Re: Journal of Sociology [S!6] - [Round One: The Pacific Spire]
05-15-2012, 10:30 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Snowyowl.
Oli materialised, stumbled when he was allowed to move again, took two steps back when he noticed the vertigo-inducing view, and finally collapsed on the floor when he realised he'd been kidnapped by some crazy superpowered sociologist who could teleport people and was now in the Pacific Spire which wasn't a place that even existed and there was an experiment and something was going to happen on floor two hundred and fifty something how was there even a floor number that big and does being teleported give you cancer or something-
Someone coughed, nervously. Oli rolled over and looked up. There was a desk in front of him, and a man at the desk was leaning over the desk and staring at him. There were a few awkward seconds where neither party knew what to do. Then Oli stood up and gave a genial smile. "Hello! Can I help you?"
"Who... how..." stuttered the desk's owner, before settling on "... what are you wearing?"
Oli looked down at himself. "Cloak, t-shirt, trousers, shoes. Oh, and a hat." So... he was in some sort of office space? "It's the new thing, my boss read about it somewhere. Dressing casually - no, sorry, dressing fancifully - helps promote a Relaxed Atmosphere and Encourages Creative Minds," he said, making sure to enunciate the capital letters. "Doesn't look like anyone else on this floor has heard of it, but it was a big hit among my friends. So... if you see someone in a jewelled ballgown or a suit of leather armour walking around the place, that's probably the reason. Are you feeling more Relaxed, Creative, or Productive yet, by the way?"
"Er..."
"Hmm, might not be working then. Sorry, I'm... on my coffee break, and I thought I'd take a look around. See what people get up to on this floor. I'm new here, you see. Oli Nelson." Oli extended his hand.
The man behind the desk hesitated, then shook Oli's hand. "... I'm Peter. Uh, that is-"
"It's a pleasure to meet you" said Oli gravely. It really was helping him cope, the relative normality of annoying passers-by. "So... why is there a gun on your desk?"
"Well... I mean... don't you have one too?" asked Peter.
"Oh yes," said Oli. "It's in my bag, here. Of course. Why wouldn't I have a gun? No, I meant to ask... why are you carrying it in the open like that? Are you really going to need it at a moment's notice?"
"Oh. That's a good point. It has been very quiet here, hasn't it?" Oli nodded encouragingly. "I guess it's in case they manage to get soldiers through the front lines. Spies and things. But you're right, if there are spies among us then I shouldn't put my gun where they can steal it, right?"
"Hey, don't ask me. There's probably a good reason why they have you do things differently on this floor. How should I know, right?"
It was at this point that Oli noticed a curious security guard walking towards him. He didn't exactly look friendly, and if Oli was in a setting where office workers carried pistols openly, he'd hate to think what the guards had. "Actually, I've just realised my coffee break finished two minutes ago. I'm a bit lost... could you tell me where the lifts are?"
Peter pointed at a sign saying "Lifts" with an arrow on it. "Ah yes, didn't see that when I came in. Thanks, then, I'd best be off." Oli grabbed his bag, and left at the brisk and dynamic pace of someone who is late for a meeting, and certainly not the hurried and cowardly pace of someone who is running from people who are better armed than him.
Oli materialised, stumbled when he was allowed to move again, took two steps back when he noticed the vertigo-inducing view, and finally collapsed on the floor when he realised he'd been kidnapped by some crazy superpowered sociologist who could teleport people and was now in the Pacific Spire which wasn't a place that even existed and there was an experiment and something was going to happen on floor two hundred and fifty something how was there even a floor number that big and does being teleported give you cancer or something-
Someone coughed, nervously. Oli rolled over and looked up. There was a desk in front of him, and a man at the desk was leaning over the desk and staring at him. There were a few awkward seconds where neither party knew what to do. Then Oli stood up and gave a genial smile. "Hello! Can I help you?"
"Who... how..." stuttered the desk's owner, before settling on "... what are you wearing?"
Oli looked down at himself. "Cloak, t-shirt, trousers, shoes. Oh, and a hat." So... he was in some sort of office space? "It's the new thing, my boss read about it somewhere. Dressing casually - no, sorry, dressing fancifully - helps promote a Relaxed Atmosphere and Encourages Creative Minds," he said, making sure to enunciate the capital letters. "Doesn't look like anyone else on this floor has heard of it, but it was a big hit among my friends. So... if you see someone in a jewelled ballgown or a suit of leather armour walking around the place, that's probably the reason. Are you feeling more Relaxed, Creative, or Productive yet, by the way?"
"Er..."
"Hmm, might not be working then. Sorry, I'm... on my coffee break, and I thought I'd take a look around. See what people get up to on this floor. I'm new here, you see. Oli Nelson." Oli extended his hand.
The man behind the desk hesitated, then shook Oli's hand. "... I'm Peter. Uh, that is-"
"It's a pleasure to meet you" said Oli gravely. It really was helping him cope, the relative normality of annoying passers-by. "So... why is there a gun on your desk?"
"Well... I mean... don't you have one too?" asked Peter.
"Oh yes," said Oli. "It's in my bag, here. Of course. Why wouldn't I have a gun? No, I meant to ask... why are you carrying it in the open like that? Are you really going to need it at a moment's notice?"
"Oh. That's a good point. It has been very quiet here, hasn't it?" Oli nodded encouragingly. "I guess it's in case they manage to get soldiers through the front lines. Spies and things. But you're right, if there are spies among us then I shouldn't put my gun where they can steal it, right?"
"Hey, don't ask me. There's probably a good reason why they have you do things differently on this floor. How should I know, right?"
It was at this point that Oli noticed a curious security guard walking towards him. He didn't exactly look friendly, and if Oli was in a setting where office workers carried pistols openly, he'd hate to think what the guards had. "Actually, I've just realised my coffee break finished two minutes ago. I'm a bit lost... could you tell me where the lifts are?"
Peter pointed at a sign saying "Lifts" with an arrow on it. "Ah yes, didn't see that when I came in. Thanks, then, I'd best be off." Oli grabbed his bag, and left at the brisk and dynamic pace of someone who is late for a meeting, and certainly not the hurried and cowardly pace of someone who is running from people who are better armed than him.