I haven't had the chance. After destroying the project, I've always found myself in another situation where someone has control over me, where I've had to survive.

This place is no exception.

[He pulls one of the flowers out of the vase just so he can hold it. How long has it been since he's just...stopped. To enjoy something vibrant and alive? Maybe it's just the drugs that are making him reflective like this?]

[Maybe it's that the last thing he came from was a vicious mission to win his freedom, and before that he'd been surrounded by metal walls.]

[He can smell it. Sometimes he forgets how nice that is, something you miss spending so much time hermetically sealed in power armor. He holds the azalea close enough to sniff it. It's sweet. Sweeter than he remembers roses smelling.]

[It reminds him of the honeysuckle bush down the lane growing up. It was on the edge of a neighbor's front yard and he and his sisters used to sneak up to it and steal flowers. Their neighbor had hated it so they'd had to avoid getting caught. Each of them taught the next youngest how to break off the bottom stem and pull through the stamen, drawing out a drop of nectar to place on their tongues.]

If I seem...driven. I'm just...trying to figure out the fastest way through it.

[Hence suggesting more training when he got here.]