08-10-2017, 08:26 AM
Sighing about the unfairness of the situation, and how young people should not be allowed to play with fireworks in the middle of the night near the homes of people who were trying to sleep off a migraine, he went to his wardrobe. Stripping down to his underwear which he quickly changed, Veritas had changed his ensemble. Gone was the blue jacket that had been badly damaged when his arm had been removed. In fact, the entire blue outfit that he had been wearing in the past had been removed by him, and replaced. Black jeans that were made out of leather were worn by him, having replaced the blue pants. Boots had replaced the shoes he had worn before, ones that were steel toed. Should it come down to his kidnapping again, he would be able to kick his opponents in the shin and possibly break some bones if they didn't take the hint. The next item of clothing to go was the blue shirt and jacket he had been particularly fond of.
Given the jacket had definitely seen better days, and was ripped in many places, it needed replaced. Of course it also had one of the arms cut off, as Doctor Kratz hadn't even bothered to let him change clothes during the surgery, but had decided to ruin the one outfit that he actually liked. Yet another reason for him to complain about the not so good doctor, mused Veritas. Of course he couldn't let himself dwell on that problem, not when there was a situation outside that needed his personal attention. The shirt like the jacket had suffered a brutal amount of damage. Since he couldn't sew new clothes, he pulled out a white long sleeve shirt that someone had left behind. Going to the washing machine, he cleaned the shirt thoroughly as he didn't want the germs of anyone else.
Once he was sure the shirt was clean, and he had dried it, he put it on his chest. The feeling of cotton against him helped to ease his worries, knowing that the shirt was of a good make was no substitute. It was the shirt of someone else. When the time came, he was going to get himself a new shirt, one that was not this one because he didn't like wearing the things of other people. It was why he hated the surgery that had been done by the doctor. The arm was not his own creation and thus he'd have to fix it up, so that he could actually make use of it.
His socks that had also been subjected to the "Inquisition" of the not so good doctor, were torn as well. He had replaced that pair when he had been changing his shoes to the boots that he had found. Dressed properly now, except for a couple of pieces he looked himself in the mirror.
There was something missing. But what?
Given the jacket had definitely seen better days, and was ripped in many places, it needed replaced. Of course it also had one of the arms cut off, as Doctor Kratz hadn't even bothered to let him change clothes during the surgery, but had decided to ruin the one outfit that he actually liked. Yet another reason for him to complain about the not so good doctor, mused Veritas. Of course he couldn't let himself dwell on that problem, not when there was a situation outside that needed his personal attention. The shirt like the jacket had suffered a brutal amount of damage. Since he couldn't sew new clothes, he pulled out a white long sleeve shirt that someone had left behind. Going to the washing machine, he cleaned the shirt thoroughly as he didn't want the germs of anyone else.
Once he was sure the shirt was clean, and he had dried it, he put it on his chest. The feeling of cotton against him helped to ease his worries, knowing that the shirt was of a good make was no substitute. It was the shirt of someone else. When the time came, he was going to get himself a new shirt, one that was not this one because he didn't like wearing the things of other people. It was why he hated the surgery that had been done by the doctor. The arm was not his own creation and thus he'd have to fix it up, so that he could actually make use of it.
His socks that had also been subjected to the "Inquisition" of the not so good doctor, were torn as well. He had replaced that pair when he had been changing his shoes to the boots that he had found. Dressed properly now, except for a couple of pieces he looked himself in the mirror.
There was something missing. But what?