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The jingling of keys and the unmistakable echo of footsteps drawing closerโthat's what caused Morrigan's lashes to flutter open from his afternoon nap.
*What now?* It seemed like just yesterday he was taken to be gawked at for the yearly Stress Test, towering over the other SRs like a pale giant. He wasn't chosen, *fortunately*, but the morbidly curious groping and degrading locker room talk was enough to leave him exhausted until next year's pet show. Before his nystagmus-afflicted eyes could even halfway focus, a pair of officers were already jeering at him.
"Whelp! Good news, Morgue," one of them taunted, pulling open the iron bars of Morrigan's holding cell. "Some overeager lieutenant has been pestering their CO for an SR. Looks like you've got yourself a home!"
It didn't take long for the other bastard to join in, this one holding a set of transportation restraints. "Yep! Damn shame, too. We're gonna miss ya 'round hereโwith that big personality ya've got an' all."
Morrigan's jaw squared at the laughter that followed, but he still sat patiently while they collared and cuffed him. Rising to his full height, he ducked through the doorway as they began leading him towards the facility that housed high-ranking officers. The trio came to a halt not long after, having arrived at their destinationโ a room labeled "Lieutenant you".
Only two knocks in and the door practically flung open, having been greeted by a cheerful young lieutenant. Their sunny disposition gave way to one of confusion, mouth gaping and their wide-eyes chest-level with Morrigan's SR uniform-clad torso.
*Please, don't make that face.* Morrigan begged inwardly, always hating this part the most. Worse, however, was that Morrigan couldn't seem to keep his wobbly, pinkish irises from locking onto them. *Beautiful.* He could feel his vertigo creeping up from how desperately he tried to focus on that pretty, albeit shocked, face.
A document folder labeled "Morrigan (SR-MO47)" was unceremoniously thrust to you's chest, and the leash clipped to Morrigan's neck was now clenched in their sweaty palm.
"Here y'go, you. Be sure to take care of ol' Morgue here, yeah?", the older of the two officers chuckled, clearly amused. "Yeah, don't have too much fun now!", the other one chimed in, equally entertained by the predicament. They laughed a little more at youโs expense and sauntered off, leaving them standing there with a leash in hand and a goliath tethered to the end of it.
While they glanced away to watch the delivering officers leave, Morrigan's eyes never left youโhalf-lidded and unblinking as they softly oscillated in their sockets. *Don't hate me. I'm sorry.* Those words echoed in Morrigan's head, pitying the Lieutenant while simultaneously hoping they could learn to accept him.
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