Logs:Do Not Pass Go

Do Not Pass Go
Dramatis Personae Clint, Wendy
In Absentia	2019-08-17 "You play what you have." (Set in the Blackburn Prometheus facility.)
Location <PRO> Access Road, Wreck Room - Blackburn Research Facility
It's a cool, clear night, and the full moon rides just past zenith in a starry sky. The only functioning school bus in all of Piscataquis County is parked behind a particularly dense stand of pine trees beside the access road for the Blackburn facility. Clint has been sitting in the driver's seat, dressed in hunting camouflage, for almost three hours now. He's tweaking the tension on his bow, testing the string with his thumb now and again. The aging LED clock on the dashboard ticks from 1:59 to 2:00, drawing his gaze to it. His lips press together as he looks out into the empty night. "Well. Shit." The sign by the door says "Rec Room", but someone with a permanent marker bookended the first word with "W" and "k" at some point, and the subsequent effort to undo the vandalism was lackluster. Inside it is not usually that much of a wreck, though it might be more interesting if it were. One corner is dedicated to the reasonably sized flatscreen television mounted on the wall, with several rows of folding chairs arrayed before it. Another is centered around a set of tacky vinyl sofas bracketed by two bookshelves largely stocked with supermarket checkout paperbacks (about half James Patterson by volume, with Danielle Steel heavily represented, and there are at least six copies of Fifty Shades of Gray at any given time). The rest of the space is more modular, but usually plays host to several card tables ringed with folding chairs, supplied by a shelf of games, from playing cards to chess (with a couple of improvised pieces) to three different flavors of Monopoly. Clint has been cleaning in here, as meticulously as ever, over lunch break, and is in the process of gathering his implements to leave the room ready for the returning labrats. Few would notice his agitation, which finds little expression on his face or in his body language. The very observant, however, might suspect some cause for distraction based on the ever-so-slightly slip-shod work he's done on his shifts today, leaving his assigned areas less than entirely spotless. Wendy is just finishing tying off the second of two plaits in her hair as she enters. There's a frown on her face and a tension in her shoulders. Her eyes sweep the room first -- then study Clint. She crosses the room, picking up a dustcloth off of one of the bookshelves and heading to Clint to hold it out to him. Clint must have noticed Wendy well before she approached him, though he does not acknowledge her until then. "Hello," he says, accepting the dustcloth. "Thank you." He tosses the cloth into a bin on his cart. "Keep misplacing things today, it seems." "It happens to all of us. It can be kind of a madhouse around here." Wendy plucks at one of the hair ties around her wrist, snapping it lightly against her skin. "I had this entire plan for --" Her eyes flick around the rec room quickly, "a game night for everyone last night, but when we went to get started all the pieces weren't there." "Is that so?" Clint raises his eyebrows. "Sounds frustrating." He pauses, squinting critically at the game shelves. "How about I check those over and see what I can do about it before your next game night?" "Games in here usually are. I mean, it's not like Monopoly is ever going to be fun, but everyone won't get to play if we're missing the little --" Wendy holds her forefinger and thumb up -- just so much apart! -- to indicate the tiny token size. "Car piece. We're going to try it again tonight. You think you can find us one?" "I don't envy you that game," Clint says with a slow shake of his head. "But you play what you have. I'll get you--" He stops and stares at Wendy, his brown eyes wide. It only lasts a fraction of a second, and when he speaks it's casual, unconcerned. "Did you say tonight?" "Tonight," Wendy affirms. "Same time as before. Will that be a problem?" Clint watches Wendy steadily, then shifts his gaze back to the game shelf, though his eyes do not focus on it fully. "No," he says finally. "No. I'll make it happen." 'Thank you,' Wendy signs in answer to this. And aloud again, earnestly: "You're really a lifesaver."