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

Entry tags:

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

[ 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? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dan, what are you still doing up? Did s-[ YAWN]-thing happen to your room?

[ Philip circles around to the other side of the table, admittedly a little curious about Daniel's winnings in the sensory trade lottery. ]

I, ah... [ And he's sharp as a button, too, thanks to the aforementioned sleeplessness. ]

Only what has happened to everywhere else. But, ah... this interference with my senses is disturbing my rest.

[ Because that's all that's disturbing his rest. Yup. ]

[ Is this where Philip offers an explanation for his restlessness in return? Like: "That doesn't bother me so much, but I can't sleep without my pills. You know, the ones I've got to take because Clarence won't shut up at night."

...Yeahno, didn't think so either. SO. Those senses, huh? ]

I can smell sounds. What did you get?

[ Philip is trying to make it sound a little more like an annoying version of Secret Santa. His own sensory remodelling did surprisingly little to faze him, but he can see how that might not apply to everyone. At all.

Meanwhile, as he steps closer to Daniel, he thinks he can hear the faint sound of chains rattling in the background... ]

Ah... anything I touch makes a sound instead of my feeling it.

[ Then again... ] At least neither of us has lost his sight. It seems a lot of people have.

[ Though he's in the light at last, he's still tense and his voice is still strained. Though he refuses to look at them, there are roaches swarming at the edges of his vision. Some of the things he hears are not natural or even caused by his shift in senses. ]

Yep. Not much left to lose, but it's still there.

[ A mirthless laugh.

...Followed by the realisation that he neither wants nor should be talking about anything related to that eyepatch.

A realisation that could have stood to come a few crucial moments earlier. Curse you, brain. ]

Sorry, that... just sort of slipped out.

[ Quick smile aaaaand even quicker retreat towards the box of donuts. ]

Would you like one? I was, um, going to make coffee too, so...

[ djngfdvld oh shit brb Daniel's stomach just dropped out. ]

I didn't mean - I meant nothing by - I'm sorry, I...

[ With great tiredness comes great ability to put one's foot in one's mouth. Daniel stands, enthroned in awkwardness before the offer of donuts. ]

...What are they?

I know, don't- don't apologise, I just... I'm just tired.

[ Philip takes the first donut within reach and offers it to Daniel. ]

It's a small... it's fried dough, basically. Very sweet.

[ Sideeye at his beloved architectural structure. ]

Solid building material as well.

[ Oh, well, that sounds palatable. Dough is fairly basic, and that he's eaten it fried doesn't take a leap of the imagination.

And... Daniel is going to let the matter of his misspeaking drop, because it's uncomfortable and he doesn't want to talk about it. And as usual, he has to make an effort not to stare at the eyepatch and beyond to what it hides. ]

Should, ah... it be that colour?

[ He takes Philip's sweet, sticky offering and puts it in his mouth. ]

That's just the icing. There's probably a plain one somewhere, if you'd rather...

[ Philip reaches for the box (which is really a lot pinker than this picture leads to believe) and slides it over to Daniel. ]

So what do you think? [ It occurs Philip to clarify that he's decided to move on to another topic, hence: ] Of the event, I mean. This building it's... [ He coughs. ] ...interesting.

[ Had he all his wits about him, Daniel would never have dreamed of speaking with his mouth full. Accordingly, right now he makes a mmppmm-mmphmmm noise and loses several crumbs. He's not sure whether to apologise for that or be weirded out by the fact that the donut feels like a slurping noise.

Swallowing swallowing swallowing SWALLOWED. That was a big bite he took of Philip's fat, delicious mouthful. ]

Ah... [ He clears his throat of spare crumbs. ] Oh.

[ Ah, of course. Philip should have waited with the question. What he offers is a sizeable lot to take in, after all, and swallowing it all can be quite the task. ]

...I'll put up some coffee.

[ 'Or watery Veridian equivalent thereof'. The coffee machine he borrowed from one of the employee areas didn't do a very satisfactory job so far. ]

Uh, did you close the door? I'd rather not have another one of those cleaning robots in here.

[ He nods, glad that Philip apparently didn't notice the urgency with which the door-closing happened. Being afraid of the dark isn't exactly a big manly impressive thing to be caught at. ]

That sounds like rather a good idea, [ he says. Or would say, if the last word wasn't overtaken by a yawn (which he hurriedly covers with his non-donut-clutching hand.) ]

[ If Philip did notice (which isn't unlikely) then he probably already forgot about it by now. His memory is only one part that refuses to be strained needlessly until more sleep is made available.

Speaking of which, Philip only knows what Daniel told him, so his knowledge of the actual sleep issue is limited. Hence the suggestion: ]

...Did you try earplugs? I've seen some in one of the labs and if you've got a room... they might help with the sounds.

[ Not that Philip is entirely sure if the conversion works that way, but it's a suggestion at least. ]

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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

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. ]

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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

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. ]

[ 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.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

He'd prefer leeches.

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

no subject