[The doors open as more doctors and scientists shuffle out, their species multicolored with a variety of humanoid but alien forms. Back in the day, Rocket couldn't put a name to the species, but now he can. That one was a Krylorian, that one a Kree, and a couple Xandarians to round them out. They pay no notice to Prompto and Rocket and the two are able to slip in.
Rocket's breath hitches immediately, his whole body tensing up.
It's a stark white room- one of many. It's not very large, but from floor to ceiling to the left and right. At the other end is another door. Rocket knows the layout well. This part of the complex is built like boxes laying side by side in an odd geometrical pattern, making it maze-like and difficult to navigate because it was built for aesthetics and not function, back when this place was an asylum.
The largest cages are stacked on the bottom with smaller ones stacked neatly on top. Each one bears an electronic label above it with a subject number, vitals, and an x ray of the skeletal structure with some parts lit up in red and others in blue. There's percentages too, but none of them are marked at 100% completion. Every animal is varied- some are bizarre alien species, while others are from Earth- and the cages are too small. They make no sound when Prompto and Rocket enter, and while that may be because they can't be seen, there's a strong suggestion that they wouldn't make noise even if the person who entered was visible.
Rocket shakes off his tension, sucks in a breath behind gritted teeth and marches towards the door, expecting that he'll just keep his eyes forward and not pay attention to the creatures in the cages. He stops about a foot from the door, clenches his eyes shut, and then raises a hand to point at a cage.]
Fifth cage from the left, three from the bottom. Go ahead. I know you're curious.
[Maybe that's a bold assumption, but whatever. The best thing he can do is take control of it, otherwise Prompto might just find it on accident. And, indeed, where Rocket gestures there's a familiar brown-furred shape, awkwardly trying to curl up and sleep but given the raw wounds on its visible back and the fresh metal sticking out, it's finding a hard time getting comfortable. Every now and then it moves and elicits a whimper of pain.]
Those spine implants were the worst. I didn't sleep for a week after I got those in.
no subject
Rocket's breath hitches immediately, his whole body tensing up.
It's a stark white room- one of many. It's not very large, but from floor to ceiling to the left and right. At the other end is another door. Rocket knows the layout well. This part of the complex is built like boxes laying side by side in an odd geometrical pattern, making it maze-like and difficult to navigate because it was built for aesthetics and not function, back when this place was an asylum.
The largest cages are stacked on the bottom with smaller ones stacked neatly on top. Each one bears an electronic label above it with a subject number, vitals, and an x ray of the skeletal structure with some parts lit up in red and others in blue. There's percentages too, but none of them are marked at 100% completion. Every animal is varied- some are bizarre alien species, while others are from Earth- and the cages are too small. They make no sound when Prompto and Rocket enter, and while that may be because they can't be seen, there's a strong suggestion that they wouldn't make noise even if the person who entered was visible.
Rocket shakes off his tension, sucks in a breath behind gritted teeth and marches towards the door, expecting that he'll just keep his eyes forward and not pay attention to the creatures in the cages. He stops about a foot from the door, clenches his eyes shut, and then raises a hand to point at a cage.]
Fifth cage from the left, three from the bottom. Go ahead. I know you're curious.
[Maybe that's a bold assumption, but whatever. The best thing he can do is take control of it, otherwise Prompto might just find it on accident. And, indeed, where Rocket gestures there's a familiar brown-furred shape, awkwardly trying to curl up and sleep but given the raw wounds on its visible back and the fresh metal sticking out, it's finding a hard time getting comfortable. Every now and then it moves and elicits a whimper of pain.]
Those spine implants were the worst. I didn't sleep for a week after I got those in.