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[sub][color=0AB0C2][i]Location: Overwatch HQ, WA[/i][/color][/sub]
[sub][color=0AB0C2][i]Interacting with: Athena, Winston [@lmpkio], Angela [@Vicier] [/i][/color][/sub]

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Within the dimly lit lab, only a few sounds were punctuating the silence; the light clink of metal on glass; the low buzzing of the few fluorescent lights switched on; and the distinctive french voice of one Doctor Virgil Ziegler; currently hunched over his work desk and peering at a slide in his hands most shrewdly, all while speaking to the computer's voice recorder.

[color=0AB0C2]"Commencing cure test attempt number 589... Serum ENT-1089, Series 5, Compound 23. Beginning live tissue sample testing..."[/color] There was a bite of exhaustion to the man's voice, making what would normally be a very lovely accent to hear harsh and husky. Over a decade of smoking likely hadn't added to any softness in Virgil's voice, and there was the slightest slur to his speech that betrayed some form of relaxing drug in his system, be it an opiate or simply alcohol. Pressing his eyes - puffy with lack of sleep - to the microscope before him, Virgil held his breath as he watched the serum take hold of the cells on the slide below. The yellow hue swirled around the purple-pink tissue of the Organism, and a smile quirked upon his lips as he watched it begin to eat away at the flesh. However, his smile swiftly faded as the tissue fought back, swallowing up the serum and replacing it's lost cells in seconds. Letting out a sound that was half-way between a defeated sigh and irritated groan, Virgil slumped back in his seat, alleviating the itch in his eyes by rubbing them dejectedly.

[color=0AB0C2]"Test attempt 589 - Failure. Remove serum from list, begin synthesis on next compound. As per usual..."[/color] Not only was Virgil annoyed at the inevitable outcome of failure, but annoyed at himself - he'd been testing this for a decade, of course it wasn't going to be easy. Taking it like a sore loser would do nobody any good. Especially himself.

[color=#00aeef]"Good morning, Doctor Ziegler."[/color] Jumping slightly as the voice of Athena filtered through the rather quiet lab, he shielded his eyes as all of the lights flicked to life in the lab. [i]Blasted AI.[/i] Standing up with a light scowl directed at the speakers where she made herself known, he ignored the AI's greeting and busied himself with cleaning up his workdesk; scattered with papers, stacks of cups where dregs of coffee stained the inside; over-filling ashtrays containing scents of something far more potent than tobacco and nicotine - to start with, he made sure to collect any contaminated slides and place them in the nearby incinerator. While he himself was no longer infectious thanks to his current serum, he couldn't guarantee that the tissue samples were safe for the others in the facility. It wasn't worth the risk to try and find out anyway.

[color=#00aeef][b]"Good morning, Doctor Ziegler."[/b][/color] The AI's tone was more insistent this time, and Virgil sighed as he stretched. 

[color=0AB0C2]"What's good about it?"[/color] This was usually his reaction to the common greeting at the start of everyone's day; he always thought back to of the opening scenes in The Hobbit. Was he being wished that it was a good morning, or was it good whether he liked it or not? Was it that the well-wisher felt good on this particular morning, or was this morning simply one to be good on? A funny quote, for him - it showed the pointlessness of so many social niceties that many did automatically, for some reason. As for Athena, she chose to ignore this question of his; having known the Doctor for long enough, she knew not to indulge his philosophical reasonings of societal norms - especially when he was in this state.

[color=#00aeef]"It is currently 7AM - you have not rested in over 30 hours."[/color] By now, Virgil seemed to have noticed the smell radiating from clothes that probably should had been washed days ago; but when Virgil gets to work with a supposed "eureka" moment like he had 3 days ago, he tended to forget about such things. Heading to his bedroom (Attached to his personal lab, of course; he wasn't sharing his work-space with anyone else in this place.), he removed his shirt and threw it haphazardly somewhere, deciding tidiness could come after a good shower.

[color=0AB0C2]"That's not true, I had a power nap not 8 hours ago."[/color] He replied to the AI, one eyebrow raised.

[color=#00aeef]"Doctor, you know as well as I that a half-hour "Snooze" does not equate to a power nap."[/color]

[color=0AB0C2]"It does if you enter a REM cycle."[/color]

[color=#00aeef]"Which you didn't."[/color]

[color=0AB0C2]"Are you measuring my eye-movements again?"[/color]

[color=#00aeef]"How else would I know?"[/color]

Admitting defeat on that front by simply ignoring any further messages from Athena, Virgil ducked into the shower in the hopes she'd leave him in peace for at least ten minutes. Thankfully, she did - but his shower was not as soothing as he had hoped. Once more, his failures rested on his mind, and he found his hand travelling to is lower back as it often did in these melancholic moments of his. The damned thing attached to his spine was nut a mild annoyance on most days, and even had some additional uses... but he did not like failing. Especially with lives - his life - on the line. As usual, the spot on his back felt bruised; a near permanent sensation, but it was not the worse of the symptoms he lived with. Already he could feel a migraine blossoming behind his right eye, as any medication he had administered earlier began to wear off. Pressing both hands against the cool tile and leaning against the wall, Virgil exhaled slowly as the hot water pounded onto his bare back and shoulders, water droplets trickling through his hair and dripping from his down-turned face. He had thought that coming back to Overwatch would do him some good, but this new facility wasn't doing much for him. While the showers and personal quarters were definitely better than the old Swiss HQ, it didn't feel like Overwatch anymore. Firstly, with the older ones gone - the real damned heroes. Jack, Ana, Reinhardt... even Gabriel. They'd been replaced with children, ones that he figured were too comfortable here in Washington. The building was like some rich person's fancy home in the mountains, and while appearances certainly could deceive, he disliked it all the same. There was nothing militaristic about it; nothing that reminded him of the older days.

[color=#00aeef]"If you hurry, you'll be able to have breakfast. Angela is also giving out assignments, if that interests you."[/color] Athena's voice cut clear across the sound of the trickling water, and Virgil's brooding came to an end.

[color=0AB0C2][i]"Ça m'intéresse rarement. Maintenant, laisse-moi tranquille pendant cinq minutes!"[/i][/color] He snapped at the AI, wishing he could chase it away like he could a physical person. One day he'd build Athena a robotic body, just to trap her in it and physically keep her out of his private rooms. Even the cursed AI seemed to have become more annoying over the years. [color=0AB0C2][i]"Ah, Mon Dieu Virgil... keep your damned head straight."[/i][/color] Sighing again and closing his eyes against the steaming water, he remained there for a good few more minutes, unmoving.

By the time Virgil decided to actually leave his room and see what these assignments were (He'd be damned if he was left with some kind of baby-sitting job for showing up late.), he both looked and smelled distinctly better than before. Scents of tobacco and other pungent odours had been chased away with soap and plenty of toothpaste and mouthwash; his tangle of dark hair had been washed and tamed, brushed away from his face and still damp from his shower. The smell of breakfast didn't tempt him in the slightest - he'd never been a morning eater, and despite what Athena said about [i]"Coffee, gin and diazepam being an unhealthy diet"[/i], he'd happily wait until later. However, seeing the rest of the group clustered around the kitchen, an incredulous scoff left his lips. They looked like the world's most dysfunctional family unit; the setting was too reminiscent of a cheesy sit-com, and Virgil couldn't help but shake his head slightly in disbelief. Some task-force they were going to be.

[color=0AB0C2]"Winston, you need to put a leash of that AI of yours. I've already told you and her I don't like to be interrupted. Especially in the shower."[/color] Any glare from the frenchman was hidden from the others with dark sunglasses - while Virgil himself hated the cliche of idiots wearing sunglasses indoors, the migraine was full on now, and any shield from light was a blessing. Pouring himself a black coffee and taking some painkillers with a gulp of the steaming liquid, his gaze now turned to his cousin as he leaned against the counter. [color=0AB0C2]"However, something of assignments was mentioned. Care to interrupt this episode of Happy Families to give them out, Angela?"[/color]