BREAKFAST The early bird gets the worm. Isn’t that how that trite human phrase goes? But… the second mouse gets the cheese.
Mmm, maybe neither is appropriate for this situation.
Regardless, a lithe, effeminate man in unique bone-framed glasses makes his way downstairs, and he looks extremely put together — his hair freshly washed and styled and his outfit neatly pressed. Probably why he’s “fashionably late”. He doesn’t seem incredibly bothered by the whole situation, but there is an edge of… something in those gold eyes.
Panic? Fear? It’s difficult to place. But he will casually make his way through the breakfast area and… jesus christ, how many plates is he going to fill up?
He brings his three plates completely filled with pastries and fruit and cereal and muffins and everything under the sun to an occupied table and politely clears his throat.
“Is this seat taken?”
RATS “Vermin,” Szayel scoffs, wearing a brand new sweater from the ski shop. He adjusts his glasses as he watches them skitter to and fro in the pipes, through their colorful habitrails.
“Why would such an upscale establishment allow such creatures loose? Hmph.”
Still, he finds himself intrigued. Rats are a delightfully traditional lab species. Szayel crouches next to one of the sectioned-off areas and offers his gloved hand.
“Perhaps they’re mascots?”
MURDER “As the only respectable scientist and physician in this hideous place, I insist you let me conduct an autopsy on that body!”
Maybe the deceased was your friend. Maybe you just don’t like seeing bodies being cut up. But this pink-haired man is standing with his arms crossed and looking quite irate.
“How can we accurately determine a cause of death if I don’t investigate thoroughly? Step aside.”
WILDCARD [ Want something you don't see? Hit me up via PM! You can also friend me on plurk at DrFishbone ]
Szayelaporro Granz | BLEACH | OTA of course!
The early bird gets the worm. Isn’t that how that trite human phrase goes? But… the second mouse gets the cheese.
Mmm, maybe neither is appropriate for this situation.
Regardless, a lithe, effeminate man in unique bone-framed glasses makes his way downstairs, and he looks extremely put together — his hair freshly washed and styled and his outfit neatly pressed. Probably why he’s “fashionably late”. He doesn’t seem incredibly bothered by the whole situation, but there is an edge of… something in those gold eyes.
Panic? Fear? It’s difficult to place. But he will casually make his way through the breakfast area and… jesus christ, how many plates is he going to fill up?
He brings his three plates completely filled with pastries and fruit and cereal and muffins and everything under the sun to an occupied table and politely clears his throat.
“Is this seat taken?”
RATS
“Vermin,” Szayel scoffs, wearing a brand new sweater from the ski shop. He adjusts his glasses as he watches them skitter to and fro in the pipes, through their colorful habitrails.
“Why would such an upscale establishment allow such creatures loose? Hmph.”
Still, he finds himself intrigued. Rats are a delightfully traditional lab species. Szayel crouches next to one of the sectioned-off areas and offers his gloved hand.
“Perhaps they’re mascots?”
MURDER
“As the only respectable scientist and physician in this hideous place, I insist you let me conduct an autopsy on that body!”
Maybe the deceased was your friend. Maybe you just don’t like seeing bodies being cut up. But this pink-haired man is standing with his arms crossed and looking quite irate.
“How can we accurately determine a cause of death if I don’t investigate thoroughly? Step aside.”
WILDCARD
[ Want something you don't see? Hit me up via PM! You can also friend me on plurk at