TDM #1

[goneawaymod]

TEST DRIVE #1

So it's your first day at your new job! Welcome to the Jorgmund Family™! It's time to settle into your new workplace on the Piper 90 rig, the coziest place of employment this side of the Livable Zone. A leader in its industry, Jorgmund is excited to have you join them in enthusiastically envisioneering team-driven paradigms.  

The Piper 90 rig's mission is not only an impressive undertaking in terms of impactful customer-oriented deliverables, it's providing a vital backbone to the Livable Zone by creating a safe region for citizens to live, work, and play. Jorgmund's "outside the box" thinking means they understand the importance of wisely investing in their human capital - you! You'll soon find that you'll take pride in this vital work - and the benefits can't be beat.

Rest assured, Jorgmund's multidisciplinary approach to our world's period of recovery means we know how to keep it real when facing this opportunity for restructuring and growth. Jorgmund: Even if most of the world has gone away, we can make a world of difference!

Synergy!

USEFUL LINKS
It is recommended you check out the following links first for info on the rig, rig conditions, game mechanics, and the intro and slideshow your characters would have to endure that takes place chronologically before the Test Drive Meme: 

Welcome/Arrival  | Rig Weather & Hazards | Rig Setting Page | Game Mechanics

SCENARIO #1 - MOVE-IN DAY!

After the bewildering and unpleasant onboarding process, you've finally been unleashed on the rig. (Well. To places you're allowed to go on the rig.) It's time to get acquainted with your new surroundings, process some of All Of That™, and meet your fellow captives - err, coworkers!

a) A BIT OF A MESS
Perhaps you're hungry? The mess hall food isn't amazing, but it does the job. Characters that have higher metabolic needs than your average human might be left feeling a little hungry, though. The worst part is actually the electronic sliding door: a small sign helpfully informs you that if you want inside, you need to smile for the camera! In addition to being patronizing, this may be a problem for characters who refuse to play ball, or characters with sufficiently nonhuman faces the door sensor can't read them. Remember, if then company doesn't see people like you, it's not discriminatory -- it's just indifferent! And that isn't legally actionable!

b) GOING NOWHERE FAST
The rig's elevators are a little off-kilter today. Overhead announcements mention this, but downplay the severity and are easy to miss -- which means you and your threadmate are stuck in here, somewhere between the fifth and sixth floor. You can complain into the emergency intercomm, but it might take from a few minutes up to an hour before the elevator gets rolling again. How do you pass the time?

c) SHOULD'VE TAKEN THAT LEFT TURN
You're really just trying to get somewhere else on the rig, but you've gotten hopelessly lost. Oh well, at least you're not alone! Did you run into your threadmate here? Did you lead them astray? Are they at fault? Even worse, are you somewhere full of AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY signs, mysterious equipment, and a worrying number of security cameras?

d) NEED A HAND?
You've been assigned a room and some relatively spare possessions to put in it. Unfortunately, it seems that the staff assigned to help move in new hires are all busy at the moment. Unless you want to wait around, you're going to need to lug and assemble your new assigned foldable den furniture yourself. Do you team up with another newbie? Do you try it alone and find yourself needing help? Do you come to the rescue of someone else who did that?

e) SPECIAL DELIVERY
Somebody in processing decided to give you two a quick little errand: you're supposed to take a couple boxes of files up to the executive deck. Unfortunately, a skeptical security staffer is giving you a hard time on your way there, on account of your funny-looking face, insufficient ID or sketchy-looking package. How do you deal with this and accomplish your task?

f) BLOW OFF STEAM
You're likely still a bit sore from Jorgmund fitting you with the nanochain, but you were promised a gym and you are going to use that gym, dammit. It looks like you're not alone in deciding to try out the training area. Do you train together? Spar to let some frustration out? Or are you gonna argue about whose turn it is on which piece of equipment and resent your lost solitude? You'll also find you have to contend with the communal showers when you're done.

g) NO REST FOR THE WEARY
It's the middle of the night on the rig. You're displaced from home, it's not very warm, your door doesn't shut because privacy is a "privilege" nobody has earned yet, and occasional mysterious clanging noises ring through the rig. You can't sleep, not yet, and perhaps you're not the only insomniac wandering the crew deck?

SCENARIO #2 - YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO PANIC

Around dawn on the morning of Day Two, something goes wrong. (Wrong-er?) You awake to the sound of alarms, and a voice over the speakers telling you NOT TO PANIC! A Stuff storm has caused a brief and contained leak onto Piper 90. You may encounter strange sights or sounds. Any anomalies should be reported immediately to rig security. Thank you for your cooperation!

The nature of the problem isn't immediately clear, but over the next handful of hours you find yourself embroiled in a bizarre fracas: a Stuff leak has caused numerous inanimate objects on the rig to come to life. Furniture and appliances small and large are roaming the decks. Some of them are docile, but others are aggressive (or just troublesome due to their size). Some examples:

• A rogue photocopier spewing paper and ink
• A mahogany conference table with old clawed feet and a brand new gaping jaw
• A water cooler that scuttles the halls, squirting people with jets in varying temperatures
• Small office supplies like pencils and paperclips that swarm in large numbers
• Dressers and drawers that spit their contents at high velocity
• A room's worth of folding chairs that hunt as a pack
• An emergency fire hose that attempts to ensnare crew members in its coils
• The angriest coffee pot you have ever seen

The objects can be dangerous, but are more strange, troublesome, and determined than deadly. If a foe seems to be incapacitated or "plays dead," even the aggressive conference table or hose will leave them with bruises and move on. Crew members who get in over their heads will be bailed out by security personnel as the incident dies down. Jorgmund staff stresses that the leak has been contained (so no new anomalies will appear), but after the initial surprise it's everyone's job to help hunt down and dispose of the Stuff-altered... stuff. It's gonna be a long morning, and you haven't even been properly briefed yet!

h) GOOD MORNING, PIPER 90
Rise and shine! There are alarms going off, announcements blaring, and people are scrambling around trying to figure out what's going on. You're one of them. Freak out? Spring into action? Team up with someone to shake down a staffer for more details? Run into someone new, perhaps literally?

i) INTERIOR WRECKORATING
You've been ambushed by an animate object that seems to have it in for you, or you've heard the shouts of someone who has and come running to help. What's ruining your morning now, and what are you going to do about it?

j) ON THE RUN
The folding chairs from Presentation Room B operate as a unit, harrying their prey through the halls with much scrambling of legs and flapping of seats. They're after you, at the moment. Can you escape, or perhaps lead them into a trap? Or do you stand your ground?

k) HERE'S THE PLAN
You and your threadmate have found somewhere secure (for now) and are deciding how to deal with a larger enemy. Are you hunting it, or is it hunting you? Are you planning to take it out of commission, or just how to get away from it? Or are you just gonna hide here and lay low until this is over?

l) PROP HUNT
Things are getting back under control, thankfully. Large disturbances have been disposed of, but that leaves the little things like elusive chains of paperclips, a small but vicious stapler, pens and markers that write rude words on walls, and utensils from the mess hall. These anomalies are stealthier, but must still be dealt with, and it's up to you to flush them out.

m) CLEAN UP IN AISLE EVERYTHING
The chaos has passed, and now you've been instructed to clean up a mess. Ink or loose paper from the copier, coffee from the rampaging pot, mopping up after a water cooler, scrubbing marker off a wall, etc. You might get roped into contending with the Yuck Puddle, which is a permanent fixture and not a new development, but someone's always contending with the Yuck Puddle.

OOC DETAILS
➤ Feel free to play around with powers. If your character has powers from canon you want to play around with, go for it. If you'd like to test out possibilities for game powers, also go for it. Feel free to change it up from thread to thread if you need to. This can be handwaved as exposure to Stuff making characters' powers shift a few times before settling.

➤ Potential players may use test drive threads as their log samples. However, at least one post in their thread must fit the requirements for apps, both in length (200 words) and in quality. If you do plan on using a thread as a sample, please make sure the writing throughout your threads is a good example of your writing skills and has some solid examples of the character's voice.

➤ Players can eventually count TDMs towards AC. They can only count towards comment-based AC proofs.

➤ Potential players can opt to keep these threads as game canon when they app in, or start over fresh, based on preference. The Stuff bringing them to the game universe can fog their memories, if players don't want their character to remember TDM threads when introing into the game.

➤ The game is invite-only. Players without invites are allowed to tdm since some of them may know someone in game to ask for one, and since some people enjoy TDMs just for fun in games they don't plan to app into. But an invite is required during the apping process.

➤ The game is at a starting cap at 30 players. Right now the current number of invitees is likely to not exceed the game's 30 slots, but if we go a few over they will still be allowed to app during this first round. Future apps will be rolling apps and will have a wait queue if the cap has been exceeded.

➤ The first game round will be apps only, no reserves. Apps open: Sat 4/11/20. Game start: Fri 4/17/20.

Comments

[wheyoftheadept]

"Yeah, it does," Saturday says absently. "I mean, not UCAS, they don't even field cops. But Lone Star, Knight Errant and the rest, the contracted security gigs - they'll at least come in, but not in groups less than five and not without ordnance. And they won't unless there's real people in danger, you know, a burbclave or a SINner or something."

She's still thinking about arrows, and bubbling wet breath, and a heart that holding on tight couldn't keep beating.

[greatlyexaggerated]

He hesitates to take the Lho-stick, amasec being more his vice, but when he does, he sucks it down in about ten seconds flat and spends the rest of the explanation in uncomfortable numbness and a little nausea. What she's saying, is starting to make sense. Not exactly, and not quite - but it almost sounds like a theory or explanation of the empyrean, even if poorly explained second hand. But it is a good metaphor. He understands what she's talking about, instantly, down in his gut.

"They're called daemons," he says quietly. "You're talking about the Ruinous Powers, and daemons that have ripped their way into realspace."

Well, the cat's already out of the bag. He's allowed to say it, since it looks like she's already well-acquainted with the topic.

"Unnatural is a terribly apt way to put it. It's an enemy I've faced several times, and I've witnessed things no man should ever see in that pursuit." He blinks hard, chasing away memories of melting flesh and coy smiles, and he doesn't even have to pretend to need a moment to re-center himself. He clears his throat. "You're working on it alone? That seems like a... significant undertaking."

[tarnishedavenger]

He feels you, Dojima.

"I know how you feel. You hear about people being kidnapped to alternate dimensions sometimes, but you never expect it to happen to you."

...Or maybe not.

"The best thing you can do is just keep putting one foot in front of the other. We'll probably get rescued by someone from home sooner or later." That's Armstrong's plan. Keep calm and carry on until he figures out what to do about all of this or until VIPER comes to burn this place to the ground. Then again, finding them could take... quite a while. He's realistic enough to expect quite a bit of a wait before any rescue can be affected.

[takenalive]

He has the sense the translations here might not be matching up precisely. That's the peril of talking to aliens, of course. Even with the universal nature of thought-speech it's a best-fit sort of thing, and his translation chip is twenty five years out of date. Ah, well.

Alloran muses, <Rarely. If the Electorate knows enough of a reason and a majority feels strongly, they may vote to hold a trial, but that's very rare. More often Andalite High Command strips the authority from an individual and his rank becomes something closer to a technicality.>

Maybe the votes did come in during his capture and the trial happened without him. Prince Seerow remained a prince, but he was hated more by the military than the civilian government, and then he was killed in such a way that broadly evoked pity more than scorn. The traitors on the homeworld had never said anything about it. It was probably a morale issue.

<I have not been home in a long time, but these things are slow to change, even in difficult times.>

[likeits1999]

Kevin absently gives a little thump to the railing on his way off the stairs, just to hear the low ring.

"I get the feeling you're not from where I'm from in more ways than just the whole other sides of America thing," he says.

F/G

[monkey_wrench]

When it came to sleep Jack had two settings ‘don’t wake me for the next twelve hours or perish’ and ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’. And in this place, it seemed he’d be doing an awful lot of the latter. Kidnappings and threats of electrocution didn't foster a comfortable sleeping environment. Who knew?

Walking around the rig with its flickering fluorescent lights, unsettling creaks and groans and labyrinthian hallways hadn't been his first choice, but it beat just laying there in that claustrophobic cubical of a room with nothing to do but listen to the restless noises of the strangers he was bunked with, and concentrate on the soreness of fresh surgical scars until he’d felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin.

The gym also normally wouldn’t be his first choice for a restless nights distraction, but considering there wasn’t much else open to the “new hires” this late and it was one of the few easy places to find on this junk heap, well, beggars couldn’t be choosers and all that jazz.

The place was huge, one of the few areas these cheapskates hadn’t skimped on apparently, which felt a bit ominous. Good indication of where their priorities for them laid. He didn’t even know how to use all of the equipment in here, some of the weight machines looking more like unessisarily complicated torture devises then something used for exercise. But the small roller hockey rink was easy enough to figure out and while not the same as ice skating it was still close enough to familiar to get lost in the motion of it.

At least until the sudden sounds of someone clambering around the other side of the gym broke the silence, startling him badly enough to lose his footing and gracelessly crash to the floor.

Investigating, after he’s managed to peel himself off the lacquered surface, it’s with a sour expression that he ends up leaning against a wall to watch a bit of Kevin’s impromptu parkour session. Normally he’d probably find it at least a bit impressive. The dudes fast, scary fast, and the flow of his movements as he navigates over the equipment in almost hypnotizing. Guy could probably give Chase and the monks a run for their money. But right now he's more interested in waiting until the most inconvenient time to potentially distract him, cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling out, “Don’t fall!”

[becauseimacoward]

"I doubt that"

Dojima replied with what seemed like absolute certainty. He waited a moment, like he had to get his thoughts in order or let the weight of his words soak in, and continued:

"If we want to go back we'll have to do it ourselves. Someone from outside rescuing anyone here is very unlikely"

He's sure there will be an opportunity to fight back someday. The problem is...that, well, if they fail, he's sure it'll all be over. Hell, thanks to the collars they got implanted they can be stopped even while they're acting! The odds aren't on their favor.

But it still seems more likely than anyone rescuing them successfully. They can only count on themselves and probably each other, he's sure of it!

[likeits1999]

Kevin's apparent plan is to gun it for the stairs, which he takes to with the ease of somebody who doesn't actually have to breathe. Between the werewolf attacking its legs, the narrower space, and the stairs, the table has no choice but to slow down. It's sort of jammed into the stairwell with Stacia now, not quite able to turn to bite her as well as it clearly wants to.

Kevin peers down on the snapping, splintery disaster zone below for a moment, then hops the rail and comes down on the top of the table himself. He grabs one edge and strains, bending the animate wood backward, making it harder for the table to kick with the two nearest legs and distracting it.

[cachedout]

"Right."

This guy's a bewildering and rude stranger, but points go where they're due even if "sucks" might be the understatement of the century for Piper 90 so far.

Cayde feels the focus settle on him, and it's not altogether unfamiliar, but it's a kind of attention he's mostly preferred to avoid over the last couple centuries. Today's getting better and better, it seems.

If he's lucky, just getting this guy back somewhere he's supposed to be will get him to detach. If he's not, he'll have to find some means of scraping. Ugh. Either way, he definitely can't continue this project with a guy who lights trash fires in tow.

"Follow me," he says, turning to head back how he came. "Who are you, anyway? And how'd you get up here?"

[cachedout]

If Cayde's honest, he's a little jealous. His Light feels... suppressed, anemic, more difficult to draw. A grenade or a fistful of knives takes more from him, and that more comes back slower. If he could do what this guy's doing...

Focus, Cayde.

"Keep 'em busy a minute, I can finish this!"

[cachedout]

"It's easy. You steal."

Well, "stealing" is probably a more dramatic way to put it than "I waited until someone wasn't watching a computer and had a really exciting adventure where they almost caught me figuring out how their dinosaur net search works," but Cayde playing for drama just means his head's still well-attached even if other bits of him aren't.

Cayde slides onto the bench and is quiet for just slightly longer than is normal for him, bracing, unsure how to approach the inevitable. Does he have to? He has to eventually, but...

[wheyoftheadept]

"Well, not me alone. Me and my crew, and some people we picked up along the way." She is shaking a little with relief; she saw in his face that he understands, as it were, the situation. "Like I said, those in the know are just - resigned to it. Maybe they're right, they're all a lot older than me. But there has to be a solve, something - "

At some point in her lecture, she'd stopped walking. Now she leans against the wall, crushing the butt of her cigarette under one heel, and lights up another.

"We call them horrors, or just the enemy. Mostly just 'the enemy.' I dunno how it works for you, but for us - if we name them, it gives them a foothold, right? Like we're saying they're supposed to be there, we've made them part of our world, in a super literal way. So 'the enemy' is about as specific as anyone likes to get."

She gestures a little with her cigarette, the smoke trailing in random patterns. "What threw me is, like, for us, being a magic user doesn't present like, a special risk? Maybe it makes it easier for some of them to find you and turn you, but - heck, if you don't have those powers, they can just give them to you. Which is a thing that's happened! If the bastards have a foothold, everyone's equally at risk. There's no safety in just not using magic, because the magic that's letting them in the rising background levels."

In her agitation, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pointed, delicate, obviously-elven-despite-her-size-and-features ear.

"I mean, fuck's sake, it even gets in our goddamn DNA," she continues, warming to her subject and momentarily oblivious to any reaction this might have caused.

[morebetter]

Oh, good. Mac's nose is still smarting and starting to go red from being punched earlier when he, equally benignly, tried to wake someone with a much more pronounced startle response. Still, the first thing Robbie says is way too fast for Mac to put together. "Huh?"

This isn't a particularly planned request, just the guileless, undirected wandering of someone who hasn't slept without at least one friend in easy reach since childhood, so the barrage of questions goes about a mile wide. There are no whos, whats, wheres, when, whys or hows, there's just: "I don't know, dude, I couldn't sleep and your door was open. I figured if you were awake we could go try and break into the mess hall and find out where the good snacks are."

Nothing bonds people like a scheme, in Mac's opinion. Even people he didn't like to start with and continues to despise become friends through a good scheme, a break-and-enter or a roleplay where they pretend to have authority or a public theater performance or some other friendship-by-fire of transgressing the rules and making poor decisions comprehensible only to the participants. So Mac figures if he's going to meet people he wants to continue spending time with, he should give them something to do together, and that's what he comes up with.

"I'm Mac. Who are you?" with all the etiquette of a tractor in a dining room.

[likeits1999]

"Okay that's a good point about it being somebody else's problem," Kevin admits. "And I am like, more strong and less squishable than most people. How are you on the breaking tables front?"

She's definitely like maybe 15 or something, but Kevin isn't exactly all he looks like either.

[likeits1999]

"Um. Like, sometimes there are axes for fires but I ain't seen one of those since I got here, man."

This Draco guy is some kind of magical wizard guy, and Kevin wishes he did have a wand. Magic wizard people make weird dumb problems so much easier. Usually by lighting them on fire, sure, but it's something.

"I can... maybe fight it? But all I got's my hands and it's kinda hard."

[morebetter]

Shit. Mac actually isn't sure if she's fucking with him or if he's actually successfully bluffed an executive thoroughly enough to get in trouble. Neither is great. He catches the ball, but not without a bit of an obvious fumble and a too-panicky flinch as it nears his face.

"Oh, I, uh...I mean, Johnson, pshaw, he's such a pussy about these things, I've got everything totally taken care of. My projections aren't late, he's just, you know, paranoid." Painfully obvious squeezing of the rubber ball. "The annointed price mortage cap...the whole thing is completely taken care of, so, uh, you can go back and report to him that everything's fine..."

He picks at a sticker on the ball, chewing the inside of his mouth. "Anyway, I'm going to need to see ID if you're going to loiter around a place for authorized people, Johnson or not."

[likeits1999]

"I believe you, dude," Kevin says. "But hey, now you don't gotta."

Hopefully. Ideally. They might get attacked by a hallway vending machine or a decorative fake plant next for all Kevin knows.

"I have kinda recently been finding my beating-stuff-up skills are maybe way less good than I thought, but I am also like. Not very big. You're a centaur, right?"

The coast seems clear for now, he can afford to ask the burning (if obvious) question.

[likeits1999]

Kevin pops down off the latest conquest (a big, floppy cargo net you're supposed to climb) so he can get a better look at this guy. He didn't expect to run into anybody, and it shows.

"Um, I don't know if it's like... actual parkour really, but I know how to do some stuff?" he answers. "I don't need nobody to know I've been messing around down here, it's fine."

And for the better, probably. It occurs to Kevin that you can maybe get your privileges revoked for doing dumb dangerous stuff on equipment. Disappointing, but likely.

[morebetter]

"Holy shit."

That was definitely not the result Mac expected, and Mac previously believed he suspended his disbelief sufficiently for anything upon getting here. Somehow, watching a girl successfully smash her foot through a rampaging copier is enough to rattle him, and for a moment he just stands there, stunned, bleeding slightly from where a shard of glass slicked past his cheek, watching as the copier tries to crush Nora to death.

And then he takes action. Not for Nora, really, because clearly this is her problem now, but because it's probably going to reflect terribly on him whenever news of this gets back to the Powers That Stuck an Electrode in His Neck. He scraps together just enough wits to grab a can of soda, pop it open-

-and dump it all over the copier, because if Mac's learned anything from being too drunk to follow Bill Nye the way-too-hyper-scientist-dude, it's that machines are generally allergic to liquid. It's programmed into them or something.

The copier, miraculously and terrifyingly - Mac scrambles for cover - sparks and jerks away from Nora, dragging its crippled front end against the ground. It angrily out papers at the two of them, but the readout panel flickering on and off betrays a combination of mortal woundings.

"Well?" Mac looks at Nora. "Kick it again!"

[likeits1999]

Kevin squints at what he's doing, evidently curious. At first he thought it was some kind of note-to-self or something, but he doesn't look like he's writing so much as drawing.

"How?" he asks. He doesn't mean to be rude about it, there's no petulance, but he's a bit confused.

[morebetter]

He follows along with where Cayde leads; regardless of Mac's tendency to go off and do his own thing, he's really more comfortable as a follower, latching onto and amplifying the actions of others.

"I'm Mac." He says that as if it answers all the necessary questions, no need for a description of where he's from or what he does. That very clearly doesn't matter much here, and he may, actually, be one of the few who's come to terms with that so quickly. "And I just kind of walked up here. You know, for a bunch of hallways and rooms that are supposably for authorized people only, the security around here is really underwhelming."

He can't help but add "I'm a security professional, so I notice these sorts of things" as if Paddy's has ever had more comprehensive or professional security than a bolt on the door and a handwritten sign saying SAY CHEESE, YOU ARE BEEN TAPED. "Do you have a name or like...a serial number?"

It's honestly not meant to be offensive, which possibly makes it more offensive.

Re: e)

[oopseration]

"Queer name." There's only a hint of judgment there, and certainly no real understanding of modern contexts for the term 'queer'. "Dr. Edward Armstrong."

He puts emphasis on doctor as if to neglect it would be an unbearable snub. The way he talks has a fragrance of being patronizing, partially because she's female and partially because he's just like that.

"You're tasked with something too, I imagine?" He jangles the box in his hands.

[likeits1999]

Kevin's walking along a horizontal bar that you're supposed to use for pullups and preparing to hop to its shorter neighbor when somebody startles him. He stumbles, overcorrects, and goes over — "Fuck!" — but manages to catch the bar with an ankle as he goes and swing through the opening underneath, bending his knees to pull himself up and get a grip with his hands as well as his ankles around the bar before he loses it entirely.

It's fine, he's got it, he's hanging from the bar like a goon but nothing hurts. He's good.

He turns to look for whoever shouted at him, having missed the guy coming in. He was totally focused on what he was doing, finding that almost meditative space that the motion can be for him, and it's a bit disorienting to come out from that by surprise.

"I was workin' on it," he calls back, a bit lamely, trying to gauge sincerity vs sarcasm in retrospect for something that he wasn't paying his best attention to.

You know, while also hanging upside-down.

[morebetter]

"Pretty sure we're supposed to use the gym. Why else would it be here?" It could be a trap, Mac guesses, but that seems like a really stupid and probably illegal trap. He doesn't see any signs telling people to not climb the equipment, and he's pretty sure that if you're going to get someone in trouble for doing something obvious in your establishment, you have to put signs up according to the law. That's the whole logic behind those "no shirt no shoes no service" signs, which he's probably too familiar with on account of both Charlie and Dennis and sometimes Frank.

Mac does not approach any of the gym equipment. He just squints down his nose and watches Kevin while he idly wanders.

"Are you what, sixteen? I thought they were only hiring adults." Hiring, abducting - Mac's already absorbing Jorgmund's lingo for everything that happens here. He can't help it; this whole experience has been much too comprehensive for him to contort, collapse and stuff into his own worldview, and so he's incapable of doing anything adopting theirs. It's an unfortunate side effect of the fact that he decided about five minutes into this whole nightmare that he wasn't going to actually consider anything happening around him as a problem to be fixed so much as a situation he's already totally handling.

He stops his pacing when he comes across the baseball launcher. "Hey, have you tried this thing out?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam can't help but laugh at that. "Well, I mostly run to keep somewhat in shape." And be able to outrun the shit he and Dean deal with. "Well, I think I'll probably mostly get my chance to use those sorts of shoes here. I kinda doubt they're going to go all out and buy actual running shoes for those of us who prefer to run."

His uniform is already a little high water. Long legs and cheap corporations don't mix.