WEEK 3

[bathymetric]

Well, the tail end of Week 2 could have gone better. That's the first thing to note.

The second thing is... hang on, should it be Week 3 yet? You've all gone to sleep (or... not, in the case of anyone who doesn't), but when you wake up (and you do all wake up), the calendar and clock on your device informs you that it's Sunday. In-character, all characters explicitly have absolutely no memory of Saturday.

Your sense of time isn't the only thing that's changed - a new branch of the facility has opened and become active overnight, giving you new resources and places to investigate, should you so choose. There's also a new channel on the television, though whether it's an improvement over the last one is questionable.

Otherwise, though, things have mostly settled into normalcy again, or at close to normal as you can find in this place. How long that peace will last, though... that's becoming increasingly uncertain, moving forward.



SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY

[ ooc: Welcome to Week 3! Turn in last week's AC over here, and regains remain over this way! And for the sake of consistency, Angel's office hours remain over yonder! ]

Comments

[bolderfell]

[Immediately, Therion pulls his own device out to see what it says. TBH, he kind of forgot he put it in his... wherever he stores things under that cloak.]

...Mine says Sunday, too. They wouldn't both be wrong at once, would they?

[fivestagegod]

Not unless something's off with the whole system, which... I want to believe they're a little more on top of things than that.

[I mean, the Professor is a hot mess but he seems to be a little more on top of his shit technologically, at least.]

...I had something to ask you about, actually, while you're here. I got something out of the machine, I want to see what you make of it.

[Come here, Therion.]

[bolderfell]

Huh? Me?

[???

Sure, he'll give this mystery thing a looksee.]

[fivestagegod]

[He'll pick up that battered journal next to him; he will thankfully bypass the first several pages, which are covered in a childish scrawl that's hard to read and obviously not his, in favor of a page a little ways in with his own writing on it. Still a mess, and hopefully small enough that it'll give the cameras difficulty picking it up, if there are any in the walls.

Angel doesn't know who the subjects in the memo I found are.
Memo was definitely from the doctor who made the Professor's machines.
Apparently the doctor in question is a woman.
Professor does not know who did the writing under the tiles. Neither does Angel.

He'll just keep talking while that's being looked over.]

I don't even know who this belongs to, but it's pretty messed up, right?

[bolderfell]

[Oh snap. It takes Therion a second, but only that. His eyes snap back up to Birkin, then down at the writing again. He shifts, as if uncomfortable, and tugs at his scarf.]

Yeah. Maybe there's some hidden meaning. Or maybe... some invisible inks show up when wet.

[He looks up again.]

We could bring it to the bathroom. Try it there.

[fivestagegod]

You think so? I mean, it's better that than assuming I got some messed up thing that makes next to no damn sense, I guess. Shall we?

[Give him a moment to get his shit in order, let's go.]

[bolderfell]

[To the men's room! Since people seem to have a problem with him going in the ladies' room. Before he even starts to talk, he walks over to the loose tile he found and shows Birkin the message on it.]

What do you think?

[fivestagegod]

[Oh, excellent.]

...I think that's extremely good to know, for one thing. Does anyone know if the others are the same way? I don't see why they wouldn't be, if we assume that they're granting this as privacy measures, but this seems like a bad thing to make assumptions about.

[bolderfell]

I checked the other big ones--the one next door and the ones by the workshop. The women's room has the same note, but I didn't find anything in the other two.

[...]

So you believe it? This message.

[fivestagegod]

Well, I'm assuming you do, seeing as we're doing this at all.

[Just saying.]

The one in the laundry room was legitimate, though. It does make me wonder who left them and why.

[bolderfell]

...I just know everywhere else is being watched. If we have to talk somewhere, at least there's a chance here we won't be heard.

[It'd be stupider to NOT talk. Probably.]

You're sure it wasn't Angel? I thought all along it was her...

[fivestagegod]

She told me she doesn't know. She gave me a note and made sure the Professor couldn't see it, so she had no reason to lie to me in it, either.

[bolderfell]

Huh. Then either it's someone else on "staff," someone hidden somewhere we haven't been able to get to yet, or... someone who isn't here. Not anymore.

[fivestagegod]

Yeah...

[Mm.]

There's the possibility that we aren't the first set to come here. Angel not knowing who the people referenced in that note are might indicate that, but that doesn't strongly indicate one way or the other. It just means that she doesn't know.

[bolderfell]

Yeah. ...You said she gave you a note? Her handwriting doesn't match what's on the tiles?

[Just because they can't imagine a reason for her to lie, she still could've.]

[fivestagegod]

It doesn't, no. She didn't do any of the weird capitalization stuff, either.

[bolderfell]

[He makes a disgruntled noise.]

She told me that before this, she'd been living in different facilities around him. Less intense ones, whatever that means. Thought it meant maybe she'd gone through something like this, was trying to help us on the sly... Honestly, I thought she was one of the people in that--what'd you call it. The memo. One of the subjects.

[fivestagegod]

Apparently we were in a different facility before this, they couldn't bring us straight here. I'm guessing that for at least some of us that's where they did the whole...power-blocking thing they've apparently got going on. Some of the rest of us needed to be fixed up, so it would follow that that's where that was done, too.

[bolderfell]

Fixed up?

[fivestagegod]

...Yeah.

[...]

I was kind of not in the greatest condition back home, let's put it that way. It's not something I broadcast because I don't want people looking at me weird or trying to give me sympathy or any of that crap.

[bolderfell]

Oh, they healed you. All right.

[Therion can respect wanting to just move on like grievous injury didn't happen.]

So we were somewhere else before this. Makes sense that someone else could've been here before us. Wasn't there something in your note about one of those subjects destroying part of a laboratory? What if we were somewhere like that.

[fivestagegod]

It wouldn't surprise me. I also kind of wondered if the part of the practice that she wanted him to knock off was bringing people in injured so they stop having to waste resources on them.

[Kind of a dickish request, but an understandable one, he supposes.]

...Honestly, though, even if Angel isn't sure who either of those subjects in the notes are, I'm really not surprised that someone completely wrecked a lab. Jasper seems like she could completely wreck a lab.

[bolderfell]

Sort of surprising she hasn't yet.

[He rubs his chin, thinking about something else.]

If the memo was here before we were--no, even before Angel was. The memo had to have been written a while ago. Wouldn't the order about not bringing subjects in injured or whatever have applied to us?

[fivestagegod]

True, I'd imagine so. Though that also does make me wonder why it's here at all - someone had to have deliberately put it there, and I'm not entirely certain why they would have. I'd guess there's something we're supposed to piece it together with that will make it relevant later, but...

[...This is so pointlessly convoluted. Just like home, really.]

[bolderfell]

Someone...

[After a while, he sighs and shakes his head.]

Only guess I've got is it's someone who was here before the Professor and Angel set up. And it wouldn't be the woman doctor who made his machines, if she thinks whatever he's doing is so important. There's too much I don't understand about this.