Post by Heyo Kelly-o on Sept 24, 2007 7:13:19 GMT -5
Blon Fel Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen was hatched in exile on the planet Lete, circling a star half a galaxy away from the world that should have been her home.
--
On her fifth hatchday, her eight-years-older sister, Johr Nir Noyn Yisegmir-Far Slitheen gave her her first knife. It was small, thin blade made of ordinary steel, and it had been dulled by years of use, but she loved it anyway. She spent many nights slicing up the wild animals that lived in the wilderness near her house. She loved to watch the blood seep through the skin, out of veins and arteries, so fast but still so low, the animals making strange loud sounds not unlike those of her two-week-old brother Snon.
--
When she turned ten, she snuck into her brothers room one night, and carefully peeled back the skin on his right hand. She was so cautious, removing only the skin, through his protests and screams, and watching the blood vessels pulse, pushing muscle and bone in an erratic rhythm with the beating of his heart. She pulled the skin back over when she was finished, and left the knife sitting beside his bed.
--
Her youngest sister was hatched when she was twelve years old. She tended to ignore the pathetic crying thing, it was too soft, and cried at the sight of a knife. There was something wrong with it.
Her Mother, one day, decided that Blon should watch over her sister for a while, and sent the two of them out of the house to the beach. It wasn't that far from the house, but it was far enough a walk, and the ground was rocky and paths narrow.
Somewhere along the way, she and the hatchling became seperated, and the sun began to set, casting strange shadows on the beach as the tide began to come in. Blon looked around disinterestedly, the fate of the hatchling didn't really concern her, before she went home.
Her father gave her a new knife, a silver blade with an electronic pulse in the tip, and told her that protecting herself was the most important thing. She nodded and later went back to the beach, found the hatchlings body, and dissected it. When she was finished, she turned the electric pulse on it and watched it blacken and burn away to dust.
--
When she turned thirteen she used the knife to kill her younger brother and secure her place as the superior of the Slitheen children. She chose against using the electric pulse, instead peeling back the skin she had once taken away and using it as a map tracing over each artery and vein with the tip of her knife, watching avidly as the blood pooled around his feet, and barely listening to the screams. When all the life had seemingly flowed out of his body, she cut open his chest and chistled his heart out the place where it snuggly rested between his ribs.
--
She was a young woman when she was chosen to leave Lete and accompany her Father, along with a slew of uncles and cousins, to a place where they could stimulate the non-existant trade-economy they currently had. Her
Father had created the plan, of course, though it was a bit too crude for her liking. A bit too obvious.
It turned out she was right, and the plan was seen right through, by an apparently frequent visitor to the planet. If they had chosen another planet, it might have worked. As it was, she listened to her Father and uncle's die, then watched the cousins submit to the same fate, while sliding away to safety, biding her time and planning.
--
The woman Margaret Blain had been an accident. The unfortunate woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she was decidedly more attractive than the terrible male body-suit she'd originally been assigned, so she took it.
After escaping Downing Street, she rose to power in the most innocent ways. A good word put in here, make some friends in high places, the mysterious disappearance of her opponent when she ran for office, and she was in. And from there, she could implement her plan and get away from these poor primitive apes.
And, like her Fathers plan, it might have worked, had it been any other planet.
--
When she was thirty-seven years old, she looked into the heart of the Tardis searching for a way back to the planet that had exiled her, and was given her wish.
The egg that had once been Blon Fel Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen was transported silently to the hatcheries of Raxacoricofallapatorius, and left inconspicuously among the hundreds of eggs.
--
Imra Yil Yarit Kisatchet-Get Thaleem was hatched on the third day of the fourth season, in the shadow of the eclipse of Clom and her own home.
--
On her fifth hatchday, her six brothers and sister threw her a party, and after she'd popped every balloon with the sharpest pin she could find, she gorged herself on nirdeth fruit and hotcakes. Her parents gave her a book on theoretical sciences, and she read it front to back within a month, rereading the sections in it on disease and medicine.
She made herself a knife, out of melted paper-clips and coins. It was a fragile thing, but it could cut through the thin skin of the birds that constantly flew into her room. That night she slit ones throat, and as it died took it apart, studying the intricate complexities of its anatamy.
--
When she was ten years old, she took a large sum of money from her parents savings dish and bought herself a chemistry set full of toxic chemicals and dangerous substances. She sat in her room for weeks mixing concoctions and testing them on birds, and the little rodents that she could catch with self-made traps.
Some of the mixtures did nothing. But most had some function. Some would dissolve skin, some dissolved internal organs, or melted bones. Some stopped the heart from beating, or slowed the lungs. She tested each and every chemical before discovering the substance she would later use in excess.
--
Her parents, disturbed at her interest in disease, sent her away to a medical school specializing in curing diseases when she was twelve. She excelled at all her classes, quickly rising above the other students, and graduating two years early. One of her sisters made her a bright blue and orange tapestry in congradulations, and she used it to wrap up the metal disk that was her diploma.
As a reward for passing so quickly and efficiently, her parents bought her a tsat (a domestic pet not unlike a puppy). She spent days locked in her room dissecting it, then dissolved the remains and told her Mother it had run away.
--
When she was eighteen she applied all her knowledge of disease to release a deadly plague into the atmosphere of the planet. It took root quickly in the far north and south, where the conditions were more extreme, then spread quickly across the other continents. Many people panicked and fled, spreading the disease before a quarantine could go into effect.
With much of the population dead and the rest dying, she offered them the cure, with a catch. She took control of the dying masses of Raxacoricofallapatorius, and extended and amnesty to the family Slitheen, which she married into as soon as the new ruling order was fully established.
--
On her fifth hatchday, her eight-years-older sister, Johr Nir Noyn Yisegmir-Far Slitheen gave her her first knife. It was small, thin blade made of ordinary steel, and it had been dulled by years of use, but she loved it anyway. She spent many nights slicing up the wild animals that lived in the wilderness near her house. She loved to watch the blood seep through the skin, out of veins and arteries, so fast but still so low, the animals making strange loud sounds not unlike those of her two-week-old brother Snon.
--
When she turned ten, she snuck into her brothers room one night, and carefully peeled back the skin on his right hand. She was so cautious, removing only the skin, through his protests and screams, and watching the blood vessels pulse, pushing muscle and bone in an erratic rhythm with the beating of his heart. She pulled the skin back over when she was finished, and left the knife sitting beside his bed.
--
Her youngest sister was hatched when she was twelve years old. She tended to ignore the pathetic crying thing, it was too soft, and cried at the sight of a knife. There was something wrong with it.
Her Mother, one day, decided that Blon should watch over her sister for a while, and sent the two of them out of the house to the beach. It wasn't that far from the house, but it was far enough a walk, and the ground was rocky and paths narrow.
Somewhere along the way, she and the hatchling became seperated, and the sun began to set, casting strange shadows on the beach as the tide began to come in. Blon looked around disinterestedly, the fate of the hatchling didn't really concern her, before she went home.
Her father gave her a new knife, a silver blade with an electronic pulse in the tip, and told her that protecting herself was the most important thing. She nodded and later went back to the beach, found the hatchlings body, and dissected it. When she was finished, she turned the electric pulse on it and watched it blacken and burn away to dust.
--
When she turned thirteen she used the knife to kill her younger brother and secure her place as the superior of the Slitheen children. She chose against using the electric pulse, instead peeling back the skin she had once taken away and using it as a map tracing over each artery and vein with the tip of her knife, watching avidly as the blood pooled around his feet, and barely listening to the screams. When all the life had seemingly flowed out of his body, she cut open his chest and chistled his heart out the place where it snuggly rested between his ribs.
--
She was a young woman when she was chosen to leave Lete and accompany her Father, along with a slew of uncles and cousins, to a place where they could stimulate the non-existant trade-economy they currently had. Her
Father had created the plan, of course, though it was a bit too crude for her liking. A bit too obvious.
It turned out she was right, and the plan was seen right through, by an apparently frequent visitor to the planet. If they had chosen another planet, it might have worked. As it was, she listened to her Father and uncle's die, then watched the cousins submit to the same fate, while sliding away to safety, biding her time and planning.
--
The woman Margaret Blain had been an accident. The unfortunate woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she was decidedly more attractive than the terrible male body-suit she'd originally been assigned, so she took it.
After escaping Downing Street, she rose to power in the most innocent ways. A good word put in here, make some friends in high places, the mysterious disappearance of her opponent when she ran for office, and she was in. And from there, she could implement her plan and get away from these poor primitive apes.
And, like her Fathers plan, it might have worked, had it been any other planet.
--
When she was thirty-seven years old, she looked into the heart of the Tardis searching for a way back to the planet that had exiled her, and was given her wish.
The egg that had once been Blon Fel Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen was transported silently to the hatcheries of Raxacoricofallapatorius, and left inconspicuously among the hundreds of eggs.
--
Imra Yil Yarit Kisatchet-Get Thaleem was hatched on the third day of the fourth season, in the shadow of the eclipse of Clom and her own home.
--
On her fifth hatchday, her six brothers and sister threw her a party, and after she'd popped every balloon with the sharpest pin she could find, she gorged herself on nirdeth fruit and hotcakes. Her parents gave her a book on theoretical sciences, and she read it front to back within a month, rereading the sections in it on disease and medicine.
She made herself a knife, out of melted paper-clips and coins. It was a fragile thing, but it could cut through the thin skin of the birds that constantly flew into her room. That night she slit ones throat, and as it died took it apart, studying the intricate complexities of its anatamy.
--
When she was ten years old, she took a large sum of money from her parents savings dish and bought herself a chemistry set full of toxic chemicals and dangerous substances. She sat in her room for weeks mixing concoctions and testing them on birds, and the little rodents that she could catch with self-made traps.
Some of the mixtures did nothing. But most had some function. Some would dissolve skin, some dissolved internal organs, or melted bones. Some stopped the heart from beating, or slowed the lungs. She tested each and every chemical before discovering the substance she would later use in excess.
--
Her parents, disturbed at her interest in disease, sent her away to a medical school specializing in curing diseases when she was twelve. She excelled at all her classes, quickly rising above the other students, and graduating two years early. One of her sisters made her a bright blue and orange tapestry in congradulations, and she used it to wrap up the metal disk that was her diploma.
As a reward for passing so quickly and efficiently, her parents bought her a tsat (a domestic pet not unlike a puppy). She spent days locked in her room dissecting it, then dissolved the remains and told her Mother it had run away.
--
When she was eighteen she applied all her knowledge of disease to release a deadly plague into the atmosphere of the planet. It took root quickly in the far north and south, where the conditions were more extreme, then spread quickly across the other continents. Many people panicked and fled, spreading the disease before a quarantine could go into effect.
With much of the population dead and the rest dying, she offered them the cure, with a catch. She took control of the dying masses of Raxacoricofallapatorius, and extended and amnesty to the family Slitheen, which she married into as soon as the new ruling order was fully established.