@Lavy-the-Nerdy-Sci-Fi-Birdy
(Okay. See ya!)
(Okay. See ya!)
(Are you on Typhoon?)
Yes
(Huzzah!)
Ellen got up and walked back into their room. James was still on his bed. "You okay?" She asked.
James was humming, his hands were clamped over his ears and we was rocking back and forth restlessly, “You Are Okay,”
"Yeah I know I am, are y- oh never mind." She huffed, sitting down on her bed.
(I'm online but have no idea what to do with my little French lady of evil.)
James dropped his hands from his ears, “Yes I am okay,” the words sputtered out.
"Okay, good." Ellen leaned back against the wall, keeping an eye on the door. "That girl was a straight up murderous psycho." She muttered to herself. How many others were like her? Ellen glanced at James. "Is this your first time here?"
(Well, half French half Demon.)
James nodded, “First time. I do not like it.”
Ellen nodded. "Me neither." She leaned forward. She didn't know James, but he definitely wasn't a goony for Psycho or Viper. Or extremely loony. "We should try and escape." She whispered. Her usual tactic if things took a turn for the worse in a home.
“We cannot leave. It is against the rules,” James stood up.
"Yeah, I know." She stood up too, cracking her knuckles. "But I'm not going to just go along with having a psycho as a fellow inmate."
James thought, “How do we escape?” He never broke the rules but he agreed with her. He couldn’t stay here.
(How could I toss my character back in?)
Ellen ran a hand through her hair. "Hmm." Her eyes trailed up to the ventilation. "I'd say ventilation shafts, but I'm not as small as I used to be, and I doubt you'd fit." She glanced at the door, and then the corners of the room. "Do you think they have this place bugged?" She whispered.
“They can not have it bugged,” James smiled, “Last year they had cameras in the bathroom and the police caught them so there’s a privacy treaty and weekly inspections,”
Ellen nodded. "Okay, so this place might not be as bugged as some of the houses I've been in. What about the fence? Is it electric? And what about guard rotations?" She started pacing.
(And that's her paranoia mostly speaking right there.)
“The guards change hourly and they take a 30 minute lunch at 11:30 every day.” Being autistic he noticed these things just like how he noticed there were 32 steps on the staircase and it only took 47 to get from the stairs to his door.
Ellen nodded, impressed that he knew that. "Alright. Where are the deliveries dropped off and at what time?"
“Vans come to the back entrance twice a week to drop of food for the cafeteria, Tuesday’s and Thursday’s at 13:00 hours. And mail trucks come daily at 07:00 hours by the front entrance. “
Ellen nodded. "How guarded is the drop off area, where is it located, and how far is it?"
“The Guards are distracted because they help unload the vans. Also it takes me 258 steps to get from my bed to the front entrance but you have shorter legs insinuating smaller strides so it will take you approximately 327 steps to the front entrance.”
(How tall is he? Ellen's 6'1.)
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