[i]Alright, good start, Harold. Now keep it up.[/i] After a few minutes of scanning the walls of their confines, the other members of their room burst into action. Another of his new roommates, Jewish, from the look of their headdress, began to approach him and spoke to him. "Hey, you have any idea what's going on?" Harold glanced over his shoulder and responded with a small smile, "[b]Well, not yet, but the point of experimentation is to find results, is it not? Do you think you could lend a hand?[/b]" He celebrated internally at the second set of hands. If this guy helped him, theoretically, they could cut the work time in half. Honestly, he could tell that there was most likely plenty more to be uncovered here that he was looking at on the short term.

Indeed, another of the men in the room pointed out a large flaw in his plan. Two, in fact. Harold let out a small sigh in frustration as he realized. [i]I should've thought to look under the beds or examine the words.[/i] He tried to maintain his neutrally positive expression as he spoke. "[b]Thanks! I'll go check that out now.[/b]" He walked over to the television, where he saw what appeared to be their only sort of actual clue. 

[b]BROKEN.[/b]

[i]What does it mean?[/i] The only broken thing that he saw was the television. Or perhaps the beds, given their relative uncomfortableness. He took a moment to thank his recently filed fingernails; they would serve him well in the task ahead. However, scratching at the words seemingly carved into the wall revealed nothing. It was almost as if they were somehow part of the original design of the wall. That was impossible, of course, but the wall remained its integrity even through desperate scratching. All the change that he noticed was a woman in a pink skirt sit up on her bed. Certainly, it was a difference from his regular attire, but each was entitled to their own style, he supposed. Personally, he was just glad that he still wore his black suit and purple tie. It gave him a sense of maturity and capability, despite their hopeless situation.

A new voice in the crowd was what knocked him out of a bit of a daze. Harold turned to see another man had woken up. He was happy to see that the newcomer got straight down to business. Even more so when he convinced the girl in the skirt to help them. "[b]Great. The more people we have searching, the better chance we have of actually finding something.[/b]" Speaking directly to the girl, he said, "[b]Do you think you could look under the empty beds? Just under the sheets, mattresses, just in case whoever stuck us in here thought they could pull a fast one over us.[/b]" Realizing that his scratching was getting him nowhere, he voiced this observation to the group. "[b]The walls aren't peeling away near the words. Somehow, it's like they're part of the wall. I'm not sure how.[/b]"

As he moved back to examining the walls, another young woman woke up into a sitting position. Harold turned to her and said nonchalantly, "[b]As long as you're up, would you mind checking under your bed for anything? We're just trying to get a scope of the place.[/b]" While he turned to the wall and continued, he really started to notice was the difference between everyone in this room. Most serial killers had some sort of signature, but their serial kidnapper seemed to lack this. It was clear that everyone in here was not of the same appearance, gender, religion, or age. [i]So why were we the ones to be targeted?[/i] Pushing such thoughts aside, he continued to examine the walls. It seemed to be the only thing he could do without making himself look and feel helpless.

OOC: I'm pretty sure I've at least mentioned everyone who has posted so far, so it seems like an exercise in futility to tag everyone. Carry on.