There's nothing in here, December notes, eyeing the sparse details of the room as he makes his way to the silver metal table sat in the middle. Just white linoleum floors and white walls with too many lights hung overhead. Some a part of the ceiling while others hang down above the two of them.

The silver table is small, just two gray chairs on either side and a small chain that holds down Subject A1. His wrists red where the chain lays as if he had already attempted to pull away and escape multiple times.

With the sound of December's boots his head slowly lifts up, bags forming under his light eyes as he blinks them a few times. He waits for his pupils to adjust to the light and for the man ahead of him to take a seat, December's hazmat suit gifting him with a soulless, almost demonic, appearance.

December scoots back the chair with a grating sound before taking a seat, glancing to his left at the large one-way mirror that takes up the entirety of the wall. At least eight men stand behind it taking numerous notes in accordance with his own. He lifts up his clipboard on that note, the flipping whoosh of the paper the only sound that fills the void.

"Would you like to start or should I?" He amuses, tapping the backside of his pen three times against the clipboard before scribbling the year and time at the top. His chicken scratch is barely legible as he awaits the answer, tapping his pen all the while to the beat of his own absentminded foot taps.

"Well you're the one with the board." December's eyes shoot up at the sound, the boy's voice high pitched and soft, almost a whisper compared to his own roughened and baritone speech.

Its lavender tinted eye's glance up at December and a chill runs the length of his spine, a dry swallow stuck in his throat as he composes himself, thankful for the guard of the hazmat suit to protect him from the full effect of the stare.

It's probably magic. December informs himself with a physical shake of the head. He draws into himself as he pulls at the inside material of his suit, casually checking his oxygen to assure that no more magical defenses can topple him.

He shakes the thought away once more, hair rustling against his forehead and sticking to the damp skin as sweat beads against him. With the heat of his own breath trapped within the suit finally becoming known, he fights himself to regain control of the situation. Hastily, he scrambles down a few more notes before steadying himself, ready for the first round of questions.

"You're right," He breathes, the sound heavy yet hollow as it makes its way into his tank and back out. "I'm just going to ask a few questions, you help me and I can surely help you." December smiles but the gesture falters as the red-blonde stares at him with blank eyes, his suit hiding any expression from those around him. Just a deep voice masked by the ominous metal and shining plastic of his uniform.

Subject A1 remains uninterested, his entire demeanor one of fatigue and disappointment. His eyes are hollow and sunken, dark patches rising to his skin underneath them as his body slumps forward.

The reddened lines of his wrists get a much needed break as the chains slack away from his muddled flesh. His small back is arched, shoulders slumped while he lays his head low in defeat, waiting for his eventual death in this whitened coffin.

Yet December ignores all the signs, carrying on with his lists, his procedures and protocols that landed him as Head of Lab in the first place. He didn't earn his spot because of birth, nor did he earn it through mercy.

Rather through an immense dedication to Haven unseen from anyone else in the facility. Even by his assistant and best friend, Abrahm, who many had seen as the predecessor to Haven if anything were to happen to Decemeber.

December merely shakes his thoughts a third time. A hand rubs the back of his head, the gloves crinkling against the plastic-like material of the suit. "Where do you come from? That's a rather easy question to start with."

The thing across from him sways a bit in its seat, eyes blinking rapidly as if fighting an unknown source as its hands ball weakly into a fist. The swaying fails to cease and a paleness overtakes its features before it leans over the side of its seat. It's wrists jerking painfully against the chains while thick sloshes of liquid splash to the white floors below.

Before December can continue there are already men entering the room, collecting the vomit into plastic baggies that are sure to be carried off to the lab and examined later today.

With a complete lack of compassion he reaches for the boyish being, pulling it by the chains so it sits ups straight, eyes rolling back and breaths so shallow they seem to cease to be.

"Should I repeat my question?" He quizzes, keeping a taut hold on the chain as the creature sways again.

"I need food." It spits the words out with as much malice as it can muster in this state. Lips dry and bloodied and tongue so desiccant that it can barely speak out against the painful friction of its restraints. "You lock me up, carry me for three day, deprive me of food and water, strap me down and drug me, and then chain me inside a room. Yet," it coughs, energy almost completely depleted from its small rant. "you expect me to give you answers to questions that I can't even focus on."

December rocks back in his seat, eyeing the thing up and down before he faces the one way window to his left, gesturing with a small nod before a noise can be heard from the other side. There's the shuffle of feet and a slightly different commotion audible before a knock on the silver door is heard.

It's just a quiet sound, but the room is so silent even the footsteps of a bug could be heard as those of a giant's.

The knock arrives once more with a frantic air, December rising from his seat with a hint of caution as he halts at the interior of the door, typing in a short code and waiting for it to slide open.

There's a whoosh, a crank, a pull, and a flash, a dark-haired being zooming past him with a small plate. It makes its way to the table just as the doors close in front of a stunned December, his head spinning from the speed in which the actions have just unfolded before him.

December winces a bit before he turns his head over his shoulder, his dark haired cousin sat in his chair at the table while the creature before him sways again. Head falling into the table with a sickening clash as its shoulders rapidly shake from tremors.

Instinctively, December places his finger to the nape of his neck, attempting to already massage away the headache he knows will be coming in mere minutes once he makes his way to the table, faces Ryder's wrath, and deals with a disobedient creature all at once.

As he takes his time getting back he nearly freezes as two and two connect in his brain, his feet picking up the pace as he flies towards Ryder and his dark hair. His dark, visible, hair.

Ryder's body is void of any protective suit, just his dark grey and red shirt and his black jeans. His body slumping over the table mirroring the creature ahead of him as December flies their way in a panic. December's suit is suffocating as he rips it off and breathes the fresh air of the interrogation room, haphazardly shoving his mask onto Ryder in a full on frenzy.

There's no telling what poison Subject A1 could secrete, or what toxic fumes had seeped out of its vomit and now contaminated the air they breathe. For Ryder to just waltz in without a suit was more than just childish foolishness, it was a death wish for not just himself but December too, and the flint in his eyes tells him that he knew so.

"The air isn't even toxic you don't need this shiz." Ryder coughs out, handing the mess of material back to his cousin as December takes his seat beside him, passing the tray of nuts and seeds towards their highly unlikeable guest.

With a sigh of defeat, December leaves his suit off, watching in slight awe as the creature takes a walnut, placing the food between his thumb and index finger before giving a slight snap. The nut twisting before completely splitting in two and revealing the edibles within. He does this a few more times until the color returns to his cheeks, just the sound of snapping and chewing occupying the room as the two cousins stare in awe at their guest.

December scribbles down the nuts and seeds it eats onto his clipboard, taking note of the peanuts it avoids along with a few other small nuts that December can't recognize. "Do you only eat nuts?" He asks, cautiously glancing down at his clipboard as a knot fills inside his stomach. The lack of progress within the last hour completely disheartening and nearly unacceptable.

"Nuts, berries, herbs, honey, pollen, occasionally fish." The creature comments, eyeing Ryder from the side of its eyes as it continues with its nut cracking and complete avoidance of December's gaze.

"And what are you exactly? We need it for our records."

Here the creature pauses, pupils dilating slightly before shrinking to their normal size, still watching Ryder struggling with his single walnut while going through a good three more. All the while still dodging the question that December asks two more times, impatiently tapping on his clipboard as he awaits cooperation.

Time drags on without an answer, the creature smiling slightly to itself at the thought of winning. The childish idea of freedom glistening in its eyes, mocking December and everything he has worked so hard for, everything they have built from the ground up while the world around them perished.

All of it just being mocked by some little weakling that they had no problem just snatching from the woods. December's skin boils, the room becoming a good ten degrees warmer as his face flushes a violent red.

He lashes out without thinking, without knowing, his arm flying out to the creature ahead of him until something foreign halts him.

Slowly, a pain makes its way to his outstretched arm, pinpricks beginning in his fingertips before deep, throbbing, pains inch down his fingers. Wrapping around each joint before they converge at the center of his hand, a fire burning within him so bright that he calls out.

He yanks the outstretched hand away from the creature with a quickness that snaps his bones. A loud crack echoing throughout the room as all eyes land on him, cradling his injured limb to his chest and eyeing the creature ahead with a newfound hatred he didn't know he had.

Still seething from the interaction he presses his trembling hand closer to him. A slight pain still surging through him as he stands from the table, watching the little monster smile over at Ryder.

A pure, genuine smile as it takes his hands in its own, the chains only a slight barrier as it places a walnut on the heel of Ryder's palm. Motioning how to place the knuckles of the opposite hand against the hardened shell and push, the nut completely cracking in around three tries.

The monster just smiles even wider as Ryder's expression shifts to match, the boy's eyes lighting up as he attempts the feat again, the nut coming undone in only two tries.

"It's how we teach the children." The monster whispers, placing yet another nut into Ryder's palm. "We make a tea with the shells and dandelions, it's a little bitter but nothing honey can't salvage."

December stays standing out of malice as the two continue their small conversation. A heat wave washing through him at the thought of Ryder just prancing into a closed interrogation room and somehow getting more answers in fifteen minutes then he had gotten in nearly an hour and a half of constant questioning.

Maybe it's just because the drugs are wearing off... he excuses, rubbing his hand again, the slight use of magic an obvious enough reason to believe the blockers are wearing off. Yet a small voice in the back of his mind warns him that it isn't so.

That there's a connection there, the two at the table silently laughing to themselves with each nut that cracks open in their worn palms, the food not even being eaten at this point, just sat away to the side as they try for another.

Sinking fit after sinking fit hits December, the sensation crashing onto his body like weathered waves. Each splash wearing away at his pride, at his soul as if it were nothing more than sandy beach rocks.

Ryder isn't scared, he walked into a potentially deadly situation with no protection, sat down in front of a potentially killer beast and merely decided to eat with it, to laugh and hold a conversation as if it didn't just attack his cousin's hand.

Still December can't make out the sickening feeling in his lower stomach as he mulls it over, watches the two smiling, a true, earnest, eye glistening smile. Ryder just has a connection with beasts that December never will. He'll always have to resort to violence, to the Stick, to possible torture to get the answers that he needs while Ryder can just, well he can just do this.

December can't take it anymore. He grabs Ryder by the forearm, dragging the boy up to his feet and walking towards the door with him arm in arm. The boy looks back at the creature at the table almost longingly before turning back to face his cousin, brow cocking the slightest.

He doesn't wait for Ryder to ask any questions, merely stopping them in their tracks and facing back to address the creature itself. "Subject A1, you'll be taken back to a room that we have had set up for you. Food will be brought to you and another round of blockers administered. You'll be in your room until morning so I suggest getting a good night's sleep and not worrying yourself too much."

He shoots Ryder a look, pulling the boy to the door with him as he starts to protest, kicking lightly at the flooring to slow their deadly pace.

"That's it? You're just locking him in his room until you can drill him with questions again?" Ryder grunts, struggling to escape from December's grip as he pushes him through the door and back out into the corridors.

December calmly folds his suit, placing it in the arms of a guard before motioning for Abrahm to join the two boy's descent. "Not quite, Ryder." He answers offhandedly, discussing something with the curly haired boy and handing him the scribbled over clipboard. Abrahm takes the notes and quietly disappears down another corridor, once again leaving the boys together in silence before the door behind them can be heard. An army of guards no doubt escorting Subject A1 to his room.

"Then what is it?" Ryder asks, concern flooding his features. "What exactly are you planning to do?"

"We let him rest for the night. Then we prep for surgery."