War Week

[mockmods]

[A week has gone and past, as has the first of your number. The Researcher revealing himself, more or less, by punishing Patches, the Trusty, for pushing an unclear boundary.]

[And yet, routine seems to have returned. The Researcher makes morning and evening announcements as if nothing has happened. Meals are served in the dining hall. The copies of Oregon Trail in the computer lab now have a text-only mode for some reason? Penny has not been seen since Friday, and attempts to access the Security Room have been fruitless.]

[But overall, life in the Facility has remained unchanged. But the atmosphere is getting tenser - sooner or later something is going to break.]

Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday Thursday

Comments

[biolence]

Not brown.

[eudaimonikos]

Huh!

[Michael reaches out to turn the heat up higher. But it's already as high as it goes.]

I assume it's not going to go back to yellow at this point?

[biolence]

Nope. It's fucked, dude.

[not forked. fucked.]

Better start over and turn the heat down.

[eudaimonikos]

[Shrug! He...peels the burnt egg directly off the extremely hot pan and puts it on the countertop like some kind of cave troll.]

You probably can't tell, but I don't really eat human food much. Definitely never any I've made myself.

[biolence]

[A normal person would probably nag him into putting it in the garbage but Rosa Diaz doesn't care, actually, about that shit.]

It's whatever. You gotta learn to adapt, man. You ever had huevos rancheros?

[eudaimonikos]

Not at all! In hell, we mostly serve things like...tuna salad that came from a hospital vending machine in rural Michigan.

[biolence]

That's fucking disgusting.

[She slams the rest of her glass of vodka and then crosses the kitchen to start rummaging in the fridge. She pulls out tomatoes, onions, and then from the cupboard a can of chili, tortilla chips, and refried beans.]

These ingredients are shitty. [But they'll suffice, clearly, since she starts throwing things together in a pan.]

[eudaimonikos]

Yeah. It's Hell.

[What were they gonna do, have good food? Michael wanders along to watch her do whatever she's doing, apparently with genuine interest.]

I did make a fake Heaven to torture people in once, we had okay food there. Lotta frozen yogurt, Hawaiian pizza...it couldn't be good still, obviously.

[biolence]

[Rosa fixes him with a stare as she chops tomatoes, unwavering and unblinking.]

Frozen yogurt is ice cream for people who've given up.

[eudaimonikos]

Exactly!

[He likes this one! She gets it!]

[biolence]

[She glances up out of the corner of her eye, and there might be a hint of a smirk.]

You're an asshole. I kinda like you.

[eudaimonikos]

Nice to hear.

[Michael smiles a little, then turns his attention back to the stuff in the pan.]

So, this is good food?

[biolence]

The best. It's the food I grew up with.

[She's hastily throwing together ingredients, but it looks and smells good.]

You ever had Mexican?

[eudaimonikos]

Nooooo, but once I saw a restaurant that was simultaneously both a Taco Bell...and a Pizza Hut!

[He presents this information as if he's a small child describing meeting Mickey Mouse at Disneyland or something.]

[biolence]

That's—

[Rosa was honestly about to say "fucked up," but something strikes her. Maybe it's been a little too long in this place, maybe she's missing home more than she thought...]

Hilarious.

[eudaimonikos]

Right? Humans come up with the most remarkable ideas!