For Thomas Clark, there was nothing more saddening than watching his daughter chase after her dreams fervently, only for her to fail again and again.
It all started when the young Lola went to see an art gallery with her dear papa. Ever since that day, she made it her life goal to become just like the masters of old days and paint her imagination into vivid colour.
Reality didn’t match up with her dreams though— every time she sat in front of a blank sheet of paper with a pencil in her hand, everything would stop. All the inspiration would leave— and be replaced with nothing but an all-consuming rush of fear.
Thus, she never drew anything. Not in years had she ever made a single sketch.
Obviously, Thomas had his concerns.
He was a struggling businessman himself— though he barely could make ends meet, he was never afraid to dream big. He wanted his daughter to succeed.
Around the time, his friend had been studying a rare species of jellyfish. This jelly was a new discovery, and had rather interesting properties— whatever animal that would prey on it would gradually grow veil-like structures around its head, resembling jellyfish bells.
His friend had also mentioned tests involving land creatures and the jelly— not only did they grow these beautiful veils as well, but they displayed higher levels of intelligence afterwards— namely, they were able to create art. The sight of a mouse being able to draw a flower with its paws in the dirt— albeit a crude and rudimentary sketch, was a fascinating occurrence nonetheless.
Thomas was immediately intrigued by his friend’s research. Could this help his daughter?
He founded the Scyph Corporation with his researcher friend, Joseph Zhao as his second in command. They wanted to turn the jellyfish into a product designed for human use— if everything went well, it would mean a permanent death to the much-dreaded artist’s block.
Research on animal subjects showed no adverse side effects. Soon, Scyphozate pills hit the market— little bottles of pre-packaged talent.
Lola was her father’s first customer, of course.
The product was selling steadily. Success! It’s alright that it didn’t quite blow up— after years of toil and sweat, Thomas had finally made it.
His daughter slowly began to change. After a couple of weeks she had fully transformed, growing a large veil and tendrils around her head— and looked a little like a big jellyfish, which Thomas found quite amusing. Lola would sit in the living room, and not only would she draw, she drew beautifully.
Thomas was amazed. Last month she couldn’t even scratch up a piece of paper, and there she was— making pictures that rivalled some of the finest artists in skill and quality. She had gotten a little quiet, sure— but she must’ve just been excited to be able to draw. She was a good daughter anyhow.
One day, Thomas came up to his daughter, and was like, “Hey Lola, you’re not drawing and you look a little sad, is everything alright?”
And she looked at him, all confused. “Huh? Drawing? I don’t draw, I thought you knew that already.”
And he held up one of her pictures and said, “Didn’t you draw this? You were so proud of it when you finished.”
She really was lost at that point, and Tom told me he’s never seen so much utter confusion come out of his girl. He had a look, while talking to me, you know, like “what have I done” kind of thing.
And then she tells him, “I didn’t draw that. You know, Dad, I just had the longest nightmare about drowning.”
That’s all he told me. That’s all I’m allowed to know, I suppose. I thought it was a little odd one day this businessman just kind of hit me up— something about something my dad was doing, and I thought that was a bit strange, since I haven’t seen or even talked to that bastard in years.
Anyhow, I’ve been trying to restore this history file that got screwed over by the company. It’s been difficult— my memory’s been spotty and it’s all I have to go off of. I only have around ten minutes every ten days to work on the file.
They gave all the people affected by the pills a nice little nickname, apparently. We’re called the jelveils. It’s some cute rhyming, I suppose. Decently descriptive.
One last thing.
Nothing comes out of my dad but bullshit.
Don’t trust my father.