A Day in the Life

[no_fastolfe]

Who: Vasilia and you.
When: Between about six in the morning and ten at night
What: A day in the life.
Where: See the comments

Comments

The Cafeteria - Breakfast

[no_fastolfe]

It's early; Vasilia eats in a corner where nobody can come up behind her, without much relish. She eats with resignation; no matter how good the food is, it's not her food and not her home.

The Cafeteria - Breakfast

[shortsghtedlove]

Rassilon at down in the corner as well, partly for the same reason as Vasilia and partly to simply avoid most of the humans. He stares at his breakfast, oh so very unhappy. He takes the first bite and grimaces.

"Terrible." Said quietly enough that he may just have thought aloud, but loud enough for her to hear.

The Cafeteria - Breakfast

[no_fastolfe]

"I was to understand that your warden cooked for you," Vasilia said, the sneer oddly absent from her voice. It was early, and she was tired, and waking into her confinement was always difficult. There was only a certain low-grade wariness, a disinclination to believe-- however much she might find she wished to-- that someone was offering non-hostile interaction.

Re: The Cafeteria - Breakfast

[shortsghtedlove]

"Once a week. And if you'd paid attention to what's going on, you would have noticed that I announced that she's gone just a few days ago." He poked the food with a knife, looking even more unhappy.

The Library - afternoon

[no_fastolfe]

Her usual stack of programming books is about five high; she strikes at random, with a pattern only she understands. From APL to VBA, Cobol to Positronic-A. She takes notes, again, in a shorthand that's almost code itself, it's so truncated.

She hunches over her book, but from time to time looks up as if she expects to be someone there.

The library remains, despite her expectations, void of her household robots.

The Library - afternoon

[strangehstorian]

There will, occasionally, be someone there when she looks up. Three feet tall and chipper.

"Need anything?"

The Library - afternoon

[no_fastolfe]

Vasilia startled slightly-- but instantly squared her shoulders, lifting her chin. Chromie, the woman who had told her that she was dead. It was something that Vasilia was coming to accept, painfully and slowly, but not something she liked-- the idea of it was coming to sadden and frighten her.

Odd thoughts for a pleasant afternoon in a library, over a manual of Perl. And an odd response to a habitual denizen of the library.

"I'm quite well, thank you, unless I have taken a book I was not meant to."

Re: The Library - afternoon

[strangehstorian]

"Nope! Everything is open to everyone."

Her expression doesn't flicker much, but she remembers.

"How are you doing here?"

The Lab - when she should be eating dinner

[no_fastolfe]

She has access to one computer workstation, and she'll make the best of it. She flashes between screens as the inspiration takes her; her role-her-own text program, in which she takes notes, her iterated prisoner-and-warden game, and the game of life when she wants to slack off.

Tell no-one.

Sooner or later she'll hear her own stomach grumbling, but she's used to having robots to remind her to eat every few hours, and she hasn't broken herself into self-sufficiency yet.

The Lab

[drdaytimetelly]

John had waited....and waited....and then had waited some more, but it looked like Sherlock wasn't going to be waking up any time soon. It was both inconvenient and annoying - and quite possibly on purpose. Not that John gave Sherlock that much credit, but deliberately falling asleep to avoid boredom or actual hard work sounded like something the detective might do.

After spending another night prodding at Sherlock's head and awkwardly positioning him on the settee (apparently the worry of bedsores wasn't a thing with these "Barge comas"), John went in search of his friend's inmate. It was dinner time, so he naturally, and without any success, he tried the dining hall. Nothing. So John tried her cabin, and the top deck, and then the library, and when he couldn't find trace of her in any of these places did he finally think to search the lab.

He stood in the doorway and coughed softly to try and gain her attention.

The Lab

[no_fastolfe]

Vasilia frowned, looking up. There was a stranger in the lab, not one of the people she was used to coming and going-- when she noticed them at all.

She tabbed briskly out of her note-taking program.

"Are you looking for someone?"

The Lab

[drdaytimetelly]

"Uh, yes, actually." John took this general acknowledgement of his presence as an invitation to step inside the lab - she'd spoken and looked up, that was more than he'd usually get from Sherlock on a good day.

"Vasilia, is it? I'm a friend of your warden. He's..." Passed out? Pretending to sleep? Actually probably in severe danger but they'd all have to settle for not knowing the cause or blaming it on magic? "He's in a coma."