<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v484/FujinAkari/455207ef6a49be3c0c12eb43317c7403_zpsefa6cc1c.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>MYST-R-OUS-1<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Cramped and annoyed<br/><strong>Location:</strong>B37 in the VAT sector<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Bat<br/><hr/><em><br/><em>Myst blinked a bit as she opened the door and found a fellow awesome-red overalled individual standing within the meeting room.  That wasn't unusual, that was actually precisely what was to be expected.  However, the meeting room being an inexplicable broom closet was decidedly NOT something which she had planned for.  The man had somehow crammed both himself and a motorbike into the tiny room, to say nothing of the collection of mops which were already occupying the space.<br/><br/>As the man moved to the side, she squeezed her way into the mop closet, bending over slightly and stepping across the mops as she made room for herself within the enclosed space, several of the long mop-handles pressing into her stomach as she pushed her way within.  She looked up at the man who was, not surprisingly, looking back down at her.  She bit her lip slightly, trying to find the most elequent way of stating what was on her mind but, after a moment of consideration, decided that Friend Computer had not made her with eliquence, and attempting to utilize something which she had not a pre-disposition for would certainly be a form of treason.  <br/><br/>The man spoke, asking her rather stupidly whether or not she hated traitors.  Of course she hated traitors!  It wasn't even a question, so what did it mean that it WAS a question?  Was this man introducing the idea that traitors might not be hated?  How had he been made a troubleshooter with such treasonous thoughts regarding traitors?  Unless... he wasn't a troubleshooter!<br/><br/>Reaching forward, Myst grabbed the man's overalls and yanked them forward, sniffing them and examining them to determine whether or not they were legitimate overalls issued by Friend computer, or if she had found a troubleshooter spy!  A moment later, it occurred to her that she should respond so as not to make the man suspicious, raising a hand and pointing up at the man's nose, or at least trying too.  In actuality the degree to which her body was pressed into his made it rather difficult to manage to point at anything.  Regardless, she answered </em>"Of course!  Everyone hates traitors... I am even now wondering what treasonous architect did <em>this</em> to one of Friend Computer's briefing rooms?  And who invited this bike in here?  This bike and these mops clearly are not wearing the required overalls to be present for this briefing!"</em>