Jace looked at Flo’s shocked face.

[i]D’oh Poor Baby. [/i]

His hand slid to Flo’s shoulder as he stood up, pressing firmly onto his skin… telling him to stay firm and strong. 
“That’s it, boy. Firm enough for my expectations. This is completely normal,” his gaze glided to the needles still in his arm. “Oh dear, yes.” He walked over to the desk, getting necessary equipment. His walking style was slouchy, casual. A part of his body seemed to sag, like something that was sad and hopeless. Confident but broken. Jace never felt it; he was oblivious to the features of his broken self poking outwards. The only thing that accounted for his poker face was his grin, the grin that was boasting confidence and his cunning demise. That which he showed as his slender figure, holding what looked like tissues and an ointment, turned around to look back at Flo. 
“So how do you feel about meeting those new people?” he asked, to avert from the minute pain Flo would feel as he slid the needles out, pressing Flo’s fingers onto the punctured skin for pressure. Then he looked up at him questioningly.
“Woops… I forgot you don’t really like speaking. Can you write?”

Jace stood back up and gestured him to follow him as he opened the doors that led out towards the doorway. He didn’t think Flo would be trouble, but he kept necessary equipment in his hazmat suit in case he should go… Berserk. 

[i]Because we’re cultivating monsters, not recognizing our own race. But maybe that’s just because we’re not human either. What would you become, young man? [/i]