InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "He's my chance of a lifetime."

sarcasmquotes (sarcasmquotes) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-17 11:45:00

Entry tags:

!dropped, day 11, derek zoolander, glados, location: post office, open

Day 11: 12:00PM
Who: GLaDOS and OTA
What: A sentient psychotic computer emobodied in a woman's body needs to keep herself entertained somehow... experiementing
Where: The Post Office
When: Day 11, Noon
Rating: TBD

Status: Active

The town had been quiet since she followed the men out of the rubble and decided her previous experiment had run it's course. She'd holed up in the theater again overnight, ignoring the sounds of people's wimpers and cries. She wasn't here to 'help' she was here to learn. There was a distinct difference between the two. Helping? When did the rats in the maze ever tell their competition where to turn? Well, GLaDOS was not just another rat; no, she was a super rat.

Taking up a seat in front of the Post Office she looked up and down the road and when she was significantly certain she was alone she started to carefully construct her facade. She pulled her wounded knees to her chest and slowly started to rock. As she rocked she started making quiet wimpering noises. The wimpers turned to wails and soon she appeared to be a broken mess.

Subroutine alpha 7.9 was in place.

All she needed was her next subject.

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sarcasmquotes
2009-06-18 09:48 pm UTC (link)

She heard the subject approach. A subject that as they approached tried to make poor jokes. GLaDOS filed that away as a variable for this experiment. She had not anticipated someone with dysfunctional social skills as the subject. She would need to re-do the experiment again to verify her conclusions.

The woman's frame continued to rock, cries turning to whimpers which infected her speech.

"M-m-my friend, John. He's in there," she said, pointing to the theater. "I wasn't strong enough to carry him out. I think he's dead." With that last stroke GLaDOS was again sobbing.

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eugoogoolizer
2009-06-20 11:53 am UTC (link)

As far as Derek was concerned, his social skills were impeccable. People loved him and took pictures of him and listened to what he said, even if it sounded really retarded (which it usually did.) He watched her rock, his puzzled expression resembling a monkey's, before he drew slightly closer. He thought about trying to comfort her by patting her on the shoulder, but he was afraid that he might got snot or tears or something else gross on him, and so he settled for patting her on the head.

"John? Ummmm.... oh snap! Dead? Well... huh... oh! Oh no! Someone's dead? That's terrible!" It was so terrible that it even made Derek forget, momentarily, about his nail. "Someone needs to call an ambulance!"

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