WEEK 1

[bathymetric]

Well, you've now met the brains of the operation, as well as the shockingly nice-looking young lady in charge of day-to-day business. Now all that's left is to get used to your accommodations - there's 24 other people in similar shoes to yours to meet in this building, you know! And who knows how much longer you might have them...

The daily routine in the facility quickly becomes obvious - the only way to tell time moment to moment is to check the strange device The Professor gave you, but at the same time every day the lights in and out of the facility go up, and at the same time every night they go down. Otherwise, it's almost maddening sometimes, how little happens in here. At least you have a few rooms with enough to hopefully keep you occupied. Who knows what secrets they might hold? And there's always that vending machine, if you can find something that fits in the coin slot...





MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
FRIDAY | SATURDAY

[ ooc: Welcome to Peace Week! Enjoy it while it lasts. Remember, office hours for The Professor's Assistant are over here if you're interested, while regains can be deposited over here! ]

Comments

Investi...gation...?

[bolderfell]

[Surely surprising no one, Therion keeps to himself as much as he can. He orders his lunch when fewer people are in the dining area and usually takes it to his room to eat. Whenever he does venture outside, he quickly occupies himself in solitary investigations--mostly of mundane modernities. Why. The hell. Did people invent chairs that spin?

Anyway.

Today, though, he spends more time out than in. He makes an early morning visit to the laundry room, though it quickly becomes clear he's not there to wash anything. He's still wearing the clothes he woke up in, the travel-worn cloak and scarf. He hasn't worn anything else. Still, here he is, rooting through the soap and supplies for something.

Later in the morning, he finds himself investigating the vending machine room. The machine at first merits no more than an uncertain glance. When it does nothing, Therion turns from it to examine one of the walls--the western wall, specifically. He spends a goodly amount of time running his fingers over it, knocking on different areas to see if the sound changes, and scrutinizing the joins to the other walls and floor.

Once he finally finishes with that, it's the machine's turn. For a while, he stares it down. Then, he tries tapping his key card to the bill slot, and when that proves fruitless, he tries inserting it. No dice. He fingers the coin slot before giving up on that and dropping to the ground.

This flap thing, that's interesting. He pushes it open a couple times, then sticks first one hand in, then the other, feeling around inside. It's not comfortable, and eventually he pulls back to shake his arms out. Or he tries, anyway. His left hand comes back out just fine. Something on his right wrist--well.

It gets stuck.

Therion clunks it against the opening a couple times, turning his arm at different angles, then swears under his breath. Once again, short-sightedness proves his downfall.

It's much, much later before the embarrassment fades enough to face the world, and even then, Therion radiates a powerful No-I-Do-Not-Want-To-Talk-Go-Away-Nothing-To-See-Here aura. He stalks straight to the library, where eventually the task of going through the titles on the shelf bleeds some of his tension away.

He selects a couple volumes on crime, naturally, but it seems he's not done as he wanders the shelves, looking for another subject entirely.]

vending machine

[onefuture]

[Lif's honestly not even sure what to make of the vending machine room when he stepped inside prior, but today he figures that he'll at least give it a once over and see if there's anything of...interest in there...

...

Oh Therion, what the heck did you do. Lif is just going to take a walk over to Therion, hand deep in the machine, and he looks honestly incredulous.]

What on earth are you doing?

[Like, bruh, this has bad idea written all over it and--wait. Wait, is he stuck in there...]

[bolderfell]

...Nothing.

[He says, shifting his butt onto the floor so he can plant both feet against the machine and push, obviously trying (and failing) to get his hand out.]

[onefuture]

[Nothing his bony blue ass. Lif's just going to be talking a walk right over to access the situation at hand (hah) and...wow, you sure got your hand stuck in that machine. That's...honestly impressive.]

How did you get your hand stuck up in there? [Like. What the fuck, do the machines just eat hands now? ...No, that's illogical--] Do you need help?

[...He's not sure exactly how caught Therion's hand is at the moment, but like, he's trying to think of a plan of attack here.]

[bolderfell]

What I need--is a file--or a really sharp axe.

[He is dying and embarrassed. He stops for the moment, resting his face on the back of his other, less-stuck hand so that he doesn't have to look at Lif, and then twists around onto his back in hopes of getting a better angle of sight.]

If you really want to make yourself useful, though, would you mind holding that... flap thing all the way open for me? Be easier if I could see.

Investi...gation...?!

[bathymetric]

[ well before the poor boy gets trapped, which will not reveal anything other than a grim reflection of his own hubris-

the western wall, huh? Well, it's not exactly obvious, but if he moves his hands everywhere there's two hairline gaps in the middle of the wall, about three feet apart from one another! ]

[bolderfell]

[Oho. Three feet apart vertically or horizontally? That is, is he looking at a tall but narrow space between these lines, or a long but squat one? HOT DOG OR HAMBURGER?

I mean what I'm really asking is, does this look like possibly a door for peoples.]

[bathymetric]

[ it does in fact possibly look like a door for peoples ]

[bolderfell]

[With no hinges visible on this side, if it opens, it probably opens towards him. Still, Therion tries to push it inward, first on one side, then the other. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.]

Laundry

[ladygeryon]

[Huh. Nira remembers that he didn't know about how the tablets worked...she sets her own small pile of clothing down and glances over.]

What're you looking for?

[bolderfell]

Starch.

[Seems that, for once, he doesn't mind answering.]

[ladygeryon]

Huh. If you can't find any here, I think you might be able to ask the kitchen for cornstarch. I'm pretty sure they work almost the same.

[bolderfell]

[He pauses to look at her.]

Really? That's what that woman said she needed specifically...

vending machine

[shieldsister]

[Aela's simply walking by, but seeing Therion poking around the machine is interesting, so she heads on into the room and—]

Did you manage to get your hand stuck in there?

[ah, she's just gonna come right out and say it........]

[bolderfell]

[Noooo, why's it gotta be Aela? Therion grunts and redoubles his efforts to wriggle free.]

No.

[If only his "employers" could see him now...]

[shieldsister]

[In a complete deadpan:] Of course. My mistake.

[Okay, she's kind of smirking now, though.]

Do you want my help or not?

[bolderfell]

That depends. Your help wouldn't break my arm, would it?

[Aela likes BATTLE and he is but a wee rogue.]

Library

[drladysounds]

You're a sight for my sore and pretty eyes.

[Well that is a way to greet him, but yeah. Hi Therion. What's this repelling aura you have, goodness gracious]

Got a moment?

[bolderfell]

[The look he levels her is frankly incredulous. Did she just...?

Just don't acknowledge it.]

...Will it matter if I say no?

[drladysounds]

Oh, it will. If you'd rather not I can leave. [Shelley looks upwards with feigned disinterest] But I thought an expert at thievery would be right what I need. Alas, will I have to leave this to an amateur?

[bolderfell]

[Woooowwwww. He pushes the book spine he was examining back into place.]

What do you want.

laundry

[hardnosed]

[ From her position in the doorframe: ]

What are you doing.

[ So, you know, it's Nira's comment, but shittier. ]

[bolderfell]

[Hope she's happy with a shittier answer.]

Skulking, probably.

[It's a good word. He doesn't mind stealing it from Anna.]

Is that a problem?

[hardnosed]

[ Joke's on him she's never happy!!! She rolls her shoulders, and somehow makes the gesture dismissive. ]

I don't care what you do. [ A beat. ] Someone else might.

[ Speaking of Anna... ]

[bolderfell]

Can't say I care what "someone else" does, either.

[He picks up a box of something to look at what's in it.]

Are you from a world with machines like these?