Experiment: Day 3
Curt opened his eyes, a scream still locked in his throat.
‘Lights,’ he choked, ‘fuck, lights, require: lights.’ Continue reading “21 – Contradiction”
Stef starred. ‘Lol. Wut.’
Thick rubber gloves appeared on his hands. ‘I’d appreciate some help, if you’re not gonna puke again.’
‘What precisely are we–’ She waved her hands in front of her. ‘Wait. Wait. Wait.’
‘Computer, freeze program.’
Stef stared at her newly narc’ed self in the bathroom mirror and roughly calculated how long she could hide in a bathroom without someone inquiring as to her medical condition. It’d been fifteen minutes already. Twenty might be pushing it.
For the thirty-eighth time, she looked to the window, not quite able to convince herself that plummeting however many stories and the resultant grievous bodily harm was better than interacting with humans.
Curt felt Stef let go of his hand as Ryan’s office blurred into view. He required a fresh uniform, the few crumbs of breakfast disappearing. Three months, and she was still relying on tactile contact to reliably shift things other than herself. Shifting something away from herself she could do all right, but when it came to bringing people or objects with her…she still needed touch.
It was strange, considering how anti-touch she was when it came to almost everything else. Everything that wasn’t in an “exemption category”. He’d made one of her exemption categories, he’d slipped past the impregnable wall that she kept up, and stopped him from making another worst decision of his life. Continue reading “09 – Meanwhile”
‘If I keep getting you as a partner, I’m going to have to give you my phone number,’ Curt muttered.
This time, the training simulation was an ugly patch of scrub – the smell of stagnant water filled Stef’s nostrils and made her want to gag. The water was coming from what had been a gully, but was now just a blocked-off unintended catchment area for rainwater. The gully of eternal stench.
‘We live in the same building, do you really think I want or need your number?’
‘Seriously, newbie, what’s your issue?’ Continue reading “36 – Evil Trees”
Stef stared at her newly narc-ed self in the bathroom mirror, and made rough calculations as to how long she could hide in a bathroom without someone inquiring as to her medical condition. It’d been fifteen minutes already, she wasn’t sure that Ryan was enough of a gentleman to keep out of the ladies’ room.
For the thirty-eighth time she looked to the window, and sadly wasn’t able to convince herself that plummeting six stories and having to deal with grievous bodily harm was better than interacting with humans. Continue reading “16 – Of Zeppelins and Chaos”