| Structured Variables; Everyone is bound by something. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 11 2008, 10:00 PM (3,134 Views) | |
 Dude2000
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Jan 11 2008, 10:38 PM Post #16 |
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Storm looked away and scanned the room. The usual suspects, for the most part. Mello was staring at him, he noticed. A patient walked up to him. "Sir! That group is planning something!" the patient whispered. "I know." Storm responded coldly. "...do I still get a reward?" The patient asked, "Was the information useful to me?" "No..." "Then you know your answer Gore." The patient walked away moaping. Storm did not give him a second look. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| SMBEffect | Jan 11 2008, 10:38 PM Post #17 |
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"Hello Tahu," Aspen said, his eyes wandering to the floor. He rested his arms on his legs and supported his head with his hands, "I need a glass of water." This came as no suprise to anyone in the room. Aspen was always asking for water, even when he was not thirsty. It gave him a sense of understanding at times. And then, when the water was gone, he returned to his normal state. |
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| Twilight Sage | Jan 11 2008, 10:43 PM Post #18 |
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Knight went into a different room, which he could see in, but no one could see out. Today, he decided to look at a singular subject: Mello. He opened a file, and read what the file stated: " 'Subject: Mello. Seems to feel nothing at all, and has tried multiple killings, mainly upon himself.' Let's see what happens today." he spoke as he watched the subjects interact. |
  Top one is by Crash, and the bottom one is by RunawayRed. Thanks to the both of you! | |
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| Malceure | Jan 11 2008, 10:43 PM Post #19 |
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Mello stood up abruptly from his spot in the corner, and walked over to Storm, coffee cup still in hand. Mello: "Hello sir. Sleeping well?" He didn't smile, but it was obvious that he was mocking Storm. |
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Dude2000
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Jan 11 2008, 10:47 PM Post #20 |
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Storm turned to Mello and stared at him, not saying a word. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| Twilight Sage | Jan 11 2008, 10:48 PM Post #21 |
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Knight looked over at Mello and smiled. "This is getting interesting. Let's see what happens next." He seemed to be as excited as a boy in a toy store. |
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Top one is by Crash, and the bottom one is by RunawayRed. Thanks to the both of you! | |
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| Malceure | Jan 11 2008, 10:52 PM Post #22 |
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Mello turned to the side, but continued watching Storm with his eyes. He was mimicking the actions of birds, who will often stare at something with one eye to show that their are cautious of them. Mello used this simply to irritate Storm even more. Mello: "Mind if I use the bathroom? My hands are filthy." Mello's face was still serious, but one could imagine a smirk across his face. |
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Dude2000
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Jan 11 2008, 10:54 PM Post #23 |
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Storm turned his one eye to him. "Of course." He gestured towards the restroom, while his body language made it clear he was going to escort Mello. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| Malceure | Jan 11 2008, 11:01 PM Post #24 |
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Mello finished his cup of coffee and handed it to Storm. Mello: "Make sure to wash it nicely, my dear chamber maiden." He proceeded to enter the lavatory, knowing Storm would follow his every movements. Mello simply had to make his actions as normal as possible. |
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Dude2000
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Jan 11 2008, 11:03 PM Post #25 |
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Storm followed him, after tossing the cup on the floor. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| Malceure | Jan 11 2008, 11:20 PM Post #26 |
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Mello entered the room slowly, closing the door behind him. He slipped a small piece of paper underneath the sink, and began washing his hands, keeping his as low a profile as possible. |
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Dude2000
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Jan 11 2008, 11:23 PM Post #27 |
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Storm watched Mello closely, his expression never changing and himself not moving a nanometer. As a matter of fact, it appeared he wasn't breathing because he remained so still. However, he did not keel over, so he apparently was. He then said something. "You know, there's no reason for the hate." |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| Malceure | Jan 11 2008, 11:29 PM Post #28 |
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Mello: "I thought it was the common relationship between a prisioner and his warden." Mello finished washing his hands, and dried his hands quickly with several paper towels. "We could be friends, if I had a name." Mello, everyone once and a while, would pry to get the name out of Storm, though this was more of a way method of distraction rather than an actual attempt. |
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Dude2000
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Jan 11 2008, 11:35 PM Post #29 |
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"If I wanted the patients to hate me, I'd do far worse things." Storm said. "As for a name, you know my conditions. I offer my name or a way out of this place in return for getting me laid-off on good terms." Storm smiled slightly, knowing that being laid-off would make him a millionaire according to his contract he signed with the company. |
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To be, or not to be: that is the question. To die, to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause. That makes calamity of so long life, for who would bear the whips and scorns of time when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover'd country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all... | |
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| Malceure | Jan 11 2008, 11:42 PM Post #30 |
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Mello: "There are only two possible ways for you to be laid-off. The first is if the United States experienced a major depression. But of course, then you would definitely not obtain your payment. The realistic method of such is for the untimely deaths of the higher-ups, but of course killing in person is suicide. I know from personal experience." |
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