An examination of the furniture turned up a journal, a set of pens, an empty key ring, and two pairs of batteries. And more of the same grey pajamas she was wearing were hung up in the closet. One set of slippers, one set of what she could only describe as… outdoor slippers. A painfully imprecise term of which she did not approve, but she couldn’t think of any other way to evaluate the shoes.
What did all these things add up to? They wanted her to write in the journal, obviously, but for what purpose? Anthropologically speaking, journal keeping was a way to record the present and preserve the past. Journals could also be utilized in the comprehension of voluminous data in a formal setting, but Brennan suspected she hadn’t been brought here to be lectured.
As for the outfits: forcing someone to wear a uniform was generally a way of suppressing individuality, either as a method of crushing the spirit or simply keeping rowdy children in line. In the case of prisons, they gave everyone generic clothes to aid in identification should an inmate escape, and hospitals provided gowns for comfort and easy access. Since she wasn’t wearing a hospital gown, had never heard of a prison that put smiley faces on its uniforms, and was no longer in grade school, she was leaning towards the “suppress individuality as a method of crushing the spirit” explanation. A fake prison, then. An unsanctioned one, or one sanctioned by an incredibly corrupt government.
The flashlight could indicate a desire on her captor’s apart (no, not captors – that was jumping to a conclusion, this could be some kind of… specialized hospital…) that she leave the room after dark without the supervision of someone with their own light. Or they expected her to write in her journal after dark, but there were no floor or desk lamps, so that seemed unlikely.
Well, might as well see where the door led. Bracing herself in case an attack came, Brennan opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
no subject
An examination of the furniture turned up a journal, a set of pens, an empty key ring, and two pairs of batteries. And more of the same grey pajamas she was wearing were hung up in the closet. One set of slippers, one set of what she could only describe as… outdoor slippers. A painfully imprecise term of which she did not approve, but she couldn’t think of any other way to evaluate the shoes.
What did all these things add up to? They wanted her to write in the journal, obviously, but for what purpose? Anthropologically speaking, journal keeping was a way to record the present and preserve the past. Journals could also be utilized in the comprehension of voluminous data in a formal setting, but Brennan suspected she hadn’t been brought here to be lectured.
As for the outfits: forcing someone to wear a uniform was generally a way of suppressing individuality, either as a method of crushing the spirit or simply keeping rowdy children in line. In the case of prisons, they gave everyone generic clothes to aid in identification should an inmate escape, and hospitals provided gowns for comfort and easy access. Since she wasn’t wearing a hospital gown, had never heard of a prison that put smiley faces on its uniforms, and was no longer in grade school, she was leaning towards the “suppress individuality as a method of crushing the spirit” explanation. A fake prison, then. An unsanctioned one, or one sanctioned by an incredibly corrupt government.
The flashlight could indicate a desire on her captor’s apart (no, not captors – that was jumping to a conclusion, this could be some kind of… specialized hospital…) that she leave the room after dark without the supervision of someone with their own light. Or they expected her to write in her journal after dark, but there were no floor or desk lamps, so that seemed unlikely.
Well, might as well see where the door led. Bracing herself in case an attack came, Brennan opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.