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"Well, I guess you're in luck. What I've got alludes ta what happened after he left England -- not necessarily all his notes, they're tha notes from his wife with some a' his notes written in-between. I'd say it was kinda romantic, if it didn't... well. Heeah, take a look." He scooped up one of the journals off the tabletop and flipped through a few pages. He turned the book open and held it out to Moreau to show a few graphic descriptions of a horse that was being flayed alive, vivisected, and other such things.

"I guess ya could say it's genius, just poorly-executed at that. I have an old publication that details why he left England, it's not tha most glorifying thing. Even though ethics were hawribly botched back then..." He set the journal down, leaving it open while fishing out a thin, ragged paperback pamphlet with "THE MOREAU HORRORS!" written on it in faded text. Offering it to Moreau, he said, "Heeah. Dunno if you've already seen this or not."

Anatoli's expression went grim when Moreau went on to talk about the brilliance of Nazi scientists. Did he not know the man was Jewish at all? He bit down his lip as his grip tightened on a book he held in his hands, clearly rather offended by what his cousin had said.

"Mind you, a lot of those 'tests' the Nazis did weren't even for tha betterment of society. Are ya sayin' Zyklon B and Auschwitz are shinin' examples of the greatest achievements in medical history? Dr. Mengele was no brilliant man, but a cruel and twisted mind," he spoke slowly and carefully, trying not to let his disgust show too much. "I don't consider finding tha best ways to exterminate an entire ethnic group to be very, ah, scientific."

"I am inclined ta disagree, sewing twins togetha an' tryin' ta change a kid's eye color are not very conducive for tha bettament of mankind," Anatoli said, frowning. "Freezin' people, injecting 'em with fatal diseases, stuff they could have just as easily used rats for! Those were human beings, and they didn't volunteer ta have all this pain inflicted onta 'em. I'm sure they didn't even know what tha hell was comin' their way the moment they stepped off tha train. That is an awfully callous thing ta say, about tha ends justifyin' tha means and people bein' treated like livestock or some kinda animal."

Anatoli doesn't know it, but he pretty much just damned himself with that last sentence.

"How kind a' ya," Anatoli said dryly, still a bit incensed at Moreau's discomforting remarks. "It'll be nice ta relax afta all a' this. I slept most tha entiah day so I'll prob'ly go for a walk around or somethin'."

As much as he didn't want to leave his precious journals behind, the man slowly got up and stretched his arms.

"Jungle flu. Lovely," Anatoli said, biting down on his lip. His green eyes wandered over to the rather unsettlingly large needle, the hairs on the back of his neck pricking up at the sight of it.

"Hey, listen -- does it have ta be a shot? You don't have no pills or nothin'? That needle looks... awfully big. I mean, I don't wanna get no jungle flu, but I don't like needles," the man whined.

And it's in gun form. That just makes it worse.

Anatoli let out another pathetic whimper, reluctantly rolling up his sleeve. He could feel himself getting lightheaded and the corners of his vision were blacking out from nervousness at the thought of the needle penetrating his skin. Squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head away, he held out his bare arm despite feelings of terror.