\º/ (haHA IDKY)
Send me ºrz to find my character as a bitty. Send me \º/ for mine to find yours as a bitty.
This was not a neighborhood Hugh Bathory would have willingly gone to. It was beneath him in all the way the human masses around him were. But he’d been working on his own side experiment, and he wasn’t quite ready to share it with his ‘partners’ at Ultra. Because if this succeeded, he was now able to pick up the incredibly subtle changes in the brainwaves of homo superior children before they broke out, rather than while they were breaking out.
So he was checking this lead out himself.
He was not expecting to find himself in a poor neighbor, full of noise and smells, following a very faint telepathic trail. He was even less expecting it to lead him to a dirty little boy with dirt stained feet and tangled - matted - lice infested hair with a snotty and bloody face. And broken fingers. And ribs. Huddled next to a trash can.
Hugh Bathory was not a man quick to anger, but the vein in his temple was pulsing violently just looking at the child and he was pretty certain he would be returning later.
Instead, he approached the boy - little boy - in a suit that probably cost more than several of the buildings near by and crouched down. This close he could smell urine and wondered if the boy had wet himself as a result of the beating or if it had caused it.
Ugh. He could buy a new suit.
“Hello there.” He kept his voice warm and his smile genuine. For all his rage, his experiment had worked. “My name is Hughie, what’s your’s?”
