Date: 2014-11-13 07:57 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (I brought you to a Remington party)
Questions! Questions were good, questions meant direction and some idea as to whether she was answering appropriately. Although she hadn't quite been prepared for them to come in such quick succession. She made mental notes of her answers - and of the name John Tillman, which was about as average a name as possible and disappointingly nonrevealing - until the pause for coffee.

"Um, yes he told me, no I didn't influence him, and no we didn't have any plans... to..."

She squinted, briefly. Until that point, the woman's note-taking had been meticulous and distressingly elaborate. Now, she was content to sip at her coffee, her hands still. Heather leaned back in her chair, tipped her head, and - trying to keep her face free of any indication of what she was doing in the probably very likely scenario that she was wrong - thought very hard. She pictured a neon sign, fifty feet high and blazing, unnatural pink, flashing on and off

IT'S RUDE TO READ PEOPLE'S MINDS

as she swiftly arranged a a stack of bacon and hashbrown chunks on her fork, saucing them with a swipe through egg yolk before she crammed the whole thing into her mouth and chewed fervently. If she was gonna get killed for sassing facility staff then by god, she was going to die with a mouthful of breakfast.
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SCP Containment Failure lol

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