[color=ed1c24]"I don't like it."[/color] One of them spoke quietly - a very tall, pale and emaciated-looking boy in his late teens with long black hair that had a single sad-looking white streak in them and wet, almost transparent skin. He looked like a really sad spider and walked a bit like he wasn't sure which of his legs was right and which was left at times. [color=ed1c24]"I don't like anything."[/color] Long, spindly fingers began to energetically scratch and scrape at the jumpsuit's fabric until they've got a hold of the zipper, immediately pulling it down in order to free himself from it's skin-tight embrace.
[color=ed1c24]"I don't like these suits. I don't like the air. I don't like Dr. Yukishima. Collars probably have microphones in them so they hear what we say. I don't like it too. Why are you staring?"[/color]