006. [visual]/[location: central sanctuary] my feet they find these landmines
"So! We almost got our shit blown up by a psychopath, fucking terrible, I know." Judith opens her transmission with this, her tablet set up on one of the long tables she'd arranged in one of the larger rooms around the entrance room itself; she figures this is as close to neutral ground as they come, and it's the easiest assembly point to get everyone organized around.
"But the problems never end, so while Doctor Dickface is waiting for his trial, us people dealing with the objects from that motel I keep talking about? Yeah, guys, we're fucking cursed, you may have noticed have everything you do is getting screwed up." Judith dangles her key, by way of demonstration. "I, for one, am sick of fucking waiting around for the answer to fall into my lap, so we're having a meeting - and that's all of us, you understand? I am not risking the entire group because one of you doesn't fucking want to play ball. I realize not everybody can make it here, some of you are injured or sick or whatever, but--you know, do that videophone thing, or at least send me a fucking sick note so I know you're alive and in on this."
"So meeting, right here in Central Sanctuary, in three hours. I put up signs and if you still get fucking lost somehow, just get in touch and I'll walk you down here." She pauses. "And there's popcorn. And refreshments--yeah, like blood."
Judith has, indeed, put up signs, in red marker on large pieces of poster paper, and arranged the meeting room with tables and chairs sufficient for double the number of people she's aware have objects. If this doesn't accommodate everyone, well, of course there are more chairs.
"But the problems never end, so while Doctor Dickface is waiting for his trial, us people dealing with the objects from that motel I keep talking about? Yeah, guys, we're fucking cursed, you may have noticed have everything you do is getting screwed up." Judith dangles her key, by way of demonstration. "I, for one, am sick of fucking waiting around for the answer to fall into my lap, so we're having a meeting - and that's all of us, you understand? I am not risking the entire group because one of you doesn't fucking want to play ball. I realize not everybody can make it here, some of you are injured or sick or whatever, but--you know, do that videophone thing, or at least send me a fucking sick note so I know you're alive and in on this."
"So meeting, right here in Central Sanctuary, in three hours. I put up signs and if you still get fucking lost somehow, just get in touch and I'll walk you down here." She pauses. "And there's popcorn. And refreshments--yeah, like blood."
Judith has, indeed, put up signs, in red marker on large pieces of poster paper, and arranged the meeting room with tables and chairs sufficient for double the number of people she's aware have objects. If this doesn't accommodate everyone, well, of course there are more chairs.