Sangamon Taylor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
toxicspiderman) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2012-01-01 10:29 pm
toxicspiderman) wrote in damned_institute2012-01-01 10:29 pm
Entry tags:
Nightshift 60: Pantry 1
[from here]
The pantry was free of cockroaches, spiders (not counting Peter) and ephemeral naked gonzo journalists. Which was good, because there was barely enough room for six of them, and materializing in the middle of any of those was Star Trek season three material. Transporter accidents were the future's airplanes -- unless terrorists were involved, safer than taking a shower in your own house, but people didn't understand how it worked.
They didn't understand hydrostatic pressure, but turning a shower knob looked easier than a Christmas tree of dials and lights sunfished across a cockpit or a console.
He shoved the tines of the ring into the back of his hand and pulled out a glittering red stone. "Looks like we're all in one piece." Separate individual pieces, too. Always important.
"Kreuger actually here, or is this some kind of Canadian hockey mask allusion thing?" With S.T. as the racist American hick. Or it could really be Nightmare on Elm Street 5: Where Do Dreams Go When They Die?
It was based on a real medical oddity -- bunch of Cambodian refugees with understandably fucked up nightmares had heart attacks in their sleep, and a porno/art-film nobody had a smash hit. Better to think about that than the plot, which hit a little too close to the truth here for comfort. It was going to be a while before he could watch another horror flick and be able to laugh at people's heads getting blown off.
The pantry was free of cockroaches, spiders (not counting Peter) and ephemeral naked gonzo journalists. Which was good, because there was barely enough room for six of them, and materializing in the middle of any of those was Star Trek season three material. Transporter accidents were the future's airplanes -- unless terrorists were involved, safer than taking a shower in your own house, but people didn't understand how it worked.
They didn't understand hydrostatic pressure, but turning a shower knob looked easier than a Christmas tree of dials and lights sunfished across a cockpit or a console.
He shoved the tines of the ring into the back of his hand and pulled out a glittering red stone. "Looks like we're all in one piece." Separate individual pieces, too. Always important.
"Kreuger actually here, or is this some kind of Canadian hockey mask allusion thing?" With S.T. as the racist American hick. Or it could really be Nightmare on Elm Street 5: Where Do Dreams Go When They Die?
It was based on a real medical oddity -- bunch of Cambodian refugees with understandably fucked up nightmares had heart attacks in their sleep, and a porno/art-film nobody had a smash hit. Better to think about that than the plot, which hit a little too close to the truth here for comfort. It was going to be a while before he could watch another horror flick and be able to laugh at people's heads getting blown off.
no subject
Though he might think less of the weepy hugging that came afterwards.
They went through the tumble that was, by now, routine, and Peter managed not to fall on anyone too badly (though he had to wrest his foot from underneath someone else). He faced a corner for a moment as he dusted himself off, breathing deep and easy. Things weren't fixed yet. One hundred percent was still a far mark from here, so he had to put in effort to keep cool. Yet the Krueger comment had his ears pricking and a retort on the tip of his tongue already. That was a good sign.
"Well if he is we're all good, because nobody actually sleeps here in the first place." Aside from that...tater tot thing, Peter could not remember once getting a hint of shut eye that didn't immediately turn into the rise and shine breakfast club.
no subject
It didn't particularly matter. He was just glad Scott was here and not strapped to a table somewhere in the labs upstairs. He'd be even gladder when they were out of the cramped pantry and well on their way to unexplored territory. "Everyone all right? Ready to go?" he asked.
no subject
Harvey decided he didn't want to think too hard on that point, and in the end that choice was made for him, since Sangamon wasted no time in getting them into the pantry. This was almost routine by now, which was strange enough as it was.
Still, there was no point in wasting time now. Harvey glanced at Jones when he came out with a question and shook his head. "Don't ask. Just don't ask." Harvey didn't want to think too hard on how it would actually be feasible for some horror movie antagonist to show up here.
Not bothering to see if the rest of the team was ready, Harvey decided to take charge for once and led them all out into the kitchen.
[To here.]