The problems with hominid physiology

[socialistinsect.livejournal.com]

WHO: Gates (socialistinsect) and Jill (deeplyunnormal)
WHERE: Somewhere not that far from Stark Tower and the 'Porter labs.
WHEN: Earlier this afternoon.
WARNINGS: Not as far as I know.
SUMMARY: Gates arrives. He is not pleased. Or upright.
FORMAT: Prose to start with.

For all the tensions in the City of late, it seemed like a normal enough day outside Stark Tower. At least, until sometime after lunch. Then the daily dose of weirdness began.

It started just outside the building, as a silver-green disk of energy flashed into being some distance above the street. It expanded rapidly, then deposited a very discombobulated young man in midair. He pinwheeled his arms frantically, glanced around furiously, and then, before he could pick up enough speed to hit the ground with a splat, disappeared into another of those same disks of energy. Immediately thereafter, another disk appeared a little ways down the street, this one actually on the ground. But when the same guy emerged from it just as before, he didn't look at all reassured to be on the ground. He continued to flail and wobble helplessly for another moment, only to freeze when he caught sight of a car barreling at him. Sure enough, then came another disk, and he vanished again.

Third time's the charm, right? Not so much for this kid (and he did look more like a teenager than anything else). He at least reappeared on the sidewalk this time, but that didn't seem to do anything for his balance. He flopped his arms about some more for a few seconds before teetering over--

--and catching himself with another of those disks. Mercifully, when its partner appeared to deposit him, it was not far from a lamp post. So when he finally did fall over, at least he managed to catch himself on the post instead of hitting the pavement.

For a little while, Gates just leaned there, unnaturally green eyes wide. He opened his mouth a few times. When he finally spoke, his voice still wavered. "Oh, nass." He still wasn't letting go of the lamp post. He was clutching it so hard his knuckles were pale.

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[deeplyunnormal.livejournal.com]

[socialistinsect.livejournal.com]

"Oh, yes, I must be okay," Gates said peevishly, still clutching the lamp post. "I can now match the physical expectations of a conformist society! How could I be anything but okay? No, surely I am wonderful."

He turned the most pitiful expression on Jill, his eyes still wide. "How did this happen? I wish I'd never been hatched!"

[deeplyunnormal.livejournal.com]

[socialistinsect.livejournal.com]

"Typical humanoid 'tunnel vision,' as they call it," Gates scoffed. "Of course you'd assume I was always a vertebrate. As a matter of fact I belong to an insectoid race from the planet Vyrga--and I won't be forced to abandon my heritage just because I've had my body replaced against my will!"

Here he hesitated, as his observations started to catch up with his righteous wrath. "This is Earth, isn't it? It certainly looks the part. But it's awfully primitive...it would figure! I must be back in the twentieth century again, and just after I escaped it, too."

[deeplyunnormal.livejournal.com]

[socialistinsect.livejournal.com]

Slowly, Gates attempted to push himself up from his leaning position on the lamp post. It didn't work. He immediately started wobbling again, and he wound up hurriedly leaning forward so that his forehead touched the post. But he wasn't going to say anything about his need for help standing up or anything like that. He wouldn't admit to needing help from humanoids, thank you.

"So that machine violates the morphological rights of robots too? I shouldn't be surprised," he said. At least he'd stopped snapping at Jill herself. "The twenty-first century doesn't seem very different than the twentieth," he added. "What year is it? I was just in 2998, and before that, I was in 1998. Where have I been unjustly tossed now?"

[deeplyunnormal.livejournal.com]

[socialistinsect.livejournal.com]

Exclamation points were the norm for Gates, as it happened. Exclamation points, and little bursts of righteous indignation. But right now, they were definitely in overdrive. "Has no one challenged this rampant speciesism?" he asked. "Don't tell me the populace is too beaten down to resist. Rebellion always lives on in the sentient spirit!"

He looked at the hand being held out to him, then cautiously unwound one of his own hands from the lamp post and reached out to take hers. His mouth tugged into a frown. "My hand is so fleshy," he said in a small voice. "It's unnatural." He slowly shifted weight back onto his feet. "I can walk if I have to," he said. "But not on two feet!"

[deeplyunnormal.livejournal.com]

[socialistinsect.livejournal.com]

Sure enough, that explanation didn't seem to satisfy Gates. Still holding onto the lamp post with one hand and Jill's hand with the other, he stuck his chin out and straightened up. At least he'd mastered that much of human body language. "I got by without having my form changed in the twentieth century!" Well...barely. And he still hadn't quite figured out that--wait. "Oh, don't tell me this is another dimension, too," he added irritably.

But he did, at least, answer her question. "I...I could use a little help," he said hesitantly. "I won't be reduced to walking everywhere, but I should at least learn how to stand up on my own."

[deeplyunnormal.livejournal.com]

[socialistinsect.livejournal.com]

Hesitantly, Gates let go of the lamp post. Immediately, he started to flail his free arm--"I can't help it! Why did evolution ever think two legs was a good idea?"--but after a panicky moment, he managed to catch hold of Jill's hand.

There was a grudging pause, and then he said, "Thank you. Perhaps there's hope for the people of this century yet."

[deeplyunnormal.livejournal.com]

[socialistinsect.livejournal.com]

Oddly, that probably wouldn't have bothered him too much. He was a Legionnaire, after all. Weirdness was like lunch to him. He even worked with someone who could split into three different personalities herself--literally.

"Hmph," he muttered. "I'm--" He hesitated. "I can't say my real name with this mouth. But no one else here would be able to pronounce it anyway. You can call me Gates."

[deeplyunnormal.livejournal.com]