OFFICE HOURS

[didntgetdadslooks]

Got something you want to say to your good friend The Professor's Assistant? Come on in, don't be shy! Her official hours are daylight hours - girl has to sleep? after all, probably - but if you knock on the door at night she'll generally answer. Please just make sure to leave the in-game date and time in the header of your toplevel!

All comments are screened for confidentiality during the course of the experiment.

Comments

[fivestagegod]

[Hey, it's fine, he was pretty fucking obscure in going about it and besides, it's not like he expects everyone to be on his level and everything. (Because he is, in fact, an arrogant jackass.) But he backstabbed the biggest bioweapons conglomerate in the world for years without getting caught, he's gotten at least somewhat decent at doing it.]

Good to know we're on the same page, then.

[He'll move to pick up Wiggles, then, who is...where is Wiggles. ...Wiggles has found the side of the chair and is working its way down, no you don't come back here.

Anyway, he will actually succeed in picking up Wiggles because he's not leaving it with Angel, thanks.]

I'm going to ask you for that stupid secret back, then, and then I'll get out of your face until the next time.

[didntgetdadslooks]

Give me a second, I have it around here somewhere.

[ she opens and closes a couple desk drawers, lingering on one for a couple extra seconds. Then she looks back at the top of her desk and sees that of course, silly her, she left it there! She closes the drawer and offers it back to him at kind of a weird angle. ]

Better tuck it away somewhere safe quickly, before someone goes and sees it.

[ nevermind that little extra scrap of paper underneath the envelope, when he goes to take it. ]

[fivestagegod]

...Yeah, I'd prefer no one fucking hate me before all of this gets waved around in front of God and everyone. You know, after no one kills each other because doing so under duress would be wrong.

[He'll take his leave then; he'll check whatever she gave him later, when he's on his own, by way of tucking the envelope among his notes and returning to work on them, checking to see what's written there while he flips through what's already there. What do we have here, Angel.]

[didntgetdadslooks]

Right. Good night, Prodi-G.

[ dont know Subjects in memo
def from dr who made prof's machines, shes Like That
dont know who wrote under tile, neither does prof ]