Logs:Day of Rest
| Day of Rest | |
|---|---|
cn for allusions to medical torture and horrible prison guards | |
| Dramatis Personae | 2023-05-06 "How was your session?" |
| Location | |
There are dozens if not hundreds of rooms like this in the sprawling research complex, and while their specific purposes vary, most of them could easily be mistaken for exam rooms at a regular doctor's office. The exam table against the wall is oddly ordinary, the reclining chair here would be at home in any phlebotomy lab. The shelves and cabinets are neatly labeled and stocked with supplies for basic physical exams, biofluid sampling, and minor wound care. There is a highly adjustable (ergonomic!) work station with a wheeling stool, and two stationary chairs, padded though not particularly comfortable, next to the door. This is not the first time Dr. Allred has requested Joshua after someone else's testing session, and it's not the first time her request has leapfrogged over over a more senior researcher to be filled. Probably there is some muttering about it, somewhere on the researcher's side of the facility. It doesn't seem to be bothering her here as she turns away from her research subject to get sterile cotton swabs and vials, pushing her horn-rimmed glassed back up her nose as they slip. Her white labcoat is open over a navy button-down, a multitude of pens clipped securely to the breast pocket. A silver chain is clipped to a beltloop on her slacks, the pocketwatch on the other end tucked away. Her hair is pinned into a neat bun at the base of her skull, no-nonsense and serious. Her expression is the same when Lily turns back, sets her equipment on the work station surface, looking down to don nitrile gloves. "How was your session?" she asks, small-talk voice carefully light as she rolls the stool, such that her back is facing the camera. "Not too exhausting, I hope?" Is Joshua exhausted? It is hard to say; he is, at least, no more than his usual level of dour where he slumps in his chair, though there is admittedly a definite lean to his slouching, favoring one side noticeably in where he chooses to rest his arms. "Don't usually work Saturdays." His cheeks suck against his teeth, eyes lifting briefly to the ceiling. "Shit's been kinda chaotic. Guess we're all," his voice is not that carefully light, really, just very -- very dry, "putting in some overtime." Lily huffs, so light that probably only Joshua actually could recognize it for a laugh. "Not our ideal schedule, either. Dr. Landry has been having a fit all day." There's a glimmer of something more tight across Lily's face, the press of lips together before she says something too familiar. She picks up a long cotton swab and frees it from its packaging. "May I?" She gestures for Joshua to open his mouth. Quieter, when she's closer to her friend: "The guards. Is that one still here. Has anything else changed on your side." "Shit. Landry got dinner to get to? Concert? Could probably squeeze two, three more torture in before dinner, if it makes his day tougher." Joshua has been slouching still further in his seat and does not unslouch himself for Lily's benefit. He does open his mouth Just Enough, obligingly, voice not shifting from its usual tonelessness though it does drop much lower as Lily leans in closer. "-- shitbag disappeared. Neat trick, can I Death Note anyone here?" He isn't waiting for an answer on this, though. He is setting the pen he brought in with him down on his armrest as he continues: "Everyone's been jumpy lately. Guards especially, some of 'em have --" His jaw works slowly. "... just some ugly shit on there." "Good." Lily waits for Joshua to finish speaking before swabbing the inside of his cheek. "How ugly? The devil works fast, maybe he can pull some more out of there." She leans back and turns to her work surface, pushing the swab into a tube of clear liquid and capping it. The pen beside Joshua is gone -- Lily is trading it for an identical one in her pocket when she swivels back, the new pen left casually when its twin was. "Don't worry about the battery. I can change them out more often once my research program is approved." Joshua nods, tucking the pen back away into a pocket. "Lassiter-ugly's it's own fucking thing. Fresh meat comes in, a rush of labcoats start salivating over portioning them out --" His heavy brows knit, but only for a moment. "Can be a shit time to be one of the suckers stuck here with the power of turning your hair purple, you know?" Lily’s lips press together tightly. “I’ve been seeing that, too.” Does she actually need another sample? She’s uncovering another swab anyway. “Folks get real upset when I take away their target practice. Trying, though — everything falls in my project area. Once it’s approved, things should be a little easier on you.” She’s looking with barely masked concern at Joshua’s sideways lean, the side he’s clearly favouring. "Good. I hope they appreciate you, then. Recognize your proper value." Joshua doesn't smile. If anything, his tone has gotten more grim. There is a small trace of something darkly amused pulling at his long features as he shifts uncomfortably in the chair. "Project like this, you're gonna change this place forever." | |
