[center][h2][color=goldenrod][b]"Parkinson" - Subject 332[/b][/color][/h2]

[img]http://i.imgur.com/ZMonEQg.gif[/img][/center]

[hr]

[color=goldenrod][i]Finally.[/i][/color]

They had toned down a bit, the vile echoes of this bickering would cease to vibrate in Parkinson's aching head. Her eye lids would slowly go into hiding, golden eyes emerging as the blinding luminescence of every room they were introduced to would have been migraine inducing had lost their hold on the girl's pain. Added to that benediction would be the eye sore departing from the area, clearing any form of queasiness his unholy presence would have brought upon the oblivious Parkinson. 

A sigh of relief followed, her eyes scrutinizing her surroundings she had ignored until now. Her head was still pounding, of course, but with a very distracting factor out of the way, she felt a brief relief of tension and could gather herself to deviate her attention away from the plague she was apparently born with. 

Something else would catch her attention however, or rather someone. The same person she had scolded would be the first to actually address her. Parkinson's eyes would brush over his being, noticing nothing in particular, other than her basic instinct to be wary of shady looking fellows. What did shady mean anyway? Why was he shadier than the rest? She didn't even know what that lingering term in her still searing head actually meant. But she didn't like it all too much, and like anyone easily susceptible to given ideas, she'd be quick to act upon them. With his approach, her stare would seem more confrontational, unwelcoming. She was on the defensive. 

"[color=goldenrod]Huh?[/color]"

The mention of pain, someone who seemed to be able to define what she was feeling so efficiently. This guy, he seemed preoccupied of her condition, unlike the others. That made her feel ... Vulnerable. Squinting her eyes at GHOST, the only man to show her kindness until now, Parkinson remained silent for an awkward set of seconds, hands lowering down over her thighs as her golden pupils oriented themselves downwards. 

"[color=goldenrod]I'm fine.[/color]"

Cold and direct, the reply would be swift and dry as her eyes veering back to fixate the man. His kindness and empathy had been taken for pity and opportunism. She did not appreciate being offered some sort of benevolence; the concept of having something free would be a rather tricky one in her confused mind. He obviously wanted something from her, or would be up to no good. Worse yet, he was probably trying to insult her. Insecurity soon ruled, the little of her frail body she could see would be projected onto the rest, and endlessly comparing herself to the others, she truly felt weak. 

Clenching her teeth, she'd stand up and march away as the rest did, leaving poor GHOST hanging with such a hostile rejection. It didn't help that she was indeed in constant pain, enough to severely mess with her rational mind. Add a little confusion and Parkinson was a lot less inclined to form her little network of friends. 

[color=goldenrod][i]Tch. I'm fine. If they're fine, I'm fine. I don't need these doctors anyway.[/i][/color]

Her aggravation only intensified the spikes of pain on her skull. Her palm ruffled her long, curly blonde hair as she tried to massage her scalp as much as possible to at least gain a mere second of relief. But her state of mind wasn't helping at all. 

The dorms, she instinctively rushed her way there as her integrated common sense dictated that she would find whatever she'd need there. And lo and behold, the opened rooms would display the goldmine oh so well. Beds. Just what the blonde needed. Stomping her way to the nearest one, and in her rush would have her shoulder collide with Boomi's who so happened to be holding Reina's locks of hair at that very time. Oh my. No apology would be made, of course. Only thing in Parkinson's mind would be the prospect of laying her throbbing head on a comfortable cushion. Whatever that was.