As Adam used the walking aid, he realised he absolutely did not need to use it at all. His spine was fully healed, to the point where it felt even better than before! He still used the walker out of courtesy, however. The walk was awkward, if not slightly amusing, as he walked better than what a walking aid could help him do, and Bruce kept pestering the doctor with constant questions; some innocent, some stupid, and some just downright disturbing. Adam just kept quiet as the annoyed scientist ignored the curious monster on his back.

Eventually, they reached a very plain cafeteria of some sort. "You have 30 minutes to eat," said the scientist, before leaving them. Adam set aside the walker, and moved to the tables. Taking a tray and a spoon, he turned to find a place to sit, before being interrupted by, "Mate, I got these cuffs, can't grab me own tray!"
"Do you even need to eat? We are connected you know."
"Ya think I get this without sustenance?"
Bruce slapped his rock hard abs and whatever other thick muscles he could reach with his hands in cuffs.
"You have a point," replied Adam, and he took another tray and another spoon. He placed the second tray next to the first one as he sat down, and opened the lid. As he tucked in, Bruce cleared his throat.
"Forgettin' someone, mate?"
"What?"
"I can't eat like this!" He knocked Adam on the side of his head with his cuffs.
"Feed me."
"Huh?"
"Feed me, I'm bloody famished mate, fuaaark!"
Bruce konked Adam once again, this time with much more force, and resignedly, Adam opened up Bruce's tray, and began spoon feeding the monster on his back, absolutely humiliated.

As he saw the tube making a sharp turn right in front of Flo’s face, his face contorted into one of utter shock and he froze in midair.

So this is a scientific breakthrough, eh?

Putting his hands, casually, back into his pockets, he strolled down to where the tube had shattered on the wall.

“Fascinating, Flo. See what ‘refinement’ meant now?”

His view focused once again on Flo as his attentive gaze remained firm while he walked back to Flo. He certainly didn’t seem so tortured anymore. Did using the telekinesis make the headache better?

Jesus, Flo. You’re like something shipped right out of a marvel comic.”

He grinned. The poor confused boy.

“Now everything will be clearer in a few minutes. But right now, I need to show you that you’re not alone. Moral support, aye?”

It was about time they go to the common room anyway; it was already late. He reached out to him with a rough, strong hand.

“Can you stand?”

Looking away from her patient, Emma busied herself with making sure she had gathered all her things. She heard his quiet footsteps as he made his way to her and turned to look at him again to answer his question, green eyes widening slightly at his raised hand. She blinked questioningly, shifting her gaze from his hand to his eyes, as if to ask him, what were you trying to do?. She realized she really didn't want to know the answer to that.

"Ca-Cafeteria," she replied, feeling that it was safer to just ignore it. She began to walk towards the said place, making sure he was following her. "You'll have thirty minutes to eat and then you'll be taken to the recreation room. Please don't cause any inconvenience to the other patients while you're there. Otherwise you'll be locked up and not allowed any further interactions with anyone," she explained, talking not only to inform him of what to expect, but also to keep herself calm.

When they reached the door to the canteen, she swiped her card in the slot and the doors slid open, revealing her senior colleague just about to leave. "Dr. Note," she nodded to him as she entered the room.

Still in shock, it was hard to focus on what Jace was saying, when he had so many things to say himself. So there were others like him? Florence was almost afraid to ask what the scientists did to them. If they could do this, he doubted they would limit themselves to it.

Florence realized that meeting others was never a strong suit of his, but his added speech problem might prove to make things impossible. He was lucky if he could get a yes or no out, meet and greets weren't going to happen for a long time.

Could he stand? That was a good question. He took the man's help, and was surprised to find that while his posture wasn't spot on, he could support himself.

About to try and ask a question, Florence stopped himself. He was learning it was better to just trust the doctor. He instead gestured to the needles still in his arm.

"You're late." He replied back just as curtly, meeting her courteous nod with a sharp glare, barely glancing at the white mop of hair that turned towards him, yellowed eyes meeting the man's for a mere moment before he hurriedly turned away and made his way to the observation deck where he expected he would run into Dr Winters again. He wasn't really in the mood to discuss experiences with the entire fiasco he had been out through with the broken spine, but it wasn't like one could exactly avoid talking about such a thing.

Certainly, this self regeneration ability didn't bode all too well for the boy, though it would probably be a crucial focus of all future studies. Already, Luka had to wonder exactly how far such an ability could be pushed if a broken spine could be realigned and mended within minutes. Not to mention...Substance X2Z....He still hadn't received any word back on the samples sent in.

---

He wasn't sure what to expect of the 'canteen', firstly it was much bigger than he had expected and it largely reminded him of the facility. Was this....He turned around to ask when he the door closed automatically on him and he was left in the cafeteria...not so alone.

The bickering was readily filling up the echo chamber that was the cafeteria, coming from the rather grotesque lone figure sat in the middle of the cafeteria. He chose to stay where he was, giving himself to scrutinize the seemingly intelligent creature that muttered madly to its misshapened self. He wondered if such a being belonged to his own mind as well or if it was as real as the woman who had brought him here. He wasn't all too willing to find out by approaching the beast so he just stood there until his stomach growled softy in response to what edible substances lay beneath the trays.

Jace looked at Flo’s shocked face.

D’oh Poor Baby.

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.

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?

He watched Jace walk, actually taking the time to observe him. Even through the hazmat suit, he could see his way of walking. For someone involved in something like this, he should have more pride. Florence thought. But should he? After all, so far the side effects seemed pretty terrible. But maybe it would get better, and in time he wouldn't even have a migraine anymore, and he could have coherent thoughts and he could form them into words that made sense. More than anything he wanted to keep that outlook on this situation.

Florence didn't look too excited to be meeting other people. He was surprised to find that he wasn't getting overly anxious about the situation, but it still wasn't something he was looking forward to. He doubted that they could be in any better of a shape than he was in, and was almost afraid that it would be much, much worse. He watched as the doctor pulled the needle out with mild disinterest, and shrugged. He woke up not even half an hour ago, and most of that time was spent curled up in pain. How would he know if he could write or not? However, it did seem like it would be easier than talking.

The sudden intensity of the fluorescent lights in the hall amplified Flo's migraine once again. He could barely make out the sparse details in the hallway, and trailed Jace closely, almost resembling more of a lost, sad dog than a human. Jace was his rock, and he didn't want to be far from the only thing he knew in the hospital.

As he was being fed rather begrudgingly by Adam, Bruce noticed a white-haired person enter the room nervously. Adam paid no attention, as he was focusing on feeding two people at once. Bruce, however was staring intently at the boy. Something about him bothered him. Perhaps his walk, perhaps his appearance. Perhaps something... else. Either way, Bruce decided to be friendly.
"Mate, ya' look so bloody depressed, you two could be sisters!"

He nodded towards Adam, as he took yet another bite of the indescript slop that was "served" to them. Bruce's random outburst caused Adam to look back up, and see the guy standing by the serving table. He stopped eating/feeding for a moment. "Are you... another subject?"

So, little monster? Overwhelmed of the world yet?

Jace’s visage turned into one of indifferent boredom, not even paying attention to Flo’s flinching at the striking lights. Then, a smirk spread on his face. If you’re a little monster, then what are we? Fucking humans. Call yourself that, and then prove that even demons are more human than you.

The world will destroy you, little monster.

Suddenly, his attention snapped back to Flo. Why was he flinching so much? His gaze glided up to the piercing lights.

Damn, yes. The lights suck the very soul out of you.

“Flo? Hold on there, boy. You’ll get something in a second.”

He slowed his pace and supported Flo with his left arm, holding up as if he were a numb sack of potatoes. “I think you might be hungry. That could get you more comfortable. Meanwhile, close your eyes and let me lead you so the lights don’t bother you so much.”

He tried smiling, but it came across as an awfully pathetic, consoling sigh. He led him through the bleak hallways, pushing back the claustrophobia. The thought of what the hell he was doing only made it worse. But he didn’t feel guilty. No, it wasn’t guilt. He was, diagnosed, afterall… by his own friends, family…

Fucking Psychopath.

Think you’re cool, sociopath?

All because the death of her was too much. Did that make him the monster.
Does that make you a monster, Flo?

He entered the cafeteria and looked around, searching for other people.

Again, he found himself resenting Jace's words. The man had to mean well, right? It didn't matter. The way he talked reminded Florence of the way someone would talk to a dog, or a small child. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel this way at hospitals, but all the sudden stress was only amplifying his contempt.

Despite all this he still allowed the man to assist him, still too numb to really put up a fight.

Florence unceremoniously flopped down on a seat, crossing his arms on the table and putting his head in them. He heard someone talking, but hadn't even taken the time to look at them. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see them. Either way, he couldn't bring himself to care about anything in the room; even the food was a last priority to him.

Right now he wanted nothing more than to do nothing, or at least some more time to get used to his situation before he was thrown into everything. God knows how long he spent in the coma they put him in, but it was better than this. Really, he wanted to be home. He wanted nothing more than to be home in his small apartment in his shit town doing his HVAC work and adorning his parakeet with affection when he had the chance.

He had been though hospitals enough to know how awful each stay was, but he had a feeling this would be a much, much longer stay. He turned his head so that the right side of his face was on the table, focused solely on Dr.Schwarzlicht.

What happens from now, I wonder.

Really, paying then to watch people eat. He doubted sincerely that they would discern any serious sort of new study from that, though they would have to watch their digestion to see if the food was suitable for them. It should provide adequate nutrients, but if one of them had to follow some special dietary plan then there could be some problems. Particularly he worried about how his experiments'....extra appendage would affect his normal working system. The x-Ray was...having a little trouble developing.

Standing by the observation deck, he sighed as he over looked the pristine cafeteria

---

This wasn't his friend, he didn't know this creature with it's harsh voice and rash words, but he really wasn't sure what to do so he just stood still until the creature's words grazed his ears and he lifted his head up to stare at it. Eyes wide with uncertainty, he didn't seem to grasp it's words. Staring blankly at him.

His throat felt dry and swollen all of a sudden when he tried to speak to dispel the creature's strange bindings over him. So instead he just stared until the creature turns away and he shuffled closer, stopping whenever eyes were fixed on him.

Jace looked around the room, assessing the people there. He caught a glimpse of a white haired guy, looking frail and nervous, at the serving table. His eyebrows raised as he saw the odd guy bickering around. His loud voice filled the room, and they had just started on a conversation with the white haired kid. His brows furrowed.

Yeah, those two idiots will get Flo nervous.

He was itching to see Flo’s reactions to others. He turned back around to find himself gazing into Flo’s eyes. For a guy who can’t speak right, his eyes told quite a lot. He let out an exasperated sigh and raised his eyebrows in a shrug, leaving his gaze resilient, rested on his experiment. Trying his best, he silently eyed him:

You pull yourself together and advance, poor shrimp.

His cold, thin fingers slid across the table and took his left wrist, measuring his pulse briefly. After seemingly being happy with what he felt, he grabbed his notebook, and stood up, the chair slicing the cold cafeteria air like a knife screeching on glass. A smirk on his face, he murmured:
“Now Flo, I want you to collect a snack for yourself. Do not show the others your telekinesis, but if you need it to regulate that migraine of yours, move subtle things, like the paper shreds on this dirty floor. I will be in the corner watching. Try communicating with the guys. I’ll give you a board to write on later. Try the white haired boy, and don’t be intimidated by that other dude.”

If looks could kill Jace would be dead when he stood up, Florence flinching due to the noise. He gave an irritated look. Communicate with them? What was he supposed to do, learn sign language? Speak in Morse code? He sighed, but nonetheless picked his head up from the table.

Looking at the other two subjects in the room, he suddenly found himself staring at the sentient mass of flesh on a person's back. What the hell was that thing? Of all the things they could have done to him, he found himself glad it wasn't that. If he had even a shred of luck they wouldn't turn their attention onto him.

His six-foot four-inch frame fought with him as he forced himself up. He felt his energy would be much better spent trying to ignore everyone else in the room as he went back to sleep, but he knew by now that it was best to do what he was being asked of. Florence lumbered over to the serving area, only taking a single clementine. If he was hungry, he was too nauseous to care. He absently tossed the clementine back and forth and took his chair back.

It was obvious he was procrastinating on talking to the white haired kid. How was he even supposed to start? It's not like he could speak past simple words, and even those intensified his migraine to think about. He only started thinking about it once he finished peeling his fruit, and even then just sat there for a good five minutes staring at it.

Eventually it seemed as if he gave up the hope to get out of any communication. He slouched back in his chair, staring at the other until they caught their attention, and once they did they gestured for them to come over. If they didn't come over, he knew he wouldn't get up himself to go greet them. It was hard enough to get up and walk by himself once in the harsh light, he wasn't about to put himself through that again so soon.

Jace, hidden in the corner of the cafeteria, observed Flo with a tilted head. He must have a shitty appetite, poor bloke.

I wonder what a biological experiment would do to your appetite. Probably totally kill it.

Seeing him so helplessly there, Jace decided to walk over to Flo again. He towered over him, shaking his head. But there was a smirk on his face.

“Feeling dizzy, boy?”

He shifted his tall, lean figure onto the chair opposite to Flo and held out a single paper clip in front of his face, then letting it drop to the floor beneath them.

“Focus, Flo. Move it around on the floor, and then try lift it up, and try make it so those chums don’t notice.”

Of course Jace came back as soon as Florence was starting to feel okay about not being next to somebody. Hell, he was even starting to enjoy the space and be given a chance to be as alone as they would let him. Okay, sure, maybe he wasn't making as much progress as they hoped he would.

But then again, the fact that he was breathing was an accomplishment in itself.

Florence shied away from him as the man stood in front of him. He hated people doing that to him. In past situations he always reacted badly to it, and it never turned out well. Jace was soon reminding him of the stereotypical overbearing mother.

Watching the paper clip fall, he sighed. While he felt his headache getting worse, Florence wanted to do everything in his power to avoid using his telekinesis. He wanted to avoid even thinking about it. It was terrifying. It was terrifying, and in turn he was terrified of himself. He didn't intend to move it, either, until he accepted the fact that Jace wasn't going anywhere until he did something.

He put his head on the table once more, just sitting like that for a good few minutes. Finally he picked his head back up, slouching into the chair even more before focusing on the object. Even if he was only moving it a few inches at a time, it was still apparent that he was having trouble even keeping this under control, and not send it flying across the room. The smallest noise distracted him, sometimes causing a few inches to become a few feet.

Something small thwacked him on the back of his head. Stunning him for a good second before his senses kicked in and his head snapped back as he whirled around, adrenaline rushing through his veins as his eyes sought out the source of what had shot the...the..little paperclip that lay idly on the floor at him. Suddenly, he felt unsure as he noticed the solitary boy that sat not too far away from them, along with..a much taller man hunched over at the chair opposite of him. Golden eyes blinked, his will to start a fight leaving him, and they became unsure and paranoid at the sudden arrival of these new faces. Was he going mad? Or were his senses simply fading away to the point he didn't even notice what was around him anymore.

Slowly, he unclenched his fists, not realizing that he had clenched them in the first place. He stared for a good minute at the two, more normal and quieter than the first that had caught his attention, then his eyes darted away before they returned back to staring until finally he hung his head and looked as if he was guilty of intruding on something private. His arms drawn inwards and his shoulders still tense. Promptly, he jumped as a voice blasted over the speaker.

"Dr Schwarzlict, please report to the observation deck. A reminder that Social interaction with the subject is scheduled for late."

Annoying.
Luka wasn't pleased as he watched the man blatantly breach the briefed schedule and interact with his subject out of instruction and regulation of safety. Bastard was lucky just because it was he that spotted him and no one else. Still, he couldn't say it was interesting seeing what the subject was apparently capable off. Abnormality of the brain? Or the more laymen term of psychic ability. That was worrying.. He didn't think that such a great development could arise from simple realigning of the brain neurons and administration of Absobilithium Cynite IV. That of which was still experimental and seemed to be having some catalystic effects with other substances they were exuding.

He'd received the order to take more blood samples from the subjects.

Jace looked down at his annoyed experiment. Sticking his notepad back into his briefcase, he shot him an apologetic glance.

“I’m sorry Flo. But trust me on this; Solitude is the last thing you’re getting in this damn place. It’s even out of my own power to give it to you. I want you to muster up all that, and begin focusing.”

His glance shot over to the young white-haired frail-looking boy staring over at them. Woops, that was the paperclip. He quickly pounced over, picked it up, and sat back down. Not looking at the other experiment, he gave a quick shout out:
“Must have kicked it too hard. Sorry m’lad.”

The paperclip fell from his and onto the desk in a shiver as he heard the announcement. An annoyed, contorted visage crept over his face.

What does that depressed old man want now?

He sat up, adjusted his tie under his lab coat, as bleak as the walls of the facility, and the expression vanished from his face. He reverted back to his old relaxed self. He murmured under his breath.

“Flo, the migraine hits you because your mind is trying to concentrate on so much… all at once. Focus on anything; you don’t have to move it, but just focus. I guess you’ll be rid of me for a bit, old chap.”

With that, Dr. Schwarzlicht stood up, and started moving towards the observation desk, leaving Flo behind. His poker face hid his loathing within: squirming, angry, swearing.

I wonder what justification you have to be such a snob. These ‘experiments’ have much bigger a reason to be pissed.

He arrived at the desk, and spread his signature smirk. The glint in his eye told of the opposite.

“Yes, Doctor Lucario?”

Florence almost cringed when he saw the paper clip hit the other. He felt guilty over it, giving them a worried glance. They seemed about ready to fight. He figured he could hold his own against them, but fighting was one of the last things he wanted to do here. Maybe he should apologize? Before he could even think of how to speak, Jace was apologizing for him. Well, that's one way of doing it.

His reaction was more suited to a cannon going off than a loudspeaker coming to life, but it was all the same to him. Dr. Schwarzlicht? Florence glanced around before seeing the annoyed look on Jace's face. So, that was his name. Interesting. He listened to the man's advice, and slowly nodded. Maybe focusing on something would do him good, it wouldn't leave him room to think about his situation. He couldn't wait until he had a means of communicating, because there were some questions that he really wanted answered.

He shook his head, once again putting it on the table. At this point it might as well just be his bed. Of all things to focus on, he chose his clementine, slowly peeling it and getting every part of the skin off. It wasn't much, but it was helping at least a bit.