Atra Bilis

[Punslinger]

Shin stepped through the heavy wooden door, taking his seat on the stone bench along the wall worn smooth by a thousand asses over a hundred years while trying not to imagine the volume of fluids that had likely been exuded on it and expunged from it. Physical exam centers were usually in the proper hospitals, even the smaller ones like this. To the teen's mind they lacked the honest and calming nature of the training ground clinics he was more used to. This is where they brought the dead and dying, not healthy people. That alone was enough to make his brow furrow behind his tinted glasses. Sure, he had to do this sort of thing on a semi-regular basis, but he didn't have to like it.

These places always smelled like limestone water and the undefinable properties of human detritus, this one especially. It wouldn't be surprising at all to find out it also housed a mortuary.

Shaking clear of such thoughts, the genin peered out the plate glass window, gauging the angle of the sun as it slid past its zenith. An hour past noon. He may not have felt like attending, but he couldn't be faulted on punctuality. The sooner it was over the sooner his could get to his afternoon workout and a late lunch.