Crystal looked up from her cell, where she had been sitting there prior. She was a college grad, fresh onto the working streets. At first. Sociology Degree, Psychology,Herbology, All the Ology's. She got straight a's. She had a 4.0 GPA, but the didn't realize that till after the tests. Her fox ears perked up, and her one fox eye trained on you. It was simple the genetic changes she had, but she could never live the normal one she was supposed to, thus making her trapped here until the end of her days. "Oh is there dear?" Nonetheless she remained one of the kindest and most stubborn doctors there, leaving behind a motherly,aunt-like,or grandmotherly impression. "Well then, let them into the cells around me. It gets lonely after a time." She had a possibly English accent, but it was a light one.
(How should the test subjects start off?)
(Filed into the test subject room?)
Emaelia tried to stretch her wings, but remembered at the last second she couldn't, her cell was too small for that. Luckily, she had found a way through that. She slowly extended either wing through the bars of the cell. Ah that felt nice. She bit her lip again, which was a habit she had whenever she didn't know what to do. Emaelia tasted the metallic taste of blood on her tongue and swallowed it, like usual. She'd just have another tiny scar there. She reached a finger up to touch the sharp edges of her teeth and flinched. Her total wingspan was a little over four yards - it'd been measured. Every other day she'd been here. Every. Day. Since she was a little kid. When she was five, it was okay. She didn't know what was going on at all, and she was fine with it. In fact, she loved showing off her wings. But then she grew older and her brain matured slowly and she realized why she was there. She was just the experimental mouse, and they were the scientists. I'd be lucky if they don't put me down, she thought. Emaelie laughed softly. Put me down, like one would say about an animal. I'm not an animal, but they certainly act like it.
It was safe to say that Caspian was very panicked. He'd kicked and thrashed about madly until it became apparent that the guard wasn't going to uncuff him or release him any time soon. Every once and a while he would try, futilely, to pull away, but his struggles mostly ceased as he tried to make out his surroundings. He couldn't stay here, after all—he had a younger sister to get back to. "Do you kidnap kids for fun, then?" he sneered, once again trying to wrench himself free of the guard's iron grip. His eyes seemed to flash in the light, something they'd done ever since he was born. "Ocular albinism," the doctor had told his mother, all those years ago. "It shouldn't cause him any trouble as long as he wears his glasses and gets his eyes checked every so often." Yeah? Well where are you now, Mr. Doctor-man? his mind supplied sarcastically. Blaming his eyes was the only reason the teen could think of for being in this situation, and it was easier to blame something he had no control over rather than accept the fact that he'd been walking in the dangerous part of town too late at night—with a bad leg, nevertheless. Well, he supposed, nothing I can do about it now. His glasses had long since been lost in the struggle, and now he could only make out blurry figures. It didn't help that he had next to no depth perception without them.
Crystal sat up, and as soon as her hands touched the bars, vines blooming with flowers began to cover them. Magic. She was one of the last truly magical beings in the world, as she watched him be placed into the cell right across from her. She offered a smile, her eyes twinkling. She then looked over and saw Emealia stretching. "Emealia, you have the prettiest wings you know that?" She said. Crystal tried her best to be kind, and use kindness instead of force to lure them in. It worked like a charm, most gave into her motherly aura a lot better.
Cas couldn't fully suppress a yelp as he was roughly shoved into the cell. His leg, injured as it was, couldn't support his weight when he tried to take a step forward, sending him sprawling onto the ground in a heap of anger and embarrassment. To make matters even worse, his hands were still cuffed behind his back. In a series of grunts, he managed to get his good knee under him and sit up, finally turning to face where the voice had come from. He squinted, only able to see a fuzzy green color he was sure hadn't been there a minute ago. "Who are you?" he demanded, the back of his neck prickling at the feeling of being watched. He was torn between hiding in the back of whatever sort of cell he'd been forced into or stepping closer to the bars in the hopes that he could see who was in the vicinity. In the end, he went with the latter, nearly toppling over as he forced his bad leg to support him long enough to lean against the wall. He hissed at the pain, but pushed it asides as he hobbled closer to the bars, apparently forgetting about his lack of depth perception and plowing right into the extremely solid metal. "AH, Sh*t!" he cussed, falling on his butt in front of what he presumed to be the door. Accepting defeat, he slumped heavily against the wall and hung his head, his injured leg splayed in front of him at an awkward angle.
She sighed. She was in a little nicer cell. Her cot had padding, and when they needed her to doctor, or when she needed to get out, all she had to do was press a button on the wall, and give a report and reasoning for why she needed to leave. "I am Crystal Love Rosethorn, but everyone calls me Momma Crys, Auntie Rose, or Crissy." She reached over and pressed the button, and waited for a guard. He arrived and after quickly explaining your injury, they let her out. She then headed out of the room to a locker room, where she got a lab coat on, and grabbed some medical supplies and a set of keys. She came back to the cells, and went over to Cas's cell, and unlocked it. "Crystal here, I'm a doctor and experiment. Now. I am going to bandage your leg alright? It's going to hurt but will heal better if I fix it so just, sit tight." And she pulled back your pants leg and began to feel along the bone, and then bandaged it.
Maggie let out a series of loud shrieks and growls as she fought against the guards. Her hair was currently a mix of red and yellow showing her anger and fear, her eyes were a harsh animalistic gold. She let out one last yelp as a guard struck her between the shoulder blades as they threw her in a cage. Once the door closed her hair and eyes faded back to plain brown thanks to the silver that coated the interior, except for the floor.
For the first few minutes Diara had thrashed and growled in the guard's hands, before concluding that he should just let it happen. He was pushed through the hallways, and eventually into a cell. Pain spiked from the shoulder he landed on, and he tensed and pulled his knees up to his chest. Despite that pain, that was not what worried him. What had his squeezing and his lungs sporadic was the fact that his hands were bound. He couldn't speak.
All his life, Diara had been a selective mute. He wad born with a genetic anxiety disorder, which affected his ability to speak to others outside those he was close to. However, the majority of the people close to him had died, so he became something of a full on mute and he only talked when truly needed.
He took a deep breath and sat up. He did a breathing exercise for a minute, the said, "Where am I?"
Crystal, having finished dressing Cas's wounds, left, and headed to Diara's cell. "You are in a testing institute." She said simply as she walked in. "I am Crystal…any broken bones or wounds?" A motherly aura hit you, able to relax anyone. Her ears pricked and flicked as her eye studied you. She had to work hard to be a doctor, but the awards though small and few, were priceless. She actually agreed with the institute and the genetic mutations, or so she thought she did. Whenever she began to disagree, she'd black out.
The teen did not want the girl anywhere near him, but he wasn't about to fight her without free hand movement and a non-functioning leg. There was a gash beneath his left knee, and although not very deep, it had broken open again during his struggles and had yet to quit bleeding. Caspian grimaced and forced back a cry of pain as her fingers pressed on a more tender part of his leg—the whole thing, really—in the process of rolling up his badly torn jeans. As she quietly bandaged his wound, he let his mind wander to how he'd managed to get hurt in the first place. It was stupid, really—he should've known better to steal from a place when he hadn't learned the security patterns, but he was too hungry to listen to reason. His sister was too hungry. So he'd gone ahead with his plans, and paid the price dearly when he was caught. His whole body was aching, but his leg received most of the abuse, as the thugs had reasoned "He won't come back if he can barely walk." Cas was lucky it wasn't broken. It was unfortunate, but the law didn't seem to apply to thugs who had no mercy for starving children. Still, at least they had let him walk away with his glasses, and they hadn't been the ones to jump him on the way back to his sister. When the girl—Crystal—was done, he quietly thanked her and strained his uninjured leg until he was again standing, or rather leaning, with his back still pressed against the wall. His body language made it clear he wanted remain as far away as possible from her.
"Could you free my hands? I'm selectively mute and I'm going to have an anxiety attack if I have to speak more," Diara called out. You really think she'll take pity on you? She's some kind of creepy doctor who wants to experiment, He thought. Plus, no one will probably even understand sign.
She noticed this and nodded, making a mental note, and continued helping the injured as she saw fit. Always kind, always warm. "And your welcome dear. If you ever need anything, just call my name." This in of itself was an irony, for many would cry her name during testing but in those moments it would fall on deaf ears. She did not enjoy this but what could she do?
(Everyone is just entering right now, most people are being stuffed in cells. join us!)
Cassie woke up with the worst headache of her life. "Am I giving birth to Athena?" She muttered. She went to rub her head, but her wrists seemed to be restrained. "Well. That's not a good situation to be in," she told herself. Looking around, she saw several more people in the cells around her, seemingly agitated. "Excuse me, sorry, would any of you happen to know where I am?" she asked the general group.
(Oof I hope this works)
Crystal, who was busy healing the others, answered in her kind ways. "You are in a experimental testing institute." Her fox ears flicked as she closed the cell she was in, and headed over. "I am a doctor and experiment, and scientist. Any broken bones?" Her sweetness was almost sickly now, just a little. She would have to return to her cell soon.
Cassie blinked. "Pretty sure my wrist is broken, or sprained. Nothing I can't handle," she said airily. "It's of my own doing, anyhow."
She nodded and walked in, set down her medic kit, and quickly did her best working around the restraints to fix it. She was quick and rough now, not light and delicate, delighting in the pain just a bit. "Sorry." She whispered, and then snaked back to her cell after putting her things away, watching everyone as she lay on the padded bench and looked around, eyeing everyone, trying to see what she could help turn them into.
Cassie hissed. "I told you I could handle it," she snapped, tapping her foot on one of the bars.
(How dark is it in the cells? Is it like a bright white laboratory or dingy dark cells?)
Crystal said in sickly tones. "Darling, it is my job. If I don't do it, my awards and specialties get taken away so I SUGGEST you be happy that I am a kind and well-trained healthcare professional and not some idiotic fool who would stick a needle in you and put you too sleep, or bashed your head in." (Hmm. Sort of dark but not pitch. I think dingy but like as one works their way up with privileges they can get like a side table and lamp and such)
Cassie glared. "Please, don't tell me what to be grateful for. I'll be grateful or ungrateful just as much as I please. And when I say that I don't need help, I do not need help, and I don't appreciate it being offered."
Crystal raised an eyebrow, and eyed her as her fox eye studied her. She glared, shook her head, and grabbed a book off a shelf. "Feisty." She pulled out a notebook, made a quick sketch, and began to write down what she knows as of each new individual.
