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#zacharias : verse. the reaping. — in the service of science.
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@wrathiincarnate : Emmet — ❛ If anyone gets to end this world, it’s me. ❜ FINALLY GIVE ME ZACHIE POO THANK U
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"Hmh," Dr. Feeney snaps his fingers gently against the side of the syringe. His eyes are trained on the ominous fluid within. It's essential to get the dosage right, after all. The Deputy is too precious a specimen to accidentally turn into a braindead zombie. Not that Zach would ever call his darling creatures that. No, no.
"You know, delusions of grandeur in times of great stress aren't that uncommon." He remarks, mocking him with conversation. There's such a giddiness bubbling under his skin, boiling in his veins. Faith will want to have him, of course. The bunker will only hold Hope County's so-called hero for so long before she calls him by heel. But until then, he's in Zach's dedicated and adoring care. "It's a psychological defense mechanism, almost. That's why mania and depression go hand in hand. You have to get the illusion of control over your situation somewhere. Well, but this is reality."
The doctor turns to his strapped down, snarling subject. He's still drooling and slurring from the last dose of Bliss that entered his system, a body desperately trying to purge itself. The man's quite large so he's certain there are forgivable margins of errors.
"It's a shame you can't see a good thing when it hits you in the face. But I reckon this will adjust your perspective. Now hold still so I can find a good vein, will you?"
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tag drop: zacharias feeney.
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