Born of History and Science

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EquinoxSol

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Edgar sat beneath the tree in the courtyard, writing in his journal, trying to come up with something dastardly or dark, like his original might have done. As part of his homework, he had to write a piece of dark literature each week, and he hated it. The writing wasn't so bad, but he found that he had nothing to write about! After so long, simply writing about ravens, disease, and just being dastardly and dark got old. And, maybe, it was conditioning him to become the next Edgar Allen Poe, as his teachers liked to joke, but he didn't care. Hell, after he graduated, he wanted to go to college to become a physicist, or a doctor, but every time he told someone, they would look him up and down before laughing. Totally not worth the time of day.

But who cared? The first graduating class of clones was going to graduate in a few months. Then, no one could tell him what to do.

Looking down at his paper, he crumpled it up before thinking, 'Guess I'll write about some more goddamned tuberculosis.' Running a hand through his shaggy dark hair, he pressed his eyebrows together as he tried to think of a fresh new metaphor he could use with the disease.

He sighed again, leaning back against the tree. "Ugh," he grumbled, just as the bell for lunch rang. Standing up, he ticked his journal and pen into his backpack before heading to the nice little cafeteria that was designed for the special students of the school.

"Here we go again," he thought to himself, rolling his eyes as he saw everyone in their cliques. He was a loner at heart, but he tended to drift between friends, depending on his mood. Today, he thought, he might sit alone...

OOC: https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/born-of-history-and-science-ooc.36799/
 
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Matoaka Powhatan jumped up from her seat, and was almost out the door, as the teacher tried to say the last bit about homework. She was done with science for the day and was happy about it. It was weird, because teachers didn't usually say anything about the behavior, even letting her get away with not doing homework. Like they expected her to run off, and she wasn't quite sure. But if they were willing to let her get by with doing very little work, who was she to complain. She slowed down the hall, saying Hello to various different friends. She ran a hand though hair shortish black hair, dark eyes focused on where she is head. She walked out of the science building, and head towards the cafeteria. The high noon sun warmed her tanned skin.

She walked through the doors of the crowded cafeteria, and moved through the lunch line. Gabbing a tray of food she walked out to look for a table. Makoata was very sociable and tended to switch tables between groups of friends. Not wanting people to feel left out she usually tried to incorporate anyone near who was sitting alone, into the group. Or on occasion just sit with the lonely person. Usually she just assumed people were being left out, instead of them just wanting to sit alone. She looked over the people, and walked to a table with only one person at it.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?"
 
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Edgar was well into eating a sandwich and drinking a juice when some girl he didn't know approached him, asking if she could sit there. Immediately, he gave his signature shrug, before he actually answered. "Go ahead, do whatever you want." Focusing back on his meal, he sighed a bit. Why can't people just read minds? he asked himself. He just wanted to eat alone and get out of the cafeteria so he could retreat to the library afterwards. Please don't try to talk to me, he prayed, focusing on his food.

Hearing too loud noises, coming from John Kennedy's table, Edgar glanced up to glare over at them. For some clones, they had they entire life planned out. As such, everyone expected clone Kennedy to follow in his predecessor's footsteps: become president. And among those who weren't fans of his arrogant, pushy, noisy ways--like Edgar--it was said he was likely to get shot as well. At least John had a legacy. All Edgar had was his loved ones all dying from some awful disease and then him dying under mysterious circumstances. Splendid.

Sill glaring at John, Edgar wished his vague friends Kafka and Albert were there for them to laugh darkly to each other about how much of a prick John was. But both were out sick that day. All Edgar had was this girl.

Sighing, he said a bit awkwardly, "I'm, um, Edgar..."
 
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Galileo Galilei was not quite like his original, as he liked to say, so he went by "Leo". However the studies of the staff that observed the young clones depict otherwise. Perhaps he was one of the ideally developed ones. He is essentially the original: a genius who is somewhat eccentric, but "fitted" to a modern world.
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Despite that, even the researchers would agree with Leo's two best friends Abe Lincoln and Charles Dodgson. He can be a bit too weird.

"Hey guys! Mind if I join you two for a bit?" Galileo stuffed himself right between the awkward duo of Edgar and Matoaka. He may be on good terms with nearly everyone, but they were often put off by his disregard for personal boundaries sometimes. He grows on them, though. He's just...really friendly.

"Mind if I borrow that apple, Pocahontas?" Leo took from her tray and looked around. He saw Edgar's bottle of juice and took the straw out before the latter could sip again. "I'd like to borrow that too, Ed."

Holding the straw in one hand, he pierced it right through the apple. "Pretty cool right? Right?" He gave each one a look of expectancy before glancing behind him to his friends' table. He had made a bet that both Edgar- known loner and Matoaka- one of the prettiest girls in their opinion- would both be impressed. Slightly, at the very least.
 
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Edgar was jostled as Leo squeezed himself between him and the girland began choking on a sip of juice. Beginning to cough, he hunched his shoulders until it passed. Straightening, he glared at him, not much one for interaction or close quarters with people. Besides, people like Leo annoyed him. He could handle him just barging in like that's and stealing his straw, but calling him 'Ed's just wouldn't work. His eyebrow twitching at the name, he ground his teeth a little, trying not to just punch that stupid look off his face.

As he pierced the apple with his straw, and asked if it was cool, Edgar answered, "No. Any idiot could do that. What was the point of tasking my straw and doing this?" He took his straw from the flesh of the apple, squeezing the bit that was inside it out and put it back in his juice.

"Anything else inane you want to show us?"
 
"Oh come on, lighten up, you." Leo said, undaunted. "Besides, Chopin can't bahaha!"

From the table where Galileo came from, Charles visibly slapped his forehead and turned away, knowing a hopeless case when it's presented.

"Anyway, I actually wanted to tell you guys something." Leo returned the apple to Matoaka's tray. "Aren't we all...clones of great people?"

He paused, giving them both that look of expectancy again, matched by a knowing little grin. "We should be pretty great. Greater than the researchers."

He jerked his head to the side a little, pushing his wavy fringe of auburn hair away to look a little more intensely at the two before he stood. "Just a thought." He said with a strange chuckle.
 
"The hell did that mean?" Edgar asked under his breath. Of course, he understood the words, but together what were they supposed to mean? What was the point of it? He sighed before determining that it was just more ridiculousness from Leo.

Anyways, Edgar had no intention of being great. He wasn't that good of a writer, and the only thing that made him remarkable was that he was born in a tube with the genes of a man who was long dead. After he graduated, he intended to get a degree in teaching English or something and fading away into the sea of normality. He might get a wife, maybe raise some kids. But no way was he going to be exactly like his original. No matter what anyone said.

He promptly stood up, clenching his hands into fists. Grabbing his garbage, he nodded to the girl--who, thanks to Leo, he had been able to remember the name of--and left, walking away before he could get into a fight over a stupid reason.
 
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Pocahontas wanted to save her apple from Leo, but before she could say anything, he had stabbed it with Edgar's straw. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion as Leo asked, 'Pretty cool right? Right?'

She sat there silently through the exchange and then became more confused when Leo said something about being great. It didn't really make sense with the whole putting the straw into the apple thing, and people said he was a genius. She jumped from her thoughts as Leo got up. Then she looked after Edgar as he got up and started walking away. She looked back at Leo, then got up quickly, grabbed her stuff, and followed after Edgar.

She stopped by a garbage can, dumping her stuff, then she jogged quickly after him.

"I wonder what that was about?" She followed closely behind him. "Personally I don't think I've met the standard set by the actual Pocahontas."

"It's hard to save some random 30 something white guy from my father, when I don't actually have a father," She said off hand, "Plus, I don't really find the British all that attractive for the most part."

She continued without waiting for his answer. "Plus, I don't think they made a clone of John Rolfe, and if they did, what if he's a jerk." She stopped for a second to contemplate something. "There is no way in hell I'm changing my name to Rebecca, that just isn't happening."

OOC: Sorry I've been really busy with work, but the holidays are over so it's going to slow down.
 
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Emily Dickinson sat in her special spot of the very large library, drawing one of her favorite subjects. Like her original, she liked seclusion and living on her own, save the ferret she lives with named Westley.
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But she cannot, for the life of her, write any good poetry. She's tried to be everything they wanted her to be, but she's just not good at writing. So she draws instead. She probably has a sketch of every face she knows at St. Kleio Academy ((Is it okay if I call it that?)), especially Edgar. She doesn't know why she likes to draw him especially, she just does. She's never really spoken to him and she doesn't really have any friends besides Westley. So, She spends a lot of time in her head.
The scientists liked her because she was relatively shy and quiet and never gave them any trouble, so when she asked for a pet ferret on her fourteenth birthday, they had no problem granting her wish as long as she promised to take good care of him.
She only seldom breaks the rules by bringing Westley with her in her black backpack every so often, but for the most part, he lives in her room. Not today though. Today he sits, curled up in her lap as she sketched another colorless portrait of Poe. Ferrets are about the only animals she can ever draw. Human faces are her forte and she knows it. Surrounded by the smell of books in her little corner with her legs crossed indian style, Emily gave a soft sigh and Westley shifted in her lap contentedly.
 
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Charles Dodgson was nothing like his original. He knows that. His friends know that. Hell, he dealt with the consequences everyday. He was supposed to be shy and introverted, afraid of his own shadow. But he wasn't his original, he was...him.

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After Leo's "fantastic" [sarcasm] attempt to make friends with Poe and that ... girl (her name always evade him, it sounded foreign or something), he turned to Abraham "Abe" Lincoln and sighed at the pleased smile on his face. "I am forever surrounded by idiots." he muttered. Abe turned to him in confusion, flashing him his smile. "What was that, Charlie?" Charles ignored him with ease.

"Idiot!" Charles called out, attracting the attention of those around. "YES!" Leo replied immediately, turning red after realizing what was said. Abe laughed heartily beside him. Charles gave a small smirk. "I'm not an idiot. I'm Galileo Galilei!" He told the writer with pride as he approached their table. "Idiot..." Charles retorted. "Always a ray of sunshine, Charlie. It's such a pleasure" Leo mocked. Charlie just smiled at him. "Glad to be of service, Galilei" He commented, watching in amusement as the other seethed.

Sometimes it wasn't so bad to be a clone. "You suck, Lewis." Leo threw at him. Charles rolled his eyes.

Sometimes. Definitely sometimes.
 
Edgar glanced over at Pocahontas as he heard her voice trailing after him, his expression slightly more placid. He listened to her speak, his customary scowl on his face. Once she was finished, he sighed softly before saying, "I think my original rolls in his grave every day. He was athletic--I'm not. He was this writer who created brilliant allegorical works...and I'm just me. And everyone wants me to be that guy, but I'm not that good a writer." He shrugged before stating, half-joking, "Maybe everyone I care about needs to die before I can write like my original..."

He walked to the library, where at least he could hide amongst the books until classes started again. Once there, he felt at home, and immediately started looking around in the nonfiction section. While he hated learning about his original, he liked learning about real things, and was often seen with books about astronomy or psychology.

Finding an older book about English mental hospitals of the twentieth century, he sat down at a table in the back, not caring if Pocahontas was still following him.
 
Pocahontas stopped in her tracks, at his last comment. That was just so morbid, and it made her a little uncomfortable. She watched him walk in the library and couldn't decided whether she should follow after him or not. He could want to be alone, it seemed she had pushed on a touchy subject. Gently pushing the door open, she decided she better apologize for lapse in observation. She had a tendency to oblivious to the feeling of those around her.

She walked in and headed towards the fiction section, thinking that was where he would head, because that's where she would go. Instead of spotting Edgar, she noticed a girl sitting in a small corner, sketching. Her first thought was that Edgar wasn't here, and she should look else where. She didn't go with that one. Walking over to the girl, she stopped right before the girl and blatantly looked at the drawing.

Noticing the subject of said sketch, she really loudly said, "Hey, that's Edgar!" She then looked over at the girls face, looked her over and noticed the ferret. "And that's a ferret!"

She stopped herself from just grabbing at it, and steeled herself to focus on her self given mission. "Sorry, I'm looking for Edgar, did you see him go by?"
 
Charlie stood up. "I'll just go read." He said simply, standing up and sharply turning to leave. Abe also stood and although he didn't intend to follow Charlie, he had nothing better to do. "Reading...three different versions of the same book again?" he said, challenging Charles for the sake of it.

Charlie rolled his eyes and walked on even as Leo called "Oy, wait. Wait!"

Abe chuckled and walked faster, ushering Charlie along unwillingly. The latter walked even faster.

The library was their other hang-out. It was mostly Charlie's but the other two often followed where he went. They don't go with him when he's selecting books however. Abe and Leo automatically walked over to their table and sat as Charlie strode off busily to the fiction area.

"So..." Abe said, propping his head on his hand. Leo grabbed a piece of paper from Charlie's pile of things that had taken permanent residence on that said table. There was an assortment of other things that they owned that were strewn about on that table which is why no one aside from them ever used it. "Looks like someone owes me some dough?"

"You devil." Leo, quite annoyed of losing the bet, ruffled his hair angrily and rummaged his pocket. Abe chuckled as Leo slapped some bills on the table. "I told you Edgar isn't up for cheap tricks."

"You did not." Leo huffed. "That was no cheap trick. It was science!"

"Look at him. Observe him. What do you think would impress that kind of guy?"

Leo thought for a moment, and followed where Abe was pointing. to his surprise, Edgar was just at the next table. "Uh, Pocahontas?"

"Wrong, duh." Abe crumpled the paper Leo took and threw it on him. "What were you telling him, anyway?"

"Same thing I told you guys." Leo threw the paper right on Abe's face with a snort. "We have so much more potential than non-clones, why else would we be created than to be great? To achieve things mere Genuines can't."
 
Charles rolled his eyes as he heard the same conversation that held by the idiots he was surrounded with. "Same old nonsense then, Leo?" he muttered as he sat at the one end of the table. The red head perked up at his arrival and grinned. "Because you guys refuse to see what I see!" he told the British writer.

Charles sighed and didn't comment. He refused to comment and opened his books. Placing them in front of him. He grabbed a pad and flipped the books to the same page. Realizing something, he grabbed a sketch pad and gave it to his companions. They eagerly opened it and went through everything, looking as if they were kids in a toy store. It wasn't everyday Charles let them -- heck, anyone really -- look at anything he deemed unfinished. And his sketches were even guarded more.

"If I wrote a piece about countries being personified, would you read it?" he asked them, lost in his trail of thoughts on that piece. Abe smiled. "Sounds cool!" he told the writer honestly. "Think about how they would fall in love and marry! And they would have babies! Baby Countries!!" Leo looked up from the drawings and grinned with the politician. "OMG! That would totally be awesome! France would totally be gay!" he agreed.

Charles looked startled. "What?" he asked. "Wars! Scars! Fueds! Battles! What on earth are you talking about?!" They both stared at him and looked at each other and sighed. "Charlie, Charlie, Charlie...you aren't Edgar Allan Poe." Abe told him gently. "Lewis Caroll, the one who wrote the insane, happy, twisted fairy tale called Alice in Wonderland. That's you remember?" Leo looked at him genuinely. "Charlie, you read your work everyday. Surely you remember, don't you?"

Charles huffed. No one understood his brilliance. He wasn't his original. He flipped open his "research" notebook and tuned out his idiot companions. Feeling uneasy, he looked up and turned to his left. Poe's dark eyes bore into his with great intensity.

"What do you think, Poe?" he called out with his British drawl. "Surely you agree that fiction such as this is best described with darkness, no?" Seeing the other's indifference, he tried a different tactic (ignoring his friends' odd reactions, he didn't have time to observe them, he was focused on the other man). "Your last work on Tuberculosis was dastardly good. The way you wrote your character's pain was well done." he told the other with a smirk.

"Honestly? The way I write pain and torment will only ever be secondary to you, Poe." He gave a dark chuckle. "They even named a bloody award after you." He looked at the other again. "You are so lucky you're who you are."



[ooc: OTL I'm sorry!!! I didn't realize it became so wordy! O.O!!]
 
Emily hadn't expected anyone to find her little corner of the library, especially not the excitable Pocahontas. So caught up in the details of her drawing was she that she hadn't noticed her until she leaned down and loudly revealed the name of her subject. Em visibly flinched away from her loud voice, surprise she'd forget to quiet down in the library of all places. Her brown eyes grew wide and she clutched the sketchbook tight to her chest before the dark-skinned beauty could get a better look. Then she pointed out the pet she wasn't supposed to have in here and Westley perked up, climbing up her body to sit on her shoulder and stare pointedly at Pocahontas. Emily grew very nervous about her volume. "Sssh!" She hissed nervously. The girl visibly restrained herself and asked her about the boy she was so fixated on drawing. Em sighed quietly.
"He's...usually in the nonfiction section I think." She mumbled, not minding Westley who had curled around the back of her neck, still staring at Pocahontas.
Emily expected her to walk away then, since most who spoke to her only seemed interested in whatever they were doing and only asked her things out of necessity. So she watched her expectantly, figuring she'd just bounce away and if Em was lucky, wouldn't mention her drawing.
 
Edgar had leaned against a shelf, reading over a few passages, trying to find inspiration for his next writing assignment. He felt like writing a story about a mental patient would prove interesting, but he would need to fit tuberculosis in somewhere. Maybe an outbreak of the disease spread through the patients. Deciding that he would check that book out later, he sat at a table and began taking notes, his usual scowl prevailing his features.

It was then that Charles called to him. Looking up, his frown deepened, and he narrowed his eyes slightly. He didn't exactly like anyone, but Charles and Leo were a special brand of annoying. Most people left him alone after a while. Not those two.

As Charles spoke, Edgar fixed his best indifferent stare, not interested in any of the other male's flattery. He didn't think that being created from a writer who's entire life consisted of pain and loss was all that good. Sure, he had an award named after his original, but Charles had two movies. "If you were me," he said, "you wouldn't be saying that." He looked away, wondering if he should get up an move, before deciding that Charles would probably just follow him.
 
Walking out of behind the bookshelf, she looked down the row of shelves into the Non-fiction section, and there he was, sitting alone at one table, with a bunch of other boys sitting at another. She looked back over at the girl with the ferret, then back towards, Edgar. Shrugging, she pulled a chair away from the table, and sat down leaning on the back of the chair. Smiling at the artist in front of her, she looked to the sketch book that was clenched to the girls chest.

"You know, you're really good!" She said, quieter than before. "It was really easy to tell it was Edgar."

She grinned widely at the girl, with this odd knowing sort of look on her face. "Do you like Edgar?" Pocahontas leaned in closer, "Cause, if you do, you should really go talk to him."

She quickly jumped out of her chair, "Oh, I could even introduce you, not that you don't know each other..." She looked to the other girl. "Do you know each other?"

She then scratched the back of her head, a little embarrassed, "Though, I don't actually know who you are." Pocahontas held out a hand to shake, "I'm Matoaka, though people usually just go with Pocahontas, and you are?"
 
Charles stared at the dark haired teen then turned away. "Jerk." he muttered to his friends, "This is the last time I'll ever be friendly." Turning his silver-blue eyes back to his friends, he pushed his other drawing towards them. "Help me kill Alice." he stated. "We've managed to kill her with suffocation through..." he paused, trying to locate the word. "...some Physic-inertia bullshit that I didn't understand. That was good."

He gave his Italian friend a smile. "Let's do it again. Something more slower..."

He watched them mull over that and looked at the writer and rolled his eyes. Being miserable alone was pathetic. He wasn't the only one hating their fate, sharing that hate was so much more productive. He smirked at his friends reactions, having found his more morbid, grotesque art of him killing his "original"'s work.

"Which one of her deaths is your favourite?" he asked them with a dark smile. "Personally, I like how she gets torn to shreds by horses pulling her body in different directions my favourite."
 
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Out of all the clones, there were only a few who were truly happy with who they were. Nikola Tesla was one of them. He was also happy to know that Thomas Edison hadn't been cloned, which to say the least felt like divine intervention, like some electrical god had damned away all traces of the original Edison, leaving the true mastermind to be reborn and fulfill his original's desires. Free electricity, for everyone! Edison never did that, now did he? No, he only stole all of his work, taking all of the credit.

Needless to say, Nikola, or Nicky, as he had had his fair share of NiCola jokes, was happy to be a clone. And once he graduated, he had big plans. Who knew what could be accomplished with today's technology?

That day, before his afternoon electrical engineering class began, he had gone to the library, to find a book about circuits. Catching sight of Edgar, one of his vague friends, he waved, but was mostly ignored, as per usual. Still, Edgar seemed interesting, and Nicky longed to get closer to him. Brushing curly brown hair out of his eyes, he found his book and sat down beside Edgar. The two had a sort of agreement: Nicky wouldn't be too bubbly or annoying, and Edgar would tolerate him. Neither would speak or ask about what they were doing or how it pertained to their originals, and everything would go smoothly.

Still...That day, Nicky couldn't help himself. He had spent all night working on an invention, and was eager to get more of a scowl out of Edgar. "Check it!" he said excitedly, taking from his pocket what seemed to be a mass of wires--copper and tin--around three metal balls and a mini Tesla coil. Edgar looked up from his notes, beginning to scowl. "This can make free electricity! C'mon! It will work with one of the computers." Grabbing Edgar's wrist, he dragged him along towards a computer. The dark youth seemed to be at least mildly interested, which meant he wasn't going to cut him down just yet. "You guys should come, too!" Nicky called to Charles, Leo, and Abe. "This is what I'm famous for! And what Edison could never do!" Without waiting for them he, went to the nearest computer and unplugged it, making sure it had no way to get power. From his pocket, he took out a device that appeared to be a flash drive, and stuck it into the computer. A light blue light blinked on, and he set the mass of wires and spheres on the desk, arranging a few of the wires.

He waited a moment after, and soon he heard a faint whirring sound coming from the computer. Smiling brightly, he pressed the power buttons, and slowly the screen blinked on, asking for his account information. "See!" he exclaimed. "It worked! And if I get bigger metal spheres and more wires, I can make it big enough for all of the computers here!" He smiled brightly, overjoyed at doing what his original couldn't.

Even Edgar looked mildly impressed with Nicky, the barest hints of a smile appearing on his face. Acting like a normal human being for once, he patted Nicky's back before saying, "Badass, man..." and retreating to his table, suddenly uncomfortable. Nicky took the flash drive device from the computer and rearranged the wires on his other device before standing as well, equally proud and surprised for it to actually work. Plus, it had made Edgar say something human for once instead of the way he normally spoke, like a robot. That had to mean he was cool!
 
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Abe simply chucked as Charlie complained. "Seriously bro, chill. Ed's not up for that kind of approach, I think he's either shy or he's just not into people." Leo stole Charlie's glasses right off his nose and imitated Charlie's squinting. "He ignored Pocahontas earlier so I'll say he's not into people."

He gave Charlie his glasses back before he would get mad and said, "Dude seriously. Horses are medieval." He grabbed a piece of paper from Charlie's precious do-not-touch-these pile and grabbed the pencil Abe was playing with. "We could have her walk right into this trap here." He began to sketch. "Could have been lead by the weird chubby twins-Twiddles, Dee and Dum then here," He tapped on the paper on a part of the complicated sketch he was making. He continued as Abe looked up when Nikola entered cheerily.

He poked the busily discussing Charles and Leo when the three of them were called. As Nicola demonstrated, Leo was instantly impressed.

"Nico!" Leo called with his usual disregard for people's names. "Can it power a telescope? Or! This awesome Alice-killing contraption?"
 
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