Wilkes

10:26 spikebrennan a ban from the chat is taken really, seriously. "Thou art shunned!"
10:27 Wilkes Excommunicated like the Spanish field mice, you are no longer a creature under god!

10:27 spikebrennan Yea, thou shalt be anathema to the People.
10:28 spikebrennan The brethren shall shun ye; and thou shalt find no succor, neither shalt thou cross the threshold of a dwelling-place of the brethren, their tents and their temples shall be closed to thee.
10:29 Wilkes For thyne crimes are many and manifest in action, both churlish and vexatious
10:30 spikebrennan Thy locutions, none shall hear them. For thou doth suck.


Jonson and Higgins sat at their consoles, their eyes flicking over the displays, with nothing more interesting presenting itself that an illicit smoker out the back of the BRD building and that couple on the third floor of the hospital disappearing off to the light sensitive stores room for the 5th night this week. Jonson leaned over and tapped a newly flashing dull orange light on the maintenance panel with the back of one swollen hairy knuckle and glared at it.
'Higgins, can you head down the shakers and reset OB7?'
Geoffrey Higgins grinned, hoisted himself off the chair, stooping briefly by the door to grab the wrench propped against the waste bin, he trudged out into the hallway, pacing down the hall counting the cabinets till he reached the O's. Turning right past the steady green light on the leading door he walked down to unit 7 and thumbed the access panel, sliding the door open. Hefting the wrench he dealt a short blow to the back of the bulbous fixture inside next to a few older dents. The lights all dropped out to orange, and a few sad clonks and a rattle came out, and the lights flashed orange then went steady red.
'Ah fuck it'
Higgins kicked the door-jamb in frustration, elbowed the access panel, and headed back up the row to the security office as door slid smoothly shut behind him.

Higgins reflected on his job for a moment as the rows of cabinets slipped past, it was dull work, but the pay was alright and if he could handle more areas he should be able to get the money he needed soon enough. Dropping the wrench by the door, 'It's fucked' then flopped into his seat, swivelling it towards to his partner 'Why are you still down here Jonson, you've been working here for, what, six years now?'
Jonson shrugged 'I'm happy where I am, don't really want to move up the company, don't need the money, don't want the responsibility, one shift is really fine by me'
Higgins needed the money for his daughter, he'd been through six jobs in eight months, trading up to whatever paid the most, he'd heard this place was great money for watching cameras.

[detail slow progression of higgins, taking on more a more stimulus, eventually becoming incased in various inputs. cameras eventually switch to the hospital where his wife is watching his daughter, on seeing the date realises he hasn't been home in weeks]

Mrs Higgins sat in the hospital room watching her daughters laboured breathing, knuckles standing out as she listlessly grasped at the chair, brow burrowed, wrestling. It came to her in the end, as she stood next to the bed, and lifted the spare pillow. In the corner of the room, the cameras lens motor whirred. Higgins thrashed against his restraints, spatters of phlegm spraying out past the palp on his tongue while his fingers twitched under the guards, cables bounding and jumping about his wrists and ankles.

Jonson and Dawkins sat at their consoles, their eyes flicking over the displays, with nothing more interesting presenting itself that an illicit smoker out the back of the BRD building and that couple on the third floor of the hospital disapearing off to the light sensitive stores room for the 5th night this week. Jonson leaned over and tapped a newly flashing dull orange light on the maintenance panel with the back of one swollen hairy knuckle and glared at it.
'Dawkins, can you head down the shakers and reset OH13?'
Samuel Dawkins grinned, hoisting himself off the chair, stooping briefly by the door to grab the wrench propped against the waste bin, he trudged out into the hallway, pacing down the hall counting the cabinets till he reached the H's. Turning right past the steady green light on the leading door he walked down to unit 13 and thumbed the access panel, sliding the door open. Hefting the wrench he dealt a short blow to the back of the smooth bulbous fixture. The lights all dropped out to orange, and a few sad clonks and a rattle came out of the machine, and the lights flashed orange then went steady red.
'Ah fuck it'
Dawkins kicked the door-jamb in frustration, elbowed the access panel, and headed back up the row to the security office as the door slid smoothly shut behind him.
'That one was brand new'

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