RP: Sadists, the lot of them Characters: Dr Sam, Dr Matt Time/Date: Evening, June 20, 2032 Location: the lair. I mean, lab Warnings/Rating: Science thoughts XD Summary: Matt contemplates and Sam has questions Status: Complete
The monitors were on, but the sound was muted. Just because they were tormenting their victims - experiments, rather - was no reason that they had to endure the brain melting cycle of music. He was honestly surprised it had taken anyone as long as it had to do away with the outdoor speakers, but finally 513 had shot them dead. The hidden speakers were still running, so it was quieter outside, but by no means silent.
They'd get to silent in a few hours though, and Matt was almost sad to see that come out. There'd been amazing pacing and frustration and everyone's tempers had been frayed. Everyone he'd seen, at any rate. But this was why they were recruiting people, wasn't it? To see how a bunch of strangers acted when they were thrown together and subjected to aural torture.
Or various other sorts of torture. Once they'd figured out who was connecting with who, they'd begin the removal process and see how deep the connections ran. Then of course there would be the hints, if people could figure them out and hide their friends or lovers before the scientists got to them.
Matt made a few more notes as he studied the monitors, noting everyone's current location as well as noting who was out of camera range. There were a few blind spots on the island, though they were working to remedy that. He supposed 318A could find them if she was at all inclined to look, and he was curious if it would come up.
"Who signed off on the brain damaged ten year old?" Sam inquired from her seat across the lab. "Doesn't that skew the data? Severely skew the data?"
"Data is data," Matt returned as he flicked the music off and set the timer. He'd give them forty-seven minutes this time. "You take into account that she's damaged data, we repress the magic so she doesn't have any dome-exploding accidents, and we set her loose with the others. Second floor though, put her closer to 214."
"When were we planning on bringing her in?"
"Dunno," he admitted. "Soon, maybe. I want to see the results of the great music experiment before really adding anyone else to the pool that's not already scheduled." He tapped the pen against his teeth as he watched the monitors. "We might not," he added after a moment. "If we come up with something better. Or find out no one here's really equipped to deal with her. No one on either side," he amended. He didn't much care if people out there weren't capable of dealing with a new arrival. He was concerned about their level of control over the subjects.
One chink in the armor could bring this down. If they all worked together. Matt grinned and rolled his shoulders before pushing back from the monitors. It was just about time for a shift change, after all, and he was looking forward to some non-recycled air, thank you very much.