One incredible feat of sleep-deprived bakery architecture. [23/??? artefacts collected]

[sadfreezingbrit_archive]

[ It's the event's second night, around four o'clock in the morning.

The narration trusts that at this point everyone has found somebody to room with and is tucked into bed.

Fast asleep as opposed to completely deprived of the same ever since the event started.

And definitely not building a donut replica of Westminster Abbey in one of the conference rooms.

Nope.

Not happening anywhere at all. ]

[ ...For everyone who does not enjoy a little action at night, Philip will emerge from his building project in the morning and can subsequently be found
a.) making coffee in the coffee area
b.) drinking coffee in one of the cubicles and
c.) throwing coffee at the backstairs spiders

If you hear him humming a strange tune, well, that's just the melody his hot beverage gives off, because who needs a sense of smell when you can have a constant soundtrack instead? ]

Comments

[libraritology.livejournal.com]

[Evelyn rubs a hand over her face and sighs.]

I know it isn't safe, I burned my foot earlier. I just can't find my way around without my shoes off. It's a...a vibration thing.

[She fumbles for a chair - each little desk seems to have one - and sits in it.]

...I don't even know what floor I'm on.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

This is the...

[ Luckily vibrations don't show how much worse for wear Philip currently looks. At least he hopes so. Nothing major, mind. Just bags under his eyes. Pale skin. And hands that are occasionally shakier than he'd like them to be. Sleep? What sleep?

He's been wandering at night. It's a little difficult to recall the exact location. ]

The third. It's the third floor.

[ A quick grab for the chair, making sure to turn it in the right direction for Evelyn. ]

...Does it work? How much can you actually "see"? Or... feel, I suppose.

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

Hm?

[ Blink. catch up with conversation, and we're there. ]

Oh, well. That... that is certainly possible. I may try it.

[ But he makes no move to go searching. Daniel really, really doesn't relish attempting to sleep without help again. The nightmares have never gone away, only been drowned. He feels a bit sick just thinking about it.

...Actually he feels a bit sick just on general principles. It's been a while since he last ate. Perhaps a donut wasn't the best way to get back on the wagon. ]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip isn't near attentive enough to analyse Daniel's state of well-being (or lack thereof), but the general 'should not be up at this hour' vibe seems clear.

When the coffee is done he pours himself a generous amount and hesitates at the second cup. ]

You should... really try to catch some sleep.

[ If Philip had to make an admission it would be that he's not entirely speaking out of concern for Daniel's well-being.

Fact remains that he isn't exactly thrilled about company right now. Talking, thinking, it all adds up to a terrible amount of tasks which his body no longer wants to execute.

Most of his system has been longing to shut down for hours now, but his brain refuses to do so without assistance- assistance which Philip can't provide without magical supply closets. ]

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

[ He nods noncommittally, reluctant to go back out into the dark corridor, reluctant to return to his unfamiliar room and unfamiliar bed and too-familiar dreams. That's if he even gets to sleep instead of staring at the ceiling for hours.

He balances the remainder of the donut listlessly in one hand. ]

Do you think so.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ He frowns. To bed or not to bed doesn't really strike him as something that should be discussed rather than done as needed. And the more Philip looks at Daniel the more he's starting to think that Daniel needs it badly. ]

...Is there something else?

[ Something else keeping Daniel from going to sleep, some other reason why he wants to stay up, something to be done, something needing to be said, something something along those lines is probably what is being asked here, but Philip's train of thoughts is no longer as easily understandable as one (he himself included) would like.

He pours the second cup of coffee and puts it down on the table. ]

[eatsyourscience.livejournal.com]

[It'll become a little more obvious as Souji just eyes the donut rather than eating it.]

I can't taste anything. [He puts the box up on the table so Philip can get into it.] Except looking at things is kind of like tasting them.

[He wrenches his eyes away from the most entrancing of donuts and looks at Philip.] What about you?

[libraritology.livejournal.com]

Not very well, I'm afraid.

[She turns with the chair, startled by the swiveling and clinging to the armrests.]

I-I can smell things a little better, even though the scents are rather unusual, and the floor is...it rumbles.

[Evelyn gestures to the ground and her feet, one of which is red from acid. It's exceedingly hard to avoid the acrid-smelling goo dripping from parts of the ceiling in the building when you're blind.]

I can't really see anything, just feel when people are there, and smell them. You're sort of...lemony. And something earthy, like mowed grass.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Lemony? [ Philip laughs. He knows somebody who'd get a kick out of hearing that. ]

...I actually can't smell anything at all, though I can hear the scents instead. The black acid is [ He frowns. ] like standing in the middle of a construction site, it's awful.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Sounds instead of smells. The labs are really noisy and...

[ He trails off. The phrase "a feast for the eyes" is circling very persistently through his mind and Philip feels increasingly uneasy about having Souji actually look at him.

He swipes a few donuts and hides behind the safety of Westminster Sugary. ]

...Do you taste everything you look at?

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

[ OH MAN COFFEE. He doesn't drink it yet, because it hasn't yet cooled down any, but he takes it and warms his hands.

And puts his sluggish mind to Philip's question. ]

Well...

[ He looks down at the surface of the coffee. Holding it sounds like a deep, loud hum that he has to raise his voice a little to speak over. The steam lightly touching his face is a whispering noise. He shivers.

Hey, he does actually have a sort-of excuse which is true in a way. This isn't the first time he's felt sick. He's been feeling off - a little nauseous, a little feverish - for the whole day. ]

I am a little out of sorts. Perhaps a cold. Sleep evades me.

[libraritology.livejournal.com]

[Philip's somebody would totally get a kick out of hearing that, dude, you have no idea.]

So it is acid, then? That would explain the sulphurous smell. It was like rotting eggs.

[Flesh-burning, rotting eggs. Delicious. She even cursed when she stepped in it, not that anyone is ever going to know about the use of expletives.]

I think the most frustrating part of all this is that I know everything looks different, but I can't see it.

[Also it's scary to be in the dark all the time. D: ]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Oh.

[ Wonderland may take their closets, but it will never take their trousers!

...On second thought, it could probably do that too. ]

Um...

[ No, you're right, that is not only not the point but also a terrible non sequitur.

The point is that Philip suddenly regrets having used the last of his pocketed pain pills in the afternoon. All it did for him was take some of the edge off (the sling may be gone, but the pain in his shoulder is doing just fine), but for Daniel (whose tolerance is undoubtedly not jacked up to ridiculous levels) it probably would have worked great.

Which finally brings us to his actual statement: ]

I've got...

[ He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bottle, 1/4 of it already empty. ]

Aspirin, if you need any.

[ Guess who's been raiding first aid kits ever since he realised the closets were gone. Go on, guess!

...And grab that bottle Philip just slid across the table, while you're at it. ]

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

That was mentioned in one of your books!

[ His heart isn't in great levels of enthusiasm. But his voice rises again, because his hands on the coffee mug keep getting louder and higher in pitch. He reaches over (not noticing his reddened palm) and picks up the bottle, which screams at him too. What the goddamn hell. ]

Relief from pain and fever, aches and pains, [ he reads from the label. Okay, it is sort of exciting to be using genuine future medicine, even if he's too tired and bleh-y to bubble with historian glee. ]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Sadly Philip's brain is not operating at a level that allows for a great deal of helpful conclusions such as the one he would arrive at if he added up
+ This morning he yelled at Dean because his new sense made him hear an unpleasant smell
+ Daniel hears sensations as sounds
+ Daniel is raising his voice while holding a hot cup of coffee
and derived a fair warning from it.

Alas, no such luck. Moving on. ]

You can take it, I've got another one. [ And another, just in case. ]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

I have absolutely no idea what it is, but I saw it burn clean through the floor and set a stack of papers on fire, so I'd rather not be anywhere near it.

[ Come to think of it, Philip is surprised (and glad) Evelyn is okay, given that her lost sense seems a lot more valuable. ]

To be honest you really aren't missing out on much, but... I could try to find a camera, if you want. Record a few things and hope the film doesn't disappear along with the event.

He'd prefer leeches.

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

[ We lament that Daniel's brain is in the same sorry state. That and he's just not used to letting go of things because they hum at him. ]

Thank-you. [ He stares at a couple of buzzing pills for a second, then swallows them. Delicious medicinal drugs, the answer to every ailment! ]

What keeps you awake?

[ Did he ask that already? Sleepy short-term memory, man. He peers at the bottle, wondering if it mentions how long the things take to start working. ]

LEECHES ARE NOT THE ANSWER. Although there's a lively swarm in lab #7

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

I, uh...

[ What follows now is a long pause. A long pause.

Readers who would like to use the restroom are encouraged to do so now. Go ahead, it will take quite a while. Perhaps get a drink while you're at it - or a sandwich.

Me? I'll use the time to provide you with the truthful answer to this question:

- What usually keeps Philip awake is Clarence. Clarence, the one who doesn't seem to need sleep and is free to converse with Philip all night... or mimic the sound of a foghorn, if he's feeling complacent.

- There is the pain too, but that one is only a recent addition. Almost negligible in the grand scheme of things, really.

- There is even an upside to the event, relating to the fact that Clarence seems unusually quiet in Philip's re-wired brain. Discomfort, exhaustion, who knows? Either way, if Philip were to go to bed he might just make it through the night without the Tuurngait's interference keeping him awake.

- Ah, but sadly there's still the actual reason why Philip can't keep his eye closed for more than a few minutes tops:

- The pills he constantly has to take to get through a Clarence-infested night aren't the sort of thing you just throw away one day. They are beautiful and special and if Philip's brain can't shut down with their help then it refuses to shut down at all.

Of course the insomnia is only one of many fun side effects, but we (read: Philip) will get to that in a few hours. In the meantime-- Is that you, dear reader?

Did you finish your business? Why, I sure hope you remembered to wash your hands after using the restroom, otherwise I would not recommend taking a bite out of that delicious sandwich.

But it seems you are back and so I believe we are just about ready for Philip's version of the truth now; an elaborate excuse the cleverness of which shall undoubtedly be without equal: ]

I haven't... got a room.

[ ...Well. That was anticlimactic. ]

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

[ Oh, but there's an easy answer to that! And this narration laughs at your suggestion that hand-washing should come before delicious sandwiches. Nobody has explained to this narration what a germ is and why it shouldn't be on your sandwich, and what you don't know can give you ebola. ]

I do. It's not as fine as usual, but you are welcome there.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ CURSES. ]

Um...

[ Well, now he will just have to come up with a better and even more elaborate excuse.

...If our dear readers would like to see the Lord of the Rings trilogy while waiting then we understand. ]

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

[ ...Um? ]

Philip?

1/2

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[AH! WHERE?! ]

2/2

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ I mean... ]

Hm? Why... why are you yelling?

[blimeyjamwalls.livejournal.com]

Because it's--

[ You know what's a great cure for drowsiness? Remembering that Philip can't actually hear what's now something like a high bellow. Also, spilling hot coffee all over your hand (because without ordinary touch it's hard to judge stuff like 'how upright the mug is') and getting screamed at for your trouble. And then dropping the cup.

The flinch and 'gyah!' would have been similar whether he'd heard or felt the scalding. ]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Hey, you're right! That is a great cure for drowsiness! :DDD

...

...

...

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD: ]

Jesus!

[ On the plus side, the yelling suddenly makes a whole lot of sense. On every other side... the rest.

Philip hurriedly puts his coffee aside and rounds the table to survey the damage. ]