Breakfast in the Citadel of SCIENCE

[cybertrixx]

After clericalkender 's birthday party last night, the vile tempter many know asillithidbix suggested that we venture into the not-so-secret hideout of the Defias gang - commonly known as the Deadmines - with our conveniently ~level 20 alts. By 12:30 we were logged in and sort-of-considering making our way there.

Suddenly it was 4:30 and Van-Cleef was finally dead (argh respawning trash). So, in an attempt to salvage some form of sleep (A futile effort by this point), I reset my alarm from 6:45 (an hour before I actually have to get up) to 7am for no particular reason. I guess I figured that 2 hours was a nice round number. Normally I'd hit snooze every 15 minutes until 7:45 and then get up, leaving me with just enough time to be ready for work.

And so, it came to pass that my alarm did go off. As is standard, I found myself awake. Picking up my phone, I checked the minute timer. '00' means that it's 8am and I have to be at work in half an hour. Oh. Must have already had my lie in and forgotten. Better hurry! Get up. Get ready. Argh, 2 hours sleep. Stumble out of house. Halfway to work...wait. The early morning wakeup call version of fridge logic finally catches up, wondering why it's saying 7:20, not 8:20. Argh! 3 hours of sleep is better than 2...

Ok, that's fine. Rather than go back to bed, may as well do something productive. An hour to kill. Time to go and find some breakfast!

So I find myself wandering across campus in a sleep-deprived haze at 7:20, marveling at the fact that there are NO PEOPLE ANYWHERE despite it being broad daylight, and trying to find a canteen that's open this early for breakfast. Turns out that just about everywhere opens at 8 or 10am. As I cut a long circuitous route from Vanburgh to Wentworth to the Roger Kirk centre, up through Derwent and into Alcuin, I'm beginning to lose hope. There must be somewhere. Anywhere. Desperation mounting...

It's now 7:45. There is a sign pointing to a place I've never heard of. Apparently it's a restaurant. So I wander on over, across a funny bridge and into that weird building at the top of campus that nobody EVER goes into. "Are you here for breakfast?" says the early-morning cleaner inside. "Why, yes I am!" says I. "Next door!" says she. Ah, yes. This is the Hull Medical School. What it's doing in York I don't know.

Out the door, round the corner, along the ramp and over to another entrance of what is basically the same building. It's called something like the 'learning centre'. Some kind gentleman is holding the door open for me, saying "Welcome. Come inside.". This is a little surreal. "I'm afraid most people won't be around yet. It's a little early." says the helpful man with the door. "OK, that's fine. It -is- rather early. I'm actually here for breakfast." I mumble, lost somewhere in a dreamscape. "Oh, I'll show you. Follow me..." says he.

Through secure access card restricted doors. Through the heart of this vast conference centre. Down the inspirational slogan-filled corridors that smell of cleaning fluid. Everything's so shiny, so clean, so sparkly. Ahead lies my goal. The hallowed breakfast-serving canteen. It's 7:45 - plenty of time before work starts!

Say thankyou to nice gentleman, open door, wander inside, look around confused and rather shy for a moment. The place is pretty full. Grab tray. Stand in front of the canteen looking at all the bacon. There's nobody on the other side. Look hopeful as chef wanders past. Eventually chef says "You can help yourself if you want.". Wow. This is like no canteen I've ever been to!

Pile plate with bacon. What a treat. Grab hot chocolate. Grab toast - they even have an automated toasting conveyor-belt thing. Wow! Now...where do I pay?

Do my best to subtly watch where other people are going to pay. They're just sitting down. Waitress taking trays when done. Ah, ok. Gotcha. Pay when you leave. Take tray over to table. Sit down. Look around. All these people are so smart. They're talking about PHYSICS. They're real SCIENTISTS. Starting to feel somewhat self-conscious...

Have another look around. Getting a nagging attack of something being out of place. Little subconscious alarm bell ringing. Too tired to care. Just to check, I flag one of the waitresses. "Where do I pay?" I say. She blinks. Uhoh...

Awkward silence. Plate of food staring at me.

"Pay? You don't have to pay. It's provided."

That little alarm, locked away somewhere at the back of the mind...yeah. It's screaming at me now.

"Oh."

Oh god. No. Where am I? What's going on? Waitress standing there, looking blank. Attack of conscience.

"I...it's provided?" I ask, doing best scared-innocent voice.

Awkward silence. Urge to curl up into a ball and die overwhelming.

"I...think you're in the wrong place." says the waitress.

Plate of food staring at me. No. Nooooooooo!

"This is a private function. How did you get in here?"

Argh. Oh god, oh god, oh god. "I followed the signs for 'restaurant' and the guy on the front desk showed me through to here."

Look of horror on waitress' face. "You shouldn't have been able to get in here. This is a private function and this canteen is reserved for attendees only."

Entire fucking room staring now. Every one of them a SCIENTIST. They have POWERS. I can feel them FLAYING MY SOUL with their gaze.

"Oh. Err." Quick glance at plate. "Damn."

Awkward silence. Somehow awkward silence resolves itself, but I can't for the life of me remember how. I suspect one of the SCIENTISTS temporarily possessed me with a psychic mind-probe to determine whether this infiltrator in their midst was a potential threat. Satisfied that I posed no threat to the collective, he then withdrew and erased all memory of the previous ten seconds.

"I'll go speak with the chef." says the waitress.

Standing. Alone. Awkwardly. Entire room staring. Some of them are smiling. Evil, leering grins. Some are frowning. Thunderous, burning disapproval. They're all around. There's no escape. Oh god.

"Yeah, you're fine." says the waitress.

Silence. Still left standing. Entire room staring. Breakfast staring up from the plate.

"Oh well!" says my hunger. Sit down. Eat in silence. Entire room staring. FLAYING MY SOUL WITH THEIR MIND-RAYS. I can hear their thoughts. "Enjoying your STOLEN FOOD, impostor?" "YOU ARE NOT OF US! OUTSIDER!" "SILENCE THE DISCHORD!"

Finish food. Eyes do not leave plate. Stand up, eyes still on plate. Move to door. Eyes on door. Leave. They're still watching. I can FEEL IT...