After what seemed like an eternity of being amused, irritable, bored, in pain, in excruciating pain, and any combination of those, Guybrush was met by the same soldier who had led him to the cafeteria. He wasn't offered a trip to the Sun Room to check the bulletin board, but didn't push for it anyway. That would have been more walking, and moving
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"Not a damn clue to either of them. People keep claiming this is Jersey, but it's no New Jersey I've ever seen." And he'd seen more of the state than he ever wanted to. That and the chemical barony it called a next-door neighbor. "Smelled, really. Air's too fucking clean to be twentieth-century Earth at all."
Naming the century still sounded pretentious, almost 90% of the way through it. (Rounded off because no one wanted an asshole who'd insist the new millennium started with 2001 at their NYE party. Even if he cared, S.T. liked parties. Especially when other people threw them and he just had to show up.) Here it mattered. He could be talking to someone who'd never seen a car, or who thought burning gasoline was a fairy tale told to children who didn't set their solar panels out to charge.
"I know people have gotten over the walls at night. No matter how far you get, you wake up here in the morning. Might be something worth finding within range, though." He shrugged. He'd leave mapping the trackless wilderness to guys who still thought going out in the woods and not shaving was synonymous with masculinity. Like Dolmacher. No gun prowess or tech-industry was going to make girls throw themselves at him, and he was never going to figure out why.
"Don't come through the Sun Room, though. It's a death trap after hours. Too many places for an ambush to hide, and only one way through." He'd gotten the same warning his first night here. He'd ignored it. It'd taken way too many wasted nights to drive it through his stubborn skull.
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Listening to the other man's words, the corner of Facilier's mouth curled into a sneer. The stranger was knowledgeable, but his attitude was certainly toeing the line with the rattled doctor...
"Young man, do you kiss your mother with that mouth of yours?" he remarked in a dry tone, turning back to gaze about at the flakes that swirled around him, "And I don't need to hear that warning twice. I had the misfortune of being led through that room last night," he added grimly, "Had quite the close call with a deranged boy with a sword..."
Catching a glimpse of a pack of soldiers march by, Facilier repressed a nervous gulp. "And just what do y'all mean that everyone just wakes up here in the morning?" Facilier questioned, his anxiety building slightly as the snow and military presence increased around him, this was all too unfamiliar for him... "How is that even possible? Surely there ought to be a way outta here...?"
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"Wander around, think you're getting somewhere, and presto bingo you're back in bed and it's morning. Don't ask me how they do it. It'd need a crackerjack quantum physicist to get started on that one. I'm just a humble chemist." A damn good one, but he wasn't about to be inventing teleportation today. Besides, someone already had. All they had to do now was figure out where the keys to the transporter room were hidden.
"You find that, you'll have a million best friends you never knew you hadn't met yet. You just get here, man?"
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