Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26571677-20160722105819

Eridius 'Umbrella' Craine walked down the corridor, taking no notice of the scientists all around him, bustling, and doing their jobs. He had been allowed a single hour of recuperation time after his last workout with his teacher, a tired, worn woman, who's eyes seemed to have seen too much of the world's ugly side. He had been told by his mother Narreau that she was a person suffering from PTSD, and was bound to act strangely.

Needless to say, he loved training with her. With a person so interesting, so intriguing to study....how couldn't he?

Eridius had heard that there was a transfer coming into this facility, apparently, a cripple, or so had been told. Using his logic, he could deduct that not being able to walk, would be rather miserable, to say the least, so he mentally steeled himself for the person's arrival. He would not get dragged down by her poor emotions, they would interfere with his training, to say the least.

He saw the doctors wheel someone in, and looked over their shoulder, face initially passive, and then turning into blatant shock as he saw her....not a he, like he'd expected. The girl had dirty blonde hair, sweeped behind her back, revealing her two, gorgeous brown eyes, that looked like chocolate, full of warmth, and surprisingly, with merth.

However...her body was something completely different, weak, and frail, undeveloped, but certainly not malnourished, no. It was as if she hadn't gotten any exercise, for her entire life, actually. This surprised him yet again, he hadn't expected for her to have been a cripple for her entire life, a few years at most, he'd imagined.

Yet...as the doctors laid her down on a bed, looking out of his right eye....she was full of mirth, good-humoured, and playful. Strange, very, very strange. Why? He did wonder, why was she so happy? Did she not realise what she was missing? The power to move? The power to run? Most curious....

But he wouldn't talk to her just yet, no, not for a while, until he received permission to from Narreau, he wouldn't do anything, lest he mess some plan of hers up. Turning around, he bumped into his mentor, grunting in apologies, and then gesturing to the patient behind him,

"Do you know who she is, my teacher?" 