Marley holds an impossible creature.
SFX in this episode by Rocktopus, Jickle, 150134, 16HPanskaBenda_Jonas, and previously credited artists via freesound.org
Support the show on social media and patreon!
theconservatorypod.com
patreon.com/conservatorypod
Marley holds an impossible creature.
SFX in this episode by Rocktopus, Jickle, 150134, 16HPanskaBenda_Jonas, and previously credited artists via freesound.org
Support the show on social media and patreon!
theconservatorypod.com
patreon.com/conservatorypod
SFX: [theme plays, mouse clicking]
MARLEY: The Conservatory audio catalog: 4185113. Marley Stone recording from the main office.
SFX: [settling in chair]
MARLEY: What do you call a facility that houses something like animals, but not as I know them now, and not as anyone I’ve ever encountered knows them. And what would you call a place that keeps other life thriving? Things that could be considered plants if they were less…well just less everything? Are these things on display? On exhibit for an audience of only themselves - except for me.
Typically a conservatory is what we call a place for the study of arts, but it can also be used to describe a greenhouse. This facility where I spend my days is neither of those things, but it does conserve life. Incredible life, impossible life. What lives here does not not live anywhere else. So what other name could I give to a place that protects and houses one of a kind Beings other than The Conservatory. I’m studying them, life is kept here in perfect conditions, and I’ve always said that biology is an art just as much as it is a science.
The creatures that live in this place have free roam, as far as I’m aware, but they don’t seem to take advantage of it. You can walk through any one of these corridors and be surrounded by creatures that are seemingly unenclosed in the physical sense. Picture a reptile dome at a zoo. Each animal would be kept in its own glass enclosure with the perfect temperatures and humidity, protecting them from curious hands or maybe protecting the zoo’s guests from a venomous strike. Maybe a fat python, full from a recent meal, wouldn’t need such protective measures but that’s an exception to the norm and there would at least be some sort of barrier and signs warning you not to touch the animal.
It’s the same thing for exotic greenhouses in my experience. If they’re not for sale, you can’t, or you shouldn’t really, touch the plants. The difference here is that in zoos and greenhouses, there’s typically separation based on biome and behavioral compatibility. Here there isn’t rhyme or reason to the keeping of these life forms. Some of the plants resemble cacti, and one would assume such a thing would survive in desert conditions, but it thrives alongside lush and leafy vegetation - the likes of which I've only ever seen in tropical biomes. Small creatures run between exhibits unafraid of potential predation. They sleep and share space with much larger animals that look as if they eat the little ones as a snack. I’ve never seen anything get eaten, or die, here. What lives in The Conservatory does not struggle to live.
They also don’t seem to have any desire to reproduce. Save for a singular example where two bird-like creatures with fangs are locked in an unending mating display, I haven’t observed any other creatures exhibiting mating behaviors. So this isn’t a Noah’s ark situation - there’s not always two of each species in an exhibit. Sometimes there’s a large group, or colony, but most of the animal-like life is a singular creature, occasionally in the company of something very different. Imagine a polar bear peacefully living alongside a group of poison dart frogs. Anyone with sense would find that hard to wrap their minds around but that is the state of things in The Conservatory. The unimaginable and bizarre has become normal for me.
For this week’s catalog I took to the east wing. I’m not positive it really is East, as I don’t think cardinal directions matter much here, but I walked in the directions that felt east to me. As noted previously, navigation around here is more of a guttural feeling than a set of rules.
The creatures down this way are… whimsical. They’re like hybrid mashups of animals I’m familiar with, but twisted in eccentric ways. It’s similar to dream logic, where you know that the person you’re talking to is a close friend or family member, but looking at them is like looking at a stranger. And when you wake up you realize it was just your brain putting things together in the wrong order.
I walked through the first arch into an oblong room. The ceiling was obscured by vines that moved with an imperceptible wind. Flowers the size of wheelbarrows adorned the walls and shot upwards to a height about two feet above me. They were of all colors on the visible light spectrum, iridescent and rippling from chartreuse to vermillion to a dusky blue. Some smaller plants flourished underneath them, thriving in the shade the monstrous flowers created. A few of them have thorns on their petals.
I heard a woody creaking sound behind me and when I turned around I saw what could only be described as a stick insect the size of a wolf. It moved slowly along the floor, hind legs providing the power to propel its body forward. It either didn’t notice my presence or didn’t care because I stood and watched it move for half an hour, its elongated front legs poking about and testing surfaces. I watched in awe as it climbed up the thick trunk of a plant with no leaves or flowers; a column of stems wrapped around each other like strong rope. Eventually I couldn’t see it crawling about anymore and I moved on.
The first thing I saw in the next area was a clump of berry bushes with multicolored fruits. I thought maybe there was a pattern of rainbow plant life in The Conservatory but down the hall there’s another room totally in greyscale. Built into the walls of the berry room are habitats for what I think might be reptilian creatures. From top-left to bottom right I observed a scaled animal with two of everything, a scaleless fuzzy snake, a moist frog-like thing that kept dissolving into goo before reforming again, and an actual ouroboros: a snake eating its own tail. The goo frog made me nauseous but I was more perplexed by the animal in the first display.
It had two heads, two eyes (one for each head), two mouths with sandpaper teeth, two legs, and two tails. The right leg was positioned closer to the heads and the left closer to the tails. When it moved, it waddled clunkily along the bottom of the habitat. I didn’t think it would be possible for this animal to climb but I watched in half amazement and half horror as it pulled itself up one of the large branches for a nap. It was at peace so I let it be
Through another arch was a corridor with one exhibit on each side, like train compartments. The left housed a medium sized feline that was playing with a flying bug as I approached. Its fur was speckled like a leopard with a thick black mane around its neck. A long and powerful tail wrapped around a tree branch for support as it batted at this bug with five-fingered human hands. The fur on its legs ended at the carpals and transitioned to buff colored skin at the wrist. The thing slapped once more and caught its prize in a fist before turning and looking at me with wide eyes engulfed in black pupils. I quickly backed out and went across the hall to the other exhibit.
The creatures there were less frightening but still unnerving. Padding about the room on feet that resembled my own were three teacup sized ducks. Oddly enough they were silent. The feet-ducks, as I've started to call them, didn’t seem to care about my presence, much like the walking stick in the first room. They were so cute and small that I picked one of them up for… well for fun, but we can call it closer inspection. There weren’t any other differences, it was just a very small duck. But the feeling of tiny human feet in the palm of my hand was too unsettling so I put it back down with the others.
The last room I encountered reminded me of that one abandoned amusement park back home. A few years ago an urban explorer visited the old Wildlife Wonderland Park and while every living animal was given to the proper organizations, the dead continued to decay. He found this great white shark suspended in a cocktail of preservatives that didn't end up saving her from decay. That’s what came to mind when I first stepped foot into that room. What lives in there may be the most bizarre of anything I’ve encountered in the last few weeks I’ve been working on the catalog. It’s the section I’ve returned to the most. I recorded one of my trips to the… dying room. I’ll play that now.
SFX: [tape insert, clicking on]
MARLEY: Audio catalog supplemental - Marley stone recording in … the green room. This is not the first time entering this section. Everything is tinged greenish gray and smells faintly of formaldehyde. I always associated that scent with death from all of the dissection labs in high school and undergrad. I don’t know what it means in this context.
The most obvious deviation from other exhibits here is the absence of all plant life. What I thought were windows upon my first visit is just wallpaper. I can’t imagine why anyone would put up this realistic wall decoration that looks like thick dirty panes of glass… but I’m not one to judge. It adds to the ambiance I suppose. This room is completely empty. Except for two creatures.
They look to be of the same species and that’s where the similarities end. What I am looking at has four short legs, giving it the look of crouching low to the ground. It has the snout of a badger with the ears of… a cocker spaniel. Its teeth, when bared, are numerous and sharp. They glint with saliva as it growls. The difference between these two dog-badger things is that one is alive, and one is dying, and that doesn’t seem to be a problem for them. The “dying” animal is in what appears to be a stable state of decline - which makes no sense a downward slope is not a flat line but I don't know how else to say that this creature is dying but I do not think it will ever die. At least, not on its own.
The first time I came to this room I rushed to the side of this whimpering beast and tried to put pressure to the wound on its side to stop the blood but I felt its heart rate drop. It stopped breathing and didn’t start again until I stopped trying to help. I went back to the office to retrieve the first aid kit but by the time I returned the dying one was back to - well I wouldn’t say normal - but it was no longer struggling to breathe. This thing is mangled and bleeding from multiple places. It has a tail broken in half wagging happily as if it’s in no pain at all. It gets worse when I try to save it. I think if I were to actually patch up any of these wounds it would die and that would be my fault.
I don’t know how long it’s been here or how long it’s lived in this state but my first visit was 2 weeks ago and it’s condition hasn’t gotten any worse. These dog-badger creatures are absolutely fine without my interference, but it is sometimes nice to pet the one that can actually walk. As long as it’s done licking the other’s blood off of the floor. End supplemental.
SFX: [tape stops, ejects]
MARLEY: In a place that death seems to have forgotten, I am drawn to that room in particular. It’s easy to forget what life is like outside of The Conservatory, everything constantly fighting for that last scrap of food, the most desirable mate to raise offspring with, a safe place to sleep. None of the creatures here have to fight for survival. It’s impossible but they never need to eat and live in the perfect conditions without superficial support.
But those last ones… the dying animal. It reminds me of real life. Despite how impossible these dog-badger things are, they’ve made me realize that I do want death in my life, but in small ways. Where I can decide when, or if, I want to experience it. End audio catalog.
SFX: [mouse clicks off, then on again]
MARLEY: Supplemental. Like everything else in the Conservatory I no longer need to eat to sustain myself anymore. I noticed my lack of hunger, or any other bodily functions, on my second day here. I wasn’t going to mention it but if these catalogs are my only way of documenting what it’s like to live in The Conservatory I need to share the full experience. Perhaps I should start thinking of myself as another creature on exhibit… no. That’s too much. Anyways I don’t miss food, but I do miss coffee and tea… or I could just miss the caffeinel. That dependency hasn’t gone away like other hungers. I could always try some of the berries I found this week but I’m not positive that they’re even safe to eat. In the coming days I will spend more time observing the animals to see if they ever eat any of the plants, if not for sustenance then… for fun. End supplemental
SFX: [mouse clicks off, theme plays]
Thank you for listening to The Conservatory’s Audio Catalog. This program is written, performed, and produced by Sidney Jane. You can find out more on our website at theconservepod dot com. That’s where all of the social media links are. If you’d like to donate to the conservatory to get some behind the scenes content and early access to episodes as the show is produced you can do so by searching for the conservatory podcast on patreon.
I’d like to give a special thank you to the generous members of the donor tier, Like Kari, Zach, and Kale, Lover of cilantro! One of the best ways to support the show is to tell your friends! Spread the word about this strange new facility and the wonders it holds within. Thanks!