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Trachea of a locust
The black structure forms an elaborated network of tiny pipes that shrink more and more, until they reach individual cells that they feed with air. Sometimes, there is an "air bag", which improves the locust's lighness and allows him to fly. There is no blood system : the air directly enters into the trachea and navigates to the cells.
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If I'm ever old I don't think I'll be able to contain the life still inside of me, and like a nuclear blast it will pour out of the frail husk that imitates my body and leave it a shivering beetle hollow and devoid of brilliance.
I don't think I will be old, though. I've never wanted that and I've never expected it - I think at the rate and the strength with which I feel life, no matter how much hydrogen I contain it will give me final detonation in grand form one day - and I much prefer that to a slow angry dessication. I am so much already that it seizes me sometimes in vicious grip of iron and throws me wearily to the stars while my flesh stumbles and trips along the ground beneath. My head is full of sawdust but it's okay because I am not in there! I'd suffocate on Venus if I could, in the heat and the poison, but for this thing called will.
me: *swipes a packet of silica gel* seize the means of dessication.
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The Scientific Research Notes Of S. Sunkavally (years; 2002-2011).
177-179.
@desiccation: tell me about dark dweet; does the gore ever make him feel sick to his stomach? has he ever killed someone and regretted it? what does he do in his down time between trials?
Dwight doesn't actually take much pleasure in the gore of a kill. He's really not that kind of sadistic killer like some. The thrill for him stems from watching the life drain from a victim's eyes. Dark, morbid, and emotional. He's reminded of himself with just about every kill, and at times when his own self-hatred mounts to a new high, a rage-induced frenzy overtakes him. In these instances, it's as if he loses time. His own rage for the person he's become is inflicted on whomever is standing the closest. He's quick to take out his anger on others as red clouds his vision.
Regret and guilt are a very big part of Dwight's every day emotions. He isn't a psychopath. He's actually very in tune with his emotions. This presents a rather challenging obstacle during trials, but he's able to overcome it - reject its presence in the heat of the moment - and deal with it later. Dwight acts very much off of selfishness and self preservation alone at this point. Killing all three survivors in the trial that broke him was merely the initial stepping stone towards the bargain the Entity struck. Whereas he was brainwashed into acting on his anger, her bargain promised him an end to the constant suffering in exchange for his service in the realm of the Killers. He actually still possesses the ability to sympathize with his victims, as he's reminded of what he'd endured. Each kill is extremely emotional for him most of the time, and others it can feel absolutely erotic. His moods are volatile, unpredictable, and fleeting. Often times during a kill, should his sympathy be strong enough, he will whisper "I'm sorry . . ." into their ear as his blade collapses their lung. His kills are strangely intimate most of the time, and on more than one occasion, he will shed a single tear before tossing someone's fading life onto a sacrificial hook, fulfilling his side of the bargain in exchange for a sharp pang of guilt. Dwight possesses a lot of patience, enjoying conversation with his victims before catching them off guard. Often, if insulted, he's inclined to agree in most instances, depending on what is said. He hasn't forgotten entirely who he was, though his life before the fog admittedly begins to feel more and more like a fever dream. He's become a monster. He doesn't recognize his reflection. He still only has one goal in mind: survive.
In between trials, the survivor turned killer usually stays quite secluded, a dark aura following him wherever he goes. It's not impossible for him to forget about everything in the presence of another (The Legion took him in as more or less a 'pet' - part of the family they view as a bit of a trophy, admittedly, as they had a strong hand in Dwight's tipping point - though he doesn't wear a mask like the rest), but as soon as he's alone again, his psyche screams endlessly. He takes walks, enjoys watching the survivors at the campground he used to share, pities the suffering they endure, but grateful he's no longer condemned to it. Mostly, however, he spends his time idly staring at the ceiling, craving a sleep that rarely comes. When it does, he will sleep for 12-14 hours, typically interrupted by harrowing nightmares. A recurring dream he often has is of his old self being hunted by who he's become, as if he's playing the role of Dwight Fairfield: the survivor's perspective. Being significantly older than the rest of the Legion, he isn't much for socialization, but he has grown to enjoy Frank's company, especially in his darkest hours... Frank has a way of making him feel justified in his selfishness, and his touch helps him escape his mind, even if it's fleeting.
