#godmarkd

@godmarkd

angela looks incredulous; it's hard to tell how much of it is genuine and how much of it is her playing into the bit. emre can't even stand, much less leave - besides, he most definitely does not have a box of swiss chocolates conveniently in his inventory.

"mr. sarıoğlu," she puts a hand to her chest, fingers delicately ghosting along the labels of her lab coat, "you wouldn't be suggesting i commit... medical negligence, would you?"

it takes everything in her not to crack a smile, though she's sure that the pain meds are keeping emre's mind more than occupied. still, she busies herself with adjusting the iv at the side of his bed, and she considers that maybe he needs a higher dose.

Emre's fingers curl into the back of Cole's collar the way a hawk's talons might find some unsuspecting prey. It's Abrupt and Precise, and Cole can feel his shirt creak at the stitchings as it yanks taut. He snaps a vice grip over the trunk of that wrist that's got that trimmer buzzing the sound of a lawnmower, strains distance between its vibrating, metal teeth and his head.

Cole chuffs, head duckin' down as he sways his weight from one leg to the next. His arms criss-cross from an akimbo over the chest as he eye-balls the monolith — some hulk of a slab emanating an electric, incadescent buzz. Just looking at it feels like it'll do something strange and unwanted to the organs.

" There's no point in freaking out about it everyday, i'd get nothing done and more than likely, i'll get in trouble for it. " she places a test tube back in it's place among the others before wandering over to one of the three enclosures in her lab. she slid open the glass door and reached in slowly, petting the king cobra that rested curled up inside.

Cole barks a grunt and the noise percussions off the back of his throat. His palms slick flat on foam sparring mats as he folds the balls of his feet beneath him and stands, momentum careening sweat off his brow into a free-fall splatter that audibly drip-drops to the floor.