Gaining Strength [Part 4]
Jun. 20th, 2020 11:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esp_dragonv2Fandom: Noblesse
Summary: Frankenstein needs to gain strength to protect humanity; the werewolves might hold the key to that.
Contains: Dead bodies
Notes: Frankenstein decides werewolves are the bigger threat AU.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Word count: 2,261
Total word count: 8,720
Status: Work in progress
The smell of rotting meat grew the closer to the medical wing Frankenstein got. No-one else seemed to react to it, talking with each other or moving from room to room, and it must have been his enhanced sense of smell again.
It was easy to track down where the source of the smell was, but Frankenstein paused when he opened the door, fury dissipating.
Four bodies occupied the beds. He could tell by their pallor they were dead, but... That wasn't what drew his eye.
Their cheeks were sunken, as if they had been starved, and hair was creeping in towards their nose in distinct triangular shapes.
And their hands...
Frankenstein took a shuddering breath. Their hands were lined with fur, their nails sharp.
"Mm, Frankenstein? What are you doing here?" Osbern was on the other side of his room, inspecting one of the bodies.
"What am I doing here?" Frankenstein hissed, glaring at Osbern, fury returning to him. "What are you doing here? What's this I hear that I am working with you, that our work has failed, that people have died."
Osbern snorted, rolling his eyes. "They were vagrants, no-one of importance."
No-one of importance? "They were people," Frankenstein said, curling his hands into fists. "Our work is meant to help them, not kill them!"
"Exactly!" Osbern said, nodding. "If only a few deaths that are needed to find out how everyone can benefit from our work, it will be worth it."
Frankenstein sucked in a breath as his blood roared in his ears, pain stabbing into his palms. Dammit, not now.
"Our work," Frankenstein repeated, trying to calm his thoughts, but his claws continued to dig into his palms. "And when did it become 'our' work when I had never given you any of my research?"
Osbern pursed his lips. "We are working towards helping humanity, yet you work by yourself and for what? So that you can gain all the prestige when you reveal your work to the rest of the world? You only tested it on one person - and as I've clearly shown, it isn't ready for everyone else yet."
"I'd never said it was," Frankenstein said quietly. And he had never wanted his name known - he worked to help humanity. Was that why Osbern had stolen his work? To be known?
"Then work with me!" Osbern said intently, coming closer. "Your work is good, but it's unfinished. If we can figure out why it didn't work with these vagrants, then we'll be one step closer to helping humanity."
Was...this worth it? Everything about Frankenstein buzzed, making it hard to think. He'd done everything to help humanity, but was this the cost? People had to die so that others could live, and not just because he was too slow?
"I've already got a few more rounded up and coming in," Osbern continued, "so we can get started straight away." He peered at Frankenstein. "Are you all right? You're not normally this quiet."
"Ah, yes," Frankenstein said, taking a breath. It was going to happen again. "You're right." Soon. "This is to benefit humanity. I ah, have more notes at home."
Osbern broke out into a wide smile. "So that's why your notes didn't make sense - they were incomplete!"
His work had been stolen from under his nose, and he'd never noticed. Frankenstein smiled back. "I'll go collect them right now."
"I look forward to working with you," Osbern said as Frankenstein turned on his heel and left.
How had he never noticed? His journal was constantly in his presence, and yet he'd never noticed when it had been taken from him, or returned.
Because he'd never looked. He hadn't needed it again after he moved on.
He'd assumed the only danger he needed to protect himself from was from werewolves and nobles, not his fellow alchemists.
How could he have been so foolish?
Frankenstein felt his nails recede and the transmutation left him winded, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other. His palms were slick with blood and he only hoped that his fists would keep them in place and that he wouldn't create a trail behind him.
A trail that Osbern could use with his new round of experiments.
He tightened his hands into fists so hard his arms shook. He could feel his body trying to transmute but he didn't have enough energy for it.
Hah. Even know, he was gaining knowledge. He couldn't transmute so soon after exhausting himself.
He went to his room, picking up his journals and dagger. He found the piece of cloth he used to wipe down his desk and cleaned his palms with it before leaving.
Getting a carriage was easy and he sagged in his seat, feeling the familiar sway as it moved. But he couldn't rest, no matter how much he wanted to.
He needed to think of what he was going to do now.
* * *
The ride back home was both over far too quickly and dragged as if they'd been travelling through mud the entire time.
Frankenstein checked his house once he was inside. He didn't find anything, but he hadn't expected to - he hadn't noticed anything wrong with his room in the Union, and his own home could be the same.
He dropped his shoulders and slowly went to his bookshelf, seeing the wealth of knowledge he had gathered and discovered over the years.
Had these been looked through by someone he didn't know? Was someone else using the information without his knowledge?
Were more people being hurt because of his research? Dying?
Frankenstein shuddered and started pulling his books down, throwing them into a pile.
His heart was heavy as he set them alight, the journals catching easily.
He couldn't let his work be used to hurt others.
Frankenstein turned away when he was sure all the journals were burning. He needed to get ready.
There wasn't much left he needed in his home: coins, some food and an extra set of clothes.
He hesitated when his eyes fell upon the silver shackles. Would he see werewolves?
He didn't know. It would be better to be prepared.
When he picked them up with a cloth wrapped around his hand, he let out a short huff. He remembered the heft they'd had when he'd first carried them.
They now almost felt the same weight as one of his journals.
He was stronger than he was before.
That was something to note later, when he was somewhere safer.
Wherever that was.
Frankenstein packed away the rest of the items he needed. He checked on the fire, prodding at it with a poker just to make sure it was burning thoroughly and then stole into the night.
How long did he have? Osbern was slow-witted, but even he would become suspicious when Frankenstein didn't return after a few hours.
Hopefully that would be enough to gain enough of a lead.
* * *
Would he be able to hide from the Union? They had eyes everywhere and they would be displeased he'd ran instead of helping them continue to use people for experiments.
Keeping moving should help, for a while.
Frankenstein changed direction each time he arrived somewhere new, but he eventually stopped in a little village to the south-east.
He needed food after the last journey and he scanned the market for something to eat.
He ignored most of the hawkers' calls with ease but he was drawn to a stall selling fruits.
"Oooh, it's dangerous to be travelling now," the old woman said as she watched him pick out what he wanted.
It was always dangerous with werewolves and vampires roaming the lands. He smiled at her. "It's daylight now, so I'll be safe from vampires in the very least." He'd been attacked by werewolves when the sun was down as well - maybe they didn't like it as much either. Though he hadn't noticed a reaction to sunlight yet. Yet. There was still time.
"Not from them, from one of our own!" she exclaimed. "There's a dangerous criminal on the loose," she said, shivering. "Stealing people from the streets and sacrificing them. Trying to get the power of the gods, he is."
Frankenstein frowned. Why did that...
She shook her head. "They say he even succeeded, turning into a golden monster. What was his name again? Franken...? Something like that."
Frankenstein controlled his breathing as he listened to her, still picking out a few fruits. "Yes, he does sound dangerous." It had only been a few days, and yet rumours had spread faster than he had travelled? "Thank you for the warning," he said as he exchanged money for her goods.
"You be safe now!"
He walked away, resisting the urge to pull up his hood. That would be suspicious, especially with the sun so warm overhead.
Well. Now he knew what the Union did with deserters. He didn't want to find out what they would do if they caught him.
Frankenstein eyed someone loading up their horse-drawn cart. Normally he would have asked for a ride, but that seemed too risky now.
Would he be able to outrun a horse though? When word travelled so much faster?
Without a ride he would be able to go places less travelled and hide better. Better than he originally was.
He would need to gather a few more items before he left, and hope that the rumours didn't go into more detail of what he looked like.
* * *
The trees were a blur as Frankenstein ran. He didn't know if he was faster than a horse, but it certainly felt like it.
He swore as he tripped over a root, sending him sprawling.
He lay there, gazing up at the sky, counting his breaths and checking his heartrate. Before, jogging down the street would leave him winded but now...
Well. He had no measurements he could record, but he had travelled much further and faster than he used to.
The only difficulty he was having was that he couldn't keep up with what was happening. He could see the tree or the roots, but by the time he acknowledged they were there, he had already ran into them.
He closed his eyes, huffing a small laugh. His enhanced healing took care for the scrapes at least. Hm.
He got to his feet and dusted himself off, checking he hadn't dropped anything, before sprinting away again. He would have another small break the next time he fell.
* * *
Frankenstein gazed up at the starry sky above before returning his focus to the crackling fire.
Was he further than he would have been if he'd riden? He was for sure off the beaten track now. But would keeping on the move help? As soon as he went anywhere populated, there was a chance someone could recognise him from the rumours.
Words were twisted with each retelling and so would his appearance. There would be many different versions of him already.
It would be better to be cautious. Who knew who would hear the version closest to the truth.
The blade reflected the camp fire as he bunched up his hair behind his head.
The blade sliced cleanly through his hair.
Hm.
His head felt lighter.
He would need to neaten it la... Would he? Maybe it would be better if he kept it unkempt. He would need to listen to the rumours to see how they described him before he decided.
Frankenstein threw the hair into the fire, and they burned immediately. Better to not leave any trace of him anywhere.
That task taken care of, Frankenstein turned his thoughts on where to go.
Where could he go that the Union couldn't track him? Nowhere.
The Union had connections everywhere, clearly. And word travelled fast. He would eventually be found.
Was there anywhere the Union wouldn't think to keep an eye on? Wouldn't dare to go?
Frankenstein frowned.
He knew of two places where even the Union didn't dare to tread: the lands of the 'gods'.
They didn't dare to go their sacred lands, only sending messages, asking for aid.
Well.
For nobles at least - werewolves didn't respond to appeals.
It was said that nobles would help humanity whenever they crossed paths; Frankenstein hadn't seen much evidence of that but they might grant him some kind of protection if he went to them.
Werewolves however...
The land of the werewolves was forbidden to travel to, under any circumstances. It was too dangerous.
Staying there should mean the Union couldn't track or follow him there.
And if he was there, he could gather up more information about werewolves, rather than the late scraps he'd been getting over the years.
...As if he would get reports of werewolf attacks now.
And maybe, he would be able to find a way to stop werewolves from attacking humans there as well.
Yes. That was where he would head next.
Act 1 finally done, and Frankenstein finally actually heads to the werewolf territory! XD Jeez, so much set up, ahahaha.
Summary: Frankenstein needs to gain strength to protect humanity; the werewolves might hold the key to that.
Contains: Dead bodies
Notes: Frankenstein decides werewolves are the bigger threat AU.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Word count: 2,261
Total word count: 8,720
Status: Work in progress
The smell of rotting meat grew the closer to the medical wing Frankenstein got. No-one else seemed to react to it, talking with each other or moving from room to room, and it must have been his enhanced sense of smell again.
It was easy to track down where the source of the smell was, but Frankenstein paused when he opened the door, fury dissipating.
Four bodies occupied the beds. He could tell by their pallor they were dead, but... That wasn't what drew his eye.
Their cheeks were sunken, as if they had been starved, and hair was creeping in towards their nose in distinct triangular shapes.
And their hands...
Frankenstein took a shuddering breath. Their hands were lined with fur, their nails sharp.
"Mm, Frankenstein? What are you doing here?" Osbern was on the other side of his room, inspecting one of the bodies.
"What am I doing here?" Frankenstein hissed, glaring at Osbern, fury returning to him. "What are you doing here? What's this I hear that I am working with you, that our work has failed, that people have died."
Osbern snorted, rolling his eyes. "They were vagrants, no-one of importance."
No-one of importance? "They were people," Frankenstein said, curling his hands into fists. "Our work is meant to help them, not kill them!"
"Exactly!" Osbern said, nodding. "If only a few deaths that are needed to find out how everyone can benefit from our work, it will be worth it."
Frankenstein sucked in a breath as his blood roared in his ears, pain stabbing into his palms. Dammit, not now.
"Our work," Frankenstein repeated, trying to calm his thoughts, but his claws continued to dig into his palms. "And when did it become 'our' work when I had never given you any of my research?"
Osbern pursed his lips. "We are working towards helping humanity, yet you work by yourself and for what? So that you can gain all the prestige when you reveal your work to the rest of the world? You only tested it on one person - and as I've clearly shown, it isn't ready for everyone else yet."
"I'd never said it was," Frankenstein said quietly. And he had never wanted his name known - he worked to help humanity. Was that why Osbern had stolen his work? To be known?
"Then work with me!" Osbern said intently, coming closer. "Your work is good, but it's unfinished. If we can figure out why it didn't work with these vagrants, then we'll be one step closer to helping humanity."
Was...this worth it? Everything about Frankenstein buzzed, making it hard to think. He'd done everything to help humanity, but was this the cost? People had to die so that others could live, and not just because he was too slow?
"I've already got a few more rounded up and coming in," Osbern continued, "so we can get started straight away." He peered at Frankenstein. "Are you all right? You're not normally this quiet."
"Ah, yes," Frankenstein said, taking a breath. It was going to happen again. "You're right." Soon. "This is to benefit humanity. I ah, have more notes at home."
Osbern broke out into a wide smile. "So that's why your notes didn't make sense - they were incomplete!"
His work had been stolen from under his nose, and he'd never noticed. Frankenstein smiled back. "I'll go collect them right now."
"I look forward to working with you," Osbern said as Frankenstein turned on his heel and left.
How had he never noticed? His journal was constantly in his presence, and yet he'd never noticed when it had been taken from him, or returned.
Because he'd never looked. He hadn't needed it again after he moved on.
He'd assumed the only danger he needed to protect himself from was from werewolves and nobles, not his fellow alchemists.
How could he have been so foolish?
Frankenstein felt his nails recede and the transmutation left him winded, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other. His palms were slick with blood and he only hoped that his fists would keep them in place and that he wouldn't create a trail behind him.
A trail that Osbern could use with his new round of experiments.
He tightened his hands into fists so hard his arms shook. He could feel his body trying to transmute but he didn't have enough energy for it.
Hah. Even know, he was gaining knowledge. He couldn't transmute so soon after exhausting himself.
He went to his room, picking up his journals and dagger. He found the piece of cloth he used to wipe down his desk and cleaned his palms with it before leaving.
Getting a carriage was easy and he sagged in his seat, feeling the familiar sway as it moved. But he couldn't rest, no matter how much he wanted to.
He needed to think of what he was going to do now.
The ride back home was both over far too quickly and dragged as if they'd been travelling through mud the entire time.
Frankenstein checked his house once he was inside. He didn't find anything, but he hadn't expected to - he hadn't noticed anything wrong with his room in the Union, and his own home could be the same.
He dropped his shoulders and slowly went to his bookshelf, seeing the wealth of knowledge he had gathered and discovered over the years.
Had these been looked through by someone he didn't know? Was someone else using the information without his knowledge?
Were more people being hurt because of his research? Dying?
Frankenstein shuddered and started pulling his books down, throwing them into a pile.
His heart was heavy as he set them alight, the journals catching easily.
He couldn't let his work be used to hurt others.
Frankenstein turned away when he was sure all the journals were burning. He needed to get ready.
There wasn't much left he needed in his home: coins, some food and an extra set of clothes.
He hesitated when his eyes fell upon the silver shackles. Would he see werewolves?
He didn't know. It would be better to be prepared.
When he picked them up with a cloth wrapped around his hand, he let out a short huff. He remembered the heft they'd had when he'd first carried them.
They now almost felt the same weight as one of his journals.
He was stronger than he was before.
That was something to note later, when he was somewhere safer.
Wherever that was.
Frankenstein packed away the rest of the items he needed. He checked on the fire, prodding at it with a poker just to make sure it was burning thoroughly and then stole into the night.
How long did he have? Osbern was slow-witted, but even he would become suspicious when Frankenstein didn't return after a few hours.
Hopefully that would be enough to gain enough of a lead.
Would he be able to hide from the Union? They had eyes everywhere and they would be displeased he'd ran instead of helping them continue to use people for experiments.
Keeping moving should help, for a while.
Frankenstein changed direction each time he arrived somewhere new, but he eventually stopped in a little village to the south-east.
He needed food after the last journey and he scanned the market for something to eat.
He ignored most of the hawkers' calls with ease but he was drawn to a stall selling fruits.
"Oooh, it's dangerous to be travelling now," the old woman said as she watched him pick out what he wanted.
It was always dangerous with werewolves and vampires roaming the lands. He smiled at her. "It's daylight now, so I'll be safe from vampires in the very least." He'd been attacked by werewolves when the sun was down as well - maybe they didn't like it as much either. Though he hadn't noticed a reaction to sunlight yet. Yet. There was still time.
"Not from them, from one of our own!" she exclaimed. "There's a dangerous criminal on the loose," she said, shivering. "Stealing people from the streets and sacrificing them. Trying to get the power of the gods, he is."
Frankenstein frowned. Why did that...
She shook her head. "They say he even succeeded, turning into a golden monster. What was his name again? Franken...? Something like that."
Frankenstein controlled his breathing as he listened to her, still picking out a few fruits. "Yes, he does sound dangerous." It had only been a few days, and yet rumours had spread faster than he had travelled? "Thank you for the warning," he said as he exchanged money for her goods.
"You be safe now!"
He walked away, resisting the urge to pull up his hood. That would be suspicious, especially with the sun so warm overhead.
Well. Now he knew what the Union did with deserters. He didn't want to find out what they would do if they caught him.
Frankenstein eyed someone loading up their horse-drawn cart. Normally he would have asked for a ride, but that seemed too risky now.
Would he be able to outrun a horse though? When word travelled so much faster?
Without a ride he would be able to go places less travelled and hide better. Better than he originally was.
He would need to gather a few more items before he left, and hope that the rumours didn't go into more detail of what he looked like.
The trees were a blur as Frankenstein ran. He didn't know if he was faster than a horse, but it certainly felt like it.
He swore as he tripped over a root, sending him sprawling.
He lay there, gazing up at the sky, counting his breaths and checking his heartrate. Before, jogging down the street would leave him winded but now...
Well. He had no measurements he could record, but he had travelled much further and faster than he used to.
The only difficulty he was having was that he couldn't keep up with what was happening. He could see the tree or the roots, but by the time he acknowledged they were there, he had already ran into them.
He closed his eyes, huffing a small laugh. His enhanced healing took care for the scrapes at least. Hm.
He got to his feet and dusted himself off, checking he hadn't dropped anything, before sprinting away again. He would have another small break the next time he fell.
Frankenstein gazed up at the starry sky above before returning his focus to the crackling fire.
Was he further than he would have been if he'd riden? He was for sure off the beaten track now. But would keeping on the move help? As soon as he went anywhere populated, there was a chance someone could recognise him from the rumours.
Words were twisted with each retelling and so would his appearance. There would be many different versions of him already.
It would be better to be cautious. Who knew who would hear the version closest to the truth.
The blade reflected the camp fire as he bunched up his hair behind his head.
The blade sliced cleanly through his hair.
Hm.
His head felt lighter.
He would need to neaten it la... Would he? Maybe it would be better if he kept it unkempt. He would need to listen to the rumours to see how they described him before he decided.
Frankenstein threw the hair into the fire, and they burned immediately. Better to not leave any trace of him anywhere.
That task taken care of, Frankenstein turned his thoughts on where to go.
Where could he go that the Union couldn't track him? Nowhere.
The Union had connections everywhere, clearly. And word travelled fast. He would eventually be found.
Was there anywhere the Union wouldn't think to keep an eye on? Wouldn't dare to go?
Frankenstein frowned.
He knew of two places where even the Union didn't dare to tread: the lands of the 'gods'.
They didn't dare to go their sacred lands, only sending messages, asking for aid.
Well.
For nobles at least - werewolves didn't respond to appeals.
It was said that nobles would help humanity whenever they crossed paths; Frankenstein hadn't seen much evidence of that but they might grant him some kind of protection if he went to them.
Werewolves however...
The land of the werewolves was forbidden to travel to, under any circumstances. It was too dangerous.
Staying there should mean the Union couldn't track or follow him there.
And if he was there, he could gather up more information about werewolves, rather than the late scraps he'd been getting over the years.
...As if he would get reports of werewolf attacks now.
And maybe, he would be able to find a way to stop werewolves from attacking humans there as well.
Yes. That was where he would head next.
Act 1 finally done, and Frankenstein finally actually heads to the werewolf territory! XD Jeez, so much set up, ahahaha.