The Lab [IC]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Xillen on 04-01-2011, 18:24:47</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xillen</strong> on <strong>04-01-2011, 18:24:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The Lab - Interest check (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=93896)<br>The Lab - OOC/Character thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=93928)<br><strong>The Lab - IC/Story thread</strong><br><br><hr><br>A small duststorm was sweeping around the Bennett Corporation Air Strip as the last aircraft finally landed after a long trip. The strip was located in the middle of a desert, cut in half by a wide asphalt road that headed further than the naked eye could see in both directions. A single turn of the road was visible, that lead to a small hill and a large building on the side of that hill. The text "Bennett Corporation Mining Site" was writted on the front in big letters, using white paint.<br><br>The airstrip itself was nothing more than two long strokes of asphalt, parallel to the road, connected by a U-turn on both ends, and a small radio contact building that doubled up as an administrative center in the middle. In addition to the aircraft that just landed, two more planes and a helicopter were waiting on the ground. A fourth aircraft had been present just over an hour ago, but had left directly after dropping off miss Portman and hauling several large crates on board.<br><br><hr><br>It had been three weeks since the ladies had sent in their application to one of the Bennett Corporation offices. during those three weeks, each had received a contract in their mail to sign and return, the return envelope included in the mail. Extra sheets of paper were also provided to allow the inclusion of additional comments. Several days after returning the signed contract, US$ 20,000.- or equivalent was wired to their bank accounts as advance payment to cover for expenses during their six month absense. The actual, much larger fee would be granted after they completed their six month stay. If no bank account information was known, a private account under the Bennett Organization was created, and the information to access the account included in the final letter.<br><br>One more letter came in, four days ago, stating the time and date they should be present at their local airport and report at the service desk. A pilot would be waiting for each of them individually, to escort them to their aircraft that would take them to their destination. The letter also informed the ladies not to bother bringing any additional goods, as their luggage would not be accessable during their stay.<br><br><hr><br>After making sure all engines were off, the pilot unfastened his seat belts. "We've landed, mam." the middleaged man who had not bothered to introduce himself informed miss Roe, who was appointed a seat in the rear of the cockpit. The pilot headed for the cargo hold, and unlocked the hatch on the side, that slowly flipped outwards, lowering the top end to the ground, so it double functioned as stairs. The pilot held his left arm in front of his face to protect it against the sand, blown around by the wind. "Please report at the building over there!" he yelled over the sound of the wind, as he pointed to the small, administrative building, thereby giving her the same instruction as his fellow pilots had given the other ladies upon their arrival here. Assuming she would be able to handle exiting the plane herself, or perhaps thinking it wasn't his responsibility, the man ignored Hillary from there on and focused on inspecting the crates inside.<br><br><hr><br>The building between the two strips had a rather rectangular shape, being only a single room wide, but having the size of six or seven rooms long. The middlemost room appeared to be the waiting room, and was the only room that contained any windows to look in or outside. Inside, an eldery clerk, wearing a dark gray uniform and standing behind a tall, metal desk, asked each lady to check in as they entered. Apparently, checking in consisted of writing down their name and the current date on a piece of paper that was covered with scratches and coffee stains, followed by their paragraph. The pen that was handed to them was one of those luxurous looking parker pens, with the text "Bennett Corporation" engraved in the side.<br><br>Each outer wall of the room had a door to enter or exit the building. Likewise, each inside wall sported a door that lead to the adjacent room, one of these doors located behind the desk and both closed and more sturdy looking than the doors leading outside. Several yellowbrown synthetic chairs were present to sit upon, and a coffee machine that seemed to operate in perfect condition stood in the corner of the room. It had obviously been a while since the last time someone had cleaned up in there, as the floor was covered with sand.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>05-01-2011, 20:03:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				MAUREEN PORTMAN<br><br>Everything about this made me curious. Everything. Every detail. The way negotiations were handled and forms sent; the money that appeared in my bank account and on the day, the pilot who escorted me past the goggle-eyed tourists queueing at the check-in desks through a discreetly marked 'VIP' door and into a limousine that drove us to a waiting jet.<br><br>And the jet! Wow. Nice. I am not sure what it was, possibly a Lear but that is the only make of private jet I know so it might not have been.<br><br>The flight was very long from London Heathrow. There was one cabin crew lady who made sure I had drinks and meals and who converted the wide comfortable seat into a bed when the sun went down. I slept soundly to the gentle drone of engines, strangely comfortable knowing that I was being looked after so well. The efficiency and smoothness of the whole operation from form filling to a gently spoken, <strong><em>"Good morning, Miss, we are about to land soon. If you wish to freshen up, the wash room is at&nbsp; the rear there and when you are done I can serve breakfast. Juice? Coffee? Ham and eggs?"</em></strong><br><br><strong>"Uh? Hnn? Oh, please. Oh, good morning. Uhm... Just juice and coffee please. And have you any yoghurt or fruit? That will be fine, thanks."</strong><br><br>I stripped in the small bathroom and washed as well as I could, putting on clean underwear from my hand luggage and a fresh blouse and skirt. Feeling adventurous and a little frisky I chose to wear a suspender belt and dark charcoal stockings too - they matched my grey satin bra and panties. I brushed my teeth, packed away, had a quick squirt of <em>Arpège</em>, fixed my make-up, fluffed my hair and was ready. My blouse was bright orange silk and my skirt a black knee length pencil design with a kick pleat. My heels were black to match the skirt.<br><br>Breakfast was waiting when I exited the wash room and thirty minutes after that the stewardess asked me to put my seat up and fasten my belt. I glanced out of the window but could see only hills rugged and bare below me, with a splash of what looked like jungle on a plain in the distance and the azure of a sea in the tropics beyond that. <br><br>With a roar of engines and a bump we were down and taking my hand luggage bag on it's shoulder strap I carefully descended the small plane's steps and was directed across a flat dusty... well... desert, I guess to a small administration building that had a control tower and a slowly turning radar aerial on top. There was just a helicopter parked a little way from the building and no sign of a car or official greeting.<br><br>Walking carefully in my four inch heels I picked my way via the flattest and least stony path I could find and ten minutes later was beginning to wonder where I was and what on earth I was doing here. The clerk who had signed me in was silent and apparently disinterested in conversation despite my attempts at small talk. The paper I had signed looked like his doodle pad that would be thrown away tonight. In fact compared to how efficient and formal everything had been up until now this place had me more than a little worried. I did consider that since this was a test that this weird reception might be a part of that test and cameras were watching my reaction and therefore I sat on one of the padded seats and did nothing.<br><br>After twenty minutes the sound of a jet could be heard and the roar of engines announced another plane landing. I waited five minutes and then the door opened and a woman came in.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xillen</strong> on <strong>05-01-2011, 23:40:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Maureen checked the ceiling, which had dilapidated into a hue of dirty gray, covered with yellow stains, she could indeed make out two security cameras in opposite corners of the room. A small red light on each of the cameras indicated that they were running.<br><br>"Look, miss." the clerk answered somewhat annoyed as the girl tried to strike a conversation with him, while scratching the receding gray hair that still sported his head, "I'm just here to do my job, nothing else, ok?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Litzi</strong> on <strong>06-01-2011, 03:29:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Winifred Hart</strong><br><hr>She had gotten to the airport right on time.&nbsp; She had worn clothing to hide her appearance really, not wanting to be caught by the bookies she owed or have any of her friends or parent's friends see her.&nbsp; It had taken some convincing with her parent's to make&nbsp; them understand that even though this was six months of no contact, she would be fine and it would look great on her resume, taking care of tribal people and such.&nbsp; In truth, she was in a lot of debt.&nbsp; Her parents could have paid it fine but after she had used their credit cards at the age of 15 to play online poker, they had told her they would never pay for her gambling again.&nbsp; She had asked for other things and used it to gamble or pay debts but this debt was way more than she could ask for.&nbsp; So, she had found a internet advertisement while surfing online. She had contacted them and started the ball rolling on her "internship." She was grateful for the time to let the heat with the bookies lower, as well as gain the needed cash to pay them off, plus more!&nbsp; She had even gotten her advisor to give her credit for the semester she would be missing.&nbsp; He hadn't wanted to but after a little convincing...in the bedroom, he relented.&nbsp; She hadn't gotten to where she was on her brains alone, though she was plenty smart.&nbsp; She knew she could more, much more, if she used all her...assets.&nbsp; <br><hr>The flight had been a long one and they had gotten to the little island easily.&nbsp; She tried to talk to the pilot during the flight, a bit of a chatty cathy, but he certainly was not.&nbsp; She finally stopped trying and turned on her iPod.&nbsp; She listened to one of her favorite books.&nbsp; She was hoping to sneak it in without anyone seeing, unable to imagine going without some form of entertainment during downtime.&nbsp; She stepped out of the plane once they landed, still wearing her shades and long, tan overcoat.&nbsp; The pilot pointed out the building and she began towards it, pulling out her earbuds and slipping them and her iPod into her pocket. She still didn't understand why she wouldn't need bags or anything but she expected this place was some kind of like medical resort.&nbsp; That was the new thing these days, going out of the country for surgeries because of how expensive healthcare was these days.&nbsp; <br><hr>She stepped into the room, looking around before pushing her sunglasses onto her forehead, pushing back her dark bangs.&nbsp; She saw another girl in the waiting room, looking her over for a moment before turning her eyes on the desk in front.&nbsp; She smiled at the man by the desk, stepping forward and introducing herself.&nbsp; He pushed the form to her and she looked of it, only two spaces available on the stained paper.&nbsp; She shrugged, signing her name and putting the date.&nbsp; She smiled and nodded her head before turning, sighting the coffee machine.&nbsp; She looked up and thanked the heavens that there would be some pleasures in this vacation.&nbsp; She went and made herself a good, steaming cup before going to sit.&nbsp; As she sat, she wondered who this woman beside her was.&nbsp; She looked very pretty and it seemed she had brought a bag.&nbsp; Winifred couldn't say anything really, she had her iPod.&nbsp; She began to ponder if they would be the only two here.&nbsp; That didn't seem logical since studies like this needed large groups for true results.&nbsp; She might have been a poli-sci major but she knew enough about science to know that.&nbsp; She smiles to the woman, <strong>"Nice shoes...Are they designer? They look it."</strong> she says, sitting back to sip her delicious drink while she answers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kate</strong> on <strong>06-01-2011, 16:50:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">Hillary Roe (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=93928.msg4090394#msg4090394)<br></div><br>Nothing really seemed that real about the application and opportunity. It felt right but still dreamlike, and as such the journalist boarded the plane only to fall asleep soon afterward, only to be woken by a man yelling above the background din for her to report to the building nearby. While still half asleep Hillary nodded and did what was suggested. The engraved words of "Bennett Corporation" confirmed the plane at least had made it to the place she was expected, still it didn't feel real. But the 20 000 dollars certainly was, which she had used to purchase the sweetest medicinal marijuana to bring with her as well as ... other things.<br><br>With faith others would see to her luggage, Hillary entered the room and was immediately taken back.It was a mess by most stanards, but for a medical laboratory the place was atrocious. What the hell was she getting into ? In shock Hillary gaped while her jaw moved silently. In clumsy motions she signed entry on the desk while the man behind it talked. None of which Hillary heard.<br><br>She noticed she was breathing quickly too quickly, nerves had got the better of her. Instinct prevailed and soon she was fumbling a spliff (OOC: joint or blunts they are called elsewhere - which is just like a ciggarette but with marajuarna in them) to her lips.<br><br><strong>"Medicinal" </strong>Hillary explained with a stutter to vague outlines of people also waiting which her dreamy sight showed her. <br><br>The spliff was soon lit with trembling fingers before it was placed back inside her purse.<br><br>After a long drag her heart rate lessed, breathing slowed ... vision clarified. The roof was covered in yellow, could be water stains due to leaky pipes but Hillary saw it as a sign that smoking was often conducted in the room, at least in the past. <br><br><strong>"If your as nervous as I am happy to give you all one" </strong>Hillary murmured while a nervous smile followed.<br><br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xillen</strong> on <strong>07-01-2011, 03:39:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The clerk frowned as he watched one of the woman grab something resembling a cigarette, but he didn't stop her. Instead, he took a dented, aluminum ashtray from under the desk, and placed it firmly in front of Hillary on the desk, assuming she'd understand the hint.<br><br>The pilot noticed Hillary's bags that remained in the plane. He decided to drag them out of the plane, and place them on the asphalt ground on the side of the air strip.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Silk</strong> on <strong>07-01-2011, 05:11:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Emma as far as she was concerned, was in heaven, but then its not exactly difficult to imagine just how much difference a soft warm room made to those used to roughing it in the streets, it did worry her for a good while, if this was just some kind of elaborate hoax made to abuse the homeless. Indeed it all felt too good to be true, as she sat on this near luxery airplane, or was it average, not that it mattered, it was paradise for Emma.<br><br>Completely lost in her own world being torn back to reality as the plane lands, Emma sat patiently until she was told to leave, as she left the plane she saw a male porter looking for her luggage, smiling a little, she lifted her Stuffed rat doll she brought with her, it was the only one in decent condition. Given the state of her clothing he must have realised that its all she had, her torn jeans, hoodie and shirt is all she really had as possessions.<br><br>Walking into the waiting room, she attempted to file the forms, but was having difficuty, having to ask the staff member what most of those words were, she couldn't see them, she alwasy needed glasses, but given hr financial status, she was never able to get them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xillen</strong> on <strong>07-01-2011, 10:19:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The clerk let out an annoying sigh, and snapped the pen and paper out of her hands, which caused another tear, but he didn't seemed to care. Quickly, he entered the date in the correct box, as he asked: "Name?", entering it as it was given. Finally, he returned the pen and paper to her, and said, sounding a little pissed: "Just put your X here..." as he pointed to the position where her paragraph was to go. Little droplets of sweat were running down from his temples, caused by the heat, as air conditioning seemed completely absent.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Lab [IC]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kate</strong> on <strong>07-01-2011, 16:30:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Noticing her bags were not carried by another, hillary freaked. <br><br>Quickly resting her spliff on the ashtray provided, Hillary produced a set of them and placed them beside the visitors she had not properly introduced herself with along with the lighter. <br><br><strong>"Just in case you do... never know you know ?"</strong> She murmured off offhandedly.<br><br>Before running outside and seeing them placed in a bundle. Well at least none made off with them, thats enough. Strange though the amount of money these people claimed to have would make one think such finishing touches would not be that much to do, still things are they way they are and Hillary saw to them herself.<br><br>Fifteen minutes later Hillary appeared back in the room and struggled to move more bags than what one would think possible for her slight frame into the corner of the waiting room.<br><br><strong>"Phew" </strong>She was about to complain about luggage service but a glance at the state of the room reminded her there wasn't much point.<br><br>Why were the others here ? Questions came tumbling but what seemed sensible to say immediately wasn't.<br><br><strong>"Im Hillary, Hillary Roe... I'm a journalist for channel 11, Im on TV but I don't get the big shows ... Small time big time if that makes sense"<br></strong>
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>