Eridan: Be the patient
*Eridan paces around the small room, warily looking to the door, to the bed, the wall and back. He doesn't mind the small room, no, it's the fact that he feels cut off with no way to communicate. Damn his crafty captors, those "doctors" holding him prisoner here.*
Honestly this is now way to treat me. I'm fuckin' royalty!
*Or so he thinks. Delusions, depression, dissociative identity disorder, and a genocidal streak bolstered by a ridiculous (if weak) superiority complex. He's not dangerous, really, unless someone fears getting yelled at and sobbed on in the same breath.*
Honestly this is now way to treat me. I'm fuckin' royalty!
*Or so he thinks. Delusions, depression, dissociative identity disorder, and a genocidal streak bolstered by a ridiculous (if weak) superiority complex. He's not dangerous, really, unless someone fears getting yelled at and sobbed on in the same breath.*