Enough time spent watching various Experiment A inmates have the expected moment of outrage when they realised that, yeah, the door was really locked like everyone else's was. Forced journals, as Lina put it. Clever. Of course, the results of the first batch were nothing but the kind of thing you'd spout at a counsellor until they were either appeased or realised they weren't going to get much else out of you and fucked right off. Really, it was all a load of bullshit. It was far, far too early in the day to expect them to write about anything this Experiment would consider worth their time. Funny, though... After spending a few hours worth of reactions from the other housemates, Osten couldn't help but move to examine the locking mechanism on his own door. It looked normal -- which he realised now meant absolutely nothing, since he was sure the locks downstairs looked perfectly kosher too. Big Brother is watching. It was a thought that suddenly made the idea of going to get a show rather less comforting, even though he'd already known they were all being watched. Didn't matter. He didn't recall the nick having five star washing facilities.
On the way back out, his feet trailed wet foot-prints out of the shower and right across his bedroom until he managed to get himself into jeans a black t-shirt and socks. He wasn't putting a shirt on. Not when he was only going back to monitoring the surveillance cameras, willing the morons downstairs to do something interesting. Please. He would actually ask nicely if it would incite someone to at least throw their teddy out of the crib. After about fifteen minutes -- patience had never been he strong suite when it came to boredom -- he had resorted to tearing up bits of paper, rolling them into balls and throwing them at the screen. The monotony was broken only by Osten's sudden irritation at the fact he had made a mess of his rather spartan room and made himself tidy it. It took longer than it ought to have done. He was blaming that on Experiment A. If they'd been more interesting...
"Fuck this for a game of white noise." He muttered to himself as he stepped out into the horror movie inspired hallway and habitually locked the door behind him. No offense intended towards his fellow Experiment B-ers, but he was fairly sure they had done the same. If they hadn't he would be more than happy to call them out for their stupidity. Day two and he was bored as hell of watching other people enjoy themselves while he was trapped in the attic with the others. Fed through the dumbwaiter. Which he was walking in the general direction of because that and the Common area were the only other places to go. "Afternoon," he grated with a nod as he passed, returning momentarily with his own cup of tea. People could mock him for it as much as they liked -- he was British and couldn't function without his tea -- but he didn't give a toss. Besides, the satisfaction was evident on his face as he sat back. All he was missing was the sigh. "We need a gym," he stated at length. "Or just a damn punch bag before I pad that skinny lad with cushions and string him up." Either, or.