The world came back into focus slowly. Dist couldn't remember much; he apparently had a new roommate, but he couldn't really recall anything else[he wasn't even sure why he knew that; they'd never spoken]. He was slumped forward a bit and as he came around he arched his back slightly; he posture was uncomfortable, and his spine popped in a couple places.
Halfway through the motion he realized that this was not a typical position to wake up in. He blinked his eyes open and looked around, testing his mobility and finding it significantly reduced.
This did not make for a happy Dist.
He glared when he spotted the doctor, pulling against his restraints a bit. "Who the hell are you, and what do you want?" And why couldn't he see the man's face?
Whether it was just a lighting trick or something more out of the ordinary that made the doctor's features impossible to see didn't matter in the end. The effect was still creepy enough to unnerve most people, but this so-called God-General should have been an exception, shouldn't he? He'd done enough despicable things in his life that he hardly should have been panicking now.
Shouldn't this setup have been familiar? Though the doctor realized that Dist was used to it being the other way around.
"You can't guess?" he asked, and the smile could be heard in his voice. "This is practically your life, after all." Most likely because the man had nothing else. When no one cared about you, what else could you do but find something else to do with yourself? Immoral science wasn't always a person's first choice, but it was one thing they shared in common.
Well, Dist was also just now coming out of a drugged unconsciousness, so he was not exactly at his most observant. He tugged against his restraints again, giving the doctor his very best Intimidating Dist Glare, though it wasn't quite as effective as he'd have liked, given that he had to crane his neck slightly to look up from his position in the chair and that he man's face was shadowed. "Don't you dare touch me, you wretched savage!"
It was almost entertaining, how quickly some people would fall into screaming and threatening despite the fact that they were caught. As if their words would somehow delay the inevitable. In fact, the doctor actually enjoyed dragging things out, since it often made things more excruciating that way -- so a bit of talking before they got to the meat of this whole thing didn't bother him.
"Do you really think you have the right to say something like that, when you've toyed with someone's life yourself? Besides, there's nothing you can do to stop me," the man pointed out, his tone cool and calm, indicating that nothing about this situation bothered him. Certainly not the ethical problems, in any case. One hand lifted up from the pocket of his coat to point out the restraints that would keep Dist in that chair no matter what. Shouldn't he like that? What with his fondness for chairs and all.
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Halfway through the motion he realized that this was not a typical position to wake up in. He blinked his eyes open and looked around, testing his mobility and finding it significantly reduced.
This did not make for a happy Dist.
He glared when he spotted the doctor, pulling against his restraints a bit. "Who the hell are you, and what do you want?" And why couldn't he see the man's face?
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Shouldn't this setup have been familiar? Though the doctor realized that Dist was used to it being the other way around.
"You can't guess?" he asked, and the smile could be heard in his voice. "This is practically your life, after all." Most likely because the man had nothing else. When no one cared about you, what else could you do but find something else to do with yourself? Immoral science wasn't always a person's first choice, but it was one thing they shared in common.
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"Do you really think you have the right to say something like that, when you've toyed with someone's life yourself? Besides, there's nothing you can do to stop me," the man pointed out, his tone cool and calm, indicating that nothing about this situation bothered him. Certainly not the ethical problems, in any case. One hand lifted up from the pocket of his coat to point out the restraints that would keep Dist in that chair no matter what. Shouldn't he like that? What with his fondness for chairs and all.
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