October 12 2008

PMs to Shane and Glitch

Jillian had been fighting panic since waking up in her apartment prison yesterday - being alone, being locked in, worry for her friends and the sudden lack of communication from Saj. He hadn't answered all night, and she'd ended up knocking back a couple shots of rum and playing bass until she was too tired to do anything other than fall in bed. Then she woke up to a locked bathroom and kitchen, which was far too reminiscent of what they'd done to her in the last experiment. She went to the computers to distract herself and see if anyone else had a clue as to what was going on, finding first the message from the scientists, and then from Saj and Posy. Grabbing a pen and paper to write down names and numbers, she set off replies to both of them before messaging Shane and Glitch.

Okay, two things guys. One, Saj is hurt. He hit his head last night trying to break out, and I think he's been unconscious since this morning. Do we know if a doctor is around? He says he feels bad, and I'm worried. Next thing is that I guess we have to try to find the codes to our kitchens and bathrooms? I guess my name is Pirate Audra the Off-White. I've got Fruity Gwyn Dread, whose code is 1830. Posy is Porthole Jackie Hacke. She's got a code for someone with "Itchy Tasty" in their name, but I've asked her to send me the full thing before I pass it on. I'll update you guys when I get it and when I get Saj's info - he sounds really confused, so I'm trying to walk him through it. But a doctor's advice would be good. He says he's got a forehead like a golf ball and something for a sandy deadweight.

misinterpretations

who: brett and eris
where: pmland
when: wee-hours

What really needed to happen was she needed to stop waking up with the vague feeling of surprise that she was waking up at all. That would be a great place to start out. Not somewhat shocked that she was conscious, breathing, not dead. It would at the very least be a mark of not being quite so fucked up. Of course if she stopped waking up confused about waking up at all, it would probably mean that she'd survived the experiment. And somehow, she didn't figure that was going to happen, by any stretch of the imagination.

Someone would find a reason to kill her. They'd feed someone just enough bullshit--or hell, truth--and someone would want to take her out. Or she'd do something stupid like last night, and do it to herself accidentally. One's survivability rating really tended to nosedive when you were actually likely to kill yourself just by pure accident. The third option was she did what she'd done when she'd driven out of town, which was merely put herself into a position where she was likely to die, and she couldn't bring herself to give a shit. Those bouts of sliding down into self destructive tendencies that she still didn't quite know the origin of. Yeah, she wasn't going to make it. It was clear she thought that. And even if she did, she didn't know what the fuck she was going to do back in the outside world. It wasn't like she could go back to her old life. There certainly wasn't a place for her there.

Passing On Information PM to Stan, Jack and Brianna

After gathering some names and numbers, here is what I've been able to gather due to the help of others I can speak with and they can. Addison has put together a fairly coherent listing and way of listing things, so if you would like to continue this and copy it to others, go ahead, if you have your own methods, feel free. Please add in information that you have for me, and I will pass on anything you have added to the others I'm speaking with.

(Glitch) Pirate Corliss the Dagger: (unknown)
(unknown) Fat-Ass Carmen Barbossa: (unknown)
(Shane) Stop-Picking-At-It The Wise: (unknown)

Messages to: Eris, Leo, Ronnie, Cheyenne

Feeling:
amused

Dale cracked her knuckles. If there was a way to just copy the message over and over, she'd do that, but she figured she could write out something that was the same for everyone if she wrote it down on paper first. So she hunted around until she found the pad of paper that was by the phone in the cabin (not that the phone worked) and a pen that was in a drawer somewhere. What she'd really would've liked was a whiteboard so she could keep track of names and numbers, of course.

Right. This is Dale!

Looking for the numbers for
"Fruity Gwyn Dread" (that's me!)

pm to jillian, adam, esme, lillith

As loathe as I am to play along with this pathetic display from these so-called scientists, I simply refuse to pee in the sink.

I have a code for someone named...oh for goodness sake, I don't know. "Itchy Tasty" or something equally childish.
And apparantly I am "Porthole Jackie Hacke".

I cannot help but feel this is quite beneath me. I am not a 7 year old and I do not wish to play games like one.

-Posy

Cap'n Hillary Leadsword Ain't Happy

who: svet
when: morningish
where: memory lane. for a bit.

A rather befuddled message for Will & Jillian

dint break out. hit head. feel...bad. can't see straight. forehead like a golfball.
stuffs all locked n i gota wierd messge. whos sandy deadweight and do they have asprin?

think ima throw up.

Pms to Brianna, Brett, Jesse and Svetlana

Alone again, huh? Owen here.

I got this as a message today, and I'm not sure if you guys have seen this. I'm sending this message out to everyone, because well, yeah.

Raargh "Itchy Tasty" Muurgh is my name for the day. I've got a code. which is 4432. I don't know what it does. I think it's supposed to go to Pirate Corliss the Dagger. whoever that is.

How're you guys holding up?

PM to Cheyenne, Eris, and Glitch

So I already told Camber I'm not fucking playing pirate for these assholes. If they want me to piss in a corner, I'll end up doing it. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, though. The name and number I was told to look for on my terminal were as follows: Cap'n Hillary Leadsword, 8671. If any of you find someone who got saddled with that goofy shit, congrats. You or they can now take a shower. That's what I figure at least; they're making us swap information along these fucking terminals just to get the basic facilities opened up.

PM to Everett, Brett, Addison and Brianna

Ahoy, me beauties. I woke to find the galley and head's been locked away! Some foul bilge rat's been here in the night! And me having had too much grog...aargh. (Seriously. They MUST drug us. I don't get hangovers and I feel like shit.)

I be looking for one Apathetic Carolyn Sparrow. I believe she'll be needing my assistance, for her number does me no good. Perchance she has mine? Tell her this: 7539.

And if anyone hears my name about these parts from any other landlubber, report back smart-like. Or you'll have hell to pay!

Noseless Audra Slasher