Stekkmen — Roleplayer Guild

[yurilyza]: dinner time

---

Before anyone could continue on their conversation, an ear-piercing buzzer penetrated the room, causing most to jump, except Ryan. The faceless guards transitioned like clockwork into their activity, seemingly knowing who is going where. Guards called out various names and began assembling the D-Class into groups to be transported elsewhere.

"D-90715, D-01984, and D-98970, you're with me." A burly guard commanded from the balcony. Jeremy, Dax, and Ryan would recognize their names. 

Ryan looked at Jeremy. "Just, uh, keep cool, alright? Should be fine. Should be, yeah, should be good." He seemed calm, but his voice had an edge of agitation to it.

The guard approached, assault rifle in hand, and looked at the three of them. He jerked his head backwards, and began to walk, expecting them to follow. 

If they did, the trio would find themselves in an elevator, close quarters with the guard. It hummed as it descended. Yes, it was very unusual, an armed guard, outnumbered three to one, alone, in an elevator with three inmate who were free to use their hands. Yet, his casual and commanding demeanor seemed to indicate that he knew something they didn't. Blase, he leaned against the back of the sparse, metallic elevator. The button pad was digital and there was no floor indicator.

Eventually, the elevator unceremoniously halted it's ascent. The doors silently slid open and revealed an empty concrete hallway lined with steel doors. 

"Go on." He indicated with the barrel of the assault rifle. "Turn at the second left. Don't stop and don't talk to anyone." 

He followed silently behind them as they walked. They passed an intersection, and far down the hallway on their left a lone man in a research coat was talking to someone through a steel door. Despite the unintelligible echoing murmers of his speech and clacking of the guards boots, the hallway was utterly silent. Ryan said nothing, leading the group and turning left at the indicated junction.

Ryan seemed to have a clue of where to stop, but the guard told Jeremy and Dax to stop at a steel door. "Doctor Smith will explain everything you need to do. Listen to what she says."

The door slid open to reveal a large room. The most dominating feature of this concrete, white room, was a small, 5 foot high, three foot wide door. Above the door, painted on the white concrete in bold black letters: SCP- 004. Opposite the small steel door was a high balcony with no way to get up from this side. Safe, high and above the trio of visitors, was a woman dressed in a lab coat and small glasses on the end of her nose. She had a notepad in one hand, and a pencil in the other. Flanking her were two non-descript guards. In front of her was a console with things on it the D-Class could not see.

"SCP- 004 requires this cell to be cleaned." she said bluntly. "Janitorial devices are supplied there." Following her eyes would reveal two mops and a moveable bucket full of water. 

"The substance is unpleasant to look at and to smell. However, gas masks are found to have inconsistent effects on vision, and limit line of sight. These two things are very important, so please try not to let the smell overwhelm you." Her eyes flickered between Jeremy, Dax, and Ryan.

"Two of you must maintain eye contact with the entity inside the cell at all times. Breaking eye contact with the being inside the cell puts your life at serious risk. As long as one of you keep eye contact with the entity inside the cell, your success is assured. A camera will monitor your progress, but know that I am very busy and am an inconsistent provider of vision on the entity. I will alert you once your job of cleaning is deemed to be satisfactory and you will be allowed out of the cell and returned to your own dormitory for rest. Deliberate amonst yourselves who will be mopping and who will be watching the entity. Blinking counts as losing eye contact with the entity."

Ryan nodded, and looked back at the two of them. "Okay, I've done this before. I've never even seen it move, so there's no problem." He eyed the door to the cell suspiciously.

"Okay...here's how I did it last time. One guy on the mop, cleaning, me and this other guy called out when we needed to blink. Then, we just do that until mop guy cleans the whole room. Which one of you is gonna be mop guy?" He waited for their response.

The same woman who had commanded Donald earlier and whom he had called Missy approached Donald, Claudette, and Zhang. "D-12493, D-60100, and D-50540, you're up." 

Zhang looked at the other two and smiled nervously. "All right, let's go." 

The guard led the three of them down a few busy hallways. Guards walked to and fro, D-Class following behind. Researchers talked with various personnel. "Don't talk to anyone, D-Class. They're way too smart for you, anyway." 

Eventually, they came to a stop at a simple wooden door. She rapped the wooden door with her knuckles. "Got D-Class, for you, Mr. Smith." 

A voice inside gave his acknowledgement, and the woman opened the door for the three to enter. 

Inside was a small room with three student like desks, and one teacher like desk. Behind the large desk was a older black gentlemen with a friendly face. "Hello, D-Class. I am Doctor Smith. I believe it is all your first assignment today?" He stood up, holding three packets of paper.

"Your task is simple. Complete this test. Which ever way you want. I'll be in the room. I won't be able to help you, but I will be monitoring your progress. Take a seat, please, and we can begin."

Zhang looked at the two of them, shrugged, and sat down. The door closed, and the class was left alone.

Once the other two had followed suit, the researcher passed out the three packets, and a pencil. On his desk was a pencil sharpener, tissues, and hand santizer. He also had a digital pad, which he scrolled through busily once he sat back down.

The packet was simple, black text on white paper. At the top, there was a spot for a name. In the center, in simple, small text, were the words "Personal Improvement Test".

Upon opening the to the first page, Claudette and Donald would both find academic questions, and a spot to write in a one sentence answer. 

1. Who was the second president of the United States?

2. In order to find the perimeter of a triangle, you must use this theorem:

3. Lying under oath in court is known as:

These questions continued for a long while.

23. This individual was the one who secretly gave information to the police which helped lead to your arrest:

24. Would you rather kill your mother, or your father?

25. Once, a man told you advice that never left you. What was it?

The questions began to become more and more personal. Things that no one could ever have known, things related to Claudette's business and her life. Questions of morality, of facts of her own life, of hypothetical situations involving real people, of real situations involving real people...how Claudette answered them was up to her.

(Rune_Alchemist, somehow this test knows things about Claudette that few other people do. Feel free to make them up, but they should be deeply personal and perhaps disturbing. They begin to get accusatory, personal, and subtly hostile. Write questions that would get under Claudette's skin.)

26. This person was your very first subject.

27. In order to keep a being conscious while surgery is being enacted, one would have to do the following procedures.

28. This particular philosophical oath is the one you abandoned.

The questions began to become more accusatory, personal. Things related to Donald's research that few could know, subjects Donald thought no one else could even comprehend or understand. They questioned him on hypotheticals, on philospophy, on morals, while becoming more hostile in nature.

(FalloutJack, this test knows things about Donald that almost no one else does. The questions began to get accusatory, putting him on the spot. The sheer intimacy of the questions could be disturbing. Make up questions that would get under Donald's skin.)

"D-77732, D-22421, and D-82493, with me." A short male guard said, holding an assault rifle. Christina worriedly halted her brief conversation and looked at Robert and Lenny, before getting up and following the security personnel.

It was not a very long walk. The group would follow the man down a short flight of stairs, before turning through a steel door and into a large, concrete room. There was a device that looked like a drone, a steel supplies container next to the far wall, and a computer console.
There were also four people who looked like researchers, three additional guards, and what looked like some kind of stuffed S.W.A.T suit propped up in the corner.

"Hello, D-Class. I am Doctor Smith," an old white gentleman said. "For your first assignment, I'd like to begin with, eh, you two," he pointed at Christina and Lenny, "to stand over there on that wall and don't do anything 'till one of us says so."

His wrinkled eyes stared at Robert. "Now, young man, eh, D-77732, I'd like to ask you sit in that steel chair over there." The steel chair was nailed to the floor, and, noticeably, had restaints on the legs and the arms. "It's okay, trust me. Everything will be fine. The restraints are for your safety." The man said cooly.

[MagnumD0ng] not sure heaviside
[MagnumD0ng] maybe its just the batch i managed to breach. bunch of hihg timers

[0o0o0]: It's possible that they group these files together into severity of crimes, but it's also possible it's a coincidence. I'm sure there are plenty of more 'regular' criminals in other places. I doubt there's only eleven inmates in the entire canteen.

---

Indeed, there were several dozen inmates in the canteen. All of which were 30 dayers, by coincidence or by design? Who could say. What many of them had in common was paying particular attention to what Ryan said. He looked at Jeremy, eating his eggs. Zhang spoke first.

"Yeah, it's just Ryan. Ryan's the only one who's been here longer, I think. You still haven't told us, Ryan. What have they got you doin' round here?"

Ryan gulped the rest of his orange juice and absent mindedly squeezed the cardboard carton between his hand. His quickly eyes left his inmates and to a guard standing on a balcony. Those perceptive would notice the faceless guard slowly but firmly shake his head. The inmate looked back at Jeremy.

"Oh, you know, stuff. Lab stuff. Sweeping things, picking up things...I'm sure there's like, chemicals in them. Or something. I dunno." He spoke unconvincingly, losing eye contact with his fellows and picking at his food.

Christina protested with some of the others, speaking for the first time. "Come on, Ryan, really?"

"Look, look, I'm sure they'll tell you." Ryan said defensively, with a tinge of worry in his voice. "You know, you might be doin' somethin' different from what I do. I dunno, I dunno anything. You know, if one of you go with me in there I can tell you more, probably, but, you know..." He trailed off. One might be able to sense the attention of the guards on this particular conversation.

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