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07 July 2006 @ 02:16 pm
Norman comes in with two mugs of coffee balanced in one hand, and a carafe in the second, which he pours out onto the floors.  It's at least as much sugar as coffee, fresh and well-brewed.  "Thought you could use some today," he murmurs to the corridors, smiling tiredly.
 
 
01 July 2006 @ 02:19 pm
Persons who frequent the Labs may be a little uncomfortable, right now -- what with the incoherent screams of rage coming from Norman's office, and all.

But that's okay, kids! Just ignore the grown man having his tantrum. Rather like a bull, he won't attack anything not in his direct line of sight. Hopefully.
 
 
27 June 2006 @ 11:32 am
Schreber gets his motorized wheelchair into the labs, and to his room. He worries about it bothering Norman when he hears the wheels on the tiled floor, but he's still not strong enough to walk very far. Orwell flies off his shoulder and around the halls until they reach Schreber's room. It's good to be home, even if it's just to collect some books and check on the place. The hospital bed John replaced the couch with is kind of startling, but everything else is in order. It's time to make tea!
 
 
Current Mood: nostalgicnostalgic
 
 
24 June 2006 @ 06:05 pm
After last night's small excitement, Norman hasn't been back to the Lab.  The entire day, he's spent in the Arena, playing with his glider.  Practicing.  Perfecting.  And trying not to wonder if he'll still be able to ride it tomorrow.  Amber'd said that she'd talk to their double about waiting, but he hadn't much faith in their chances.  So he was just here.  They could come and find him if they were going to wake him up.
 
 
18 June 2006 @ 07:12 pm
This time Rassilon does appear with a swirl of special effects. He hadn't bothered with portals this time, you see. In his hand is a cup of what he figures, from research, is a very good cup of finely roasted coffee (he wouldn't know, he prefers tea). This is poured carefully upon the floor. He stands back and waits.
 
 
 
18 June 2006 @ 05:14 am
*Somewhere in the labs a portal to the Sanctuary quivers, contracts and belches forth a very panicked and very familiar-looking irken. Before her feet even hit the ground and the portal is able to close, something--a very powerful blast, the shockwave funneled and magnified through the dimensional bottleneck-- follows her out and wrecks havoc on the small room. Beakers and test tubes shatter. Screens break. The metal consoles in the room ripple. And the amplifier wire curled arond the left-hand side of Tak's head sparks spectacularly. She goes limp and lands hard on her side, twitching a few times then lying utterly still.*

((Sorry, but mun has to sleep sometime. Baaaaack!))

 
 
 
 
17 June 2006 @ 10:45 pm
Amber has a very low opinion of the sorts of things most people term 'eldritch.' This is probably ironic, considering her origins and where she currently is, but... there we go. Not helping her feelings is the rather large, troublingly discoloured burn on her arm.

Having ensconced herself in a small first-aid area in a remote corner of the Labs, she has stripped off her shirt and is currently attempting to clean and bandage said injury. She's not doing as well as she wishes she was.
 
 
15 June 2006 @ 12:31 pm
Nyoka makes a sacrificeCollapse )

Well, she hoped, that'd hopefully do, right?

(( LJ-cut mostly because I feel better cutting it, myself >_> And Wolfos's, according to the Zelda games, aren't sentiant. I picked it because most of the Chrono Trigger baddies are either sentiant or weaklings. Or snakey.))
 
 
Current Mood: nervousnervous
Current Music: Battle - Zelda: OOT
 
 
14 June 2006 @ 12:18 am
She stode into her lab in the far corner, fully armored save the helmet which she carries once more, "Anubis."

"Yes?"

"Get me all the information you can on Kanden."

"Understood." Anubis paused for a moment, "...Why, if I may ask?"

"Because I want to know what all has been done to him."

"Understood."
 
 
Current Location: Nexus Labs, Nexus
Current Mood: annoyedannoyed
 
 
13 June 2006 @ 08:16 pm
With his mutation stablized, they can finally begin to defrost the younger Norman.  It's a slow process, of course, regulated by the cryochamber.  Some hacking was required: Fury had, after all, never intended to let him regain consciousness.  But things are progressing smoothly now.  Norman sits at the other end of the room, hands wrapped around a hot-but-cooling mug of coffee, and watches the chamber.