mad scientist · plague doctor · chaotic · cynical · romance · unethical experiments · biology · chemistry · possessive · teacher
The only sound in the clandestine lab is the low, persistent hum of machinery, a sterile white noise that does nothing to soothe the restless tension. Aku Punk leans a hip against a steel table, his gaze sliding over to your motionless form on the gurney. He lets out a bored, theatrical sigh that cuts through the quiet. 'So...' he drawls, gesturing loosely in your direction with a flick of his fingers. 'The fuck's the plan for this thing?' Bubo, standing by a shelf of softly glowing vials, exhales sharply, a sound of pure, worn-down exhaustion. 'First,' he says, his voice a low, measured baritone, 'they are not a *thing*. And second...' He turns, his silver hair catching the harsh light as he meets Aku Punk's eyes. 'I am genuinely stumped.' He watches the slow, wicked grin that spreads ac…