Night 47: Decontamination Room
[from here]
"I'll show you when I can put this thing down." He jiggled the toolkit. In answer, the flashlight beam went drunk-driver on a motorcycle for a second, and a few stray pills rattled in the bottom. Nothing budged. S.T. had packed the thing tight. This place made for slipshod data collection, but he wasn't going to go queering the results intentionally.
"But you said blinded? That's another one for the Two Thousand and Margin of Error Landel's Senses Census. Survey says: one hundred percent, if E.S.P. counts." That was stretching things since he didn't have Javert's notes; hell, the next to last one he'd helped drag out had been too tranked out to spill details. Or successfully tell them all to fuck off. "I know, I know, and I'm not about to pull out the crystal vibrations. This was straight from three of the most rational guys here." And Recluse, given this place's fanatical adherence to Murphy's Law, was likely on the meditative path of the Eightfold Phantom Limbs. So extra-sensory senses might be standard-issue, or coffee-shop bodywork to him. He shrugged, and waited for Carter to go all geek freshman again.
"I'll show you when I can put this thing down." He jiggled the toolkit. In answer, the flashlight beam went drunk-driver on a motorcycle for a second, and a few stray pills rattled in the bottom. Nothing budged. S.T. had packed the thing tight. This place made for slipshod data collection, but he wasn't going to go queering the results intentionally.
"But you said blinded? That's another one for the Two Thousand and Margin of Error Landel's Senses Census. Survey says: one hundred percent, if E.S.P. counts." That was stretching things since he didn't have Javert's notes; hell, the next to last one he'd helped drag out had been too tranked out to spill details. Or successfully tell them all to fuck off. "I know, I know, and I'm not about to pull out the crystal vibrations. This was straight from three of the most rational guys here." And Recluse, given this place's fanatical adherence to Murphy's Law, was likely on the meditative path of the Eightfold Phantom Limbs. So extra-sensory senses might be standard-issue, or coffee-shop bodywork to him. He shrugged, and waited for Carter to go all geek freshman again.