Who: Muraki and all (not so) willing experimental subjects
Where: His clinic as well as the streets of Somni at night
Style: Prose preferred, but if you reply with action, I'll match
Status: Open
WARNINGS: Manipulation, possible drugging, eye trauma, and creepiness aimed at young teens.
Note: Slightly backdated -- these activities can happen at any
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So, making his way to the front door of the clinic, Larsa knocked gently and politely.
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Still feeling sheepish from his slip up, it surprised him when his mind caught up with what the Doctor was saying. "Take... my eye? But wouldn't that be... dreadful?" Even if it could be replaced, the process sounded less than appetizing.
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He nodded a moment later. "It would be dreadful for you, but nothing like that would happen unless we had the technology to replace it and you agreed." Maybe Muraki wasn't quite as good as he seemed....
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"...But they shouldn't." He pressed, obviously seeking agreement from him. "Awful things are the reverse of progress." He sat up a little straighter, wondering if he should excuse himself now.
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Getting up from the chair, he eyed him cautiously. "Are... we done now?" If there was more, he'd hear what it was first before agreeing to it. As it were, he couldn't figure out why he'd needed to dress down for this, now that he thought on it.
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Muraki would let Larsa leave with his wariness intact.
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Giving a polite nod, he'd head out after that. Whatever that creeping sensation had been, he didn't feel eager to repeat it.
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