[h3][center][color=82ca9d]Dr. Tristan Arceneaux[/color]
Location - Library
Interactions/Mentions – Vincent ([@RoccanIronclad]), Beatrix ([@Almalthia]), Caelia ([@Aamaya]
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Tristan stretched his arms above his head, leaning back in the chair. He had been stuck in here for hours, going through paperwork and collating data. He had been up and in his office since the subjects’ doors had been opened and while his colleagues were running tests and other, far more fascinating, scientific activities, Tristan was sat in this small room with nothing but a brightly lit monitor to keep him company.

Tristan stifled a yawn. It was an unfortunate necessity of research. Without it, a lot of the practical side of things was unusable for one reason or another. Tristan had been working on the cybernetics for Subject #940’s arm for the past eight days and had finally resigned himself to the fact that the data he [i]had[/i] collected, really did need writing up sooner rather than later.

So that was today’s thankless task; still, the sooner it was over, the sooner Tristan could return to doing the research he loved.
Tristan lent forward again, tapping more numbers into the database open on the computer, a rhythmic ‘click-click’ of the keys filling the small space. After a few minutes, one hand still typing, Tristan reached out to the papers on his desk, rifling through them.

[color=82ca9d]“Merde.” [/color]Tristan muttered under his breath, turning his full attention to the pile of papers. It quickly became apparent, however, that whatever the doctor was looking for was not to be found here. Tristan sighed, running a hand across his weary features. There was a book that he had been referencing that he had somehow misplaced.

Fortunately, whenever books were found lying around (it happened more often than you might expect) they were returned to the staff library. Unfortunately, a quick online search showed that the book in question was still checked out from the library, in his name no less. Sometimes, however, staff books were mistakenly placed in the subjects’ library; this book was unlikely to cause much damage in the hands of the subjects, so Tristan would not be surprised if it had been incorrectly shelved.

The doctor locked the computer and pushed himself away from the desk, taking the time to stretch out each of his stiff limbs. He [i]had[/i] been sat here for a long while now; the excursion would do him good, and it would benefit his eyes to look at something other than a monitor for a while. With a plan in mind, Tristan left his office and made his way from the staff quarters through to where the area of the facility that the subjects had access to.

Tristan was walking down one of the many identical, white corridors when he crossed paths with Subject #642. If looks could kill, that glare would have made Tristan drop dead mid-step. Despite the animosity, Tristan greeted Subject #642 with a smile and a nod of the head as he would with any other person here; staff or subject. Tristan was not about to let the foul mood of one subject dampen his affable demeanour; if he did, then the doctor would have become a twisted and bitter man [i]years[/i] ago.

Tristan did wonder what spurred Subject #642’s hatred of him though. As far as he could tell, he had only worked with them twice (as the research on Subject #642 was outside of his specialty), during their very early years at the facility, before they had been made mute. Tristan still remembered when he heard about the decision to remove the subject’s ability to talk; he had been opposed to the idea, saying that it had no scientific benefit as it would not enhance the subject’s abilities. All it would do was distress the subject [i]and[/i] waste valuable resources. The surgery had gone ahead regardless; as Tristan did not work with the subject his opinions were considered ‘less informed’.

Soon enough Tristan found himself at the subjects’ library. With any luck he would find the book he was looking for here. If not? Well, at least he got to stretch his legs. Besides, Tristan liked the sedate atmosphere of the library; it was hard to find elsewhere in this place.

When Tristan entered the library he noticed that two of the subjects were already there. Subject #007, a red headed woman who had been at the facility longer than Tristan, and whom he had never had need to work with; and Subject #616, an emotionless shell of a human (and Tristan could hardly blame her), whose throat he [i]had[/i] operated on.

[color=82ca9d]“Bonjour mesdames,”[/color] Tristan spoke, with a wave of his hand and an amiable smile, walking over to the nearest bookshelf, [color=82ca9d]“how are you two beautés doing today?”[/color]