(no subject)

[cyclohexyl]

Here be a man, Nexus. Well, sort of man. Still living. For now at least. Tall, slender, cloaked in a long hooded lab coat. A black tight turtleneck beneath, black pants, black boots, black gloves and a strange black bird mask covers most of his face. The skin you can see is pale, almost faintly greenish. It looks sickly. He seems content with just walking a slow pace; chains a light ching with his steps until finally he speaks. His gloved hands are neatly linked around his front.

"Do you consider yourself a scientist?" He asked, and by his voice his illness was evident. Thin, sickly and rattling. Unwell all around. Unwell, but strangely showed very little concern or sorrow. If anything, aside from sickness, this man radiated nothing but a very level sort of calm.