![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hngng thursday night shenanigans
Who: Ripley and Solid Snake
When: Thursday night :^)
[This week has been...not terrible, all things considered. Sure, it's a bit hectic with thirty people running about the resort while trying to deal with the idea that some of them may not be human anymore and maybe possibly death, but at least the room service is good.
Perhaps if the...things haven't killed anybody by now, they won't try anything later, either. Maybe the Apprentice had been lying about that. Then again, these monsters are playing by the Staff's rules, which means something is bound to happen tonight. Rather than sleeping, Ripley has been fiddling with this machine for hours--a bundle of exposed wires, a rudimentary antenna, a stripped down speaker, and whatever else she could find that the Staff might not have tampered with yet. The signal had been too weak to travel far today, but maybe, with a little bit of fiddling, she can amplify it and hopefully have someone receive the SOS to come and rescue them.
Maybe.
Ripley stops working for a moment, wiping her hands on a nearby rag. She hasn't done this kind of intricate work since her electrical engineering labs in college. She takes the opportunity to munch on a slice of pepperoni pizza, ordered from the restaraunt. It's quiet. She tilts her head to the side, listening for any disturbances.]
When: Thursday night :^)
[This week has been...not terrible, all things considered. Sure, it's a bit hectic with thirty people running about the resort while trying to deal with the idea that some of them may not be human anymore and maybe possibly death, but at least the room service is good.
Perhaps if the...things haven't killed anybody by now, they won't try anything later, either. Maybe the Apprentice had been lying about that. Then again, these monsters are playing by the Staff's rules, which means something is bound to happen tonight. Rather than sleeping, Ripley has been fiddling with this machine for hours--a bundle of exposed wires, a rudimentary antenna, a stripped down speaker, and whatever else she could find that the Staff might not have tampered with yet. The signal had been too weak to travel far today, but maybe, with a little bit of fiddling, she can amplify it and hopefully have someone receive the SOS to come and rescue them.
Maybe.
Ripley stops working for a moment, wiping her hands on a nearby rag. She hasn't done this kind of intricate work since her electrical engineering labs in college. She takes the opportunity to munch on a slice of pepperoni pizza, ordered from the restaraunt. It's quiet. She tilts her head to the side, listening for any disturbances.]
alcoholism cw
Good thing Iwai had alcohol. Snake had no intention of drinking alone; he wanted to dull the biting worry, not render himself unconscious, not to mention completely incapable of stopping any situation that might arise.
Luckily, he knows someone who is nothing but responsible, probably still awake, and could benefit from the drink if not the company. So, Snake soon finds himself at Ripley's door with a bottle of whiskey, giving it a knock.]
no subject
...To be honest, she was half expecting Phil again, in which she'd probably have just shut the door on his face. What's with middle aged men with depression coming to knock on her door at night?]
Can I help you?
[Snake can probably smell the faint scent of metal and burning. And Wilkins Coffee.]
no subject
Are you busy?
no subject
Not really. Come on in.
[She opens the door a little wider, then heads back to her desk. She turns off the soldering tool (which is really just...a piece of the heater stolen from one of the unused rooms) and pulls over her chair, sitting in it backwards.]
Just been working on trying to add a receiver to this thing. I'm able to send out PM signals, but I won't know if anyone's receiving it unless I'm able to get some feedback.
no subject
So that's what the burning was.
[With nowhere else he's really willing to sit, Snake sits on the floor, leaning against the wall, and cracks the cap of the bottle open.]
I tried to contact my team via codec, but...[Hnnrrghh] something was off.
no subject
[...]
Did you not bring any glasses to, you know, pour the whiskey?
no subject
Old habits. Is that a problem?
[Because he really is not above just sharing the bottle.]
...I could get through. Sounded just like them. [He frowns.] But nothing they said made sense.
no subject
[and she's a lesbian!]
...Do you think the Staff might've intercepted your signal and tried to mimic your team? I mean, given what they've shown themselves capable of....
no subject
[He raises the bottle in solidarity.]
Probably. [It'd make sense, considering.] But why bother? Why not cut it off?
no subject
...That's a good question. [She frowns, falling quiet for a few moments.] The Staff are expected to serve us to make this experience as comfortable as possible, yes? Maybe that extends to...making calls.
[She runs a hand through her hair.] None of this makes sense. We've got pieces to a puzzle we don't know how to put together.
no subject
[That whole thing was intensely fucking weird. Snake shakes his head, and thinks on the puzzle.]
It's like none of the pieces match. But we've still got to work it out.
[Snake says it with a heavy determination, as though failure just wasn't an option to him. Like any one of his missions, no matter how impossible the odds, he was going to get through it. He could only hope that would include Ripley - and the others - too.
After a moment, he holds up the bottle to Ripley in offering. Want some?]
no subject
[Ripley sighs, then gladly takes the bottle and takes a sip. God, she really needed that. She clutches the bottle with both hands, feeling the cool glass against her fingers.]
If someone does die, I don't know how well the kids are going to take it. They may be pretty strong, but...they won't know until they're actually in that situation to deal with it.
no subject
It won't be new for some of them. I don't know if that's better or worse.