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Who: Mosley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
complices), England (unionjackoff) and some surprise guests.
When: OOC: 1/6, IC: 5/3 at 10 PM
Where: The research tower, where nothing ever bad happens ever.
What: England's been hired by CERES as a Test Subject. They've finally come to collect.
Rating/Warning: Heavy gore and death. This log is the product of player and mod contact. Please feel free to contact the mods at any time if you would like to interact with the NPCs. We're always open!
[ At night, the research tower is a beaming beacon of light in the middle of a rather dark district. The surrounding buildings power down and with the medical facility and the police department being just a bit too far away, it leaves the tower as one of the only open buildings during the evening within a wide span of city blocks. To some, this is a reassuring sight. To others, it is not.
As scheduled with England, Mosley will be one of the lone figures in the lobby of the research tower this evening with most of the staff having gone home hours before. Instead of standing and waiting by the elevators as is typical of him, he is sitting on top of the reception desk, legs crossed and swinging underneath him as he waits. The only sound in the lobby is the slight buzzing of the lights overhead and the steady thump of his feet hitting the back of the desk. He seems to be busy with his CereVice.
The other figure in that lobby tonight is a reception-bot, sitting behind Mosley at the desk and staring straight at the door. Once in a while, it glances towards Mosley but otherwise keeps staring at the door. They both seem to be waiting for something. ]
complices), England (unionjackoff) and some surprise guests.When: OOC: 1/6, IC: 5/3 at 10 PM
Where: The research tower, where nothing ever bad happens ever.
What: England's been hired by CERES as a Test Subject. They've finally come to collect.
Rating/Warning: Heavy gore and death. This log is the product of player and mod contact. Please feel free to contact the mods at any time if you would like to interact with the NPCs. We're always open!
[ At night, the research tower is a beaming beacon of light in the middle of a rather dark district. The surrounding buildings power down and with the medical facility and the police department being just a bit too far away, it leaves the tower as one of the only open buildings during the evening within a wide span of city blocks. To some, this is a reassuring sight. To others, it is not.
As scheduled with England, Mosley will be one of the lone figures in the lobby of the research tower this evening with most of the staff having gone home hours before. Instead of standing and waiting by the elevators as is typical of him, he is sitting on top of the reception desk, legs crossed and swinging underneath him as he waits. The only sound in the lobby is the slight buzzing of the lights overhead and the steady thump of his feet hitting the back of the desk. He seems to be busy with his CereVice.
The other figure in that lobby tonight is a reception-bot, sitting behind Mosley at the desk and staring straight at the door. Once in a while, it glances towards Mosley but otherwise keeps staring at the door. They both seem to be waiting for something. ]
no subject
They've all had their own proclivities but I'm personally not biased either way. When you're in a situation like ours, you take what you can get!
[ There's definitely a condescending snort from the Bridge after that. ]
no subject
his gaze then falls on to the Bridge at her snort. he doesn't know what to say to her, but she seems displeased with all of this. should he apologize? no, that would be stupid. so he just stays quiet, tries to think of another topic when the sounds get to be too much] ...How often does this happen? [did he ask that already? he doesn't remember]
no subject
When necessary. Sometimes, it happens a lot. Sometimes, once in a while.
[ He pauses, glancing back to the Bridge. ]
Sometimes, not at all.
[ She doesn't seem happy with that answer. ]
no subject
Only when it's needed. It's up to the gods, I'd imagine. [he's running out of questions now, at least questions that he thinks Mosley will answer. now he's just wondering when he will die, and what will happen afterwards] ...Will you need me again?
no subject
Exactly. We are bound to their idiotic and mercurial ways, Mr. England. All of us.
[ That is a good question though and Mosley gives a shake of his head in reply. ]
While we could use you, we won't. There's only about... one good shot of juice we can take from you per file. If your file were to be corrupted, sent back to your home and then return again as a fresh blank slate, yes. Otherwise, you will only be used once.
[ He considers something them, thoughtful. ]
Of course, there are always other activities in Cerealia that can be assisted by someone as willing as you. Let me know if you're ever interested and I will once again find you more paying work.
[ Now Mosley seems to be staring down at England's chest, arms crossed as he considers what to do next. The Bridge just scoffs in the background and hisses broken thing at him as an insult. He just frowns in reply. ]
no subject
and now Mosley seems to be waiting for something? why is he just standing there? the words the Bridge say don't go unnoticed either.
he had another question! but he can't recall what it was. damn this fogginess]