"Die, you door-opening dot-product!" he screamed at the handle, giving it another bash of his drawer. Pausing for a moment, panting with exertion, he reached out with his other hand to jiggle the knob.
Nothing.
Trial 3: Still locked.
He moved on and, thorough man that he was, applied the same methods on the next two doors, switching sides as he went and progressively worked his way down the hall.When he switched back to the left-hand side though, his efforts were suddenly met with a different result.
Trial 4: Locked Trial 5: Locked Trial 6: Haha, take that, you parenthetical partition!
Cackling madly, Sho didn't even notice when the drawer shattered in half as the door to the Janitor's Closet swung inwards before him. Taking a moment to tighten the shirt tied around his head up again - it had loosened with the sweating he was doing from running and destroying and calculating - Sho walked back over to the sheet on which all his other items were laid, throwing one half of the drawer on and kicking the other pieces across the floor to join it. Everything together now, he pulled it all up by the sheet and dragged it back over to the now-open door. Reaching it, he took a moment to catch his breath before diving into the unknown.
[Waiting at the door to the Janitor's closet in case of NS-characters]
Now fully decked out like some kind of super robot-prototype (or perhaps the composite of several maintenance projects gone awry), Sho walked back into the hallways, sporting twin beams of light from his forearms. Taking a hold of his two wheeled contraptions piles with valuable factors, he only absently noted the room across from him was now occupied. This was an irrelevant bit of data though, as his next target was back down the hall.
Those washing machines would make a good base for his artwork.
Now the head of a column of numerous items, Sho dragged the duct-taped train of bags and sheets of metal on wheels towards the next open room, ignoring the young man down the hall or the people in the other closets.
Kicking open to door to the Mail Room, he headed in, articles in tow.
Retinue expanded yet again both in volume and in mass, Sho came out of the mail room, pushing the cast with the metal sheets and electronics before him, his arms encircling the bag on the stool and the hand truck taped around his waist so that it trailed behind him, its bags of materials swaying precariously.
It was a work of engineering genius, if he said so himself.
So encumbered, he clattered back down into the main hallway, twin arm-flashlights lighting the way.
Nothing.
Trial 3: Still locked.
He moved on and, thorough man that he was, applied the same methods on the next two doors, switching sides as he went and progressively worked his way down the hall.When he switched back to the left-hand side though, his efforts were suddenly met with a different result.
Trial 4: Locked
Trial 5: Locked
Trial 6: Haha, take that, you parenthetical partition!
Cackling madly, Sho didn't even notice when the drawer shattered in half as the door to the Janitor's Closet swung inwards before him. Taking a moment to tighten the shirt tied around his head up again - it had loosened with the sweating he was doing from running and destroying and calculating - Sho walked back over to the sheet on which all his other items were laid, throwing one half of the drawer on and kicking the other pieces across the floor to join it. Everything together now, he pulled it all up by the sheet and dragged it back over to the now-open door. Reaching it, he took a moment to catch his breath before diving into the unknown.
[Waiting at the door to the Janitor's closet in case of NS-characters]
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Now fully decked out like some kind of super robot-prototype (or perhaps the composite of several maintenance projects gone awry), Sho walked back into the hallways, sporting twin beams of light from his forearms. Taking a hold of his two wheeled contraptions piles with valuable factors, he only absently noted the room across from him was now occupied. This was an irrelevant bit of data though, as his next target was back down the hall.
Those washing machines would make a good base for his artwork.
[To here]
Reply
Now the head of a column of numerous items, Sho dragged the duct-taped train of bags and sheets of metal on wheels towards the next open room, ignoring the young man down the hall or the people in the other closets.
Kicking open to door to the Mail Room, he headed in, articles in tow.
[To here]
Reply
Retinue expanded yet again both in volume and in mass, Sho came out of the mail room, pushing the cast with the metal sheets and electronics before him, his arms encircling the bag on the stool and the hand truck taped around his waist so that it trailed behind him, its bags of materials swaying precariously.
It was a work of engineering genius, if he said so himself.
So encumbered, he clattered back down into the main hallway, twin arm-flashlights lighting the way.
[To here]
Reply
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