Stepping in, his hidden eyes perused the space in it's entirety. For a moment ignoring the man in favor of the facts laid out before him... Yet, no matter where he looked, his gaze always returned to the wall. That wall upon which the mappings of his own body were foretold. It scared him, yet beckoned him closer. Flesh and metal made one in that display. Was that how he looked inside? Wires for veins and circuitry for brains? Instinctively, one hand crept up to feel the rubber covered back of his head, feeling the outlines of a square of metal... It was an awkwardly long spell, before his regained his senses, hands dropping back into his cloaks, head forcibly turning away to stare at the medical professional.<i>"Your talent, preceeds you." </i>He forced out, voice dry as ever, never a good sociolite.<br/><br/>Slowly walking about the room, he drove himself to stand as far from that wall as he could. Staring instead at the papers before him on the desk, or what papers were elft on it... "What, have you learned?" He asked, sounding mildly bored, though the truth was far from it. This man was the key to understanding WHAT he was, what he could and could not do... And from the what, he could find out the How, and from there, the two most important WHOs... Who he himself was, and who did this to him... Discovering the where was not needed, but would make nice icing on teh cake.<br/><br/>The way the masked, cloaked man moved about the room, it was ghost like, never making a sound, never disrupting anything as he went. Even the papers he touched, or lifted, were returned in such a fashion as to hide he had been there... Each movement measured, calculated as if through a computer. Always just enough effort to get it done, yet never exerting more then was absolutely needed. The Wires in his body most likely. He was a moving, breathing sign of proof, of what the papers told. The practice needed to become that stealthy would have taken a lifetime to master, the reports of his aim in the canyon attesting to a second person's lifelong experience... Were his memories the price paid, for such superiority?<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>