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Star
- Joined
- Dec 25, 2012
- Location
- 'Murica
New Haven University was a place of learning. Learning, enlightenment, and experimentation. Backed by government funding and private corporations, it was a site for many groundbreaking projects in science. The brightest of college students often ended up here to be shaped into the greatest minds of the generation, ready to invent the next biggest thing to forward humanity.
Here in one of the science buildings, Aela Jinnah toiled at work on her own time. Her project involved utilizing the latent abilities of common arachnids. Aela honestly thought they were repulsive creatures, but she was a specialist in biology and chemistry. Her most recent work was aimed at trying to synthesize and mass produce a variant of spider silk, with the tensile strength of steel. Simply dubbed 'silksteel', the possibilities with it were endless. Clothing, thread, rope, armor, the applications showed much promise for her benefactors.
The concept was simple, to her at least.
1. Get genetically altered spiders! (Little ones, hate tarantulas)
2. Have them possess increased fertility (Try not to have them kill eachother would help)
3. Compel them to spin constantly (make sure it's unbreakable webbing)
4. Build machine to harvest as they go. (Rotate in place in cage?)
The lab she moved her research to, however, was not the most well-maintained. The equipment was old, invisible cracks, and possibilities of cross-contamination were likely. She ignored these possibilities, hell-bent on giving her benefactors results. They've put pressure on her a lot lately, and threatened to cut funding if she didn't give them anything solid. She had yet to pass the second hurdle of her plan, and needed a breakthrough, quick. Several burners were on, tending to heated chemicals, while rows and rows of genetic samples littered the room in beakers and tubes. In a few plastic cages were the tiny spider subjects, some living, some dead from experimentation.
When the inevitable lab explosion happened, no one else was around to help, and fumes from the mixed chemicals clouded the room. A fire somehow broke out, and genetic samples and unstable compounds were breaking and spilling on the floor. Aela coughed, struggling to get to the door, but never made it. She fell to the ground, unconscious.
Two hour later, a text was sent from Aela to her most trusted friend. All it said was this,
'It's Aela. Meet me in the basement of the B7 building. I know it's dark out but this is urgent! It involves my research.'
Here in one of the science buildings, Aela Jinnah toiled at work on her own time. Her project involved utilizing the latent abilities of common arachnids. Aela honestly thought they were repulsive creatures, but she was a specialist in biology and chemistry. Her most recent work was aimed at trying to synthesize and mass produce a variant of spider silk, with the tensile strength of steel. Simply dubbed 'silksteel', the possibilities with it were endless. Clothing, thread, rope, armor, the applications showed much promise for her benefactors.
The concept was simple, to her at least.
1. Get genetically altered spiders! (Little ones, hate tarantulas)
2. Have them possess increased fertility (Try not to have them kill eachother would help)
3. Compel them to spin constantly (make sure it's unbreakable webbing)
4. Build machine to harvest as they go. (Rotate in place in cage?)
The lab she moved her research to, however, was not the most well-maintained. The equipment was old, invisible cracks, and possibilities of cross-contamination were likely. She ignored these possibilities, hell-bent on giving her benefactors results. They've put pressure on her a lot lately, and threatened to cut funding if she didn't give them anything solid. She had yet to pass the second hurdle of her plan, and needed a breakthrough, quick. Several burners were on, tending to heated chemicals, while rows and rows of genetic samples littered the room in beakers and tubes. In a few plastic cages were the tiny spider subjects, some living, some dead from experimentation.
When the inevitable lab explosion happened, no one else was around to help, and fumes from the mixed chemicals clouded the room. A fire somehow broke out, and genetic samples and unstable compounds were breaking and spilling on the floor. Aela coughed, struggling to get to the door, but never made it. She fell to the ground, unconscious.
Two hour later, a text was sent from Aela to her most trusted friend. All it said was this,
'It's Aela. Meet me in the basement of the B7 building. I know it's dark out but this is urgent! It involves my research.'