trustfelled | Week 5.

Week 5.

WEEK 5
Another week has passed; another two people have died. Tsubasa Hanekawa and Nachetanya Loei Piena Augustra have joined the ranks of the deceased. Whatever you may have thought about them in the end, one thing hovers heavy over the group: the fact that neither their compassion nor their ambition was enough to keep them alive in here.

Is yours?

Saturday is given to regrouping and rest; the static blares out early on Sunday, but at least there are no bodies to find today - it seems you're safe for now. The night before wasn't necessarily a peaceful one, however; you'll probably feel a bit groggy when you wake up, and it seems you've regained something that you didn't realize you'd lost...

And of course, with another successful trial comes a new addition to the building, another corridor opening up on the west side of the building. The doors leading to it branch off of the hallways leading to the second and fourth sections of the building; have those doors always been there? You can't remember...

It's a new week. Of course, that means you've been here for over a month, and your stay doesn't seem to be coming to a close yet.

PATIENTS REMAINING: 22

SUNDAY | MONDAY | TUESDAY | WEDNESDAY | THURSDAY
[OOC: Welcome to week five of Trustfell! Feel free to make as many top levels as you'd like and tag out to other characters! This post is for all of your interactions this week... at least until the weekend. Don't forget to save those threads for coins and the activity check!

If you'd like to get in contact with the Transmitter, you can do so through text or the phone in your room!]

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[The sabotage was done successfully -- all credit to little Wheatley, of course, the human was just following his orders -- (yeah right) and now the test subject and him were speeding through the transportation tubes towards GLaDOS' lair. The moment of freedom was close! But Wheatley's feelings of elation kinda diminished when he once again found the envelope with his secret, stashed somewhere in his room. He had tried to forget it since he had received it, not even bothering to open and read what the Risen had gotten about him. There was only one thing it could say, and he didn't want to be reminded of that. Fed up with having the secret in his room, Wheatley decides to get rid of it.

But wait! If someone caught him disposing of that, then they'll get suspicious and there'll be awkward questions. No, there had to be a way to dispose of that unopened secret without anyone seeing him. But how...?

If you walk around the hospital, you may stumble upon a very lost-looking defective and weird machine. The frankenturret has an envelope on its back, precariously balanced. 'Get rid of this' it had been told, but looks like it still doesn't follow orders very well. If you approach, the turret will chirp sounds of alarm and run away as fast as possible, dropping the envelope.

The name on the envelope is clear enough: 'Wheatley', and you may recognize it as the same envelopes for the secrets motive. Want to open it?

'Wheatley was built with one single purpose: be attached to the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System (GLaDOS) and create a constant stream of bad ideas to make her less dangerous. In GLaDOS' own words:

"He's not just a regular moron. He's the product of the greatest minds of a generation working together with the express purpose of building the dumbest moron who ever lived."

Wheatley is fully aware of these facts, and he's in profound denial about them to the point he can be extremely dangerous if left unchecked, whether it's in his attempts to be helpful, look smarter than he is, or given a position of unbridled power"

The secret is worded with more urgency than it warrants, but the core message is definitely true, no doubt about that.

If you wish to talk to Wheatley, he's in the kitchen, working on the cake #486. It's actually looking rather good! It's a simple two-tier cake, but it's sweet and isn't falling apart. Nothing spectacular, though]

Edited 2017-07-02 17:00 (UTC)

[...You know, he understands now why Wheatley's first reaction upon seeing Wesker with one of these turret-things was to immediately go to figure out if his escaped; at the very least, Wesker doesn't mistake this for his for very long - his is at least slightly less terrified of him now, even if it still doesn't like being picked up, and last he saw the thing it was playing with one of those antique dolls by batting it around against the wall in his room.

So this is...definitely not his, and that's definitely a letter that it dropped, and Wesker is nothing if not curious as hell even when most of his feelings have been turned off like they seem to have been today. So he'll read it like the horribly nosy person he is, and...

...Honestly, his first thought is "well, that's rude."

He'll be seeking Wheatley out once he's read it, though, and put the secret back in the envelope like it hardly matters - nonspectacular though the cake is, it's better than anything Wesker could make, anyway.]

Keeping busy...?

[Hello there, Wesker!]

Yup! I needed something to do, so here I am, still doing trial-and-error, because I have nothing else to do right now. But I'll think of something, I always do.

[He seems carefree as usual]

Do you want some? I can't promise it's great, but it should be good. I avoided all the mistakes I have ever done before.

No, that's fine.

[I mean, he's usually not here for eating much, so it's not like that's all that unusual.]

But it does seem to be coming along a bit more...fortunately than it used to.

I think I have learned how to make them. Somehow. I'm still not sure how, but I can't complain about it. Gives me something to do.

I don't know exactly why I wanted to be busy, maybe it's a machine thing. You know, not being idle, all that. But I could be idle if I wanted, just staring at the wall...

...I can't handle being idle, either. But then, it isn't as though I haven't been compared to machines before.

Something that I imagine is a little insulting for both of us, as far as implications go.

It's...a weird thing to say, that's for sure. [You definitely aren't anywhere in the definition of 'machine' Wheatley has] Don't pay attention to them, they don't know what they're talking about. You're nowhere close to being a machine...although...

[Wheatley lowers his voice as if he's going to tell a secret]

There are tales about humans who get turned into machines and they don't know it. Rumors, legends, horror tales that get spread in cultures and folklore. Rumor say those who don't know are machines tend to find out in the worst situation possible...one day, they gain awareness, and they notice they're now a turret or some other similar mechanism...

[He completely made all that up. The odds you're a machine are astronomically low, Wesker]

But there's nothing supernatural or otherwise surreal about such thing, just a neat story. That's the scary part! The part about how it's not impossible for that to happen.

Edited 2017-07-03 04:09 (UTC)

[holy shit this is literally the most depressing thing she has ever seen. and she thought her parents were assholes for creating her...

she finds him later on in the kitchen when she's going for her coffee, and just. how do you even respond to this sort of thing. he can't know she knows.]

Why is it always cakes with you?

Oh, if there's one thing Aperture Laboratories' procedure are known for, it's that cake is kind of a big reward. Especially in the past. Cake and staying alive, test subjects do anything to get them.

[That was said a tad too cheerfully. Looks like Wheatley doesn't hold any care about the lots of deaths from tests in the past]

Besides this gives me something to do here. Trial and error, over and over, it's kind of...normal for me? I feel fulfilled. Better to do this than be idle and do nothing, you get that?

[There are so many variables in the procedure to bake a cake, so many ways it can go wrong, that Wheatley actually finds himself entertained by trying to ascertain where things go wrong and how to avoid it.

It's his nature: doing great at hindsight, sucking at foresight]

Edited 2017-07-05 03:23 (UTC)

I guess that makes sense. It seems kind of stupid to be doing something that you, specifically, can't enjoy, though. But, that's just the hedonist in me, I guess.

[pokes the cake]

Baking is better than anything I have done before, I like it. It sure is better than worrying over the malfunctioning reactor core or having to watch over the smelly humans--

[...oops...quick, think quick. He manages to continue without stopping for a suspiciously long time]

--because whoever made the relaxation chambers for them to rest didn't account for things like, you know, hygiene and keeping everything clean and other similar stuff? And after years everything start to get smelly, that's what I mean. Nothing else.

[Looking apologetically, Wheatley pushes the cake towards Madison a bit]

Um, do you want some? This one is good, I got the right sweetness a couple hundred cakes ago. Maybe you'll like it, it's...it should be good.

Edited 2017-07-05 04:19 (UTC)

[laughs] What, is that supposed to be offensive? Humans are grosser than you probably even know. It's part of being an animal and everything.

[... she likes cake as a metaphor but. well. does she pity this robot that much. maybe.]

I guess. Eating actual food today would be a change.

[Good, she didn't get offended. Wheatley seems to relax quite a lot]

Good, that was--I didn't mean to let that slip. I'm sorry. It's more that it's the job nobody wanted, so it was given to me. I was hoping for a promotion. Didn't get it.

[Go ahead, take a slice! It's oozing a bit more milk than it should, but it all tastes rather good. Took a lot of trial and error, but looks like he's actually getting the hang of this task]

What was the rank above human lab rat babysitter than you missed out on? [SHE MOSTLY LIKE. just pokes the cake with a spoon to make it look like she's eating. but she does eat like minute amounts of it.]

[Wheatley doesn't notice she's not eating cake. Yeah, he's not particularly observant, hah]

Manufacturing. A supervisor role, in charge of keeping the production lines working. The foreman chose an exact duplicate of himself. He just--he left the room, and then his duplicate entered, claiming he had obtained the job. Nepotism, that's what it was.

That's fucking bullshit. Don't you have, like, a robot HR to complain to or something?

Nope, not really. The facility has been empty for years, decades. It was only me, one living test subject, and around ten thousand humans in vegetative state. And the AI trying to kill us, she was there too, almost forgot about her. I wonder what happened to her since I was brought here? Huh.

Edited 2017-07-06 23:32 (UTC)

Maybe she succeeded. [join team dead]

(no subject)

dangerousfool - 2017-07-07 00:46 (UTC) - Expand

[Entirely too out of it for a good part of the day, if he came across the skittish frankenturret while wandering the halls in a daze he probably just managed to stumble over it and not much more. Wheatley's secret is safe from Lovecraft, at least.

But he does appear in the kitchen at some point while Wheatley is working.]

Hello, Wheatley...

[The greeting comes out of random, Lovecraft can be found at the nearby counter. If there's a cake, Lovecraft is bound to find it, it seems.]

This one looks good, too.

Yup! I think I'm proficient at this. Not bad for little ol' Wheatley!

[He sounds very proud of himself]

I think I can get even better? I'll see. Or more like you'll see. You will--it'll be like nothing you have seen before.

[For someone who was made to be a complete moron, he sure is managing to do something well]

I look forward to it.

[And he's sincere about it! It's pretty fascinating that Wheatley would go through this much effort, especially since he's a machine and all. And by that he means...]

Do you ever wish you could taste your cakes?

No, not really. Why'd I want that? It's not like I have ever needed such thing.

[Wheatley tilts his head in thought]

Buuuuut I also never really needed appendages like arms or legs, and I find I like it. Maybe, if I ever receive such ability, I'd grow to like it too. It's adaptation.

[He's not in a hurry to get anyone to give him a sense of taste, though, he's more than fine not having one]

[Why would Wheatley want it? Lovecraft stares at him like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard.]

Because then you would know how delicious sweets are. That aside, there is a certain...joy [sure, we'll go with that word] in discovering a favorite food.

[Yeah, that doesn't sound too appealing to Wheatley, hah]

It'd make things awkward. Just me, standing near the table and then mashing my eye against a plate of food, that's not very appealing. It'd make things hard for me to see.

[And it'd be a waste of food too]

[Oh my god Wheatley.]

Well... No, I suppose not. You're not meant to eat with your eye, anyway. [...] How about...sensors? Is that possible?

[He's somewhat familiar with machines but everything Wheatley is is just beyond him.]

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