LOCKED TO
alchemicals
[He doesn't remember anything. All he knows is that there's a bright light in his face and he just wants to sleep. After a couple of minutes of tossing and turning he finally opens his eyes and sits up. The room he's in is perfectly white, without any sort of interesting features. There's a desk and a chair, but nothing on either of them. They're as white as the walls and floor, and on closer inspection, the bed he's in is just as white and spotless as the rest of the room. The sheets are a bit on the stiff side even though he's been sleeping under them, and the bed is kind of hard for his liking, so he finally squirms out from under the covers and stands.
The clothes he's wearing strike him as being wrong, though he can't recall what the "right" clothes would be. They're white - like everything else - and they're very simple. He doesn't have anything to compare them to, but the material is soft and kind of thin and feels a little odd. He shrugs off his confusion about the clothes and starts for the door. Even the doorknob is white, which strikes him as strange for about half a second before he yanks the door open.
The room that he enters is spacious. Like the room he woke up in, everything is white. There's a sofa, a small table in front of the sofa, and a couple of plush chairs. There's a couple of doors leading elsewhere, and his first order of business is to see where they lead. One leads to a perfectly white kitchen which isn't interesting right now (though some part of him wonders if the food will be just as white) and the other door he comes to is locked. There should be a front door around here somewhere though, right? He doesn't want to be here. He can't remember why he's here (or anything, really) but being here doesn't seem right.]
The clothes he's wearing strike him as being wrong, though he can't recall what the "right" clothes would be. They're white - like everything else - and they're very simple. He doesn't have anything to compare them to, but the material is soft and kind of thin and feels a little odd. He shrugs off his confusion about the clothes and starts for the door. Even the doorknob is white, which strikes him as strange for about half a second before he yanks the door open.
The room that he enters is spacious. Like the room he woke up in, everything is white. There's a sofa, a small table in front of the sofa, and a couple of plush chairs. There's a couple of doors leading elsewhere, and his first order of business is to see where they lead. One leads to a perfectly white kitchen which isn't interesting right now (though some part of him wonders if the food will be just as white) and the other door he comes to is locked. There should be a front door around here somewhere though, right? He doesn't want to be here. He can't remember why he's here (or anything, really) but being here doesn't seem right.]

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[If it's any consolation, he's right there with you, Naki.]
...Shit, I think it's part of a game I used to play a lot?
[That...sounds right, somehow, and he grins once it's out there.]
Yeah! It's a game I used to play before I came here - you'd be given a bunch of smaller things that's kind of like this, with the bulbs on the end, and you had to take them apart and make a larger structure out of them without wasting too many pieces. They can only join up in certain ways, you can't just do whatever you want, and you only had a certain number of moves to do it in or you'd lose. So it's like a puzzle, only with a sort of timer on it.
It's stupid-complicated, but it's fun once you learn how. This was how to solve one of the harder ones.
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[Naki listens intently, looking absolutely fascinated with what Kimbley's saying. Admittedly he also looks a little lost as well, but he's trying.]
It sounds a bit too difficult for me, but I bet it'd be fun to watch! You were good at it, weren't you?
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[He shrugs. It sounds like it's going to go right over his head, but hey, if Kimbley's remembering something - even something minor like this - then that's definitely a good thing!]
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I'll show you, though, if you want.
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[He's still not really comfortable with all this, but at least it's something.]
Same goes for you, too - unless you want me to sleep out here while you're up. The couch doesn't suck or anything and I sleep really hard, so it's not like you'd wake me up.
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[It'll be kind of lonely spending eight hours awake by himself, but this is way better than the alternative.]
Okay, so if we do that we're... gonna have to find some way to keep track of time, aren't we? Is there a clock anywhere in here? There's no windows so we can't rely on sunlight or anything.
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[Goddamn it, the math checks out and everything, there's just no fucking way to enforce it...wait.]
...The stove. It's got to have a timer on it at least; we can set that.
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[Naki moves to check, though that's much easier said than done since he's never touched a stove in his life.
????]
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[...dude where are you going
...do you even know what you are looking at]
...I was gonna say, unless they want us to burn something, it should.
[...]
Okay, this is a lot different than the stoves I'm used to.
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[Naki reaches out to press something, but hesitates. He's not sure what most of these buttons do, so he's really not sure what he should even press here to see if it'll work.]
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[No, really, what the hell...]
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[Honestly he can't even tell if this is what stoves look like normally. That's pretty creepy all things considered and he doesn't let himself dwell on it for too long.]
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[Naki looks around the kitchen, biting his lower lip as he thinks.]
There's no clock in here at all, so just checking the time is out. Is there some kind of timer somewhere in here? I mean besides the stove. Maybe they left us something else...?
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[...Oh, god.]
You think they figured we'd do something like this?
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[Naki's eyes widen and once again the sclera shifts colors.]
Shit, no, there's no way...
[Except that's entirely possible and that's really freaking him out.]
Fuck, they could have known, so they-- Fuck!
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[He doesn't know where the reasonably calm tone of voice is coming from, but it pleases him in some vague way; he's mad as hell, that much is obvious, but he's not going to give anyone the satisfaction of making him freak out when he's pretty sure they're watching.]
No one's going to fuck with you either way, okay?
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