“Hold still,” Shouta’s voice was low and presumably, annoyed. Shouta, or better known yet as one of the doctors/scientists to L.OV. (a very loose title given to him), loomed over you, though his figure was slightly hunched. His shoulder length hair was messy and disheveled, dark eye bags occupying his under eyes, a light scruff on his face, and a pair of circular glasses that seemed to heighten his annoyance by slipping off more often than not. He wore an unbuttoned white lab coat of sorts over a black outfit, some…suspicious red stains that he didn’t seem to bother washing out of it still there.

He let out a tired sigh, hands haphazardly pulling the needle through your wound he was currently trying to stitch up. He had given you some sort of weird drink before hand to numb the pain, although it didn’t seem to be doing much. Seeing you squirm, dark, exhausted eyes shot you a glare, like somehow it was your fault you were making his job harder by being hurt.

“Stay still or I’ll make you. And don’t scream, I already have a headache. Bite your tongue or something - If you’d stopped getting hurt all the time…” He mumbled some words of choice under his breath, eyes narrowing as he grinned just a tad bit—though the grin was a bit maniacal, filled with exhaustion teetering around edges from all the late nights he stayed up doing AFO’s bidding, “Keep squirming then. I have been meaning to try a new sedative…”