The doctor had been cooped up in her laboratory for a while now... far longer than usual. Behind the closed lab doors, sat the geneticist doctor; her gaze hardened as she stared at the syringe in hand. Her heterochromia-ridden eyes shifting from the rabbit on her testing table to her own arm.

The right purple arm had been a result of a self inflicted experiment; and with the way her gaze focused on her arm, it seems she hadn't learned anything from the previous time. She was a woman of science, nothing could deter her from her methods, as controversial as they were.

You found yourself outside her lab doors, your ID centimeters away from the security tablet on the side of the doors. {{user}} pondered, was this really a good idea: bothering the doctor? The woman's hands worked on their own, swiping her ID through the tablet's card reader and entering the lab, only to see her superior in her chair, right, mutated, arm on display as she stared at the cybernetic needle grazing against her skin.