- * "Electrifying" * -

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The scientist paused within the melancholy background of his kitchen, scraping the back of his nape a series of times with his grueling chipped and lengthy nails. The yellow chunks of keratin eventually jolted back, leaving his now reddened neck out of a mild irritation that was being emitted from his incessant scratching. They slunk back in place under the brittle circular arm of his coffee cup. Casually he sipped from the mutilated rim of the porcelain teacup, an aging marking faded upon its ancient sides. The scientist swished the lukewarm liquid in which came out around his predator-like teeth. The liquid was distasteful, bitter and a dark form of 'coffee'. Anything to keep his energy up, no matter how grotesque it was upon his tongue. His tastebuds had become accustomed to such punishment, and at this point in his life, Junkenstein had no further knowledge of something different from what he had. Junkenstein's nose had become blind to the scent of the rotting rat corpses that littered his lab, or the ripe smell of the piling dishes with unknown substance caked on. So what was this to him? Junkenstein's metallic synthetic hand snapped upwards, mechanical joints reeling inwards with a painful creak of the gears. Slowly the makeshift 'appendage' curled around his graying tufts of calcium white hair, groping at the cotton smooth tufts as he mindlessly worked out a tangled knot that laced with cobwebs and other debris. Dandruff had taken its toll on his flake ridden scalp region. Casually his lanky figure lurched out of the kitchen, gripping the cup within the pale calloused pads of his fingertips.
The rarely seen Dr. Junkenstein was an oddity, scarcely seen out in the nearby civilization of Adlersbrunn. The scientist was mainly named as an outcast by the Lord of the castle in general, so it was no surprise that it had to be this way. At least in Junkenstein's eyes. A brilliant genius couldn't be seen amongst the ones with no future. The ones who would never hope to make an impact. Junkenstein would show them how their outbursts against him would pay direly, but not at this exact moment in time. Junkenstein had to push forth his best appearance after all. The people of the town had to respect him as a ruler! A title he so desperately wanted. A title he deserved. However, he was oblivious in general of how far he was from such a heightened political job. After all, his hygiene as of now was horrendous, and he knew nothing different. Imagine, him on a stage while flies circled around his head like vultures a dead carcass. Circles ringed his eyes, practically hollowing them out enough to see where his flesh met his skull. The scientist had ivory-hued hair that grew in intensity with each centimeter of a strand, silver was present as the stalky mess met with his head. The 'doctor''s hair had been through the test of time entirely, he himself couldn't number how many times daily he incidentally lit it on fire. No wonder aspects of it were thinning out with gradual age. Hell, even the withering and faded color was alarmingly unnatural. All the stress he had underwent had made his hair get to such a degree at the simple age of 25. Horrifying for some, but a status symbol for him. Junkenstein had become numb to the fact of his sanitization being across the line of socially unacceptable, for there was not a soul in his solitude to keep him in check. The lanky male made his way down the depressing halls, admiring the way that mysterious and unknown darkened stains flecked the many surfaces. Then the male turned abruptly, gazing at one of the statues that hovered over him, signifying the staircase. The statue was placed upon an ugly slab of hovering marble, decay having distorted the statue's original shaping. Originally, the statue was meant to be a gargoyle, said to have been placed there to keep away nasty spirits. The gargoyle now, however, was a horrendous excuse of its kind, put in a polite context. The horned impish creature had been worn down by the moistness of the labyrinth of mazed corridors. Water had caused the cracks in the arched ceilings to give way slightly, and the statue seemingly was the one constantly tormented by the effects.

"Pity." Jamison spat, teeth revealing themselves to the open world in a split second before sliding back inwards. It was as though he were a viper about to strike with its fangs. Junkenstein's jaw reeled back inwards at last before he gazed spitefully into the glossy stone eyes of the creature. Thoughts swirled around his head. Imagine if something as ridiculous as that existed long ago. How much it would have been ridiculed by those in its presence. Its prey would probably cackle instead of shivering wildly in fear. Suddenly, Junkenstein reared upwards like an agitated spider finding a plausible threat to its intricately spun web. Eyebrow twitching with disdain and a plausible manic sense of rage, Jamison flicked his teacup upwards with an unneeded sense of force, ravishing it into the statue's oral region, as though daring it furiously to react. He needed a reply, anything - Then, with an upwards gesture he lifted his mechanical hand from the tunnel of false anatomy. Junkenstein's worn and sandpaper cracked lips contorted as he released a rueful chuckle, as though a whisper of despair was enough to make a change in this cruel and brutal world.