♖ 1
[a tall man in steel-colored body armor with yellow trim is currently very engaged with perusing the brochures at the information kiosk, a holographic version hovering at a comfortable height for him to read. after a moment, he waves a hand to dismiss the brochure, but underneath that helmet, he's blinking, unsure if someone is just pulling his leg or...]
[frowning, he starts looking around again at what's around him: the random buildings that shouldn't exist but do and outer space in every single direction.] This...can't be real. [in his heart, though, he has a feeling the brochure is telling the truth. it's all far too elaborate and thorough for it to be a lie, and the appearance of the shop on the Mother of Invention makes complete sense now (though he has a strong urge to report it to the Director anyway).]
[very quickly, duty supersedes any other curiosity he has--and anyway, he's satisfied the need for initial reconnaissance, so it's time to report in! he taps the side of his helmet, activating his long-range comms systems]
Come in, Command, this is Agent Washington. I seem to have...um... [he falters, unsure of how to go about explaining that he's suddenly on a plane of existence that is the meeting point for many universes without sounding like he's gone completely insane. so, he just settles for establishing contact and going from there] Command, do you read? [he pauses for a second, hoping for some reply, but only hears static. this doesn't please him, not one bit.] I repeat, Command, do you copy? [and again, he gets no answer. he grumbles under his breath]
[slowly] Okay...I'm going to assume everyone has gone to get a cup of coffee from the mess hall. Because we all know how great that stuff is. [he waits for a reaction to his sarcastic remark, but gets none]
What the hell?! [he lets go of the long-range comms button, his arm flopping to his side. his annoyance with those back home seem to have pushed everything else he read in the brochure completely out of his mind for the moment.] Someone should always be monitoring the comms! That's basic protocol. The Director is going to hear about this when I get back.
[frowning, he starts looking around again at what's around him: the random buildings that shouldn't exist but do and outer space in every single direction.] This...can't be real. [in his heart, though, he has a feeling the brochure is telling the truth. it's all far too elaborate and thorough for it to be a lie, and the appearance of the shop on the Mother of Invention makes complete sense now (though he has a strong urge to report it to the Director anyway).]
[very quickly, duty supersedes any other curiosity he has--and anyway, he's satisfied the need for initial reconnaissance, so it's time to report in! he taps the side of his helmet, activating his long-range comms systems]
Come in, Command, this is Agent Washington. I seem to have...um... [he falters, unsure of how to go about explaining that he's suddenly on a plane of existence that is the meeting point for many universes without sounding like he's gone completely insane. so, he just settles for establishing contact and going from there] Command, do you read? [he pauses for a second, hoping for some reply, but only hears static. this doesn't please him, not one bit.] I repeat, Command, do you copy? [and again, he gets no answer. he grumbles under his breath]
[slowly] Okay...I'm going to assume everyone has gone to get a cup of coffee from the mess hall. Because we all know how great that stuff is. [he waits for a reaction to his sarcastic remark, but gets none]
What the hell?! [he lets go of the long-range comms button, his arm flopping to his side. his annoyance with those back home seem to have pushed everything else he read in the brochure completely out of his mind for the moment.] Someone should always be monitoring the comms! That's basic protocol. The Director is going to hear about this when I get back.