Sinister, ficlet, "Questionable Methodology"
I've recently started writing for Mr. Sinister over at Theatrical_muse! Each week, I respond to topics as they relate to my character.
The topic this week was:
What about society would your character like to change?
When he submits articles for publication, he rarely ever uses his proper name. At least, he never used to, but the name Nathaniel Essex has faded into obscurity and he does not think that the X-Men will pick up the Journal of Advancements in Genetic Theory and discover his secret, that he writes scientific articles in his spare time.
Of course, it isn't as if he's been published in said journals in the recent past. Mostly, he receives a very polite letter calling his methods "immoral" and his experiments "criminal." It isn't as if Sinister disagrees with this, precisely, but he finds it irrelevant. Isn't all that should matter the theory, the findings? Has he not contributed greatly to the field of evolutionary advancement?
After all, Sinister discovered the X-Gene long before they even knew what to call it. He foresaw the coming of mutants, and he was mocked and refused funding based on his principles.
Principles do not get results, do not produce findings. He does, but to what avail? No one will read his works, no one will appreciate the genius behind his questionable and possibly criminally dangerous methodology.
Sinister reads the latest of these letters, and for a moment he hates that all interpersonal correspondence is being shunted off to the cold white glow of a computer screen. He would like to hold this letter in his hand, curl his fingers around it and feel the paper crumple. Now instead, he takes out his ire with a click of the mouse and a small checkmark to delete the message from his inbox forever, sending it out into the ether where it will fade and vanish.
It amazes him, somewhat, that the world glides along and becomes more and more impersonal, yet he is condemned for his scientific experiments. If he was given one wish to change society to fit his own ends, it would be that this trend of impersonalization would continue so that he no longer had to hide behind aliases and psychic fronts and phony methodology.
He wishes that everyone would understand that antiquated notions of good and evil are merely roadblocks to discovery.
Sinister switches off his computer and goes back into his laboratory. The body is beginning to decay, and he shall need a fresh one soon. It is not as easy as it once was to find cadavers, which will require making other plans in order to keep him in a steady supply of subjects.
A mad scientist's work is never done.
Sinister laughs and heads downstairs.
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Other Sinister-ficlets are Sinister Versus Modernity and Dance
The topic this week was:
What about society would your character like to change?
When he submits articles for publication, he rarely ever uses his proper name. At least, he never used to, but the name Nathaniel Essex has faded into obscurity and he does not think that the X-Men will pick up the Journal of Advancements in Genetic Theory and discover his secret, that he writes scientific articles in his spare time.
Of course, it isn't as if he's been published in said journals in the recent past. Mostly, he receives a very polite letter calling his methods "immoral" and his experiments "criminal." It isn't as if Sinister disagrees with this, precisely, but he finds it irrelevant. Isn't all that should matter the theory, the findings? Has he not contributed greatly to the field of evolutionary advancement?
After all, Sinister discovered the X-Gene long before they even knew what to call it. He foresaw the coming of mutants, and he was mocked and refused funding based on his principles.
Principles do not get results, do not produce findings. He does, but to what avail? No one will read his works, no one will appreciate the genius behind his questionable and possibly criminally dangerous methodology.
Sinister reads the latest of these letters, and for a moment he hates that all interpersonal correspondence is being shunted off to the cold white glow of a computer screen. He would like to hold this letter in his hand, curl his fingers around it and feel the paper crumple. Now instead, he takes out his ire with a click of the mouse and a small checkmark to delete the message from his inbox forever, sending it out into the ether where it will fade and vanish.
It amazes him, somewhat, that the world glides along and becomes more and more impersonal, yet he is condemned for his scientific experiments. If he was given one wish to change society to fit his own ends, it would be that this trend of impersonalization would continue so that he no longer had to hide behind aliases and psychic fronts and phony methodology.
He wishes that everyone would understand that antiquated notions of good and evil are merely roadblocks to discovery.
Sinister switches off his computer and goes back into his laboratory. The body is beginning to decay, and he shall need a fresh one soon. It is not as easy as it once was to find cadavers, which will require making other plans in order to keep him in a steady supply of subjects.
A mad scientist's work is never done.
Sinister laughs and heads downstairs.
_________________________________________________________________
Other Sinister-ficlets are Sinister Versus Modernity and Dance