piper90npcs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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goneawayworld2020-08-06 08:59 pm
piper90npcs) wrote in goneawayworld2020-08-06 08:59 pm
Entry tags:
INTERMISSION
Who: Everyone
What: Sudden Plot Break
Where: The Rig
When: Post-Pathless Woods 2
Warnings/Notes: n/a
The world... glitches. The last second repeats itself once, twice, four times, and then the colors stretch and blur, like an old television set that's losing the signal. Then everything goes black.
And suddenly, light. Bright, glaring. The smells rush back, the harsh bleach anti-septic of the Rig. And the noises are almost painful as total silence slams back into the normal workings of Piper 90.
Blinking owlishly, surprised and looking a little uncertain, is a middle-management type. His suit doesn't quite fit, half a size too large, and he's used too much hairspray. Or maybe that's just cologne. Either way, he smiles brightly. "Well, welcome back! Well done and congratulations on the success of your missions. We had some drones at a safe distance, purely for security reasons of course, and we were very pleased with how you handled yourselves. Especially the way you, uh." He pauses and checks his clipboard. The bit he wants to reference is just a smear of ink, the printer must have had an accident of some kind. The best he can read is... "Benedicted that whole cumberbatch issue."
There. He beams, pleased with his translation. It makes no sense, but if he pretends it does, then maybe they won't ask questions.
"Now, we're certain you've had a rough day doing... that thing that you did. So we've authorized an extra serving of dessert for everyone and the rest of today off. You have half of tomorrow off, too. But don't worry about the working half! I'm told that Mister Planker has a special reward in store, so it'll practically be a full vacation day for you!"
What: Sudden Plot Break
Where: The Rig
When: Post-Pathless Woods 2
Warnings/Notes: n/a
The world... glitches. The last second repeats itself once, twice, four times, and then the colors stretch and blur, like an old television set that's losing the signal. Then everything goes black.
And suddenly, light. Bright, glaring. The smells rush back, the harsh bleach anti-septic of the Rig. And the noises are almost painful as total silence slams back into the normal workings of Piper 90.
Blinking owlishly, surprised and looking a little uncertain, is a middle-management type. His suit doesn't quite fit, half a size too large, and he's used too much hairspray. Or maybe that's just cologne. Either way, he smiles brightly. "Well, welcome back! Well done and congratulations on the success of your missions. We had some drones at a safe distance, purely for security reasons of course, and we were very pleased with how you handled yourselves. Especially the way you, uh." He pauses and checks his clipboard. The bit he wants to reference is just a smear of ink, the printer must have had an accident of some kind. The best he can read is... "Benedicted that whole cumberbatch issue."
There. He beams, pleased with his translation. It makes no sense, but if he pretends it does, then maybe they won't ask questions.
"Now, we're certain you've had a rough day doing... that thing that you did. So we've authorized an extra serving of dessert for everyone and the rest of today off. You have half of tomorrow off, too. But don't worry about the working half! I'm told that Mister Planker has a special reward in store, so it'll practically be a full vacation day for you!"
no subject
"Guess I should be thankful that I don't remember swimming against the current in armor."
NEVER AGAIN, he told himself. And yet here he was, totally ready to leap into a flood with more metal on him than before.
"What about that wound you had? On your leg?"
no subject
She pulls up her pantsleg in response to his second question, checking for the first time. It's not gone, but it's - smaller, paler. Less throbbing with its own malignant life. Gone dormant.
"...better, I guess?"
no subject
Upon taking a look at her leg, he manages to be a bit more optimistic than on the road.
"Well, it doesn't look infected. Why not ask Emily to take a look later?"
no subject
no subject
"...I'm fine. No broken bones or anything. Just wonderin' what the hell happened."
He rubs his temple a bit, as if nursing a budding headache. At least all the action took his mind off the hound.
no subject
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"I can go with you. There's somethin' I gotta ask her, anyway."
About his arm, going by the way he traced the cannon's iron grooves with his thumb. Cart or not, having to choose between weapon and a functioning hand isn't ideal.
no subject