Soulriders 5.0: Legend of the Unending Games

When you come to your senses, you're lying on a bed in a brightly lit room.  It's empty at the moment, and your bed appears to be the standard frame-and-mattress variety, and you've been dressed in a white jumpsuit.

There are no windows, but there is a door to a hallway, and you can hear people chattering outside.  A chart of the wall shows a picture of a kitten hanging onto a tree branch, but there are no clocks or calendars.  There's only one bed in the room, and its otherwise empty.  You are not bound, and while your body responds sluggishly at first, you don't feel any pain or lingering effects from the tazer.

Shaking his head groggily, Bjorn struggles to his feet.  After doing a few stretches to loosen his body up, he scans the room to make sure there's nothing else (clothing, etc.) that he might have missed, and then goes over to test the doorknob.

The door isn't even latched.  None of your personal belongings are in view, and you can see what looks like sunlight outside through the crack in the doorway.  You can distantly hear the murmur of wind through tree-branches, and the sound of running water.  You can also see a small doorway that leads to a bathroom, previously hidden behind a curtain.

Bjorn pauses, and goes to use the littlest room first.  "Never turn down a chance to piss or sleep" is the current Motto of the Minute (TM).

Assuming there are no incredible surprises lurking in the washbasin, he then heads out the door to find what he can find.

There is, in fact, a minor surprise in the washroom.  Given the austere, almost 'hospital' ambiance, you didn't expect it to contain a shower, or real cloth towels.  But it has both.

After washing up, you open the door and head outside.  Your door opens onto a concrete walkway with an raised rain-guard covering it.  You think it's a raingaurd instead of for snow, because it's just not cold enough to cover snow here.  When your eyes adjust more fully to the brightness, you can see that your door is one of several in a concrete, bunker-like building.  However, from here you can look up, and see that there is no sky.  Instead, it's a lighting rig suspended from a concrete ceiling.  The sunlight is artificial (but reasonably convincing), and the walkway adds to the effect.  A soft breeze is blowing through, ruffling some hedges that line the corridor.

To your left, it goes about fifty meters and ten doors down before it terminates in a large security door with wire-mesh reinforced glass windows, and red tape outlining it.  There's no sign of anyone there, but there is a buletin in black and yellow on the door.  You can't make it out from here.

To your right, the corridor goes another thirty meters (and three doors down) before opening up into a more brightly lit area.  Most of the sound is coming from this direction, and you hear soft laughter, and indistinct murmured conversations.

Before heading over towards the conversation (since, one way or the other, this will probably entail a curtailment of liberties), Bjorn heads over to read the sign.

Looks a lot like what Jessica was describing... sure as hell hopes that means I got rescued.

The sign reads: "This door for Workshop staff only.  No guest entry permited."

"Well," Bjorn says out loud to no-one, "now I really hope I got rescued, because otherwise their welcome wagon needs an overhaul."

Snide witticism uttered and (as a result) a feeling of some situational control regained, Bjorn heads off to the voices -- if moving a bit slowly.

The corridor opens up into a wide area, probably the size of a football field.  There's a fountain in the center, and you can see a number of other corridors leading off in other directions.  Your (looking back) has the arch of a rainbow painted over the top.  The five others have flowers, a river, cavorting cartoon animals, balloons, and leafy green vines.

The ceiling of this room is about 50 meters up, and there's a lighting rig hanging from it providing a reasonable enough aproximating of sunlight to allow the hedges and two small trees to grow.  The fountain also has a stream running the length of the room into another pool, where it apparently drains away.  Wide cement bridges cross over it every few meters.

There's also scattered collections of tables across the room, with other people dressed similarly to you -- save most of the others are wearing nametags.  Looking up, you can see a walkway surrounding the interior of the room, about twenty meters up.  Guards in black S.W.A.T. gear patrol it -- it looks like there are four of them, right now.

The room is oblong, somewhat like an oval, with three coridors at either end.  In the center of the room, on either side, is a set of double-doors, one of which bears a familiar looking bulletin, and the other which is marked 'cafeteria' in bright, playful letters.  The murals around that door show smiling children and picnic baskets.

Most of the people you see on the cement floor with you are not at the tables, but wandering around and talking to eachother quietly, though the murmur of their discussion carries.

Nearest to you is a little girl, perhaps eight years old, sitting on the ground with her back to you, and playing with a small plastic bin full of glass shards.  An older woman, appearing in her early thirties sits on a cement bridge nearby, feet dangling in the river, and eyes you curiously.

Ignoring the child for the moment (since they make him uncomfortable, nasty little proto-humans, yes, they tookses it away from us!), Bjorn heads carefully over to the river and squats on his haunches by the base of the bridge, looking at the woman.  "Hi," he ventures.

She's got shoulder-length brown hair, and green eyes.  She's dressed in the same unflattering style of jumpsuit you are.  "Hello," she says quietly.  "You're new, aren't you?  My name is Megan."

Bjorn chews on his tongue thoughtfully.  "I'm Bjorn, and yeah, I'm new.  I think I already know the answer, but... could you tell me where we are?"

"This is the Workshop," she says with a shrug.  "How many years did you make it before they got you?"

Bjorn closes his eyes and exhales, long and silently.  "Thirty-one years," he says, with a hint of black humour.  "Though I'm not sure what they got me for... or rather, I know what they think they got me for, but I don't know that they're right, if that makes sense."

He blinks, and then focusses on the woman.  "What about yourself?" he asks, sympathetically.

She eyes you speculatively, then frowns.  "I was born in 1923," she says offhandedly.  "I never really thought much about it until it was the sixties, and I had realized that I didn't age as quickly as anyone else ... I suppose there was a reason I was orphaned.  I'd say I managed a good seventy five years before they took me down."  She smiles a little.  "Though, they didn't get me without a fight."

The little girl rises unsteadily, and trundles over, cupping something in her hands, and offering it to Megan.  "Oh?" Megan says, plucking a small glass figurine from the girl's hands.  She holds it up for a moment, then offers it to you, while the little girl hides behind Megan, and peeks at you over her shoulder.

It's incredibly detailed -- looks like a little model of you, in armor and carrying a razor-sharp sword, though the style is European, not samurai.

Cradling the figure in his hands, Bjorn examines it minutely, lost for words.  It's...  Looking up, he smiles, gently and sincerely, at the little girl.  "Thank you very much," he says gravely.  "It's wonderful.

Glancing briefly down at the treasure he holds in his hands, he continues, "In case you didn't hear, my name is Bjorn.  Pleased to meet you."

(Edit: stupid hidden closing tags.)

Megan glances upwards, and says in a quiet voice, "I get the idea that while she's close, she's not right on the mark...."  The munchkin smiles, and raises a finger to her lips before scuttling back to her pile of broken glass.  More loudly she says, "It's a pity she can't craft anything more intricate than balls or toy horses.  She could have real potential, if she could make useful things."

"Art is useful," Bjorn says firmly, but without further elaboration.  "And I've met people who've made it their life's work to produce anything even coming close to this piece.

Interesting as the relevance of art in modern life is... "So.  They have us.  And now...?"

"Depends," Megan says with a shrug.  "On what you do, really.  They'll just let you live here forever if you're like her."  She nods at the little girl, who is making a small wooden horse out of glass -- it seems to waver, almost like it's melting, but there's no glow, and no heat distortion.  It just ... melts in her hands and assumes a new shape.  "If you've got some useful ability, like Jonas...."  She turns to look at a man sitting at one of the nearby tables, smiling at a flower.

"He's a healer.  I don't know what they do to him, but they want to learn how to reproduce that ability.  To understand how it works.  And ... some of the things they do here would break certain rules regarding, oh, you know, human rights, if it were known, abilities aside."  She grimaces.  "What do you do, Bjorn?"

"I don't know."  Bjorn frowns at his hands, as he works a pressure point in his right palm (good for preventing colds, now a nervous habit).  "I was there when they captured a pyrokinetic.  Some of the fire hit me, but I didn't get burnt.  But... I don't know if that was me."

"Ashnod?  If it wasn't you, what was it?" she asks, frowning.  "You've got some defense, though it's softening."  After a pause, she adds, "Not that I was peeking into your mind, or anything, it's just that I noticed you've got some kind of barrier..." she raises a hand and taps the side of her head, "up here."


[Edit: Because closing your quotation marks is fun!]

"You're a telepath?" Bjorn asks, quite curious.

"And someone -- I don't know who -- gave me a... gift.  I had it on me that day, and it was... acting up?  Yeah, that's probably the way to put it.  If it wasn't Ashnod, which I gather was the case, I thought that that was what saved me.  And I'm guessing they've already taken that away."

"Well, then we'll see what comes of it," she says doubtfully.  "Yeah, I am, somewhat.  I've met a few others, but it seems to be just a little different for everyone."  She scoots back on her bridge, and draws her knees up to her chest.  "Even when I was a little girl, I believed in magic.  I don't know if it's some scientific thing, or if it really is magic ... and I gather the people who work here don't know, either.  But we both know that it does work.

"And now for the kicker -- I also see things."  She smiles dryly, lookin up from the river and at you.  "I can see ... that there's something about you that's different.  I mean, everyone's different, but there's something there I can't ... quite ... understand."

She shakes her head.  "We knew Ashnod was back," she says, changing the subject abruptly.  "But he's not let out here with us.  Did he ... did he look alright?" she asks worriedly, shooting a glance at the little girl.

"Well, I don't exactly know his baseline condition," Bjorn says drily, "but no, I don't think he was alright."  Not much worse for being hit by my car, at least.

Megan flinches.  "Oh," she says quietly.  Shaking her head, she opens her mouth to say something else, but closes it when the door opposide the cafeteria sign bursts open, a doctor attended by two S.W.A.T. armored guards striding towards you purposefully.

"Damn," she says under her breath.  "Looks like my time's up for today.  See you tomorrow, huh?"

You also hear, though her lips don't move: be ... careful ...

"I will."  Let that stand for both.

She nods, and rises to her feet, shooting a last glance at the little girl before marching towards the guards.  She meets them a short distance away.  The doctor has his face uncovered, unlike the guards.  He actually seems genial enough, all things considered.  Average height, black hair, the beginings of a five-c'clock shadow.

He consults a clipboard and offers a comment -- you can't quite make it out over the sound of the running water by your feet.  He's got a relaxed stance and a jovial demeanor, but Megan doesn't seem amused in the slightest.  The doctor's attempts at friendliness are short-lived, and he falls silent, gesturing her to follow.  Both guards have their facemasks up, and have sidearms on hip-holsters, and a baton, though neither is holding a weapon at the moment.

After consulting with his clipboard for a minute or two, the doctor glances at you thoughtfully, but quickly turns his attention back to Megan when she says something that makes him grimace distastefully.  She merely eyes him back coolly, and he gestures her forward.  One of the guards takes her elbow, and she's escorted through the double doors.

Only a few of the other residents even looked up for the display.  Behind you, the little glass-crafter is staring thoughtfully at a tiny glass rocking horse, though it seems crude compared to the figurine you're still holding.

Shifting slightly to sit on the bridge, just as Megan did, Bjorn studies the other inmates (or guinea pigs... probably a bit of both.  Goddamnit, why did I....) as carefully as he can, cupping the figurine loosely in one hand to hide it from view.

And he thinks, and he plans, but neither is very easy.

Nearest to you is Jonas, according to Megan.  The healer.  He's somewhat stocky, looks Asian, and appears completely absorbed in staring at the flower on his table with a vacant expression and a grin.  Past him, you see two men and a woman communicating with handsigns.  They're standing closest to the archway capped with flowers.

To your right, opposite the river from the glass-crafter, you see a mucle-bound, pale man talking with a man who looks to be in his fifties, at least.  The brute's got probably shoulder-length hair tied back with what looks like a torn-off scrap of his sleeve.  The older man is nodding at what the brute is saying, without saying anything in reply, though their words are muffled by the trickling water.

In fact, sitting on the bridge, you almost don't hear a chime from the speaker inset beneath the walkway, above the cafeteria door.  A few residents look up at the sound, and meander towards the door, but more ignore it, continuing going about their business.

Now that you've got a better vantage, and time to study, you see quite a few of the other people have 'toys' here.  There's a middle-aged woman tinkering with an obviously broken radio, and a girl playing with a pair of dolls.  Behind them, you can see another man trying to juggle beanbags.  He's not very good, but the ones he misses don't fall to the ground....

Bjorn watches the glassworker for a while, at the same time straining his ears to try and catch the conversation between the two men.

The girl seems oblivious to the outside world, just playing with her broken glass.

You manage to filter a few words out over the rushing of the water, though only one of the two is speaking.  The brute speaks in simple words, rarely using anything with more than one sylable, and slurs his words, making them difficult to understand.  But from what you can glean, he's talking to the older man about being afraid of the dark.

This does not bode well.  Rising smoothly to his feet, Bjorn wanders over in the direction of the cafeteria, with the intention of peeking inside the door.

The cafeteria is almost as brightly lit as the common area.  From what you can see, it's very sterile, every surface either polished aluminum, or bleached white tile.  The ceiling in that room is raised, too, and the doors on the upper walkway suggest that the guards are probably patrolling there, too.  You can't tell what's being served, but someone in a light blue jumpsuit stands behind a counter and parcels out trays to the people shuffling in line.

Bjorn shrugs to himself and goes to get in line for some food.  You can tell quite a bit about people by the food they serve.

There's not too many people, so the line's all but gone once you get inside.  The speaker system is playing some low-key meandering tune.  From here, you can see a few cafeteria-style tables with built-in benches on either side of the door.

At the counter, you're greeted with a variety of foods to choose from, ranging from lasagne, to porridge.  The man behind the counter asks, "What would you like?" as you approach, preparing a tray.

"Answers," Bjorn replies drily.   "Failing that...." After a few seconds of contemplation, he chooses whatever food has been processed the least.

"Talk to a doctor," the cafeteria worker advises you, piling some mixed vegetables and mystery meat on the plate before handing it to you.  "Drinks are to your right," he adds, turning to some of the residents who had trailed in behind you.  It's the trio of hand-signers, and they make vague gestures towards the stuff behind the sneeze-guard.

Apparently, it means something to the server, because he replies, "Try again tomorrow.  What do you want that we're actually serving?"

Bjorn takes a seat at the unoccupied table closest to the food counter, and then takes a close look at his food.  That only lasts a second, before he converts to a more distant look and wrinkles his nose.  Bah.  Even if it isn't drugged -- and no way of knowing -- I'm not hungry enough to eat this shit.

Instead, he focusses on rearranging the food on his plate enough to make it looks like he's eaten.  Won't fool anyone who actually cares, but what the hell.

Most of the other people in the cafeteria are only poking at their food themselves.  You don't appear to be the only one uninterested in it.  It does remind you that a fair number of the people in the common area ignored the chime, and that they obviously knew what they were coming in for.

From your seat you can see the drink bar.  It appears to serve water, in both hot and cold varieties.  There are also small bottles of milk, and a couple packets of instant drink mix or tea.

You're not seated very long before you hear booted footsteps approaching from the commons.

Ignoring the bootsteps, Bjorn walks up to get some hot water and some tea.

Hot water and a cup.  Not the best weapons, but weapons nonetheless.   Now, to do something stupid or not?

"Hot" is a bit generous here.  "Very warm", and you doubt the styrofoam cup would do much damage.  Though, without pockets, you could slip your glass figurine into the cup.

Another two guards come in, accompanied by the same doctor that took Megan away.  He glances at you momentarily, but tucks his clipboard into his belt and makes handsigns at one of the three handsigners.  The man who's singled out makes some gestures back, and the doctor raises an eyebrow.

Another series of hand-signs follow from both the doctor and the man, though his companions have quietly slipped away, and are pointedly staring at the floor.  Finally, the doctor says, "Tranquilize him."  In the quiet, over the overly cheery music, you hear the cocking of a weapon from an overhead walkway.

The signer puts his hands up and shakes his head quickly.

"Glad for your cooperation," the doctor says dryly.  Turning to you, he adds, "Enjoy your drink -- we'll be seeing you next."

With that, he turns on one heel and wheels away, though the signer has to have each elbow taken by a guard before he follows, shooting accusatory glares at his silent friends.

Humming thoughtfully to himself, Bjorn makes a nice, strong cup of tea, as dark as he can arrange.  While it steeps, he heads back out into the play area, and from there back to his dormitory room, palming the figurine into the tea as he goes along.

You didn't notice it before, but now that you're in front of your room (rainbow corridor, #4), you see a placard with your name on it inset into the face.  It's the type with a slip of card-paper stuck between two panes of plexiglass.

Once you get inside, you see that someone has apparently cleaned your room.  They also dropped off a spare jumpsuit, which is neatly folded atop the bed, and a small set of drawers underneath the kitten poster.

Putting the cup of tea on top of the dresser, and the spare jumpsuit in a drawer, Bjorn lies down on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, to think and to await the apparent inevitable.

While lying on the bed, you notice that directly above the doorway, and opposite it (directly over the bed) there are two ventilation ducts.  This is not odd in and of itself, but light glints off of something in the one over the door.

The immediate urge to bound to his feet and examine it from close-up is quickly suppressed.  Instead, still affecting an introspectful posture, he does his best to get as many details about that duct as he can, without moving from where he is.

From your position, given the location of the glint when compared to the frame of the ventilation grill, you surmise that it is most likely a camera.  Either that, or they put a smoke detector in the ventilation system.

Looking up, you can't tell if they put one in the opposite duct, but it seems possible.

Soon after you come to this conclusion, however, there is a knock at your door.

"Come in," Bjorn says pleasantly, but without rising.

The door opens and the doctor steps in, accompanied by the same two guards.  "Mr. Christianson," he says pleasantly, surveying the clipboard before him.  "Hmm.  How are you feeling today?"

"A bit disoriented."  Moving slowly, Bjorn gets to his feet, though not moving any closer to the door.  "And how are you?"

The doctor looks up from his clipboard, blinking.  "Fine," he says, somewhat off-guard.  "We don't have any records for you, so if you don't mind, we'd like to take you upstairs, have a word ... see if you belong here, or if we need to send you home."

"Well, that certainly sounds reasonable," says Bjorn affably.  "But why don't we just talk here?  You can sit on the bed, I don't mind -- I'm just as comfortable sitting on the ground, really."

The doctor nods amiably.  "Sounds reasonable, I suppose.  Mr. Christianson, my name is Garret Peterson, I'm the lead healthcare official for the Workshop.  It's my duty to make sure that all our guests are kept as healthy as possible."  He flips up a sheet on his clipboard, not moving to sit down.  "Of course, we are somewhat exclusive, so we'll have to verify that you do belong here, if you want to stay.  If you don't want to stay, that shouldn't be a problem, as long as you can prove yourself not to be dangerous.  But tell me, Mr. Christianson, have you ever had an encounter with the paranormal, or experienced something that science -- as you know it -- could not explain?"

Bjorn ponders.   "Well, I was there when Ashnod shot a helicopter out of the air with a stream of flame that came from nowhere.  So, yes, I think I have."

Dr. Peterson frowns.  "That was your first such experience?" he mumbles.  "How odd.  Do you mind if I ask you about that bracelet you have?"

Bjorn shrugs.  "While you've just said everything about the bracelet that I know, feel free.  On that note, however, do you mind if I ask where my possessions are?"

The doctor blinks at you, looking up from his clipboard. "Hmm," he noises, scribbling something down.  "Your possessions are in a locker, pending your release.  Where did you get that bracelet?"

"It was mailed to me, with no return address."

"Fascinating," he murmurs, scribbling something on his notepad, and turning another page over.  "No idea who sent it, I imagine?  And, do you remember the date you recieved it?"

"No to both."  Bjorn shrugs.  "I've had it for quite some time, though."

"Would you say you've had it since before March 30th, 2004?" Dr. Peterson asks, looking up at you questioningly.

"Probably not, but I could be wrong.  Do you mind," Bjorn asks patiently, "explaining why my possessions are at all relevant as to why I'm here?"

One of the guards shifts his feet, his boots scraping across the ultra-short carpeting in the room.  The doctor glances at him, but quickly turns his attention back to you.  "Your possessions are not here for two reasons.  One of them being we want to establish that you are of sound mind, and not a danger to yourself or others.  The other is that we wanted to study your fetish specifcally.  Is that what it is?"  His pen is poised to write something else down, but he waits on your reply.

"My... fetish?"  Bjorn blinks blankly.  "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Your totem?" the doctor poses, his pen moving away from his paper.  "Your focus?  The bracelet, I suppose, until we know more.  Essentially, it's what allows you to do ... what you do.  It seems to protect you from the paranormal."

Both of the guards look uncomfortable at this, and look away from the doctor, staring at the floor.

"We've read the reports, but your bracelet does nothing for anyone else.  It offers no protection whatsoever."

"I have absolutely no idea," Bjorn says patiently, "why, conciously or unconciously, I would attach any significance to a piece of junk jewelry that I have kept solely because my parents raised me to be a pack rat.

"Furthermore, I also have no idea why you think I have any sort of paranormal ability at all.  While I understand we're in one of those situations where you're supposed to be asking the questions, perhaps it might simplify things if you explained that a little first."

"It goes something like this," the doctor says, tapping his pen against his thigh.  "You were able to withstand Ashnod's fire.  He is ... quite powerful.  It's very difficult for any of those metas here with defensive abilities to even soften the impact of his power.  You, on the other hand, weren't even singed when he attacked you.  We'd like to know why.

"Knowing this would be the key to constraining his power, allowing him to try and live a normal, functional life in society without having to worry about accidentally, say, setting a building on fire, or killing innocent bystanders with a flare of temper."

Bjorn shrugs again.  "That sounds like a wonderful goal, but again, I didn't do anything.   As far as I'm concerned, the only trick to not being burnt is not to catch fire.   Why don't you ask whoever it was that Miss Taylor thought was my partner?"

"That delusion of Miss Taylor's was not recorded by any of the monitoring equipment on board the monitoring vessel," the doctor dismisses.  "We assume it's merely a symptom of her deepening psychosis."

"You are looking for something that 'science, as you know it, cannot explain,'" Bjorn points out, with nary a trace of sarcasm or irony in his voice (or at least, so he hopes).  "How can you be sure your equipment was up to the task?  Someone powerful enough to block both Ashnod's attack and your detection equipment is at least as likely as the theory that I am a metahuman who needs an object that I've always considered to be no more than a curious piece of junk in order to exercise my power.  A power, I must point out, that I don't even think I have."

"While what you say is true, we don't have any way we can try and track down something we can't even see.  You, on the other hand, are right here before us.  It seems to me quite logical that we'd try and get what information we can from you ... ideally with your co-operation," Dr. Peterson says somewhat tersely.  It's obvious his patience is wearing thin at this point.  The guards straighten up, looking forward, but not looking at the doctor, and not meeting your eyes.

Bjorn spreads his hands wide.   "Certainly.  But I've told you everything I know, and that's not much."

"That may be true," Dr. Peterson conceeds.  "However ... what we can learn from you may still be more than you know.  We'd be fools to pass up an opportunity to learn more, and bigger fools to release a potentially dangerous and violent patient into the public.

"Regardless, we'd like to run a few tests to verify your condition, to see if you produce any kind of defensive reaction, and to find out if indeed, we just need to send you home.  This will be much easier with your cooperation."

"What sort of tests are you thinking of?" Bjorn asks quietly, his face impassive.

Roll for conversation
<Musk-bot> --> Bjorn rolls 3d6 and gets 9.

"We'd like to do a psyciatric evaluation on you, and then some of the standard tests," the doctor replies with apparent honesty.  "And then, some more ... well ... probably confusing things.  I'm sure you're familiar with them.  The card test, and such.  Just to measure if there IS anything about you that warrants further investigation."

A long pause develops, right to the point of being uncomfortable, and then Bjorn nods, once.  "All right."  Sinking to sit cross-legged right in place, he asks, courteously, "Shall we begin?"

The doctor blinks, and frowns vaguely.  "I don't have my cards with me," he drawls.  "Nor a dozen other things.  If you accompany me back to the lab, upstairs, we'll be all set."

"Ah," Bjorn says sagely.  "Well, then...."  Getting to his feet, he extends a polite hand to the doorway.  "After you."

Nodding, Dr. Peterson steps outside, both of the guards still watching you expectantly.

Bjorn steps through the door, and immediately side-steps, so as to make the way clear for the guards to come through -- and, of course, entirely incidentally, putting his back to the wall.

Dr. Peterson's back is to you, but the guards take note, keeping their distance and watching you warily.  One of them motions you to go ahead, apparently willing to give you clear access to the good doctor rather than trusting you behind him.

Grinning, Bjorn winks at the guards, and then moves after the doctor, moving rapidly and smoothly, but barely moving his arms from his side.

Internally, he chides himself.  Playing mind games is stupid, especially since they've probably seen 'em all before.  On the other hand... not likely going to hurt me until they know at least part of what they want to know, and they're already a bit afraid of me.  So, why not push 'em a little?  Maybe something useful'll come up...

Huh.  A mutahuman?

You're led across the playroom, only a few of the other residents even glancing at your direction.  The only ones that stick out are the two remaining handsigners, and the brute (who is afraid of the dark).

The door opens before Dr. Peterson reaches it, revealing a long corridor, line with a plexi-glass lined guard booth build into the wall on either side.  Each contains two guards.  The guards here are one each in S.W.A.T. gear, and two in lighter, more practical armor.  Your guards stop, and enter the booths, while the more lightly armored duo exits.  The door clicks shut behind you, security bolts automatically slamming home (with the obligatory grating security buzz).

Dr. Peterson continues down the corridor, which is unbroken for some distance.  The lighting here is visibly dimmed from the playroom, simple, everyday florescent bulbs.  The wall and floor arethe same tile as the cafeteria, and the ceiling is concrete.  At regular intervals (about every five meters) there is a round port in the wall surrounded by yellow-and-black striped tape.  They appear to be valves, though the purposes is uncertain at this point.

After about fifty meters, the corridor ends in front of an elevator.  A few other doctors (judging by their labcoats) are discussing things in a lab that's half medical research equipment (you recognize a piece or two) and half computer banks (you recognize quite a bit more of these).

The new guards motion you to halt, as Dr. Peterson ducks inside the lab.  You can see him chatting with another of the doctors through the plexiglass lab front.

Bjorn sizes up the new guards (what sort of weapons they're carrying, their demeanour, if they're hot), before going back to watching the doctors inside the lab -- and trying to puzzle out more of that medical equipment.

Each guard is standing a handful of meters away from you; far enough to arm themselves with the batons they're carrying before you get in reach.  No helmets, here, unlike the previous guards, but they are wearing thinner (though still obvious) protective vests.  Additionally, you heard clinking chains when they walked, even though you haven't seen handcuffs.  Most likely they're on the backs of their belts.  Both of them are relatively nondescript, average-looking individuals.  Short hair (left's dark, righty's brown), brown eyes, average height, moderately muscular build.

You could probably take one of them in a fight.

Maybe.

Bjorn meets the eyes of each guard, one after the other, holding their gaze for just a few seconds, before turning to study the lab and the doctors again.

The guards return your stare impassively.  The lab machinery you recognize is standard stuff, admitedly.  The small compartment used to sterilize equipment, the thingamajigger that does that ... well, you don't know THAT one.  But you recognize the equipment used for standard blood tests, as well as what you expect would be more advanced versions of the same.

The computers, on the other hand, look like standard x-windows terminals, though the interface looks a bit dated.  More appropriate for the late ninetys than the modern day.

You don't have time to do much more before Dr. Peterson emerges through the open doorway, and nods at you.  "Sorry about the delay," he says, before turning away and marching down a branching corridor to the right.

Right or left -- either way features tiled floors, paneled walls, and cork-board panel-ceilings, dotted regularly with ventilation ducts, lighting panels, loudspeaker grills, smoke detectors, and emergency fire extinguishers.  But there are more glass-and-wire-mesh windows lining the outer perimeter of the corridor, assuming that your current path circles the playroom, which seems likely.  You can't really see into any of them from where you are, but the guards nod at you to follow the doctor.

And follow the doctor Bjorn does, though this time, for variety, he's moving rather leisurely, just moving fast enough not to lose sight of the doctor, and more than slow enough to annoy anyone who was, hypothetically speaking, walking behind him.

After a few steps of this, the guards draw their batons and hold them ready, though make no actual move to strike.  It would appear your behavior has them on edge....

Eventually, you catch up to Dr. Peterson, passing by a few more glass-n-wire windows as you do so.  With your pace, you get to see: A room full of switches and network cables.  No visible servers, however.  The door is closed, and most likely locked.  The sign says, "Datapod Subswitch A-N".  There's an awful lot of blinky lights in there.

A totally black window (with a crack running across the pane) with an ancient label in poster-board taped to one corner reading, "Ezmereth", and in very slightly newer plastic bulletin, "No known T-3 or higher admittance".  Even that's got a layer of dust on it, though.  The door is shut, though judging by the warping of the frame and the steel door (under the paint, you weren't sure what it was before) it's actually melted shut.  Whatever placard was on the door itself has been torn off.  A glance back reveals that this room, whatever it was, makes the guards nervous.

The next window is a nursery, with room for 12 infants, though only two are present.  A nurse watches over them closely, only glancing at you for a moment.  This door is not only closed, but has a slot for a security card to be swiped, which is displaying a lit red LED, and an unlit green one.

The window after reveals a large room, with the accoustic mottling on the walls you've come to associate with sound-booths.  The floor is littered with loose padding and foam, and a variety of objects ranging from paper-clips and feathers, to large iron weights and what looks like an honest-to-goodness anvil.  This door is open, but you can see from the doorway that only a plexiglass booth is accessable -- the rest of the room is sealed away.

The next window is not a window, but a pair of empty (and probably locked) security booths, and beyond them is a sealed bulkhead reading '04 - NE - C'.  Glancing to your right, you see a hallway leading back towards where you believe the playroom is, though it only goes in about two meters before ending in a rather solid looking sealed bulk-head reading '04 - NE - B'.

Past that is a throne room to some primitive god of wires.  Cabling and extension cords lie everwhere, in someplaces half a meter deep, most of them leading to a massive stainless steel arm-chair with what you can tell from here is too-thin padding, and a large, nearly comically sci-fi crown-like aparatus.  Dr. Peterson stops before this room long enough for you to catch up, sifting through pages on his clipboard.  "Testing for M class," he mutters.  "Well, we'll work on D-class tests, first."  Mumbling something incomprehensible about someone named 'Victor', he trudges along the hallway even further.

The next window is a darkened room, but appears to contain animal cages of some type.  This door is also closed.

Following this is another pair of bulkheads (04 - E - B and 04 - E - C, respectively) and empty security booths.  You're not positive, but you believe that the vine-topped archway of the playroom meets up with this sealed corridor.  Your room, in the rainbow-marked corridor, would be opposite the 04 NE series bulkheads.  The curvature is more obvious, here, making what you suspect is a giant oval around the playroom.

The next room is the one that Dr. Peterson enters.  It's brightly lit, and a lone heavily armored guard (just donning his helmet when you round the corner enough to see him), and two technicians are here.  One half of the room contains a smaller, sealed off section behind what looks like a meter-thick series of glass blocks, mortared with cement.  It's difficult to see inside, as the interior is wavery and not smooth at all, but it appears empty.  Some sort of machinery is inside, and a huge door of some unknown material (possibly ceramic) lies open, looking rather like a bank vault.

The other side of the room contains various pieces of monitoring equipment, and a pair of assistant technicians.  The doctor motions you into the vault, and consults with one of the machines.  All three of the guards look at you expectantly.

Bjorn takes a step closer to the vault, but only one.  Holding his hands behind his back, he leans forward, curiously, as to examine the interior of the room as best he can, and then, straightening, he asks the doctor, "Do you mind if I ask what sort of test this is supposed to be?  It seems rather more than needed for cards."

Dr. Peterson blinks at you, looking up from the machine he's at.  "Your bracelet is in there," he says patiently.  "The cards are for T-series testing, which will be tomorow.  We're begining with D-series, at the moment."

From where you are, you can see the interior of this space is mostly concrete, except for where it's glass cubes.  The interior has been at some point, somewhat molten, and the door does appear to be ceramic from here.   Judging by the faint dual smells of both scorched carbon and bleach, it's not just an appearance, either.  A small aluminum folding table sits near the back of the chamber, next to the cement wall.  There's a ceramic hatchway in the ceiling, with two burnt out points that you guess may have once been warning lights.  The silver bracelet is clearly visible on the table, illuminating a barely impercetable glow.

"Reaction's increased by about sixty percent with proximity," one of the aides says aloud, prompting a sharp stare from Dr. Peterson.

"Yes, well," the doctor says.  "This is for our safety, you must understand.  We don't know exactly what you will do once you have that device, and without proper control, you could easily hurt someone if you aren't careful."

"That does not, in fact, answer my question."  Bjorn looks directly at Dr. Peterson, with his face blank.  "The test in question is, I step in there, pick up the bracelet, and...?"

"We monitor the reaction, of course," Dr. Peterson says, as though to a child.

"Yes," Bjorn says darkly, "but the reaction to what?

"The only thing you know about my alleged power, Dr. Peterson, is that you think it protected me from fire.  And now you want to lock me into a room that looks slightly more well-done than Hell's own hamburger.  Since I don't think I have a power, and, to be frank, the Workshop hasn't real done a great deal to convince me that they have my welfare at heart, do you understand that while I want to be cooperative, I'd appreciate it if you were a little more forthcoming?

"I am a research scientist, Dr. Peterson.  Please, take the time to tell me about your experimental set-up."

As he delivers this speech, Bjorn stares Dr. Peterson straight in the eyes, projecting his ki and his confidence, in an effort to cow the man.  At the same time, though, with his periphial vision, he searches for anything -- a pen, a pipette, a ruler, that he could use as a weapon (or futile gesture, more likely).

The most feasible weapons that come to mind might be some of the machinery or lab equipment, assuming you were able to get to it before the guards got to you.  Of course, with them between you and it....

The next likely possibility would be the weapons of the guards themselves.  The batons of the lightly armored duo look familiar, and worked decently the last time you tried them.  The blocky pistol of the S.W.A.T. armored guard makes that a questionable possibility, however, and he's holding another tazer.

Roll for presence attack:
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Bjorn ... :3d6 --> {8}

The doctor is entirely unimpressed with your stance.  Perhaps he's seen freakier things in his life while working in this place.  Perhaps it's because his goons outnumber you six to one.  Perhaps it's because really, he's just a tough nut to crack.

Either way, he sighs, and reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a cigarette case.  He snaps it open, and pulls out a stick of bubble-gum.  "Really, Mr. Christianson, try to be reasonable.  We have work to do here."  He pops the gum into his mouth, and pockets the case right after.

"Reasonable."  Bjorn considers.  "Whatever you say."

With that, he breaks into a full sprint, aiming right between the center and the leftmost guard.

But only two steps in, just as everyone is starting to react to his sudden movement, he wheels about, and charges directly in the vault.  Grabbing the bracelet from the table, he grunts, heaves the table up, and starts to run back toward the door, throwing the aluminum contraption into the doorway as he goes.

Jesus H. Longshot Christ, I hope this works....

Presence attack -1d6 second attack, +2 surprise modifier, +1 ingenuity bonus
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Bjorn ... : 5d6 --> {16}
The guards instinctively, leap backwards, readying their weapons, and the aides squeal like frightened pigs, dropping to the floor.  Dr. Peterson is still entirely unphased; he pops his chewing gum into his mouth as you turn around, and rush back towards the vault.

You clear the sill of the doorway and run across the semi-sticky surface of the chamber floor.

Dex check:
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Bjorn ... : 3d6 --> {17}
You're just reaching for the bracelet when the sticky surface gives way to an unexpected patch of grit, and you unexpectedly careen into the wall.
Dex check:
Them bones was tossed for Bjorn ... : 3d6 --> {9}
Catching your self against the wall, you push off, turning and grabbing the table in the same motion -- the bracelet goes sliding off and you barely snag it with your left hand while heaving the table ahead of you.  The door is already swinging shut -- and fast.
To throw table as placed object:
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Bjorn ... :3d6 --> {12}
The table flies end-over-end, and bounces off the center of the door.  Its legs catch in the groove of the doorway, between the lip of the entrance and the actual door itself with a dull 'clang', and the door swings shut on the leg-strut.
Crushing damage of door vs. table:
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... :12#1d6 normal damage --> {1}{1}{1}{1}{2}{2}{4}{4}{4}{5}{6}{6}
Improbably, the frail little aluminum table stops the ceramic door, though it's bending, and the door is still trying to cloase.  You can hear straining machinery through the glass, and you're running low on time (even running) before the door shuts entirely -- that table can't hold out much longer than a second or two.

Running full speed at the gap between door and doorway, Bjorn utters a quick prayer (who to? Wish I sorted that out) and the second he's within range, throws himself into a forward roll through whatever space remains.

Dexterity check:
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Bjorn ... : 3d6 --> {7}
The table gives one alarming slow-motion creak, accompanied with a buckling motion, about the same time you leap -- consequences be damned.

It's no clumsy-escape, you manage to slip through the rapidly closing gap in a dive above the collapsing table, twisting your body to the side as you do so.  You feel certain that your toes brush the door before it completely slams shut, obliterating the table.

You're now lying on the floor, and the guards rush you.  They are stayed, within weapons' range, by Dr. Peterson, "Hold on," he says.  "Most impressive.  Now tell me, Mr. Christianson, how you accomplished that?" he says calmly, punctuating his question with a loud snap of his bubble gum.

"Seven fucking years of martial arts," Bjorn grunts, bounding to his feet.  "Gimme another three and I wouldn't have had to run."

Settling himself in the no-stance of his art (arms hanging loosely in a circle before him, feet apart), he says, "Now, doctor, this seems like a reasonable way for you to measure the bracelet's reaction.  Shall we proceed?"

"No, I think we're done with that," he says, staring at your wrist for a moment, then scribbling on his clipboard, and mumbling aloud.  "C class, 2."  The guards are watching you warily.

"I think we're done for the rest of today, matter-of-factly," the doctor says pleasantly.  "We haven't been able to cut it, so I imagine that ends our tests ... unless, of course, you're willing to give up the wrist and relinquish that bracelet?"

What the hell?

In utter confusion, Bjorn glances down at his wrists.

The bracelet, which you cannot slip over your hand, is on your left wrist, comfortably loosely, but too tight to remove.  The glow has also faded back to its previously imperceptable level.

"I think you can return to your room now," Dr. Peterson adds, turning to inspect one of the machines that was apparently monitoring the event.  "Fascinating," he breathes, already apparently even forgetting you're there.

More than a bit confused, coming down off an aldrenaline high, and starting to get rather worried, Bjorn seeks some simple pleasure in pacing off back to the playground, leaving the guards to scurry after him.

Okay.  The bright side is... whatever this bracelet can do (or I can do with this bracelet), they can't take away from me now....

Which means I might have a weapon.

All three of the guards escort you back to the commons, though it gives you pause when you enter.  It's now 'night' in the playroom.  The sun-lamps have been extinguished in favor of a large, silver spherical lamp, which appears to be on a track leading from one edge of the playroom to the other, even higher than the guard's walkways.  It's half black light, and half low-light, granting the area something of a 'night' quality, while not actually being that dark.  Tiny pinpoint lights simulate stars, and someone even bothered to put a humidifier in the ventilation ducts that provide the breeze, so it's vaguely damp, as well.

A few of the regulars, and likely a number of different people are outside, glancing your way when you enter the room, but quickly away.  The tunnel decorated with animals is still brightly lit, and you can see the brute cowering just inside the pool of light, staring at the light-shedding 'moon' fearfully.  Your own rainbow-capped tunnel is somewhat darker, but still easily navigable, and the fountain has been turned low.

For a second, Bjorn is torn -- talking to the brute would be a chance to make another contact in the Workshop, another possible ally -- but decides against it.  He's tired, and stressed, and confused, and there's nothing for it but to go to bed and try to get some rest....

And so he finds himself walking towards the brute, because in the end, when people need help, you have to try to give it.  Goddamn Confucious.

If your ancient philosopher of choice has a snappy comeback, it doesn't occur to you before you reach the brute.  And really, looking at him, that's the best word for it.  Huddled as he is, his shoulder comes up higher than your waist, and he barely needs to look up at you when you approach.  This guy looks like he tops seven feet, easily, and from what you can see, has no fat anywhere on his body.  More impressive, of course, is the fact that he looks solidly built enough to tear small cars in half, and use them to beat up larger cars.

He's got somewhat unruly black hair, still bound in a torn-off strip of his own jumpsuit sleeve, and blue eyes that seem they'd be more in place on a child than someone of his stature.  "Are a doc'er?" he asks you with an equally childish lisp, some of his fear visibly dissapating as you approach.

I have a goddamn doctorate from Caltech. "No," Bjorn replies gravely, "I'm not."  Coming to a stop outside the mouth of the tunnel (and, worryingly, inside the reach of the brute -- but he wouldn't seem very comforting if he stayed that far away), he inquires, as gently as he can manage, "Are you alright?"

The brute relaxes somewhat at your admission of not being a doctor.  "Oh," he says quietly.  "I'm just ascared of the dark," he says, pointing at the darkened playroom, in case you hadn't noticed the dimming effect.  In a very loud whisper he adds, "There's scary stuff inna dark."  Looking around furitively, he adds in a much softer whisper, "Sometimes, the doc'ers, they put me inna dark.  I don' like th' dark."

Bjorn goes to reassure the brute, and then reconsiders.  For all he knows, the big guy's power is to make scary stuff appear in the dark.  Instead, he considers, staring off into the distance down the hallway.  "Well, what about your room?  Is that lit?"

He shrugs uncomfortably, and nods.  "But there's no-one there," he mumbles.  "And I don' sleep."

Okay.  That probably shouldn't have surprised me. "You don't sleep?" Bjorn echoes stupidly.

"Nuh, uh," he says, almost proudly.  "That's what makes me special, the doc'ers tell me.  Miss Megan says they're right, so it must be true."  He nods emphatically.  "Ol' man Zarus, he says that it's why I'm ascared of the dark.  'cause it's where you dream.  Only, I never had a dream, so I dunnu if it's true."  He becomes gloomy again, and slumps over.  "But, I'm too ascared of the dark to try and sleep."

Bjorn snorts quietly with amusement.  "You know, it's kind of strange.  I had a friend who was afraid of the dark, too.  But he was afraid because he had to sleep, and so he would never know if something scary was coming for him, or defend himself if it did."

Thank you, Dr. Christianson.   We're oh-so-glad that with a single observation you could cure a psychosis.  What will you do for your next trick, you stupid pompous git?

The brute blinks at you, then frowns slightly.  In the most quiet voice you've heard from him yet, he says, "I think the doc'ers want me to be ascared of the dark."

Hm.  Bjorn squats in place, which requires him to look up at the big man.  "Why do you think that?" he asks, just as quietly.

"I dunno," he says.  After a second he says, "Well, maybe I kinda know, but Miss Megan and 'ol man Zarus know better."  He shivers.  "If I stop being ascared of the dark ... it might make the doc'ers mad...."

Bjorn nods, slowly.  "Well, I do have to sleep, but I'm not very tired right now.  Is there anything I can do to help?"

Before he answers, you hear the man door open.  The brute looks over to see what's going on, as two guards (no visible doctors) haul Megan through the entrance.  She's almost entirely limp, but is muttering loudly (audible from where you are), "Get away!  Get away!  I can't think!  Stop it, get away!"  The other residents that are out in the 'night' back away, giving her a wide berth as the guards carry her into the vine-capped tunnel on the opposite end of the playroom.

Bjorn follows Megan's progress until she is lost to sight, and then turns back to the big man, cocking an eyebrow inquiringly.

She vanishes into the tunnel, yelling something loud and incoherent briefly before falling quiet.  You can dimly make out her and the guards as they move out of your sight, ostensibly to put her in her room.

When you turn back to look at the brute, he's on his feet -- you did not hear, or (improbably) see him move.  He's straining at the edge of the pool of light from the tunnel like a leashed dog, physically unable to move any further.  His hands are clenched into fists, and he looks ... not furious, but very very unhappy.

After a minute or two, the guards come back into view, making a bee-line for the entrance.  The brute visibly relaxes, sitting on the floor and huddling in on himself.  "Miss Megan does not look happy," he mutters.  "But I can't help her, 'cause the dark is in the way."

Light. Bjorn stares down at his wrist, at the junky piece of metal that seems to be important enough to completely reshape his life.  The only bloody use this thing seems to have is glowing.  I wonder if....

Bjorn bends his mind to trying to get the bracelet to glow again -- which is, of course, tricky, since he has no idea whatsoever how it works.

Your bracelet glints slightly, but you're not certain if it's a trick of the light around you, or if it's just your imagination.  Aside from that, nothing seems to have changed.

Stupid imaginary powers.  "I'm going to go check on Megan," Bjorn says gently to the big man.  "If I'm with you, can you get through the dark?"

He seems hesitant, but nods slowly.  "I c'n try," he says, shambling back to his feet like a living mountain of muscle.

"Okay.  Just keep your eyes on me.  Remember, as long as you can see me, it's not that dark."

With those less-than-compelling words of encouragement, Bjorn heads off, moving as quickly as the big man can follow him, down the tunnel with the mouth of painted vines, and towards Megan's room.

Hopefully Mr. Big knows where that is.

Towards the vine-covered tunnel you go.  The residents that are out pause to look at you -- or not at you, but at the brute behind you.  And you can sense him trailing you like a shadow, even if you don't look back.  You manage to make it to the vine-corridor, which is not, in fact, lit, but there is more light in it, as someone has left a  door open, and light spills out from it.

The brute pushes ahead, not quite running, but quickly walking to stand in that pool, then catch his breath.  He wears a look of determination, and says, "Miss Megan's room is..." he pauses to count on his fingers, "three more doors down."

"All right."  Bjorn nods, then hesitates.  "If you want, you can wait in the light here until I open the door to Megan's room.  That way, you won't have to stand in the dark."

He seems uncertain, looking between you and the darkened hallway as though torn.  His indecision is broken when you hear tiny feet pattering down the hallway towards you.  Emerging from the room that the brute indicated was Megan's, you see the little glass-crafter, who quickly latches onto him (she comes up to about his knee), then stares at you, and makes a series of hand-gestures (with one hand) that you recognize from the signers earlier.

You can't really understand what she's trying to explain, until she makes a gesture that seems to indicate you running down the hall.

The brute nods solemly, and pats her on the head.  "I'm gonna stay here with Bridgey," he announces gravely.

"All right, then."  Bjorn trots off down the hall to Megan's room, and knocks on the door.

The door is still open, as it is presumably where the glass-crafter came from.  The light's on low, and Megan is huddled on the floor of a sparsely decorated room, leaning against the matress and mumbling, "Too much noise, gotta think, too loud," over and over, rocking back and forth slightly.

"Megan?"  Bjorn takes a single step into the room before hesitating, a hand halfway lifted.  "Are you okay?"

She flinches when you step closer, and at the same time, your bracelet seems to tug at your wrist slightly, emitting a soft blue glow.  It barely stands out against the low light, but is obviously actually shedding light.  Megan shakes her head, as though coming out of a trance, and blinks at you blearily.

"You made it quiet," she says, frowning.  She then climbs to her feet slowly, unsteadily. "Is that what you do?"

"Absord power?  Maybe.  That seems to fit, anyways."  Bjorn frowns down at the bracelet.   Oh, sure, now I get the light.  "Though I still don't know if it's me or the bracelet.

"You're doing better, then?"

"No, it's ... it's like a wall.  She rubs at her temples.  Everything I ... ugh.  That test made it impossible to not pick up other people ... but now it's quiet.  Like you're just blocking everything else out."  She eyes you, then frowns.  "Ugh.  You were hard to read, before, but now it's impossible."

Bjorn smiles briefly.  "You're not the first person to say that to me, but I guess you probably mean it a little differently."  He squats down in place, and looks at Megan, hesitantly.  "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's just more of the same," she says dismissively.  "A little nastier than some, but they only do that test once a month, by my reckoning."  She walks over to the light-switch, and turns up the lighting.  After she does so, you hear the thudding footsteps of the brute approaching the light spilling through the doorway.

"What joy," Bjorn mutters.  "Apparently I got off really easy, then.  Do they test us every day, or can I hope for a little more calm before the storm?"

"Depends on what you can do," Megan says, eyes flickering to the duct over the door.  "Or how new you are.  If you're lucky, you got Dr. Richmond -- he's the nice one."

The glass-crafter and the brute appear in the doorway at the same time.  The glass-crafter seamlessly transfers herself to cling to Megan, looking up worriedly.  Megan absently ruffles the girl's hair, and looks up at the brute, somewhat surprised.  "How did you get here through the darkness, Mikey?"

Still staring absently at his bracelet, Bjorn offers, "Mikey was worried about you."  Bjorn shakes his head, and looks at the glasscrafter.  "I think I need to learn this sign language," he mutters, apropros of nothing.  "And my doctor was... Peterson?  Same guy as you, I think."

Megan smiles at Mikey warmly, and the brute acts like a huge, happy puppy, plopping himself down on the floor and leaning against a wal comfortably.  Megan slowly retrieves the lone chair, and sets it out for you before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Peterson is not exactly my favorite doctor."  She grimaces at that.

The glass-crafter climbs onto the bed and hugs Megan, peering at you curiously.  "This is Bridgett," Megan explains.  "And you've met Mikey, haven't you?"

"Yes, but not by name."  Bjorn grins, and then nods at Mikey, before sitting on the chair and crossing his legs.  "Hi, Mikey.  My name is Bjorn.  Please ta meetcha."

He grins at you even more widely.  "Mister Bey ... Be ... uh ... Mister B!" he finally concludes, nodding decisively.  "Mister B is real brave, 'cause he's not ascared of the dark at all," he informs Megan solemly.

Megan nods at that.  "I'll bet he is, Mikey."  Turning back to you, she adds, "What did they have you do?  You look like you came through relatively unscathed, at least."

"I'm not sure what they meant to do," Bjorn mutters darkly, "but what they did is have me pick up my bracelet.  That's the, uh, 'gift' I mentioned to you before.

"And now," he half-smiles, holding up his left hand, "it seems they can't take it away from me."

They all look at it curiously, though it seems to mean the least to Mikey, as he merely nods politely, then turns to study a poster on the wall.  It's a picture of some flowery meadow somewhere.  The glass-crafter stares at it like she's trying to weigh it by sight alone, and Megan actually starts to reach towards it.

The light coming off of it brightens when she does so, however, so he pulls her hand back, frowning.  "Some people need focuses," she offers.  "Something that can allow them to use an ability they may not otherwise understand.  Either that or...."

"Or it's the item itself," Bjorn finishes.  "Which I still think is most likely the case, because the bracelet doesn't mean anything to me.  It's not a lucky charm, or valuable, or anything -- it's just this thing that got mailed to me one day."

Then he grimaces.   "But then, what the he-- heck do I know about how this sort of thing works?"  He doesn't quite look guiltily at Bridgette.

"If it's the bracelet, then it means science aside, that magic exists," Megan poses, glancing at Brigett.  The little girl only raises an eyebrow at your near-utterance.  "At least, I think it does.  I kind of find that comforting."

Mikey looks between you attentively, though you get the feeling he's not really paying attention.  "Anyway, they turned out the sun, and I can't go to sleep yet."  Megan frowns.  "You wanted to learn the sigil hand-signs?"

"Yes," Bjorn says slowly.  "I think I'd also like to know why so many people here use them."

"Brigett learned it from her father," Megan says quietly.  "Ah, the sigil hand-signs aren't actually hand-signs for communication, that's just something else they happen to do well.  From what I know of the system, the hand-signs represent commands that they use with computers somewhere in the complex.  They use gloves, or something.  Apparently this language is pretty powerful, because they can use the motions to communicate.  I only know a little bit of it myself.  Brigett, say 'hello'."

Bridgett climbs off of the bed obediently, and holds out her hands in front of her.  "Now, to really enter the appropriate learning mode," Megan says, "you need to relax your mind, and allow the new information to enter."  Bridgett's fingers move, and she makes a gesture.Roll for INT check:
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Bjorn ... : 3d6 --> {7}Looking at it closely, it seems that the gestures are made from the signer's point of view.  Taking what Megan says into account, it's like she's treating you as an object in an interface, and then the hand-signs indicate what the signer would be doing with an actual virtual object (or code).  You're not sure exactly what the gesture indicates in the programming sense, but it looks like from Bridgett's perception that she just picked you up with her first two fingers and her thumb, and moved you closer to her.

Bjorn mimes the gesture, and then, extrapolating and experimenting, tries to say "How are you?" by taking the virtual object in his grip and turning it over, as if to examine it.

Bridgett nods at you, and makes another gesture, but this one is more complex.  You're not entirely certain, but you guess that the virtual 'desktop' is divided into different areas with different purposes.  If you're keeping track correctly, your icon has just been shifted to her right, and she runs her hand over the top of it in a flat line.

"So, just relax," Megan says.  "That's, um, 'inspection', I think, which pretty much means 'how are you' when you use it on a person."

Too busy focussing on Bridgett's hands to acknowledge Megan, Bjorn again mimics Bridgett's movements.

Bridgett pauses, as though considering something, and nods slowly.  She then makes a gesture in another area (up, and to her right), as though she were tapping a different icon.  Then, she indicates another three icons across the desktop and to her left.  After that, she mimics typing.

"Oh," Megan says in dissapointment.  "That's 'specific query', but I could never follow the typing."

"Wonderful," Bjorn grimaces.  

He does his best to repeat Bridgett's gestures, but when it comes to type, he taps out, "How do you say, 'I'm fine'?"

Bridgett makes a gesture taking an icon (from the foreground of the desktop), presses it with a palm directly towards you, and then moves it to one side un a sort of a curved line that dips down, then returns to the same level on the left.

"That means 'job finished'," Megan supplies.

Again, Bjorn mimics the gesture as best he can.

Bridgett seems to think you're getting the hang of it, though it seems likely that you could learn more easily if you had access to the system that used these signs, so you could see them in use.  On the other hand, if you manage to get ahold of one of those systems, you'd probably already know a little bit about using it.

Bridgett keeps showing you different handsigns throughout the night, though you have a harder time understanding when she 'types' than she apparently has understanding you.  After a while, the lights outside the room come on, and Mikey quiety excuses himself.

Bridget frowns, and makes a gesture that taps an icon you've come to accept as the 'modifier', and then waves.  "That means she's sleepy," Megan surmises.  "I'm a bit sleepy, too.  Bridgett nods, then yawns."

After that she signs (if you're reading it correctly):  "Be encrypted" at you.

Bjorn signs "Be encrypted" back at Bridgett, and then stretches.  "'m a bit tired myself, so I'll leave you to your sleep."  With a start and sudden rememberance, he looks over at Mikey.  "Hrm.  What about Mikey?"

"He left when the lights came on," Megan says, as Bridgett climbs onto the bed, curls up, and goes to sleep.  "I really wish they'd let us have clocks."

Bjorn blinks, and looks at the door.  "The lights came back on?  I didn't even notice.

"Hrm.  Well, let's hope a nap a day keeps the doctor away."  Bjorn half-grins, and then waves to both Megan and Bridgett as he heads out the door and back towards his own room.

You head is buzzing with all that learning.  The lights are up, and it's 'day' in the playroom again.  Another doctor is leading the handsigner that Dr. Peterson hauled off yesterday back into the room as you enter.

Bjorn studies the doctor carefully as he heads down his hallway to his room.

He's got shaggy, sandy blonde hair, and looks tired.  He's wearing the same kind of slacks and overcoat, but he's got sneakers on.  Considering that everyone else is barefoot, though....

Mikey is currently talking with the old man from yesterday, nearish to the fountain.

Bjorn waves at Mikey and says "hi" on his way past.  Too tired to initiate a conversation, he mainly wants to get back to his bed.

Well, he mainly wants to get out of here, but sleep is probably easier and faster to obtain.

Mikey waves to you and says, "Hi, Mister B!" on your way to your room.  No one else seems to really look up, until you get back.  Some more clothes have been added -- thrown onto your bed -- while you were out.  You've now got three jumpsuits, and they apparently expect you're okay with boxers.

Your tea appears to be untouched.

Bjorn takes the tea, and steps outside his cell to drink it (it's better cold, really!), studying the area thoughtfully.  When he's done, he palms the little figurine as inconspicuously as he can, returns to his cell, and grabs the extra clothing off the bed.  He then deposits the new clothing in the dresser (the figurine underneath his extra jumpsuits), and then collapses on the bed, drifting off to sleep as fast as he is able.

You hit the bed, and you're out like a light, figurine safely (one hopes) stowed away.

You wake up to a knock at the door,  Whoever it is that's knocking is polite enough not to just barge in, at least.  Either you turned the lights into night mode, or they turned themselves that way once enough time passed.  A single light glows from the washroom, always on, and it provides scarce illumination through the curtain drawn over the doorway.

Rolling to his feet, Bjorn takes quick inventory of his current state of tiredness (minus aldrenaline rush from sudden awaking), and then goes to answer the door, by expedient of opening it and saying, "Hello?"  After all,  the people I don't want to talk to can force their way in, and I think being rumpled is accepetable all things considered.  Thank God for not having to shave.

OOC: Post from BEYOND THE BROADBAND!

It's either still 'day' in the playroom, or it's 'day' again.  It's hard to track time in this place.  You're momentarily blinded when you open the door, but quickly make out the shapes of yet another doctor, and two guards.  This doctor looks tired, and annoyed, but says, "Hello," back to you, glancing briefly at a PDA held in his hand.  "How are you feeling today, Mr. Christianson?"

"I'm feeling like I probably need a shower," Bjorn replies drily.  "And how are you today, Doctor...?"

"Richmond," he says, nodding at you.  "Peter Richmond.  If you're feeling up to it, we'd like to give you a physical, and maybe run through some T and B series tests....  But if you want a shower, I can come back in an hour."

Richmod... that's the one Megan said wasn't as bad, right?

Shrugging, Bjorn replies, "Even odds says I'll want a shower after your tests, if this is anything like yesterday.  'T' tests are for telepathy, I assume.... 'B' tests are, what, physical mutations?"

As he's speaking, he runs his fingers through his hair to straighten it as best as he's able (which is not at all -- all he manages to do is flatten out the bits that aren't cowlicks, making him look even more wild), and stepping out the door to join the doctor on the walkway outside.

"Eh?  Not mutations, that'd be covered under the physical.  B series is to test you for..." he pauses, and checks his PDA.  "'Abnormally high reaction speed or reflexes'," he quotes.  Looking back at you, he assures, "Nothing dangerous, of course."  He takes a few steps back, then motions for you to follow him.  The guards continue to eye you uneasily, though.

Bjorn follows after the doctor, striding easily, ignoring the guards.   "Do you mind if I ask exactly what the test is going to entail?"

"T-series, for starters?  Cards, the shell game, and a few surprises for you.  B-series ... well, are you a fan of ping-pong?"  The guards follow you with a quick gait, following the same proceedure as ... yesterday? ... once you clear the door and security station.

"No," replies Bjorn, quite succintly.

The guards are really nervous.  Why?  Is it just because of the Ashnod thing, or...?  Hm.

Mental note: ask Megan about this place's defenses.

"Pity," Richmond repilies, consulting his PDA.  "Well, anyway, if B series doesn't get any results you're scheduled for M series with Dr. Peterson tomorrow."

"'M' series is... matter manipulation?  How does the classification scheme work, anyways?"  For at least a minute or two, curiousity allows Bjorn to forget his current predicament.

"Dr. Peterson came up with the naming scheme," Dr. Richmond says, almost apologetically.  "When we were new, we all put out suggestions in a hat.  He won.  Anyway, M is mental defense, B is bio.  It's relatively intuitive -- your number will indicate your relative strength in the area."

"Well, simple nomenclature is the best, really."  Bjorn cocks a head, thoughtfully.  "You know, I have a thought that M testing might not be very pleasant, per se."

"I'm told it's fine for people who have it," he replies somewhat dourly.  When you reach the lab where Peterson paused to discuss with another doctor, Richmond heads immediately left.  This time, you see another new window.  This one seems to be filled with all sorts of ... raw materials, you assume.  Metals, woods, stone, a tub of water.  More specifically, glass, as Bridgett is currently staring at a pile of it.

Dr. Peterson is standing next to her, and she's sitting at a very low table, looking between a pile of glass, and what looks like a Cabbage Patch kid.  At a guess, you think Peterson is trying to get her to make the pile of glass into a reasonable facimile of the doll, but all she's doing is making a ball, and ignoring his hand-signs.

Bjorn spends the time it takes to walk by the window trying to convince the bracelet to set Peterson on fire.

Trying to make the bracelet do something does have an effect, though you're uncertain what the practicality of it is.  Now, as it wouldn't yesterday, it begins to glow, very softly.

The first of the guards behind you doesn't notice, but the second does, whistling softly, and pulling one of those boxy little guns from his belt and pointing it at you.  Either Dr. Peterson is unaware, or simply doesn't care, as he doesn't look up from Bridgett.  Dr. Richmond turns around from where he was leading you and pauses, frowning.

"Mmm?"  Bjorn blinks at Richmond.  "Are we there?"

Goddamn stupid bracelet listening to me at the wrong goddamn moments.  And I wanted fire, not light.  Maybe if I think about nuclear explosions I can light a cigarette.

The light on the bracelet winks out instantly.  Also, Peterson looks up in time to miss it, not care, and turn his attention back to Bridgett.  Though, you see that this is because she is giving the good doctor a hand-sign you recognize from driving the streets of L.A.  He seems less than amused.

"Well, anyway," Dr. Richmond says, shaking his head, "I'll pre-empt Dr. Peterson's M-series tests for tomorrow with some C-series tests."  He then looks at the guards quizically, as though there were no reason for them to have their guns drawn.  They slowly re-holster them, though they still don't seem to trust them.  Unless you miss your guess, they are the same guards from yesterday.  "This way, please."

Dr. Richmond again turns around, and begins walking to the next door down from the 'C-series' test chamber.

"'C'?"  Bjorn chews his tongue, thinking.  "I think yesterday that Dr. Peterson said something to the effect of me being a C-3 or such.  What does the C stand for?  Conversion?"

"That's right," Dr. Richmond says, nodding.  "Material conversion.  Usually matter into another form of matter, or a different material state of the same matter.  That girl you saw in there, for example, can alter glass, from what we can see, to melt at room temperature, and then mold it."  He leads you to the next room down, which is lit up, and has an opened door.

Nodding, Bjorn follows the doctor in, and examines his surroundings.

The interior is reassuring, compared to the 'D' test chamber.  There's the familiar booth with a divider for person sitting on each side, the stack of cards ... this is comfortingly cliche compared to some things you've seen around.  There's also a number of unopened boxes of various material, contents unknown.  Dr. Richmond takes a seat on one side of the table, and motions you to take the other.

Bjorn does so, glancing down at the bracelet as if for answers or reassurance -- or perhaps figuring how if he can loose enough weight to get the damn thing off.

This doesn't look so bad.  As long as we keep to the card-reading and other non-hurting things, we'll see how much favour I can curry...

This test is a lot more boring than you had expected.  Dr. Richmond holds up cards, one at a time, and asks you to guess what he's holding up.  He doesn't mention your score, until it's all over, and then he offers you the deck of cards, and tries to guess what you're looking at.

Judging by his pensive expression once that's over, you didn't do so well.  You know for a fact, however, that he sucks at reading your mind.

"Well," he says thoughtfully.  "We'll forgo the rest of the tests," he sighs.  "Um, the B lab is being cleaned, so, let's proceed to the medical examination."

"Whatever you say.  Do we get to switch places on this one, too?"

Again, as long as nothing seems too wrong, Bjorn cooperates with the doctor.

The doctor actually laughs at that, and says, "Only if you behave.  I won't patronize you with a stick of chewing gum, at least."

The next room, this one symetrically opposed to the 'Ezmereth' room, if you remember correctly, is almost identical, save it's completely intact.  The placcard on this one reads, 'Victor', and you find the doctor, and both guards seeming to unconsciously edge away from it.  You feel no compulsion to do so yourself, however, which appears to aggravate the guards.

The medical examination room is the next one over.

Having armed guards watching you at the, "Turn your head and cough," segment of the proceedure is more than a little awkward.  Also, your bracelet seems to want to tangle in the cuff they use for checking your blood pressure, until Dr. Richmond just moves it to your right arm.  Looking at the bracelet, you wonder if it's actually possible to remove, short of severing the hand, or learning to dislocate your thumb.  It doesn't seem like it, right now.

It seems content to not glow anymore, however.

"You seem in good health," Dr. Richmond decides, once it's over.  "Are you ready for the bio-testing?"

"I suppose I am," Bjorn shrugs.  "If I can remember the rules for ping pong, anyways."

Once again, he cooperates, so far as it seems safe.  I suppose at least I'm learning something of what I can do... even if it's all negative so far.

This room contains a half of a ping-pong table, and what looks like a tiny ping-pong ball gun.  Dr. Peterson asks you to put on a bracelet on your right wrist to monitor your heartbeat, and then checks your reflexes on trying to hit a ball back across the room after it's launched.  He seems pleased with the result, but says it's not supernatural.

Apparently, you've got good reflexes.  The test for superhuman strength is less than spectacular, since, as far as you can tell, the 'one ton' and '300 kilo' weights don't plan on moving any time soon.  After that, trying to juggle.

Then, the treadmill, for endurance.  The results check out, and you're apparently not very superhuman in this regard.

After it's over, you're a bit tired, as you haven't eaten in ... a few days? A while, anyway ... and you know you could really use a shower.  Dr. Richmond seems to agree, and you're escorted back to the playroom.  Megan is already back there, assembling a small glass snowman.  Mikey is currently speaking with the old man again.  The woman with the radio has assembled the pieces into something ... else.  What, is questionable, but it looks more like art than anything functional.  Jonas is aparently sleeping near his flower, head resting on his folded arms.

Megan isn't immediately in sight, but you do catch the trio of signers.

And about the time the doors close behind you, the cafeteria bell rings.

Well.  In the choice between food and hygiene, given the food, I'll choose hygiene.

Bjorn makes his way quickly back to his apartment, with the intention of taking a fast, scrub-and-a-promise shower, and changing into a clean jumpsuit, and, with luck, getting back to the cafeteria in time.

In the shower, though, he again studies the bracelet contemplatively as he lathers.  Hm.  Got some sort of reaction when I was thinking about setting Peterson on fire.  I wonder... is fire the key?

Thinking of fire reminds you briefly of the encounter with Ashnod on the highway outside of Totonto.  That causes the bracelet to begin glowing gently again, though it doesn't seem to be doing anything but glowing.  At least the shower is reasonably warm.

Now actually taking time to survey the washroom, you notice something you missed before -- the mirror on the wall facing the shower (which is also the same wall the washroom shares with the main room).  It sticks out a bit, but isn't actually a medicine cabinet.  The sink is beneath that, oriented correctly to face the mirror, and tiles line the floor.  Though, some of the tiles look a little beaten up.

Regardless, someone left an empty styrofoam cup and various toiletries (tooth brush, paste, floss, electric razor) on the back of the sink, beneath the mirror.

Bjorn goes out to his dresser, grabs one of his spare jumpsuits, brings it back into the bathroom, hangs it over the mirror, brushes his teeth, quickly scrapes his face (one of the joys of having limited facial hair is not needing to bother with shaving cream), and then heads back out towards the cafeteria -- after having gotten dressed in a clean jumpsuit, of course.

The ledge atop the mirror isn't well suited to hanging things from, and your jumpsuit slips to the floor twice before you get it to stick properly.  It also doesn't completely cover the mirror, but if there's a camera behind it, there's a good chance it's obscured now.Perception check:
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Bjorn ... : 3d6 -->{10}

While you retrieved the jumpsuit the second time, you notice once of those beat-up tiles on the floor is cracked, and doesn't quite seem to have any grout sealing it to the side of the wall.  It's about 9 cm wide, and 11 high.

Bjorn hesitates.  Goddamnit, I'm really hungry, but... damnit.  Okay.

With that, he gets down, and pokes at the tile, trying to see if he can pull it loose.

The tile isn't even held in, once you slide it upwards.

Hey, someone put a little secret compartment in here!  It's wider and deeper inside, and you probably don't want to think about how they smashed out the concrete, but there it is.  And if there is a camera in the mirror, it's below it, too.

Not a bad place for a hidden compartment, all told.  A bit small, though.

Bjorn ponders for a second.  Then he goes back out to the bedroom and roots around in the dresser to grab a clean pair of underwear, which he wraps around the figurine and takes back into the bathroom.  Then he puts the figurine in the secret compartment, closes it up, changes underwear, rips a hole in the crotch of the old pair, and then heads towards the door of his apartment again, tossing the ruined underwear on the bed.

Okay.  Now I can go eat.

Hole in the crotch.  That'll make 'em come up with a whole new spectrum of 'bio' tests....  Maybe not.

When you get to the cafeteria, it's with a woeful sense of deja vu.  The menu is almost identical ... but this time they have some relatively innofensive looking scalloped potatoes, and pieces of (apparently) unprocessed chicken.

I hate potatoes. Mental whine finished with, Bjorn takes the chicken and the potatoes, and looks around to see who else is in the cafeteria.

It tastes edible, which is probably about the best compliment you could give the cook.  Or maybe, "It doesn't bounce as well as most basketballs."

The signers are here, though on their way out.  There's only two other people all told, one of which is the woman who was tinkering with radio parts.  The other is a moody looking fellow with short, greasy hair, and a sallow complexion.

Okay.  Socializing sucks at the best of times, and eating this crap is farthest from.

With that, Bjorn sets his mind on cleaning up his plate as fast as he can manage, and then heading back out to the Playground.

You're hungry enough it doesn't take too long.  Once finished, you find that the playground is about half full.  Megan and Bridgette are at the spots where you met them originally, Megan still brooding into the river, Bridgett eyeing her crude glass snowman dubiously.

Mikey and Lazarus are still talking, though the conversation appears to (still) be Mikey talking, and the old man just listening.

Bjorn does his best to catch Bridgett's eye, and (if he succeeds) then does his best to sign, "Good job," if he remembers how.  Failing that, though, he moves to take up the same place he was in last time (yesterday?), squatting by the base of the bridge, facing Megan, waiting patiently to attract her attention, thinking in run-on sentences.

Bridgett nods at you, and offers a small smile.  It takes Megan a while to notice you, however.  She shakes her head as though she had dozed off.  "Sorry," she says apologetically.  "How are you doing today?"

"All right, so far."  Bjorn looks around, studying the position of the guards, and looking for cameras or any obvious surveillance equipment.  "What about yourself?  Are you feeling better today?"

"Tired," she says.  "I had to do P-testing, and that's always almost pointless."  She shrugs.  "What does seeing myself gone, and my vision living on mean, anyway?  It's not like I can..." she trails off, and shrugs.  "I just try and relax.  Think that it's okay, and I'm safe here."

"On that note," Bjorn says quietly, moving his lips as little as he can, "what do they have here in the way of defenses?"

"What was that?" she asks sleepily.  Less ... than your ... mind.  Can you ... relax a little?

Okay.  Relax, let down the guard, reach out to Megan... "I said, does the food ever get any better around here?"  Goddamn, that was lame.  No, damnit, focus, relax, reach out to Megan...

Your bracelet doesn't react, as far as you can tell, but Megan's mental voice comes much clearer to you. How do you mean?

What keeps people from escaping?  I mean, other than the obvious -- the guards, and the tranquilizers, and so on.  But I have the feeling that there's a few people in here that wouldn't be easily stopped.   If you want to break out, what do you have to go through?

There's four areas like this one, she explains quickly.  "Not that I've noticed, except for breakfasts, and the Sunday dinners," she says more slowly, as though thinking about it.  This is the place where they put people who aren't entirely willing to be here.  You saw the doors in the corridors?

The image comes back to your mind of the bulkheads you saw when you were taken to the chamber where you retrieved your bracelet.

Well, that's where we are.  Section two is for people who were normal, but volunteered to try and get ... changed.  Section three is people who are like us, or were from section two, but want to work for the Workshop anyway.  I don't know what section one is.

And yes, some people actually do volunteer ... and they are trying to figure out how to give the abilities of what we do to other people.

"Breakfast is good?  For that, I should try to get on whatever the sleep schedule is here."  Has anyone ever managed to break out?

...yes, she thinks, but you feel the hesitance in the reply.  She nods to you.  "The sleep schedule's a bit weird.  Keeping us from knowing what time it is maybe excites our abilities, or something.  I don't really understand it."

Ezmereth escaped.  And I think ... Victor would have, if the situation had played out differently.  Someone ... I don't honesly know who, but someone broke in from above ground.  Since we've got no way to keep track of time, really....  Anyway.  He smashed straight through the earth, all the way down to Ezmereth's room.  Ezmereth escaped, and whoever it was was fighting past loyal metas to try and get to Victor.

One of the metas here finally did something to the attacker's mind ... said he was male, and then her mind snapped, and she started screaming that 'he took it from me!' over or over.  She was moved into this section for a while.  After she calmed down she was taken back to section three.

Ashnod didn't actually escape....  I ... snuck into some of the doctor's minds while they were testing me.  I do it, sometimes.  And I found out that he was released to try and lure someone out.  I guess the one responsible for releasing Ezmereth.  Victor was too powerful to be let loose.

As far as getting out, you'd have to get past ... the guards.  There's four here, at all times.  Two outside the door, which can only be opened from outside -- though I think if you get up to the walkway ... I'm not sure where that exit leads.

The main corridor floods with a gas that'll knock you out if you try brute force.

Once you get past that, if you can handle the guards, at that point, the loyal metas from section three will probably show up.  I know they've got at least ten, though I don't know what abilities they all have.  If you can get past them, then it's just the datapod.  After the datapod, it's a normal building, and the emergency exits will lead outside....  You also sense a trace of guilt from her thoughts as she relays that information to you.

Why do you feel guilty? thinks Bjorn, too unused to telepathy to strive for subtlety.

To himself (he hopes), he goes over what he's been told, his mind whirling.  Now, though, he knows why the guards are worried about him -- because he might very well be immune to the last line of defense.

Now all I need to do is figure out how to become bullet-proof, gas-proof, and how to blow through reinforced walls, and I'm set.

Megan yawns expansively, though the guilt in her thoughts only deepens.  I only know because I used to be in section three.

I see.  For what it's worth, if they'd been even a little more clever, I'd be in section three, too.

"Tired?  What's involved in the P tests, anyways?"

"Precog," she says with a shrug.  "Try and guess what happens, and be right.  Looking ahead just wears me out."

...thanks.  Are you planning on trying to escape?  You get a fleeting image of you slipping past guards, carrying Bridgett on your back from Megan.

"That's right," says Bjorn slowly.  "You said you could... see things?"

I'm going to try.  I don't know how.  It would help if I had some idea what I could do, but I will not stay here.

"A little, sometimes," she admits.  You're trouble, and you're going to be in trouble ... but I think you've got a chance.  Most of the people here can't be brought into discussions on escaping.  They ... the section three metas sweep minds every once in a while.  She sighs.  "I wish I could see something meaninful, but it's all going blurry for me these days."

I'm better than most, and I can still only read you when you relax.  You can't be read ... and neither can I.  Bridgett doesn't know.  That's the hard part about organizing it.  All of us together could probably fight our way out of here pretty easily.  Maybe even half of us could.  But they'll know it's coming ... and the last thing you want is them to put you in solitary.  Sensory deprivation does bad things to some people ... especially like us.  Mikey ... used to be a lot smarter.  He's retreated into himself over that.

The merest fraction of a smile enters her thoughts, though it doesn't touch her lips.  And that small part inside of himself is hidden from them, too.  It's with us, but won't come out until we're ready.

Bjorn chews his tongue.  "The other day, didn't you say you saw something about me?  Can you tell me what, or is that prying?"

Thanks... I think.  Hm.  Peterson was supposed to have me tomorrow for M tests.  That's mental defenses, right?  If Richmond doesn't get his way, I might have to run the risk of punishment and do something stupid to get Peterson from running tests on me.  If they find out I'm hard to read, it might get that much harder to plan things.

Mikey... can you tell me more about him?

"I....  I saw you with a broken sword," she admits.  "Whatever that means."  I saw you with an invisible weapon, fighting against a guard.  As far as Peterson goes, I know something's going to happen to him soon.  I don't know what it means, but I see an image of him, and ... symbols of gambling.  But all of them are broken.  I hope it means his luck runs out.

They probably already suspect you've got some kind of mental defence, and it doesn't always get you put in solitary.  You can ... we don't have time, though.  I can teach you how to let someone read only what you want them to see.  But it's going to take more time then we have, I think.  You'll be classed M, but if you let one of their people read you, they'll decide it's a low enough class that you're not a huge risk.

As far as Mikey goes, he's a TK.  As strong as he is with just his muscles, his telekinesis is probably a dozen times stronger.  He can't move things at range, but he....  You see an image of a much angrier Mikey slamming his fists into the dropped bulkhead behind the security door, until the bulkhead buckles and gives way.  He would be 'dangerous', but after ... I don't know how much time, because of how they run things.  After a while, though, they let him come back, and he was like that, instead of the person he used to be.

"It means," Bjorn mutters sourly, "that it's been too long since I practice my martial arts, and my teacher is going to kick my ass."

They gave him his fear of the dark to put an additional control on him. It's not quite a question.  Alright, then.  That solves one of the problems -- maybe two, in fact.  The real question, for now, is what I can do.  Maybe the doctors can answer that for me, but I think it might be better if I could figure it out on my own.

A little mental hesitation, then, Is there any way you can help me with that?  Either directly, or telling me some place or somehow I can practice without being watched?

A place we aren't watched?  They have cameras behind the mirrors in the bathrooms.  And while they encourage ... 'romantic' interludes between patients, they don't provide privacy.  All I can really say is that a hot shower fogs up the mirror.  And, ah, you're kind of going to be on your own while showering, though....  She smiles at you, and shakes her head.  "Your teacher doesn't sound very friendly."

Lazarus might be able to help you.  He can make a link with minds ... if he can make a connection to you, and then me, I won't need to be in the room with you, which might lessen suspicion anyway.  You can shower, and try something there, and we'll try and figure out what you do, or what controls it.

The bathroom mirror I took care of already.  Just hung a jumpsuit over the mirror.  The rest of the plan sounds good, though... could you 'talk' to Lazarus for me?  Telepathy is probably a bit safer than asking out loud, still.

Bjorn smiles back.  "He was a great guy.  He just had very... direct opinions about the importance of practice."

Okay.  But first, I think we should teach you what we can of only showing people what you want from your mind.  "I'll believe it when I see it," she says somewhat dourly.

Gah.  Waiting.  I hate being patient.  But you probably have a point.  Can we do that here, or...?

Out loud, Bjorn simply snorts, and starts rooting around in the lawn for pebbles to toss into the fountain -- not really expecting to find any, of course.

It's good for you.  Your chances of a break-out attempt decrease the longer you stay here, she sends.  At least, statistically.

You don't find any pebbles, just clods of dirt.  When you look at the fountain, you see that it's probably about a meter deep, and four meters across, rougly.  There's a wide grate at the bottom, at the base of the cement foundation that holds the pipes above the water level.  The jets go a good meter and a half into the air.  The grate looks to be about a half meter per side, and is held down with four huge bolts.

Assuming you aren't doing anything else at the moment, however, Megan begins instructing you in the fine art of arranging your thoughts so that people who can't read through your defenses only see what you want them to see.

Bjorn pays attention first and foremost to Megan's teachings, but he also studies the fountain thoroughly.  What exactly is the jet mechanism?  What's the grate made of?  Are there any bubbles rising from the grate?

The crate looks like it's just steel, or some rustproof equilvelant.  There are occasional air bubbles rising from it, but not many.  You suspect it's the intake for the fountain, but it's too dark to see very far into.

Then again, the edge of the fountain splashes into the river, which then arcs around and into another pool, and you'd expect a drain to be put there.

When Megan is done explaining, Bjorn asks her, Do you know anything about how this fountain is hooked up?  It's strange... there's an outlet for the water, but it's huge, almost a storm drain, which doesn't make any sense.  If this was just a closed-loop pump system, all they'd need would be a relatively small pump....

The fountain?  Not really, I never thought it was special ... they have one almost just like it in sections two and three.

Damn.  I wish we had a way to find out -- it might be a lot easier than going out the front door.

Hm.  Could you let me know when you've set things up with Lazarus?  I'm going to talk to Mikey, I think.

A way out ... that would be nice.  I'll talk with Lazarus a bit, but I'm drained, and talking to you through your defenses is even more tiring ... keep practicing the trick I showed you to keep the thoughts you'll let them read on the outer edges of your mind.  I'm going to rest up ... I think we've got some big days coming up, soon.  Megan yawns expansively, ruffles Bridgett's hair in passing, and strides off towards her room.  "Night," she says aloud.

"Good night," Bjorn says, politely standing.  After Megan is on his way, he makes his way over towards Mikey.  If Mikey is still talking with Lazarus, then he'll wait off to the side for a bit; otherwise, he'll say hi and talk a bit.

Mikey brightens the second he sees you, and breaks off his discussion with the old man.  "Mister B!" he says happily.  "How are you doin' today?"

"I'm doing pretty well, Mikey.  Especially now that I know I'm in no risk of reading other people's minds."  Bjorn grins wryly.  "What about yourself?"

As he's talking to Mikey, he's surreptiously studying Lazarus, trying to get an impression of the sort of person he is.  I suppose the fact that he seems to be very patient with Mikey speaks well of him, though.

Now that you're closer, Lazarus looks pretty fit for an old man.  He looks like a healthy middle-aged man with completely white hair, really.

He has an easy smile, moves with very slow, cautious deliberation, and has eyes that look sleepy.  And yet....

Something about him tells you that he'd be easier to underestimate than would probably be wise.

"Old Man Lazarus is telling me a story about Jonah and the Big Fishie," Mikey says, nodding to the old man.  "He says that Jonah lived inside the Big Fishie for a long time."

"Oh?"  Bjorn looks over at Lazarus, and extends a hand.  "Don't think we've met.  My name's Bjorn.  Pleased to meet you."

The man takes your hand and offers you a firm shake -- he's stronger than you'd expect, probably almost as strong as you.  He then nods at Mikey, and makes a series of gestures, not like the hand-signs, but just the motions a story-teller would make while telling a story.

Mikey nods, and translates for you, "Old Man Lazarus says that you've got a thick skull, 'cause he can't get through to you too easy, but he says hi, and his name is Lazarus.  But I call him Old Man Lazarus."

Well.  I'm supposed to practice, and I guess this is what we got here.  Using what Megan has just taught him, Bjorn tries to expose the outer edges of his mind, on which he writes, Is this better?

Lazarus nods, and you hear, exactly as you imagine, a quiet mental voice on what you now consider the periphery of your mind. You're learning, he sends.  Always, this is positive.

Mikey's thoughts come across the connection, too, more boisterous and quickly paced than his own speech.  Is Mister B going to talk to big brother, Old Man Lazarus?

While he "hears" the voices of others, it's easier for Bjorn to manage Megan's trick if he thinks of the outside of his (apparent) defenses as a blackboard.  So he wipes the last sentence off, and then quickly scrawls, Big brother?  Who's that?

Perhaps its the alienness off the way that anothers' thoughts entering your mind that actually causes it to ... feel? ... like a voice instead of another mind.  You find, though, keeping what Megan said in mind that you can force the mental visualizations to come across however you wish to interpet them.

Now, the old man's thoughts are coming across as the crisp, neatly written formulae of a learned professor, while Mikey's thoughts are as if a child had taken his chalk to the sidewalk, and then attempted to transfer it to a slate.

Michael has an older brother, Lazarus replies crypically.  I think Megan suggested as to more of that.  He leaves it at that, everything else unsaid.

Big brother says that some day, we're going to go outside and play, but I can't remember until it's time to go, or the doctors will put me in the dark again.  I'm scared of the dark.  Mikey's thoughts are without the childish lisp of his speaking voice.

I see.  Well, I don't, really, but that's probably for the better, all things told.

On another note... I was going to get Megan to ask you this, but might as well ask you myself, now.  I want to figure out something of what I'm actually capable of.  Megan suggested you could set up a mind-link between the two of us, so that she can offer some help.  Would you mind?

Puzzles within puzzles ... certainly, I have no objection to this.  I find it fascinating ... and perhaps, of course, it will even further our eventual goal.

Lazarus nods at Mikey, who starts, and then says, "Jonah and the Big Fishie had all sorts of adventures, too."

Is it like a game? Mikey's mental scrawl asks.  Beneath it, more subdued, you get a crudely drawn image of a fist with a thumb up, surrounded with a corona like a sun, or a comic-book character's action.

It's a bit like a guessing game, actually.  Try to guess what I can do, try to guess how I can do it.

Thanks, Lazarus.  I don't know when we'll get a chance to try this.  Megan's feeling a bit tired, I gather.

Outside his head, Bjorn smiles faintly and listens to Lazarus' story.

An adaptation of Jonah and the whale.  You suspect, after listening for a while, that the subtle messages Lazarus weaves into the mental imagery (the whale's stomach is particularly 'playroom' like, for example), that it's meant to prepare Mikey for an eventuality that might involve combat versus the guards.

Or at least knowing a good place to be, should it break into combat.

And Lazarus seems to have thought the tactics through pretty well.  There's very few places in the playroom that provide cover from the balcony, and its four armed guards.  The ones that do would be in the fountain, or beneath the tables -- though that last is iffy.

Ah, yes, Bjorn thinks behind the chalkboard.  The 'bullet-proof' part of the problem.  But speaking of the fountain...

Wiping his mental slate clean, again, he asks Lazarus, Do you know anything about the drain in the fountain?

The drain? Lazarus seems confused, until you send him an image of the grate, and the bolts.  I had never considered it ... perhaps it leads somewhere?  If only we had a way to investigate without being seen....  Curious.

That's more or less what I thought, Bjorn "writes" sourly.  In the worst case scenario, at least, I suppose it will provide some cover.

Still listening to Lazarus' story, Bjorn looks around the room, ostensibly at the other inmates, but also studying the behaviours of the guards.

Hidden within references to the whale's heartbeat, you actually start to pick out the behavior of them.  They're evenly spaced, and walk around the perimeter of the room.  Up at the balcony level, you can make out four smaller doors.  Two of them lead somewhere above the main entrance, and the other two are over the cafeteria door.

Every few minutes -- with the regularity of a heartbeat -- they pause, survey the room, watch for ... something, then resume.  They're S.W.A.T. armored, faceplates down, but once in a while one will reach up to his shoulder and fiddle with something.  It's hard to say what without making it obvious you're looking, but you would guess it's from their walkie-talkies.

Each is carrying a rifle, similar (you think) to the one you saw in the snow back outside of Toronto.

Lazarus's story suggests, that the pattern of the guards changes at 'night', however.  You suspect it doesn't vary much, though.

Hm.  What are they watching for?

Still making it seem as if he's "listening" to Lazarus (and he is, with half an mental ear, as well as watching Mikey's reaction to this whole deal), Bjorn studies the guards, trying to figure out if there's something they look for or at during those pauses.

Perception check:
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Faceless ... : 3d6 --> {14}
The guards' faces are hid behinds their masks ... they could be staring blankly directly across the room for all you can read them.

Dammit.

Bjorn listens to Lazarus for a little longer, trying to determine if there's yet more to learn from his story.  If not, he bids his goodbyes, and heads back towards his "apartment."

Externally, Mikey just seems to find the story of Jonah and the "Big Fishie" fascinating.  Internally, you get the impression that he's absorbing the hidden meanings of it, without leaving them where a random psychic could pick them up ... but you get that inference from 'listening' to Lazarus.  He's pretty good at hiding thoughts in other thoughts....

It really does seem that the story is just to keep impressing Mikey with a good tactical sense of the area they know.  If it's to serve anything else, it's just to entertain Mikey.  'Seeing' the story writ in large across the blackboard of your mind is somewhat interesting.

Supposed to practice my mental discipline, anyways.

Bjorn settles in for the remainder of the story -- though he continues to watch both the guards and the other "inmates" for anything unusual or interesting.

Most of the innmates are at least a LITTLE odd.  The signers, for example.  The one who was hauled off the first time you were in the cafeteria is visible, though the other two in his group are keeping a distance away from him, for some reason.

The signs you catch are difficult to decipher from your angle, and they're much faster than Bridgett was, too.

Mmph.  If I was trying to keep a bunch of troublemakers locked up and out of trouble.  I'd try to provide them with distractions.  So, we've got the apartments (bare), the cafeteria (shitty an dlimited hours), and the Playground.  Doesn't seem enough....

Bjorn is getting quite bored, and looks around for anything that might have been provided in that regard.

All you can find is a deck of cards, but they're the same kind that you were looking at for the t-series tests.  While you're hunting around for entertainment, the 'sun' sets.

Mikey quickly retreats to his lighted corridor, followed eventually by Lazarus.  As you watch, the bulbs dim, one by one, until the 'sunlight' fades, and the 'moon' lights up.  The stars follow shortly.

Quite a few people take this as a sign to turn in for the day, and a few more wake up and emerge from their corridors.

Glacing up for a moment to spot the difference in night-time routine Lazarus mentioned, Bjorn heads over the lighted corridor.  "I think I'm about to head to bed," he says aloud.  "Are you going to be okay, Mikey?"

He nods.  "Old Man Lazarus is telling me about the turtle that carries the world on its back.  He knows lotsa stories!"

"That's a good story," Bjorn nods, refraining from asking any questions about elephants, since Lazarus probably has a point to the story.  "Anyways, good night."

On his mental chalkboard, though, he scribbles out, I'm going to my room, but not to sleep.  If Megan wakes up and wants to start, please let me know.

And with that, he heads off to his room -- again, watching the guards.

Lazarus nods slightly.  You're not sure if it was at you or Mikey, though.  After that, you make it to your room, where your dirty laundry remains.

Taking off his clothes (Maybe that'll drive any peeping toms blind), Bjorn steps into the bathroom.  After making sure his impromptu mirror-curtain is still in place, he turns on the shower, and then sits down on the toilet.

Okay.  I've got to focus on how to escape, and how to use my bracelet.   For both, I need focus of mind.  Guess it's time to start getting serious about my meditation....

And with that, Bjorn half-lids his eyes, and begins breathing on sevens, settling his ki into his tanden as he was taught.  As he gets deeper, he begins, tentatively, to imagine pushing the ki into and through the bracelet, as if it were part of himself.

Bjorn: Trying to treat the bracelet as an extension of yourself is an interesting exercise, but doesn't seem to make the bracelet do anything right away.

You lose track of time ... which is easy in this place, but make no real headway.

Shade:  You wake up in a bed in a room furnished with a bed, a dresser, and a basket full of stuffed animals and sock-puppets.  There's a bathroom (with a door, AND a curtain, for some reason) and another door leading elsewhere.  There's a wall-switch for the lights, and no visible windows anywhere.

Death checks himself over, then goes to the bathroom to use the facilities.

"Its always something, isn't it."

After that, Death decides to go through the drawers and investigate the sock puppets to see what kind of material they're made of.

Yarn and felt, with button eyes.  There sure are a lot of them in your room....

Your dresser has changes of jumpsuits and clean underwear.  That's apparently it.

Bjorn stands up.  If the meditation didn't provide him with any answers, at least it has helped him focus his will -- and in this place, that's a weapon.  He quickly sticks his head under the shower spray to wet his hair, and then turns off the shower, and returns to the main bedroom to dress.

He isn't quite sure how much time's passed (stupid to lose track of that), and so he heads out back towards the Playground.  At the very least, he can talk with Mikey.

It's 'day' again, and Megan is awake.  Mikey is sitting next to her -- Lazarus automatically reaches out to you as he regales them with another story.

After Jonah and the whale, and the story about turtles, Lazarus is now telling Mikey the story of the Emperor's New Clothes.

Bjorn listens for a while to the story, and then points his mental blackboard towards Megan.  Apropos of nothing, do you know a Workshop agent named Jessica Taylor?

Megan actually looks at you sidelong, then turns her attention to the river beneath the cement bridge.  She was in section three until ... a while ago.  Something happened.  You get a brief chalk drawing of someone wreathed in shadow.  Something bad.

She lost it after that.

Hmmph.  The more fool me, then.  Bjorn broods for a bit -- but very surreptitiously, because many people confuse brooding with sulking, and he's decided it's much easier not to deal with that.  What happened with Jessica still confuses him -- she seemed very sincere, and the attack seemed to be directed at her as much as at him.  Was she really a willing agent of the Workshop?  And if so, how much of what she said were lies meant for Bjorn, and how much was lies told to her?

Well.  That's one mystery I can't settle.  Time to go for one of the other two.

Waiting for a proper and polite moment to interrupt the story (telepathic etiquette is a new sort of thing), Bjorn asks, Lazarus, could you tell me what the limits on your mind-linking is?  A hesitation, then, Specifically, could you let me talk to Ashnod?

Lazarus's thought-stream breaks off when posed with this question, and he looks somewhat alarmed, but also thoughtful.  I can only link with people who I can see, he relays slowly.  The link can be maintained after I see someone, for as long as I can stay awake ... but I'd need a way to see him, or see him through someone else's eyes to make that connection.

He seems thoughtful, and Mikey nods, as though the story hadn't broken off.

Why do you want to talk to Ashnod? Megan asks.

Bjorn looks down at his hands, not meeting anyone's eyes.  Partly because I owe him an apology.  Because I thought the worst of him, and so I didn't try to help him escape the Workshop.  And, uh, I hit him with my car, but that's probably relatively unimportant, even if I feel bad about it.

But also because... I think he recognized my bracelet.  At the very least, there was something about it that he seemed to... want.  And the more I learn about this thing, the better chance we all have of getting out of here.  He grimaces.  Or, at least, our chances don't get any worse.

Behind the blackboard, I hope.

Megan looks at you sharply, and then away.  You can't follow it, but you get the impression that something is passing between her and Lazarus.

Mikey begins to him, and rocks back and forth slowly, staring up at the cieling.

After a while, Lazarus sighs, and shakes his head.  That's the first time you've seen him make an audible noise.  Megan can take me to him to make a link, he thinks slowly.  But I don't know if he will be able to help.  You may--

He cuts off, as Dr. Peterson strolls through the door, two guards with him.  He looks pensive, as though he's not sure what he should do, and looks directly at Bjorn for a long moment, before consulting his clipboard.

Judging by the look on that bastard's face, Bjorn "writes" with grim glee, I'd say Richmond had his way.  Good.

Anyways, if getting in touch with Ashnod will be any sort of risk to anyone, then let's not do it.  Like you said, he might not be of any help -- why do you think that, anyways? -- and while an apology might make me feel better, getting anybody hurt or in trouble would make me feel worse, which is a bit of a zero-sum game.

Ashnod's like Victor, or Ezmereth, Lazarus indicates pensively.  He's not left with the others because he's too dangerous ... he's always in private room, and under much tighter guard than the rest of us.

Peterson crosses his arms over his chest, and chews on some gum thoughtfully.  He nods, and takes a decisive step towards you, but he's halted when the door opens again, and Richmond stumbles in, looking slightly winded.  "Peterson," Richmond calls out, just loudly enough for you to hear.  "I need to talk to you about your planned test."

The two lower their voices, but Lazarus transcribes the conversation -- you're not sure where he's getting it from.

Peterson says, "I want to run the M series on Mr. Christianson, and then run a conclusive D series.  Is there a problem?"

Richmond counters, "We haven't completed the rest of the run, and I wanted to pre-empt with a C series -- it seems promising, and when he was near the C series test chamber, there was a reaction."

Dr. Peterson stops chewing his gum and raises his eyebrows at that.  "Really?" he asks.  "Fascinating.  Very well....  I will take Megan, and we'll run a conclusive P-series test on her -- we've gotten a replacement for her role."

Dr. Richmond looks very unhappy about this.  "A replacement?  This means we can step her down, give her a little time to recover, and resume the B-series for anti-aging, not--"

"Taylor can get a good read from her.  We've got an ID on Ezmereth, so we'll need this boost, and once we have Ezmereth back, we're that much closer to getting hold of the Wanderer."

Megan stiffens nervously at this last, and looks at Bridgett worriedly.

While unconvinced, Dr. Richmond nods slowly.  "You're the director," he aquisces, if not agreeing, at least conceeding the point.

"I'm glad we agree," Dr. Peterson says pleasantly, as the doctors break apart.  The two then approach, Richardson shooting quick, doubtul glances at Peterson's back as they draw near.

"How are you doing today?" Peterson asks Megan.

She just stares at him blankly.

"Oh, I'm just fine," Bjorn says cheerily, raising his head and wilfully misinterpreting who the doctor was talking to.  "What about yourself?  You don't look very well, if you don't mind me saying so -- did you sleep alright last night?"

On the mindboard, though, he quickly writes out, This doesn't sound good, and looking at you makes it seem worse.  How bad is this?  Is it time to up the schedule?

This is okay, Megan says, relaxing suddenly, and smiling brightly.  "I feel wonderful, doctor," she says cheerfully.  "I couldn't be better!"  I can see it!  Dr. Peterson is going to die -- and soon.  We just need to hold out another day or two.  I don't know how or why, yet....  "How are you feeling?"

"Marvelous," he says, his expression becoming somewhat skeptical.  "Are you ready for another run of the P-series tests?"

Broken dice, broken dice ... just hang in, and keep planning, she sends.

The doctor nods doubtfully.  "Come along, then," he says.

Richmond turns to you.  "Mr. Christianson?" he asks.  "And how are you doing?"

You take care of yourself, Bjorn replies.  The plan is to get all of us out of here, remember.

Out loud (I'm getting better at this whole dual-conversation thing), he answers, "I didn't sleep all that well, honestly.  I can't quite figure out what time it is, so my sleep schedule is all messed up."

"Mmmm," Richmond replies absently, watching Megan follow Peterson out the door.  After a pause, just at the point of awkwardness, he turns back, shaking his head suddenly.  "The time?" he asks.  "Oh, yes, that is an-- an obstacle we must adjust to."  You barely catch the stutter in his voice.  "Regardless, are you prepared for C-series testing today?"  The guards that had escorted Peterson to the door double back to watch you carefully.

"Well, I rather suppose that depends on what C-testing involves," Bjorn says drily.  Rather than look at Peterson, though, he stares the two guards right in the eye, smiling very faintly in amusement.

"Materials handling," Richmond says, trying to offer you a reassuring smile.  You get the sense it's more for his own benefit than yours.  "You saw Bridgett working there yesterday."

"Ah, right."  Bjorn nods.  "Still, it wasn't really a test with Bridgett, right?  I mean, you know what she can do.  How is it going to work with me, when neither of us knows if I can manipulate anything?"

As he speaks, Bjorn breaks off eye-contact with the guards, assuming a more normal (and reassuring) demeanour.

"Well, we'll find out," Richmond says, shrugging.  "There was a reaction yesterday, so I'd like to find out if some kind of specific material causes a resonance in your bracelet."

You're led quickly to the C-series testing chamber, which looks like a mad-man's vision of an arts and crafts shop.  While there are fist-sized bits of metal (and stone, wood, cloth, plastic, etc.) within easy reach, this time you're accompanied by the S.W.A.T. armored guards the entire distance.

Don't worry, boys.  You ain't got nothin' to worry about yet.

"So how are we going to start?"  Bjorn asks cheerfully.  "Bending paperclips?  Or maybe cutlery?  It'll have to be forks, though, because there is no spoon."

Maybe my power is making people die from horrible jokes!

"Well, why not handle the various material, see if anything speaks out or seems abnormal to you," Richmond suggests, indicating a pile of rocks.  "We'll see if the bracelet reacts to anything.  It may be that the bracelet actually reacts to other people's powers, which will be more difficult to test.  Hmm, maybe we should see if one of the telepaths is able to reach your mind?  That might be worthwhile."  He scribbles something on his PDA, though still looks a bit upset about something.

"Wouldn't that be a part of the M-series tests?"  Bjorn asks, as he starts picking up various materials (starting with the metal, though he doesn't think he's that lucky), and turning it over in his hands.   The question, though, is a bit distracted, as he's actually concentrating on trying to morph the material into the shape of a smooth sphere -- a fairly innocuous accomplishment that wouldn't overly upset the guards.

The metal seems indifferent to your efforts.

"Oh, well, I suppose it would be," the doctor agrees with a small sigh.  "Hmm.  No reaction yet.  Perhaps it's some energy instead of matter?"

Bjorn shrugs, puts the lump of metal down, and focusses on trying to set it on fire.

If I think about it exploding in an inferno that consumes the table, maybe it will warm up.

It does not, in fact, heat up.  But as before, thinking of Ashnod and the fire that came at you on the highway does evoke a reaction from the bracelet.  It's now glowing, though very softly.

The guards shift uneasily, and Richmond seems surprised.  "Iron?" he asks, peering at the metal.  "Hmm.  Interesting."

Death starts looking around for any cameras or air vents, then checks the ceiling to see if what kind of light fixture this room has and to check if this room has been set up with a sprinkler system on the ceiling by any chance?

Shade:  Your room is square, has an air duct above both the door, and the wall opposite it, is solid cement (except for the floor, which is linoleum), and after climbing on the bed to look, you would guess that there is a camera in each vent.

The ceiling has four rectangular cuts in it, each with a row of florescent lights within.  There's a heavy iron grill (patterned like leaves) bolted over the top of it.

You're pondering dragging the dresser over to the vent above the door, to see if there's a camera there, when someone knocks loudly.

Death blinks and grabs one of the uniforms from the dresser.

"Yes?"

You're already dressed.  The door opens, after you say yes, and you see a doctor and two S.W.A.T. armored guards behind him.  This doctor's a woman, short, with dark hair in a severe, tight bun. "Good morning, Mr. Fujinaka, how are you doing today?"

Without waiting for you to reply, she nods, and says, "Good, good, good," in a voice devoid of sympathy.  "Now, since you're awake, and you look like you're feeling energized, we're going to give you some quick tests to make sure you're okay."  She looks up from her clipboard at this, and smiles.  It's a thin, tight smile that speaks of formality, and nothing else.  "Let's come along now, shall we?"

Okay.  Sometimes when I think of fire, it works, sometimes it doesn't -- but it never does anything.  But what if I'm a little wrong about the nature of the trigger?

So Bjorn continues to focus on the metal sphere, but this time not thinking about fire, per se, as much as about Ashnod, and the moment where Ashnod lashed out with his pyrokinesis, and what it felt like as the sheets of flame swept across him....

The bracelet emits a low hum, and the brightness of the glow intensifies greatly, shedding blue light across the room.  Dr. Richmond smiles triumphantly.  "See?" he mumbles to himself, scribbling on his PDA.  "No D-series testing required."

Great.  Wonderful.  Now, the question is:  can I do anything with this?

Tenatatively, Bjorn focuses even more on Ashnod, himself, along with a feeling of trying to reach out towards him -- but ready to stop at any time if it looks like whatever reaction is going on is about to get out of hand.

When your thoughts fade from the actual attack itself, the glow diminishes, as well.

Okay.  So Ashnod himself isn't the trigger.  But if it's the attack... maybe it's just any attack?

Bjorn tries to focus on another time that metahuman powers have been used on him.  This turns out to be tricky, because, well, they haven't been used on him all that often.   Eventually, he settles on the feeling of Megan reaching out for telepathic contact during the time that he was learning to lower his defenses -- the only time he "felt" telepathy without actively permitting it.

The glow fades quickly.  But having accustomed yourself to looking for other messages scrawled on your mental blackboards, it gives you (inwardly, at least), the sensation of turning the blackboards away, so that only you can write on them.

Huh.  Bjorn stalls for some time by setting the lump of iron aside and putting a block of wood before himself, frowning at it.  Okay.  If that means what I think it means, then the bracelet doesn't do anything I hadn't guessed at already.  Now, here's a good question...

Bjorn conjures the mental image of sticking his arm into a blazing hot campfire.

The bracelet seems not to have any reaction at all to this mental image.

More or less what I thought.  Good thing I didn't let Peterson lock me in the vault.

Two things left to check.  One is that if the bracelet is glowing, I've got some sort of 'power-shield' up.  The second is whether if when the shield is up, it'll block non-metahuman stuff too.  Kinda doubt it.  Can't test either right now, and don't really want to try testing the second.  Either way...

Bjorn lets himself slump, and sigh.  "Wow.  I'm really, really tired all of a sudden.  Are we done here?"

"Hm?" Dr. Richmond seems surprised.  "Well, we've not really..." he trails off, frowning.  "I suppose so," he says after a moment."

The guards watch you warily, and escort you back to the playroom.  Megan is nowhere in sight, and you see another doctor (female) leading someone you don't recognize out of the room as you come in.

Okay.  As previously established, I'm resistant to telepathy.  Either I'm also resistant to other forms of power as well, or I have a Bracelet of Ashnod Protection +3, +5 In The Snow.  Mikey can punch through walls.  Bridgett might be able to make herself bullet-proof, but that leaves the rest of us, and the whole "tranquilizing gas" bit.  Not to mention trying to protect everyone else from the Section 3 metas.

Irritably, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose again.  Think harder.  I must be missing something...

As you look about the room, you realize that for whatever reason, you are the only person there who's actually wearing spectacles.  Well, Dr. Peterson, of course, but who cares about him?

Lazarus waves at you from near Mikey.

Bjorn gets up and heads over towards Lazarus.  Great.  Every other metahuman gets perfect goddamn eyesight.  I get glow-in-the-dark accessories.  "Hello, Lazarus, Mikey.  How're you doing?"

"We're doin' good, Mister B!" Mikey says happily.  He looks slightly anxious, and asks, "Do you know where miss Megan is?"

"No, I don't."  Bjorn frowns.  "I hope she's okay."

I don't suppose you're still linked to her, Lazarus?

"Old man Lazarus says that she'll be okay," Mikey says doubtfully.  He looks less than convinced, which is easy to read on his face.

"I'm sure she will be," Bjorn says confidently.  But don't ask me to back that up.

On his mindboard, he writes with grim irony to Lazarus, Bad news.  It turns out I can't crack the Earth in half with naught but a wave of my hand after all.

Lazarus looks vexed, and you get, ...resist ... without ... thinking?

Bjorn blinks, and makes a bit more of an effort to lower his mental defenses.  I'm sorry?  What was that?

Your mental defenses are powerful, Lazarus supplies.  Megan let go, because they would have seen me.  They scan people during the p-testing cycle.

He broods for a moment.  What did you discover, if anything?

Mikey fills the silence by saying, "We got a new person in here."

Thinking about Ashnod trying to burn me gets a reaction from the bracelet.  Thinking about someone trying to force telepathy on me seems to automatically raise my defenses.  I think what it comes down to is I seem to be resistant to powers being applied to me, but the only other test I can think of is to try and have Mikey use his Tk on me.  I don't think I have any sort of protection against normal attacks, though.

Outside his head, Bjorn turns to Mikey.  "Oh?  Do you know anything about him?"

Mikey shakes his head.  "Jonah fixed his eyes," he supplies.  "But I don't know him.  One of the doc'ers took him away f'r testing."

"Huh," Bjorn expounds.  "Do they usually start testing people right away?  It took a little while before they started on me -- and that's not counting however much time I spent unconcious."

That depends, really, Lazarus sends.  They test more heavily on those who they suspect would be more useful.  Sometimes it takes longer to set up specific tests, however.  Perhaps they already knew his abilities before he was captured, and they now simply need to capture him?

He looks thoughtful, while Mikey haltingly retells the story about Jonah and 'The Big Fishie'.

Those who understand their own powers usually have that information read by the other mind-readers.  Perhaps, if you do not know your own powers, they need more time to decide how to test you.

Hmmph.  They had a pretty clear idea of what I could do -- at least, the part they cared about -- but it might have taken them time to set it up.  Probably, in fact.  I suppose I'm an inconsiderate bastard for having messed it up for them.

How many telepaths do they have, anyways?

Since Megan no longer works for them, and I never have, two, Lazarus says slowly.  I believe.  He seems largely certain.

Our more pressing question is our plan of action, once we decide to escape.

You notice Bridgett at this point, playing at the edge of the pool, making hollow glass spheres that are floating across the surface of the water.

"Good morning, Bridgett.  How're you today?"

Two, Bjorn "writes" thoughtfully.  That's not really very many.  How many metahumans do they have on their side, total, and what sorts?

To plan an escape, we need to know defenses.  Going out the front door is tricky.  Mikey could open the door, I gather, and I think Bridgett could make us fishbowl helmets to provide enough hair to get through the gas, but that still leaves the guards.  Unless you or Megan can use telepathy to stop them, or at least stun them long enough to deal with them physically?

And then we come up against Section 3.  Bjorn conceals a grimace.  There's a good chance I'm safe from them, but the question is, is that enough?

Lazarus looks thoughtful.  You may have more power than you think.  Very well.  You surround yourself with an image of thick slate barriers.  Can you not, perhaps, erect those barriers around another?  I have a connection with you.  Try raising your defenses for a moment and see what happens.

Bjorn shrugs internally.  Taking Lazarus' suggestion of treating the mindboard as being the shield, he imagines pushing it out to envelop Mikey and himself, and then (remembering his experiences during the test) "flips" it, so that the writing surface faces inwards.

Lazarus looks flustered, and Mikey breaks off mid-ramble.  "Why did Old Man Lazarus get quiet?" he asks, scratching his head.

Bridgett has yet to look up from her laborious manufacture of glass spheres.

Bjorn pulls back his mindboard and flips it over again.  I take it that worked?

...yes. Lazarus replies, somewhat subdued.  That was somewhat unexpected.

Hm.  One more time.  I'll try to include you in the shield, this time.

As Bjorn says, he repeats the procedure, but this time including all of Mikey, Lazarus, and himself.

While before, Lazarus seemed surprised, he was prepared for it, though you actually feel that he's impressed through the connection.  You notice that now, it actually requires a small amount of concentration to maintain, however.

Fascinating, Lazarus sends.  I imagine this would be quite useful, if used properly.  The doctors have ... no idea that you have this ability?

Bjorn thinks.  Jessica Taylor is one of the telepaths, right?  She tried to read my mind when we first met, and had problems.  We'd better assume that they know I have some mental resistance -- but Megan seemed to imply that I'm much stronger with the bracelet, so they probably don't know just how strong I am.  They shouldn't have any reason to believe that I can shield anyone other than myself.

Bjorn draws the mindboard back to himself, and turns it out for communication.  It'd be interesting to know if I can do the same for protection against something like, say, Ashnod's pyrokinesis.  Not easy to check that, though.

So that, hopefully, will let us deal with the telepaths.  Hm.  Could you reach out to someone outside the shield when you were inside it?  And what other metahumans will we have to deal with?

And -- because I'm curious -- do you know what Bridgett is doing?

Jessica?  Perhaps -- I've never known her name.  I link minds, I don't read them.  When inside the shield, it was like being surrounded by a wall.  I couldn't get out, and that was ...  different.

Turning to look at Bridgett, he thinks, I don't know how to test the other, as no one here is that dangerous....

I don't know much of the metahumans that work for the Workshop, as no one's ever gotten that far before.  You can feel his annoyance at this.

I asked Bridgett, and she only said she was making a present.  I'm somewhat curious myself....

Hm.  Well, now the question is: do we take the mostly-known challenge of the front door, or do we risk the fountain?  I'm hesitant to take that route, since there's too many unknowns -- but on the other hand, the single biggest obstacle we have is the guards.  If the fountain can let us bypass them....

Hm.  One more experiment, if you'll indulge me?

After waiting for confirmation from Lazarus, Bjorn once again expands the mindboard to protect Mikey, Lazarus, and himself.  Then, though, he imagines a second mindboard, one which wraps around Bjorn's mind alone.

This experiment seems to work, though this one actually makes you feel like you're doing something instead of just thinking about doing something.  You hear nothing from Lazarus, and he's got a slightly anxious look about him.

Bjorn drops back to his lowered defense state.  Did that work?  Were you able to contact Mikey, and no one else?

Yes, Lazarus replies.  That's ... unnerving.  I'm not used to it being so 'quiet' around me..

Don't worry, I think I'm done with experiments for the day.  But now we know I should be able to isolate a telepath -- if maybe not for very long.  I could actually feeling it take effort to do that trick.  

Now, what do you think?  Front door, or fountain?

If we try anything, they'll seal us in, Lazarus warns.  He ponders this for a moment, and says, We also don't know if there is anything in the fountain ... and Michael certainly wouldn't get through that opening easily -- even if he fits well, it will be dark.  I would suggest that we try the door.  In a worst case situation, they will seal us in here.  We can then re-analyze our options should it become neccessary.

Good point.  Dark may not be a huge problem, though.  I think I can get the bracelet to put out light more or less at will.

Front door it is.  That leaves the question of guards -- which, unfortunately, is a big one.  Ah, well.  We need to wait for Megan, anyways, so we have time to think about it.

Lazarus nods pensively.  I wonder what is down there, now ... if all this time there was an easy way out, and we ignored it....

It's not an easy escape, no matter what.  Either you need some way to breathe underwater, or you'll need to break the fountain and give the drain a chance to clear.  And there's a good chance it's a dead-end, a trap set up to fool people looking to escape.

It's too bad we don't have anyone to explore it.  Like... what was her name?  Erica... Montrose?  Montague?  Do you know who I'm talking about?

As he "talks" to Lazarus, Bjorn kneels down, readjusting his glasses, and starts to idly splash water at Bridgett's glass spheres, making them drift about the fountain.

<Brian> Bridgett looks up in surprise at your splashing, as though she had forgotten that you were there momentarily.  When she sees it's you, she smiles, and turns her attention back to making more spheres.
Bjorn grins at Bridgett, and does not stop.
<Brian> The door opens at about this point, and both the guy you glimpsed in passing and Megan are returned to the room.  The guy looks okay, but a little dizzy, and wobbles his way to a table before sitting down and rubbing at his temples.  Megan looks worse for wear, drained, and with a thin trickle of blood from one corner of her lips; she's actually being help up by two of the guards, and hauled into the room.
Bjorn stands up and starts to move towards Megan.
<Brian> The guards eye you warily, but Jonah jumps to his feet and runs towards her more quickly, waving him arms frantically.  The guards make no move to stop him, keeping their eyes on you.
Bjorn stops short of the guards, trying to look non-threatening. "I just want to see how she is."
Dracos is now known as Dracos
<Brian> "She's fine," the guard says, the first thing you've heard any of them say.  Jonah reaches out and brushes his fingertips across Megan's face with a look of intense concentration.
<Brian> roll 4#1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 4#1d6 --> [ 1d6=3 ]{3}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=4 ]{4}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}
Bjorn looks at the guard skeptically.
<Brian> She looks much better after Jonah touches her, and jerks free of the guards' grips, glowering.  They back off, towards the doorway.
<Brian> -Idiots-, she sends to you.
<Bjorn> -Pardon me for caring-, Bjorn "writes" wryly.
<Brian> Megan looks worried, but doesn't remove her hands from the pool.  "I'm okay," she says aloud.  -They knew I was hiding something from them-.
<Brian> *Bridgett
<Bjorn> "Dare I ask why a 'conclusive P-series test' left you bleeding from the mouth?" Bjorn asks, quietly.  On the mindboard, though: -Does that mean we have to escape soon?  And... what are you hiding, or can you tell me?-
<Brian> -I can't let them know that Peterson's going to die-, Megan notes, as Jonah backs away, and looks at you curiously.  "
<Brian> "Who said anything about 'conclusive'?" she asks, frowning.  -I shouldn't let them know I know what _that_ means, either.-
<Bjorn> - Oh.  Right.  Duh.  Pardon me, been a busy day. - On the mindboard, Bjorn sketches out what he knows of his "shield" so far.   Out loud, "'Conclusive'?  Sorry, that's just a stupid joke from my graduate student days.  We used to joke there were tests, and then there were conclusive tests, and, uh... yeah.  Nevermind."
<Bjorn> Scratching his head in embarrassment, he turns to Jonah.  "Uh, hi.  My name's Bjorn.  Pleased to meet you."
<Brian> She shrugs indifferently, and the guards vanish through the open doors.  Jonah says nothing, merely squinting at you and reaching a hand towards your face.  "Broke eyes," he says sadly.
<Bjorn> "Yeah, I suppose they are."  Bjorn just stays still, though, as Jonah reaches out, remembering what Mikey had said about the newcomer.
<Brian> His fingertips touch your face, and your vision goes wavery.  It feels like there's a thousand strings holding you together, and he's just unknotted one of them.  He smiles at you, though your vision is now blurry.  "Fixed!" he announces happily.
<Brian> Humming to himself, he wanders back to his flower, completely oblivious to you.
Bjorn takes off his glasses, and blinks.
<Brian> After telepathy, this should seem mild, but....
<Brian> Hey!  You've got peripheral vision again!
<Brian> Megan smirks.  "He's a sweetie," she assures.  -I don't know about moving the schedule up ... but something's happening soon.  I see ... that the most successful attempt is going to happen the next time they take me away.-
<Bjorn> Lost in bewilderment, Bjorn goes to push his glasses back up in a nervous gesture, and stabs himself between the eyes.
<Bjorn> -What, you mean as they try to take you away?-
<Brian> -No, a little after I'm gone.  They take the ... the new guy, I haven't talked to him, but his mind feels raw from here, like they read him inside and out.  He's going to try something.  I don't think even he knows it, yet.  But when he does, he sets of something that causes a lot of attention to go towards him.  If you can get out of here, and to him....-
Bjorn grunts mentally -- and when you grunt mentally by visualizing drawing it, it's a bit weird. -Then how do we find you again? And is it really important to get to him?-
<Brian> -I'm ... not sure,- she admits.  -He's got a tie to Ezmereth.  That's a start, because he's the only one who's ever broken out of here.-
<Brian> -Well, been broken out,- she admits.  "So, enjoying your new vision?"
<Bjorn> -Gaaaaah.  It's going to be hard enough to manage this escape without added complications.  And that's assuming we can trust this guy.  But I suppose I don't have much choice but to trust what you see, eh?-  "I'm in shock, frankly.  I've been wearing glasses since... well, forever.  And I'm so bad about cleaning them that my vision is pretty lousy even wearing them."
<Bjorn> With a shrug and a lop-sided smile, Bjorn hands his old, now useless glasses to Bridgett.  "Here you go.  Ten gets you one that you'll enjoy these more than I ever did."
<Brian> Megan smirks, and walks to the bridge, a few meters away from Lazarus and Mikey.  "You'll adjust."  Bridgett looks initially startled, then thoughtful, and accepts the glasses, popping the lenses out easily.
<Brian> -What, exactly, did you see?- Lazarus asks, nodding at the little girl.  -I'm worried.-
<Brian> You catch that something is being thrown between the two that's too complicated to make it through even your weakened shield, like a chalk drawing of a two-dimensional cross-section of a three dimensional object.
<Brian> Lazarus sits down heavily, and Mikey just looks confused.
<Bjorn> -I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.-
<Brian> -I disagree with the lady's assessment,- Lazarus sends flatly.  -Megan, think about this.  The image of the new one fighting are undoubtedly accurate, but the....  I do not like the plan.  He will likely die in the attempt.-
<Brian> Megan shows no outward reaction, but you can sense the desperation in her thoughts.  -We have to get out of here, Lazarus!  All of us.  I....-  She looks at Lazarus out of the corner of her eyes, and some communication you're not privy to is sent.  Lazarus flinches.
<Brian> -I do not like this plan,- Lazarus sends again.  -But ... this is your choice.  When?-
<Brian> -Tonight,- she says.  -I think it's night.  I don't know.  When they take me away again.-
<Bjorn> -I still don't like that part.  Do you now how much time we'll have between when you're taken away, and when we need to try to escape?-
<Brian> -It's uncertain.  It could be many things, but I'm not sure which is right.  A ... call from the north wind?  I don't understand that part, yet.-
<Bjorn> -Mmph.  Lazarus, can you keep a link with Megan for as long as possible?  I'd rather not have to search through the entire complex in the middle of an escape attempt.-
<Brian> -I will try,- he agrees.  -This strikes me as the best course.-
<Bjorn> -Then that's what we'll do.  I'd go on record as objecting to this plan, but what record?- Bjorn stretches, and then looks at Megan seriously. -I trust you, and I understand there's things you can't or won't tell me.  But is there anything I should know about what you've seen?-
<Brian> -Timing is of the essence,- she sends.  -Help comes ... though I don't understand from where.-  She hesitates, looking visibly nervous, and adds, -...and ... Victor can be trusted, if only because he hates his captors more than us.-
<Brian> Lazarus visibly starts, gasping aloud before he recovers himself.
<Bjorn> -That would probably scare me if I knew who Victor is,- Bjorn "writes" dryly.  -And I hope whatever the new guy does is pretty dramatic, because it's hard to have good timing when you don't know the start signal.-
<Brian> And then, even though you know it's far too soon, the doors fly open.
<Brian> Megan takes a deep breath, and nods, marching to approach the guards.
Bjorn turns to look at the door, blinking. 'Boy, it's nice to be able to see that far naturally....'
<Brian> -Megan truly sees Peterson's death,- Lazarus sends, worriedly.  -But this is all so fast, and so soon!-
Bjorn grins widely, and twiddles his fingers at the guards in a polite, if slightly effeminate greeting.
<Brian> They eye you uneasily, and escort Megan away.
<Bjorn> - It doesn't matter,- Bjorn replies. -Fast or slow, soon or later, we will escape.  "Allow no other options, and there will be none."-
<Brian> -Be brave, Old Man Lazarus,- Mikey sends.  -And you too, Mister B.  Miss Megan and Bridgett are being brave....-

They're Coming To Take Me Away, Ha-Ha merges with Hey!  Teacher!  Leave That Kid Alone! (http://pishoque.net/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?p=28545#28545) here.