Gibson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
userless) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalost2011-05-02 06:57 pm
userless) wrote in paradisalost2011-05-02 06:57 pm
Entry tags:
second cycle
[Gibson was slowly starting to get accustomed to this new world, though it seemed to his Outlands-adjusted eyes that the vile sun was actually staying in the sky for longer every day, bit by bit. He hoped it wasn't a permanent progression. Almost the first thing he'd done once he'd found his room was make it much, much darker.
Within a few "days", though, Gibson had come to the uncomfortable discovery that not only was Rinzler down the hall from him, so was Abraxas. Needless to say, he hadn't been back to his room since.
There was a lot of the rest of the castle to explore, though, from the inefficient paper archives to the bizarre room that was, as far as Gibson could tell, solely for the purpose of making things to stick in your mouth. (He'd had "food" explained to him, but that didn't make the thought any less palatable, so to speak.) So he'd spent the past few days checking everything out, spending his days mostly in the Insolitus because it was nice and dark, and since programs didn't really need sleep unless they had to recompile.
What he hadn't found was a single Energy Transfer Conduit, pool of energy, or even, at the various drinking establishments in the castle, a simple energy drink. Those disgusting "Red Bull" and "Rockstar" liquids were not energy, no matter what the labels claimed.
So here he was, circuits dangerously low, prodding at the one thing he knew had to have energy, because it's what the lamps were plugged into. He could see it with the tiniest effort, energy coming from the wall and through the cord and then out to one of those inefficient incandescent bulbs. It was an unfamiliar kind of energy, sure, but if he just tried a little, maybe he could--]
User help me....
[And he sticks his hand into the electrical socket.
This doesn't go as planned.
There is now a brightly glowing, shirtless program lying down in the middle of one of the castle hallways. His hood has slipped down and his hair is standing up in all directions.]
There's got to be a better way to do that.
[Open in person or over journal!]
Within a few "days", though, Gibson had come to the uncomfortable discovery that not only was Rinzler down the hall from him, so was Abraxas. Needless to say, he hadn't been back to his room since.
There was a lot of the rest of the castle to explore, though, from the inefficient paper archives to the bizarre room that was, as far as Gibson could tell, solely for the purpose of making things to stick in your mouth. (He'd had "food" explained to him, but that didn't make the thought any less palatable, so to speak.) So he'd spent the past few days checking everything out, spending his days mostly in the Insolitus because it was nice and dark, and since programs didn't really need sleep unless they had to recompile.
What he hadn't found was a single Energy Transfer Conduit, pool of energy, or even, at the various drinking establishments in the castle, a simple energy drink. Those disgusting "Red Bull" and "Rockstar" liquids were not energy, no matter what the labels claimed.
So here he was, circuits dangerously low, prodding at the one thing he knew had to have energy, because it's what the lamps were plugged into. He could see it with the tiniest effort, energy coming from the wall and through the cord and then out to one of those inefficient incandescent bulbs. It was an unfamiliar kind of energy, sure, but if he just tried a little, maybe he could--]
User help me....
[And he sticks his hand into the electrical socket.
This doesn't go as planned.
There is now a brightly glowing, shirtless program lying down in the middle of one of the castle hallways. His hood has slipped down and his hair is standing up in all directions.]
There's got to be a better way to do that.
[Open in person or over journal!]