#01moonshade

Yesol won't call himself a saint. He got not only himself but big list of people that'd be ready to punch someone to prove them correct. Even his only friend says would agree on it.

But there's got to be some kind of limit to the kind of nonsense you have to deal. Couldn't they sent Kwangsu Park instead of him?! Or did this have something to do with those letters bursting out of his postbox.

The lab equipment on the table comes down crashing, spreading all over the floor and on Yesol's palm.

" FUCK!!!! "

He might have swiped that all down but it's not on him they've locked him onto some kind of fucked up facility. He can afford to crash some glass. He marches onto the pile of kind of suspiciously not so clean looking paper towels and aggressively grabs a couple, to dab some of that blood off. That's when the door opens.

He swears nobody around here looks normal. Who tattoos their face?! Doesn't he have job to search for?! He hopes for the guy's sake it's not the real deal or that he's not looking into office work.

" Whoaaaa. "

Finally someone that he could potentially find from the neighbouring desk at work. He doesn't know if it's someone he would get along with but right now the common denominators matters more. Yesol almost feels like grasping the guy's hands. He could cry and, really, he almost does.

" I'm not alone.... "

" *sob* ...finally someone who's not a total weirdo. "

He plants his arms on the man's shoulders. He's kind of pretty - considering the circumstances. Not TOO tidy though. Anymore well kempt and he'd be pissed off since he himself is so far from star condition.

He hates to talk like an old man but Yesol doesn't run like he used to. A heavy breath pushes out like nausea as drags against the wall, legs sprawling on the floor. He goes numb from exhaustion, spacing out for who knows how long because he's out of his sense of time already.

The robot got his thigh, barely scraping the lucky bastard he is, that's about the only thing he's clocked thus far. He's beginning to think it's some kind of drunken delirium even though he hasn't drank a drop since his arrival.

Then something burrows onto his ear. A sound, annoying one if he's all honest. It keeps nagging him until Yesol finally loses it.

" SHUT THE HELL UPPPPPPPPPP---- "

His head snaps along his voice and instantly he goes quiet.

For one second until he burst into completely unhinged laughter, hand pointing. He draws out the phone he found out he had way earlier and snaps a picture.

" Just how much did I drink last night... "

He remembers the first six but after that it's all a blur. What's left is earsplitting headache and nausea slowly creeping on him as he stares out from the window that no matter what seems like a moon.

It's totally realistic, he could fall for it but there's a limit to how blackout drunk you can get to end up in this kind of place by accident.

" What kind of hospital is this.... " he mumbles as he moves out from the tackily futuristic cell to the corridor. Those sirens scared the living daylights out of him, the red and all. Almost choked him with his own vomit that he'd released down on the floor upon waking up. He's still got some on him but he has to get out of here first. Has to be some kind of human rights violation. What did that announcement say again... Test subjects?

Now that one definitely is! Did the company sell him to this or what? Wouldn't put it past that damn slavedriver Kwangsu Park at least. Pisses him off!

Finally he notices someone at the other end of the corridor. Instantly he picks up space, making it to the vague form of a human only to realize a sprint like that had been a little too much on his body.

" Hey, do you k-- BLEAARGHHHH!"

Yesol almost dives into the sink, mouth wide open like he was a dog wetting its throat for the first time in weeks. It spills past his mouth onto his jaw and cheeks where it washes off traces of caked vomit and dirt.

Finally he gets it on his hair and spreads it on his neck, patting where he can, not minding his collar getting wet.

Looking into mirror he's faced with tired eyes, bags and all. Unspecified dirt here and there remains, needing bigger scrub. He tries to style his hair what he can but its pretty feeble attempt.

That's where he notices the man standing on the other side of the crack on the mirror. His eyes slowly move on the side.

" Haha, seen better days... This face I mean. Yours looks mighty fine though. "