![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Running the Gauntlet - Part 7
Jan. 6th, 2016 01:08 amInside is a side-entrance to a motor pool. Vehicles are absent, as are tires and many spare parts for such. The amount of metal inside is astounding for anyone that hasn't gone far-off shadow trips. All metal grill walkways, rubber mats and warning signs. The pictionary diagrams all warn of very bad things: Giant fans. Slipping. Stupid people intentionally dropping poison or acid on themselves. Phallic looking plastic helmets that are in danger of having things dropped on them.
The doors have glass and rubber seals on the edges to make each section an preserved section of air all to itself. Smarty-pants laboratory types will note the similarities and could suss out that this place is meant to be kept clean and contained. There are rows of lockers and half-hanged one-piece suits that look a little cultish because they're all so darn similar. More gas masks are in abundance and are probably of better function than shadow-conjured facsimiles.
The brightly uniformed cleric seems a little annoyed at being disturbed. That's not the case once when he's turned around and gets a good look at you. The He turns out to probably be a She according to hints of facial features behind the glass. Much better masks here. They have a better view of the face. Better quality as well. Her eyes widen and she seems to get the point. She holds her hands up to either side of her, clipboard still clutched and the glass of her mask begins to fog with her increased anxious respiration. "..." She follows along, leaving her bank of dials and lights behind, the sounds of her suit making rubbery 'qik-qik' noises as she follows.
( Read More )
The doors have glass and rubber seals on the edges to make each section an preserved section of air all to itself. Smarty-pants laboratory types will note the similarities and could suss out that this place is meant to be kept clean and contained. There are rows of lockers and half-hanged one-piece suits that look a little cultish because they're all so darn similar. More gas masks are in abundance and are probably of better function than shadow-conjured facsimiles.
The brightly uniformed cleric seems a little annoyed at being disturbed. That's not the case once when he's turned around and gets a good look at you. The He turns out to probably be a She according to hints of facial features behind the glass. Much better masks here. They have a better view of the face. Better quality as well. Her eyes widen and she seems to get the point. She holds her hands up to either side of her, clipboard still clutched and the glass of her mask begins to fog with her increased anxious respiration. "..." She follows along, leaving her bank of dials and lights behind, the sounds of her suit making rubbery 'qik-qik' noises as she follows.
( Read More )
