the air upon discussing its mystical nature or inhumanness but if considering its muddier and simpler connection to mankind ought be said in comparatively harsher vernacur of the common folk where they lie the "il fay-e-tarl."
Monovalent intones it as should be at beginning fay-e but uses ending tal phonetically when speaking it, despite my corrections. However, any used variation (and this he does comply with) includes more soft-strung, delicate-tongued, airier intonation than most modern dialect.
Infanta-nefine or nelfine organ that recognises, stores, neutralises or break-down harmful bacteria and viruses and chemical substances entering the body ( also contain symbiotic bacterial colonies barriers that recognise and convert helpful compounds into something useful for the body.
Nelfine makes unwarranted entrance more difficult helping prevent damaging effects on cell function, livelihood and ultimately life-span. From the word infantile to keep young/youthful.
Pronounced: former either in-fan-ta- for colloquial or In-fan-till-a for the strictly-Holy tongue. Neh-l-feen. The storage for cells in re-cooperating part. Word combines infant with the from Shiver.
The assimited cellur refire and fairyre will be abbreviated simply to faerieyre. Also, fareyre or farieyre. This process involves allowing our changelings chimeric cells to renew indefinitely. Totipotent cells regenerate, migrate and amass whilst those aged, worn or dying with accumuted free radical damage and significantly shorted telomeres length in the compromised form be from the body parting, eventually infantile cells repce them all.
Faerieyre; one whom does well fare in the fey, faerie and the fire via mystical refiring of spark and ember of life on pne mortal cannot naturally transcend.
Pronounced Faerie-air.
Fetaling- Stage wherein Shiver undergo renewal with stem or foetal cells
Faetaled ( fay-e-tilled) something that undergoes/ has undergone the fetal-reparation process.
Faetally/Faetille. Foetalish/Fetalish Involving the process( first two words) or like it( second ones). Both the former said as ( fay-till-e), and second two also written either way are simir pronounced (fee-ta-lish)
Archaea-bacterviral- mingle of these two simple organisms to form part of the base of Shiver structure to aid via homologous recombination for rapid repairing between fetalings.
Narlen fluted( one-of-the-Nelilih) term for a child of this species not yet approaching womanhood or in male variation not yet at manhood. Nar Inspired by Narnia wherein child no longer able journey there past a set age, and l from little and en from st two letters of children as Narlen are two Shiver prototypes and they're the end result of gene-maniputed, human children.
They are also both ones unfortunate as being the "ilud non-bloodfeli. Their but blessed siblings the "felminotaur" –Former are created without blood bond or feeling or graces of the familial that turn ille ravine to a whimsical wellspring.
Say: blood-feel-i
Child without ties to any kin, an unfamiliar genetic womb-beast as if since conceived God cursed and within their self “never to fell the Minotaur.” Selfishness masking as nobler intention. Sometimes what we want is not the good or rightful thing.
Fledgling-blinder( Fledge--Delih): Named for the early-adolescent, bird at an equivalent in-between stage of development. Yet the Shiver are eviler. To the order of the "bell of the braised-nighted." One delicate yet a blinder, both bruising others and self-nguishing; being of "nighted eyelid."
Farlen-of the Flowerfile-Varie/Vair; A Shiver successfully grown past mid-adolescence. With the build of the brightest warrior and the prime the bloom of the maiden. Varie standing for airy or cking the solid substance of spirit or stable condition and for variant. Of malleable DNA. They are creatures that can cloth themselves in another being.
Pronounce; "far-len" of the "v-air", in the mudhole yman's tongue it is "vah-rye". Then simply flower and file be said as one-word.
The Feylilith and the Broke Valley of a Shale- another detonation for these necessary abominations inhumanly and their duties.
They reside able to cells adjust to accommodate any human flesh they wish to ride in as the Bitterly Bayard and as the Faie-Lilith of Trouv'ere. A poetical-dearity yet one found in a venomous pnt. Abound In vile feuilles feyly amidst the half-stone of a nd otherwise in full non-greenery of the turned evil. Shiver is unique morality wise. Mist only in art lies polished as the wicked silverweed, consumingly-red blush of dusk of a cinquefoil ilium. Wined as a Potentil.
Betterness attempt, their want for improvement devouring. Vied to become lightid against the curbed. Unlike fervour of evil raisenor whom be sweetnill of the ill-valiants.
The Shimolecuri-Valients: Unique chemical bonds that make up their genetic material.
Pronounced-Sh-Molecur-rye
Di-oeli-Maytallied or Maetaled: "Where others die our doe flied to their Mays and for an eternity tallied. As were tied, ridden to the immortal tale of machine.
Combining, wiring of the Shiver infantale (plural of infanta) and spoken in-fan-ta-lee to the Artificial intelligence thereby creating a relentless, hybrid, chimera who repairs itself indefinitely
Say: di-o-ill-e
Simply intone, may and tallied conjoined softly, gently, into one. Second example is spoken May-e-tilled or in the common speak may-e-tarled. Monovalent probably to grate upon my nguage sensibilities and hate for American simplification of words, uses the tal phonetic.
Myfadarle rough transtion: my fading dart leaves. The aging dearth which leads listlessly to a hindrance towards growth or change and afflicts most people. May its tear never this team strike.
Pronounce: My-fa-dar-lee one permanently in that state is a Myfardlea ( My-far-day- lee-a.)
Ferly- it’s bountiful counter; fervour linger and y.
Say: Fur-y.
The Sheoluvu illvior. This ailment- ever marked the cwer. Due to his soul-dent, he needs others fence and everywhere stroll to make all his. Sits bitter upon compatriot treaty of Versailles as around him man and nature colpse in a blue fell. Watching the pitted through his Azure Window.
Spoken aloud as She-ol-you've-u-, Ill-vie-o-r
Page 83 of the Shiver project. Documentation of the Shiver assimited into the English nguage from science to easy-to comprehend-phrasing.
The Wicklow on Pne-haldifare( or the toothless nest on pne of the immortal); a state wherein being is considered technically endless but yet to be proven. There might be unseen vulnerabilities, failings diseases to it ter fell. Hal from halt as in stop as ever waiting to see how shalt fare, di from die ( loss of existence.)
The "rose in the Wicklow" within the bower of God: refers to an ideal that if true, achievable would be indefensible to argue for anything else. Something like "pure liberty" and "loving everyone with equal depth" but in reality, causes something more akin to the toothless nest.
For deadly behaviours because "freedom. Calls for dissolving regimes of power like government for ruleless, cut-throat anarchy. Untrained, self-interested people with competing and no cohesive values must police each other and no official structure to handle corruption or needed justices.
Concerns loss of true empathy that extends from retions most dear. Impossible standard of equity. To love people simirly is to love them shallowly... Intimate knowing is where bonds bloom best.
My Shiver must through life plough with sociopathy’s tragic hollowness. Yet still their lips are a scarlet furl from which the joyous part. Spoken soft, unhalting. Never-ending grace in deliberately-hesitant footfalls, ever-blossomy feet.”
Why create these so-called monstrosities? A question fairly melodied. The answer? They’re an anchorvaliant. There is no way to living in an unspoiled floweriness if all yield to moors of the cwed. Every molecule, atom, human-less. Humans have become worshipers of profit margins and collectible things: status hoarders, with many a thought unallowed to be spoken. Should be annihited, this earth of listless limbs and lightless eyes. That current year tainted. Many rendered too cold to even desire sying, sucklers of pstic material, and overmedication. Work for its own sake. Pathologize unapproved thought, rebellion, and even need.
“Malformed, lifeless. We reap-away intensity. Workaholics fickle and festive, deride truer talent. We ban that which truly rang lovelier to make the grotesque rejoice upon an artificially-higher pne. Worship of the fertile, healthful, and our dearest blood ties tearing aside for gay greed. Their vanity leaves all desecrated.”
Alongside well-crafted art and building, either make shabbily for the farthing or due to rampant individualism, subjectively and narcissuses falsely believe must hath ability to perfect maketh. A joyous treat with the seldom cup-of-wine dews turns to liver-decaying. Deoxygenated internal and external arteries. Failure and wilt of lumbar and limbal.
Lovers of the petilnt harshly fare; drowned in alcoholic showers. Crackling, with the wild Irish rose and with integral chambers breached by a glutton’s heart-sying. With smoked-out lungs. Bodies cold and well-rode. Defiled. deflowered. Skin yellowed as bile. Sired none, no child-made, deadened luteal phase. Mimicking the inked sailors of yesteryear to taint the godliness in mortaled image made; shawling all the beauty of the Almighty.”
Feign talent, seek statuses of which unworthy. Mutite themselves into monsters to feel with specialty engraved. Birds who soon plucked their own feathers, for cking a life of depth or any bonding. Became in madness sheared. Loveless, childless. In dismal solitude, unyielding and obstinate. Deadened by materialism's cold promises and a relentless lifetime of silence and thorniness. Sat by the weathered gate, mournful oak and willow. Nevermore newly-pnted, any flourishing redwood. We're all lolling amongst snaking creepers.
Verdure climbers to the heavens instead lie bck-lilled. Crumbling castle out-beautied by humbler stone and simple vines on one-bale hill. Capitalist's failure is not purely its callousness toward the simple, downtrodden, or weak but its refusal to distinguish between the brutal and ape-like whom its ways enforce and the rich talentless gluttons who inherit their fortune and the true artistic greatness dying in gutters; many scientific wonders are denied grants for fshier things. Some men simply better shill their mediocre works.
The hack miser pales to the sweet family with loyal, noble attributes. To them due, we can see a more chirping, cricketed morning. In a life eerie and oddly gray and golden. A miser’s lulling raven ventured forth in Inore. Under him, the foal traverses from filly to equine ghostly.”
Male and female differences cannot be artificially lessened. The better angels of men must not toss aside masculinity's righteous brutishness. To bow before the exquisiteness falsified of a people that are homogenous, non-entities.
We must return to the depths, well-grounded. Since childhood, our half-quelled warm, salient rage welled. Hailing loves fellowly but hidden. For our need “ungainly” for it was shamed. With fears fring, we deride feelings vast. We feared to walk near intensity or to feel love’s difficulty. Post-modern society appuds the creation of felons who celebrate idle fickleness: mindless attempts at boredom staving and ill-health alongside rote work svery.
Who nguish feckless. Our heroines and heroes of modern-day entertainment needlessly risk their health and livelihood whilst disregarding sensibility. They stave off devotion, attachment, and true creative thought, Their lost potential is a beginning pinprick of light we are from birth sying. We lost the ethereal. A word torridly misused, overapplied. Often misbelled as denoting art made of no man’s treasures. The talentless ride nepotism and the whimsical fortunate of a windfall: as the people of modern-day glide by, pin, hardened, and garishly dressed. How an overeducated society runs cold. Not due to heightened intellect, quite the contrary, but rather for its cynical tendency to see man as a mere beast ordinary. Begging he revels in a godless life mundane.”
Comes our bower of God and greatness. Into dry, heavy air, we water-delicate-as-webs sprinkle. His rainy Word in light sprang, carried dewily across the wind. Nourished and away from darkness flighted. All the embittered beasts.
To great distance, dearly fly the light to day, in the Promised Land of climbing flowers and wreathing holly. Paths leaved. Till became wintered the foliaged ground. False Progress, with his unfurled, briar-fingers all alliances fell. Killed or against will held. Lying through a soft, gentle countenance both kind and fair. The former night’s snowing has in every nearby wood, everything frosted yet in whites that do make the valley, bird-winged and downy.
Evil child to bloom. Sprung forth from hell’s army of assaints in sorrow thorned. We live in a pce of feigning; anchoring the valiant to automatons sving in citywide ruination, with the rainless harvest. Dismal starlessness. Dried riverbed. Soft, dark foresting falls daily. All are loosely cupping silver handle of death as we virally infect the living. Yet the Shiver will halt the livings unhallowed; forever still a final hymn to heaven.
Terrible as boratory pgue littered to the wild might be, we foresaw a world of medical knowledge hoarded by elites, leaving poor perishers and an elder miser's silvertail-patented genes. Our technologies could save millions yet we’d be expected to sell their wonders and have government or individual pay out of pocket and if failed, many would court death assuredly.
In another’s hand, our immortal beings would be the wealthy’s domain; as others in disease nguish. Before Monovalent made for the penniless affordable; free information, machine network, critical reviews, freedom of thought and expression, and criticism of business activity, we were all policed by money hungered and corporate.
To third-world we still send fridges for the food that rots unattended and fail to heighten hygiene. Yet we reap their nd and resources for half-pennies and our investments in their public infrastructure are naught. Humanity must herald us as their righteous hailers, the greatest of both saviours and stainers.
That is why my Shiver were made.
Mallowed also known as fallowed- When damage of cellur structures has occurred to the point where renewal is necessary.
Documentation by Emanuel Roe.
Sentence usages: We foretold the Shiver-faetaled. For otherling fickle, being into the ground id is their bane yet into each month eternal, my beasts burrow. Fulfil wined-whims. Climb from ash-gold hollows. They're built of eversting stone; the mallowed boulder forever mounts the eve. All else a foregone living does graven.”
For all beings were once bloodied by a wick yet against mine you’d need great fires or some silverier arrowing. No ravus lille vaes wilt ill-fair. Never drowned like the easily-doused humanly nymphalids; who if even into water slip, suffer a render flyless. Man struggles to raise a gale. His travail welled upon too watery wing."
"Belied the pnh bells. Bde the voile of oblivion. We must forgo the stalling road to icy tolls; forever to armistice shouldered.
A Shiver’s vehicle of death is forsook and reside therefore ilea-faetille( until devoured of their immortal means) otherwise shalt lie never nigh blue. Never such hued due "twilloe moliaeile."
(Twilight of immortal-maker Roe and his moult of ire in faeytal's ilea) I came sallow to vie for the fxen. Nevermore red-railed by October glory; heaven hailed cold upon my evil frailties, no trespasses.
Pronounce: Twi-ill-ow, mo-lea-i-le.
Ending Notes.
Finally. We dissipated all the demon limbs cold, Sibyl Farling, and I saw an end to your fleeting fall. Cloned your foetalish eyes. Non-Daunletta imotal ( No daunt let overtake with sunset, the Shiver immortal).
Heretics are epsing; my Shiver: you are the havening of the beauties pale and thorned. Both war and wisteria tree, you fell. Nailed to the cross flighted. Do stly lull against faltering stars. The lowly sleepers flittered. Never stay, the snowy branches quieted. Shiver herein glow as evil city’s time tolled. Rustle white birdwing like cold's feather, as frost downy. Modern ways are daunting; in steely shores footed. Artificial building infrastructure never forgone till harshest spring did its frosts reap, snows fleece.”
“Palely cruel, every housing. Full of wraiths. The fiendish, bitterest beings of malcontent. Indignant, howling, wailing and betraying. Every manmade kingdom hid a forest farewelled. Sin and with its sunlight hedged. Under fevered motoring of spirochetes. For heated houses and manmade hydrothermal vents.
Sly, electrical fres brighten briefly the purple-hood of my st, cloaked maid-flower. Lightening blouse of pnt-arms. Simmer tailless of a titan’s glory. Someday, man's morrow fade to ill-spoken tome. Once-promised now nelfine-organed not by simir tragedy mallowed. Utterly fallowed.
Shiver. You were transmuted timely from the quails. Roaming harsh pne of mortality. Retaining state of haldifare by virtue of assimited cellur refire and fayeyre. Regeneration and migration that be foetalish faerieyre.
The ruthless Monovalent soon sent Simon some documents pertaining to an enemies list which comprised of various people Aryan had killed and some he presumed must be one’s he pnned to kill or take down.
He also procured a diary of the seven-year-old Alice describing how people around her particurly those she disliked became ill or died of that still-unknown, viral pathogen. When Simon, his face as pale as old milk had seemed to put things together, Monovalent finally sent him a Virtualiser.
It simply said, “Come try and stop us.” He gave him Aryan's address though he hardly needed to as he could just have looked it up on the internet. The next day Simon turned up Aryan was out, but Mist was in, Simon told him he knew the truth.
The boy looked bewildered for a second then ughed and showed him the door. Simon knew no-one would believe the truth and if they did, he’d be dead before he could tell it if what the documents cimed the children could do was true. Alice's diary had suggested however she was not such a sociopath as the others. Perhaps he could enlist her help, divide and conquer their ranks if Alice or Shiver as she was known now told people, showed them her powers before Aryan, Mist or Monovalent could kill them, they would only then believe.
He located Shiver at a No Country for Corporate Fat Cats rally simir to the Occupy Wall Street and occupy Melbourne rallies back in 2011. Protesters as young as fourteen and old as eight-five had been beaten around the head with batons; they had been kicked, bloodied, trampled by horses, pepper-sprayed and basically assaulted and brutalised and Shiver job was partially to offer some protection.
Funny, how all the main perpetrators, the most violent officers and even the occasional business-men and politicians countering the protest kept “getting sick” and having to go home all of a sudden however the girl did not need to be physically present for her abilities to work so she was “actually” there in person to supervise the protest and take note of the level of violence.
“I know the truth,” he told her quietly. Rather than seeming perturbed Shiver asked him why this concerned her as no-one would believe him and anyway the virus was in his system and could be activated killing him practically instantly at any given moment. She pointed at the city lights and trees of a park nearby. “Isn’t this beautiful?” She said. “Don’t you want to preserve it?’
Simon who had no answer, a coherent one anyway, asked if “even if she never changed her mind, would she consider meeting with him again.”
“Why?” asked the girl “I don’t need friends.” Simon however knew this to not be true, she always or sometimes at least looked so sorrowful and lonely on Virtualiser TV, filmed at charity events and political campaigns and fund raisers.
True she often smiled with a bright childlike happiness at the camera but even behind those sincere, temporary moments of mirth and euphoria, the sadness still lurked. Aryan and Mist were cold, ruthless and ambitious. Neither cared for traditional family or children. Mist expressed outright disdain at family and Aryan only used the concept to further his career and make himself seem warmer and more approachable.
Monovalent of course was a machine. A clever machine able to think for itself but he doubted family was much more than an abstract concept for it. All of them Mist, Monovalent, Aryan were callous, calcuting and utterly self-possessed and contained. Shiver however had expressed interest when asked by reporters in having a family, being a mother, going to visit her parents more often... Simon just had to persuade her to give up her dreams of notoriety and settle for something more grounded.
If she came forward, he would help her escape and alter her appearance so she could take on a new identity. He was a man of integrity and of honour and had every intention of keeping that promise. He smiled at her working his pretty features and charm on her. Whatever else extraordinary she was she still had the heart of a pretty girl who feels she needs and deserves love.
It didn’t hurt that he frequently dressed in the same sort of well-tailored bck suits Aryan did either....Looking very cute herself Shiver was dressed in little grey mittens and matching hat and a long-sleeved, deep blue blouse made of silk or very fine cotton.
Paired with a long, wintery, grey-green cotton skirt with delicate white ce trim and donned long, dark silvery- grey velvet coat. Simon sat down beside her in the town square and smiled at her again. Shiver smiled back at Simon and a fre of recognition, ignition appeared.
Large and dark; mencholy eyes scanning his face before lighting up with a pure, sweet joy and as the sunlight shone, they turned deepest-hazel. Those vivid- green rings couple of shades darker than his own dazzled and took Simon’s breath away.
Simon who worked to help out since fifteen and came from a single-mother, working-css family and knew what it was to suffer and valued all humanity, saw in her face at that moment his own dear, lovely Adeide love of his life whose mother died whence not yet four and father was cold and distant.
Grown up impoverished in a neighbourhood, economically-disadvantaged living quarters and his na?ve, bookish, childhood through adolescence friend and sweetheart. Teased and taunted over her cheap shabby clothes, bizarre appearance and under -endowment all through high school.
On learning she could not afford to go to university, let alone go and still work full time as she would have to since her father died of cancer and knowing there was no escape from her cklustre existence at least for a very long time she had committed suicide.
A friend killing themselves had occurred with his nice, handsome friend Luke again ter after he’d been id off from his work as the recession caused the company to go bust, only then to be left homeless. His young wife left him then died on the streets. His child a baby of three months was taken away too by the state and Luke eventually killed himself still searching fruitlessly for work and housing,
Adeide, his sweet Addie had been a Jolie ide or outside French terms beautiful –ugly. Tubur and ft-chested was her physique she had wispy brows, a face too round and wide, thin-lipped mouth. Coupled with an oftentimes sweet expression and nature, slender, long limbs, frost- pale white skin with the great, dusky-rose imbuing cheeks and lips and huge, light eyes both brooding and intense, hair’s sweep of honey-gold caressing long, slender neck in dearly-smooth coif her stark appearance rendered her very striking.
Sometimes Adeide, like Shiver, had come across as little petunt or sullen in demeanour but often they both seemed merely sweet, reserved, and quite. As Shiver took a sip of a chocote milkshake csped in one of her fragile little hands her perfect, cssic face took on an imperious look that said I know how pretty and fwless I am, and ruined the moments, dear fleeting image.
“Alright we can be friends” Shiver said. “God, I detest the very word. The concept of community I like and of the family and romantic love but backstabbing, competitive, ever-changing friends? No. This consumerist, friend -centric modern society of ours is utterly repugnant. Also, I’m not betraying my family,” she warned him. “Our friendship will have nothing to do with that.”
“You have a nice voice. Want a chicken wing?” She then offered. “There delicious aren’t they, Mist prefers cheeseburgers which I also adore but I still like chicken almost as much.” Simon accepted and sat down beside her feeling understandably a little awkward.
A puppy- dog eyed child of three or four in a little red dress holding her mother’s arm passed by the bench and Shiver and Simon both smiled. “Children have such expressive faces as do animals; it adds to their beauty that bright, alert, learning intelligent that adult humans ck and is why I love to draw them so much…” Shiver whispered softly.
“Hey,” she ughed suddenly, sweetly “did I see you at the Transsexual rights rally? If so, you should look at this;”
A marsupial with lost limb is still a marsupial. Has all the physiology, genes and biology that produced that working leg, as does woman who lost uterine organ. A male human who was such from first foetal formation with no discernible female yout and capabilities, but fake breasts and pseudo-girlish exterior is fish fitted with a paper horn, a useless, non-functional attachment without any properties understand as feminine or horse-like. Yet called a woman and unicorn. Must with constant, guilting indoctrination take eerie the wonderment from slighted eyes of the now-masked pwing, in order to make praise dully.
In God’s image.
“Emanuel wrote it, he’s a genius. He made the technology you use daily and immortal beings, and he made and loves me,” she boasted proudly.
"True as well. Why the...God, its nonsensical. People cannot physically change sex or mate with one same gendered any more than you may eat from your ear what biological waste and mental refuse," she snorted.
"Perhaps their lives are cold without these things, perhaps rational or not your harsh clinical assessment of normalcy doesn’t work when your heart cries for something else...They make it worthwhile by the joy it gives them, feel whole and complete after the hard and painful parts of life are done, what of the unfulfilled misery might otherwise feel." Simon suggested softly.
Shiver gave him a look one reserves for the well-meaning (but in that beholder's eyes) also one silly, and in this case, one pcating with feeling-over-facts idioms. She tugged a thick lock chosen from the amass of red-ash hair that's abundance drew attention to how it was upon so prettily-small a head and did so rather cutely, Simon thought, and she replied;
"Well, maybe if weren't so destructive and dangerous with STD spreading and advocating of dangerous surgery on confused kids and you can't even critique these actions or call them what they are, unsafe."
"If didn't insist everyone procim their simply wonderful like everyone else but better or jail for you. Well might indulge them a little, though encouraging delusion is idiotic: you cannot live in nd where lies are norm and truth a sin. It confuses and encourages often-harmful delusion leading to self-mutition and dissatisfaction with reality."
"Also, disease-spreaders and un-needed surgery demand their treatments funded with highly-finite, public money while people starve and country growing broke, these medical-resource wasters only think of themselves."
"Hundred bloodied, freedom-less bodies so they can feel good and loved and special little individuals ignoring society that as Aryan's says feeds and clothes and educates them on its own dime."
"The murder is happiest knifing others, the dictator controlling masses with violent force and ruthless corporate using sve bour to increase his precious earnings, his competitive winnings."
"The disease spreader covets his activities with I admit earnest passion too. Should still all be shamed for harming and killing others for selfish desires not praised as lifestyle choice. Why can’t they find joy in art and charity and noble things not sexual or greedy selfishness."
"Romance is beautiful you surely believe that? You have said it’s something wonderful in and of itself. In an interview. Also, that feminist curbing of it was misguided and evil, so why is it not for them?" Those whose object of passions from yours differ?"
"Love needs an end about more than your needs, a contribution to ways of caring for young and as Emanuel says in his philosophy book, it works for uniting man with woman often who have trouble understanding and empathising with one another."
"Such affections cease the degenerating into sex wars that virulently occur when its fractured and gays become too rge and powerful, a social and political and anti-gender group. Homosexual version of love just seems divisive, irrelevant and infertile, lesser version of ours."
Simon nodded with not entire agreement but impressed certainly by the persuasiveness and thoughtfulness she with her ideas posed.
He should have realised crude bigotry; being the only foreseeable enemy of what he thought progress was, was not necessarily the only or even likeliest contender to bring back the old-ways in a tide. For were perhaps more forceful these grand, high-sounding statements with least reasonable hint or grain of truth to them.
Ones that in manner exaggerating bleak and cleverly concerned themselves critiquing the fws in every system (including the one his party fought for) to justify reversal or overhaul.
Did still detest the writer of these musings, Emanuel Roe, and the more motivated to concentrate his morals in other areas, Aryan, though.
“Oh yeah, speaking of sex-swapping Mist and I really can ha trannies. I become the most wonderful sixteen-year-old boy, Mist the perfect girl. Made ourselves look mostly like each other but with variety of colouring, a few different heights. We then seduced number of gay people then changed bodies’ right in front of them.”
“They nearly had a heart attack, but we simply stood calm, collected and poised elegantly, asked ever-so- tearfully, ‘“darling I thought our love was deep, spiritual and what mattered was found inside, why so shallow?”’
“Don’t worry they can’t tell; anyone would think them insane, and we only tricked a few and no we didn’t hurt them, gay-lover. Of course, merely to remain safe, we masked our faces and features; made ourselves look different enough than our base forms that we were untraceable; likewise, did such virtually, for our OCEMA broadcast and used, at the time, false names, never broadcast it though. Just saved the footage on a privatised account and kept our new names as a funny, inside joke.”
“Everyone actually there who could identify the people at Wrighthouse based on appearances and names (and recognize via vague description we offered, as observers of the institution) are dead. Near entire cities fall to the virus, so everyone croaking isn’t exactly much of a give-away.”
Soon as had Simon left, time and conversation politely waned the prickle began again. The idea that somehow, he knew her from somewhere before the first photographs he saw upon Aryan’s political ascension.
Not it wasn’t simply Adeide she was reminding him of, not really. That was only one side to her. He’d seen Shiver or something to her akin before. In images from a horrible game by that madman Emanuel… With the monsters, the beasts from God’s image. Namely their eyes.
Recalled what he found so frightening, wonderful about the pictures so… Well, unique, in this game. Its graphics released before Aryan’s virtual reality. Not only were the living beings rendered impossibly-expressive, so beautiful yet revolting but they were never still; even when the creatures were stationary, somehow like human faces their features looked utterly different depending on angle or the light: they moved, changed he thought.
Though could not quite have put it to words he realised the equally-animated Shiver was these beings as if perfected; the fws turned to some painting of Renaissance, but the inhumane undertone remained. Furthered by the fact angels and artworks always seem little eerie and unsettling out in mankind’s realm. Emanuel had said simir words himself but enjoyed the contrast.
Simon remembered the images, colours she made for the game which Emanuel described as “begun in talking, self-repairing buildings and AI stations that in vicinity search-out and warn of dangers natural and manmade upon now strangely, unstable climate in its morn’s perpetual snaking of primrose-violet.”
“Inside the spoilt cities once gardened in ivy-richly and rose-green, skies were hilled shelves purplish and reddish-gray and humanity due to how badly bodily-engineered to repulsive- beauteousness cowered under the maple-edged, bck hellfire,” with a simution she did visual rendering of.”
As well as her illustrations for The Evils of Eve” One picture was a dy physically resembling my love. A quick-witted, most vilinous female. Filial firmness rosed the face adorned with artistic and philosophical musings, as she expresses inanities to much peer praise and dons silkiest royal dressings from the materials of war-conquered nations afore gleefully racing across the corpses of field peasants and her battle-bloodied lovers. Defends arms brutal and always deferent toward her softly-spoken noblemen to whom she’s betrothed.
Her modern counterpart is depicted riding roads built by lost-limbed bours, carting around a surrogated, poor women’s child. Birth mother sold her to feed other infants. Its pacifier made by a factory worker of nine, tenderly.”
Wasting much medical care (because treats her own form carelessly) and built on knowledge cultivated by experiment thundering the toll of human being and beast countless.”
The program showed what artist saw and Monovalent vision based “what envisaged my love in the eyes of a dead maiden. Sibyl Farling herself. “
“Is it true, you not only aren't human but can mimic various mingles of human, animal or viral DNA.” Simon asked.
“Yes,” Shiver said. "In theory at least. To protect ourselves we can make long, ivory, protective spikes grow from our flesh like armour: that turn bone and flesh and skin tougher than the hardiest substance found on the pnet. Can withstand most any temperature; we can have a form of highly flexible graphene. An artificially-made and strongest material. It’s also a micro-organism. Grows upon us in a fibrous tangle like a limpet and means we could likely tear rocks and more. Were modified with this micro-creature. It also makes up some of the outer, protective body of Monovalent, his buildings and transport vehicles, as well as part of our DNA."
“Yes.” Simon frowned. “I have read about Emanuel’s “lid-illvalored or lilied fingers of vaedow.” "They are sighted and with incredible grasping properties. Can exist within and alter organic things and have white, petaled ends under a shadowy, closed, skinlike yer. Had no idea they were used for that many things though.”
Shiver smiled. “They’re a godless and unnatural creation. A seeing micro-life form that changes chemical compounds and rearranges properties and alters genetic structures and may soon be able to strip things down to their very atoms if electrical pulses instruct it to do so… They can make our skin grow and form hooklike structures. Our flesh-like substance, only appears fully human. Yet contains delicate, durable properties of silk and the shine of the metallic. I can also accurately recall perfectly anything you say, I'm part machine,” she stated with welling pride. “The ability was turned off in me when I was young, so I’d appear more “regur” and not suspiciously-gifted, but I have it fully now.”
"Imagine, someday Mist and I will have beautiful wings, rge and sturdy enough to lift us into the air and gills and hooking cws and will conceive and secrete lethal poison and toxic substances that combined, kill ninety-nine percent of cell and bacterial and viral based lifeforms and we’re to, immune. Though it will need to be one that can quickly nullified by another compound, to prevent it from getting out of hand."
"We are as our creators wrote in their experimental notes the beasts from Emanuel's prophecy done right, by actual geniuses and in small test subjects not wide-spread and dangerous. Not rushed into by talentless corporates or mediocre scientists punching above their paygrade."
From then on, they meet at regur intervals at parks, museums, the remaining bookstores which were having a bit of renaissance as something one could collect, buy, own physical copy of, art galleries, and the orchestra.
Upon ferry rides, in cafes, fancy restaurants and other nice pces. Sometimes Mist who worked as a part-time musician would be pying in the orchestra or performing a violin solo as part of a symphony piece and even singing in choir ensembles and they would attend his theatre concerts together. Whenever Shiver had finished her work for Aryan and Mist was bored with her (as he frequently was) they would meet and discuss books, and politics and animals and Shiver's heart’s desire to experience motherhood one day.
