[ --that gets a laugh, if a quiet, uneven, barely vocalised one. Surprised. His gaze has dropped back down to their hands. ]
Human genetic mutation.
[ That feels like a long time ago, or-- it used to feel like a long time ago. Part of him still feels as though it were barely yesterday, a part crystallised by his time at the Tranquility prior to last jump. When he was still a scientist. ]
By and large, it was a reflection on mutation as a means of advancing the human race as a species. Genetic variation creating diversity. I theorised on the remote possibility that the dawn of a nuclear age may have already taken us a further step in the form of humans with extraordinary abilities, beyond imagining.
[ His tone is gently wry. Of course he'd already known that, when he'd penned it down. He thinks briefly on Erik, on how wrong he had taken it, but the thought isn't allowed to go beyond idle tangent, cut off like a snake decapitated. He thinks better of Raven, who thought she was a pet to him, but better identified as a muse. Long gone. ]
I wrote a companion piece of the effects of nuclear radiation on human biochemistry, and prior to that, focused study on behavioural neuroscience. You can't walk into Oxford and start talking about superpowers without a little groundwork convincing them you're not crazy.
[ There's an exhale that comes at a hiss, his hands twitching in her grasp in compulsion of putting his head back in between them (and will, if she lets him), but voices are only voices, less needling. Just unwelcome.
He remembers, too, being able to think clearly, to come up with all these brilliant things. ]
no subject
Human genetic mutation.
[ That feels like a long time ago, or-- it used to feel like a long time ago. Part of him still feels as though it were barely yesterday, a part crystallised by his time at the Tranquility prior to last jump. When he was still a scientist. ]
By and large, it was a reflection on mutation as a means of advancing the human race as a species. Genetic variation creating diversity. I theorised on the remote possibility that the dawn of a nuclear age may have already taken us a further step in the form of humans with extraordinary abilities, beyond imagining.
[ His tone is gently wry. Of course he'd already known that, when he'd penned it down. He thinks briefly on Erik, on how wrong he had taken it, but the thought isn't allowed to go beyond idle tangent, cut off like a snake decapitated. He thinks better of Raven, who thought she was a pet to him, but better identified as a muse. Long gone. ]
I wrote a companion piece of the effects of nuclear radiation on human biochemistry, and prior to that, focused study on behavioural neuroscience. You can't walk into Oxford and start talking about superpowers without a little groundwork convincing them you're not crazy.
[ There's an exhale that comes at a hiss, his hands twitching in her grasp in compulsion of putting his head back in between them (and will, if she lets him), but voices are only voices, less needling. Just unwelcome.
He remembers, too, being able to think clearly, to come up with all these brilliant things. ]