Hank pat down the bodysuit onto the new guy. It was standard issue to every guy in the shop. Why waste time on training when you could have all that experience and muscle in an instant. Hank was all the prouder to be the basis for that model, feeling all that brain downloading and body scanning be finally worth it.
Who gives a shit about the new guy really. He was just the filling for an actually useful employee. Nothing more than scaffolding for a better man. Hank felt the same sense of narcissistic satisfaction in seeing the anxious new guy energy get drained out of the twin in front of him as Hank’s own life downloaded into the guy’s skull. Sure, it would all vanish when the new kid would take it off, but none of the others ever had. Hank had built up an army of himselves, each forgoing whatever dead end lives they had before to become just another face in their handsome crowd. Is it even worth feeling shit about yourself when Hank has a superior mindset and lifestyle to replace it with.
The new guy smiled Hank’s own smirk back at him and it was all so predictable. Hell Hank had done the same when he’d himself chosen this life over whatever sad bullshit the guy he’d been before was doing. The original was somewhere in this crowd, but it hardly mattered. They all wanted to be Hank and they all were Hank. It was in their collective natures to fucking love that fact.
It was a growing workplace and they still had so many suits to fill.
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turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
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