What...what the hell is that? (Open)

[Dr. Henry Ramsey]

When Henry walked into the staff lounge, he thought he smelled something a bit off. Shrugging it off as smelly garbage or something going a little bad in the fridge, he ignored it and walked up the microwave to zap-nuke his lunch like every afternoon. Unfortunately, as soon as he pushed the button to release the catch on the door, he learned his mistake. The smell was indescribable, similar to tuna but earthier and more fetid. If he had to put it into words, Henry would have called it a purple sort of smell.

"Dios mio!" Henry's arm flew up to shield his nose in the crook of his elbow. He was about to slam the door with his other hand when he was caught, transfixed in mid-motion, by the sight of what lay inside the microwave. It was vaguely lumpy and white on the bottom (mashed potatoes?) and some manner of salsa like substance was oozing from it like an open wound. The only identifiable food item in the whole mess was the bacon it had been wrapped in.

"What the hell is that?" he asked aloud, horrified, "And why does it smell more like tuna when there's no tuna?!" Appetite gone but curiosity piqued, Henry set about digging through his lunch for the plastic fork, to better examine the thing in the microwave. Logically, it couldn't have been there longer than today or the custodial staff would have gotten to it, but who would have created such an abomination? And in the name of all that was holy--why just leave it sitting there when the experiment failed?

((based on a true story. ))

[Piper Crumin]

Since Piper had special accommodations that a school like Hammel understood, she had to keep her food separate and fresh. She couldn't risk eating the cafeteria's food, though it was likely fine, but if there was a single mistake it could seriously harm her, so Piper liked to keep the "better safe than sorry" mentality about her weakness.

So, she had special permission to keep her food that was prepared for her in a sanitary container within the staff lounge, and she would fetch it during her lunch hour. Most of the time she appeared and disappeared fast enough so she didn't have much interaction with the staff, but that was because she was quick and silent and didn't really have any desire to try and talk to any of the staff. Piper... just wasn't that kind of girl.

And today wasn't an exception, at least, she hadn't planned it to be.

Piper's history class was excused, and the fifteen-year-old hurried off towards the lounge where her food was kept. Her ability to weave through the students was almost unmatched, but the kid who could phase through people was a little more efficient than her. Yes, Piper thought of everything as a competition, hell, she thought of the powers as a competition. And as far as 'natural gifts' went, she felt that she had gotten a good one.

Piper didn't know what it would be like not to be able to jump and run and move as she did now. It pleasured her that people couldn't do what she did, and her movements almost created a new world for her. Sure, it may seem stupid to someone else, but she loved it.

Once she had weaved and maneuvered herself through the hallways and had gotten to the lounge, the halls were almost clear. Most of the students had gotten to lunch quickly and didn't want to stay in the school as much as they could. Piper hummed some song, thinking that she was pretty much alone when she opened the door to the Staff Lounge.

And the smell hit her nasal passages like a cannon to the stomach. Almost instantly she lost most of her appetite, even what little she had thinking about the bland meal which awaited her in the refrigerator. She looked about to see where the smell was coming from, and she saw one of the staff standing near the microwave. Who was the man? She didn't really know the staff as well as she should, as she didn't interact with them much, since she didn't interact with anyone much. What was his name? Ramsey. It was Dr. Ramsey. He was... a therapist or something? Piper couldn't recall, and she wouldn't be bothered about it if he wasn't be interesting.

And by interesting, I mean that he was poking the rancid something-or-other in the microwave with a fork. Piper couldn't help it.

"What are you doing?" She asked, sounding more horrified than curious. Maybe she didn't need to have lunch today.

[Dr. Henry Ramsey]

"Science," Henry responded without looking up or ceasing his examination of the--food?--in the microwave. "When I call poison control and they ask what died in here, I'd like to have a specific answer. Be a dear and crack the window for me?" With so prodigious a stink as was expanding through the room now, Henry felt pretty confident in assuming that everything the microwave cooked from that day forward would have an unsavory hint of whatever this was in it. It would bother him not to know if he was going to have to live with it. He hadn't failed to register that timbre of horror in her voice, and he was acutely aware that this was not his most glorious moment, but as humiliation went, this was on the low end of the scale. Easily within tolerable limits, and perfectly harmless in the grand scheme of things.

The smell, on the other hand, was only tolerable for so long. After taking a small representative sample of the foul mass onto the plastic fork, he did what his instincts had bid him to do several minutes ago and slammed the microwave door shut again. He then set about rummaging through all of the nearby drawers for sandwich bags.

"Are you supposed to be in here?" Henry asked distractedly, peering at her for a moment before turning back to his search. Not that he was likely to care very much if she wasn't. His was the type of personality that appreciated a little victimless rebellion. He didn't recall this girl's name, though he passed her in the hallways at times. The only students whose names Henry really knew were the ones who came to him for therapy, but there were very few students he didn't like when he got to know them a little bit.

Finding the bags, Henry opened one with his teeth and sealed the entire fork inside. Something made him doubt that the research department would take kindly to his commandeering their lab equipment just to satisfy his curiosity, so he would have to do what he could on his own. One thing was certain, he would figure out who made this. He didn't even necessarily want to yell at them--he just had so many questions. Why, for example, go to the trouble of wrapping it in bacon, but not bother to get a plate?

[Miles Clay]

Slightly harried after yet another encounter with the 12-year-old cannon of enthusiasm known as Jean Manne, and slightly tired after being asked to make a cowboy hat, space helmet, wizard hat, and a purple wig, all Miles Henry Clay wanted was a Dr. Pepper. He made his way to the staff lounge, trusting his great size to cleave a path through the swarms of students heading to lunch. As he reached the door, he fumbled with his wallet, drawing out a dollar bill as he opened it. All thoughts of Dr. Pepper were immediately driven from the counselor's mind.

"Guh! Geez Man. What the HELL is that? and why do you have a fork in a sandwich bag?"

Miles bravely marched forward into the room, rebutting the fierce assault of foul odor by which he found himself embattled. Miles considered himself an amicable man, but Jean had left him mildly irritated, and learning that he would have to cross a sea of sulphuric tuna fumes to get himself a Dr. Pepper left him in less than an ideal mood. Normally, when things threatened to aggravate Miles, he would take a deep breath and contentedly continue with his life, but in this noxious environment, a deep breath was the last thing on Miles' to-do list. Pausing for a few seconds to let his irritation subside, Miles calmly inquired of the authoritative man who seemed intent upon examining a plastic fork in a sandwich bag. "Is this," he gestured vaguely to indicate the unknown source of the awful stench, "yours?"

[Piper Crumin]

Piper felt like laughing, but she didn't dare. The man's voice was so deadpan she wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Sh smiled slightly anyway in politeness.

"Honestly, that doesn't look much like science, but it's not my strongest suit in classes." She looked around him, seeing the lump of what she guessed was once mashed potatoes or baked beans. She felt sick just from looking at it.

He was nice, nonetheless, and Piper felt okay to talk with him. He had the kind of tone of voice that made her calm and a little more open. He wasn't intimidating or unkind, and he didn't even sound upset when he asked if she was allowed to be in the Staff Lounge. "I'm Piper Crumin. I get to keep my food in here in the sealed container so I don't get sick. My immune system is-"

She gave up trying to explain as the other man entered, and she couldn't deny that the large wall of a man was highly intimidating. It was no wonder that she never interacted with the teachers at Hammel. They could read her mind, alter her emotions, and there was no doubt in her mind that the man who just entered had super-strength or indestructibility. Just his very presence intimidated the small Piper Crumin. She nodded at the other staff member with the fork, and hurried over to the window, opening it.

"Do you need anything else?"

[Dr. Henry Ramsey]

Henry tilted his head to the side, looking at Piper like an inquisitive sparrow as she began to explain her presence in an area normally off limits to students. He was curious what made her immunocompromised and how severe it was, but whatever Piper had been about to say next died on her lips as Miles Clay was assaulted by the smell. The other man reacted with well justified horror as the scent assailed his unprepared senses.

After long years of being in this profession, it didn't escape Henry's notice that the girl fell completely silent when Miles came in. Nor did he miss her nervousness as she moved to do as he'd asked her and open the window.

He opened his mouth to ask a question but closed it again quickly. He'd been wondering if it was safe for her to be by the open window with her immune system, but thought better of it quickly. Of course she could--if she was that badly off she'd be in isolation in the first place. And he had to give her enough credit to believe she would tell him if it wasn't safe for her. She knew her condition better than anyone, he was sure.

"Ah, thank you, Piper, that helps. I don't need anything else--you can go ahead and grab your lunch if you like." Henry smiled at her in a friendly sort of way. Neither he nor Miles was likely to bite her, but from the way she was acting she wasn't entirely convinced she would escape with all of her limbs.

"Is it something you need to heat up?" If it was, they would have to find some solution other than the microwave to accomplish that goal, because there was no way he was braving that smell at such close range again. Not without a hazmat suit and some reinforcements from homeland security, anyway.

The way Miles phrased his question called a wide grin to Henry's lips. It reminded him of the beginning of an old pulp Sci-fi story he'd read as a young man. A Martian starship captain was minding his own business when he saw an angry mob chasing a beautiful woman. The captain, taking pity on her, had shouted to the mob, "She's mine! Keep back!" The mob had reacted with visible revulsion and horror. "Yours! She's yours?" Of course, that woman turned out to be some sort of vampiric Medusa from Venus, and this was just a bad cooking smell, but that was beyond the point.

"No, not mine. And I only have a fork in a sandwich bag because we're out of evidence bags--you'll find the crime scene is in the microwave." As Henry spoke, he moved slowly around the room. Now that the window was open, Henry moistened his fingertip on his lips and held out his hand, as if testing the wind before a putt. When he found an area with a decent crossdraft, Henry pulled a book of matches out of his pocket and struck one. The sulphurous smell of the match wasn't necessarily good, but it definitely beat the smell of the thing in the microwave.

[Miles Clay]

As he noticed the look of fear on the young girl's face, Miles' expression softened. "don't worry girl, I'm not here to eat you, not that I'd be able to eat anything in this stench. I'm just a counselor, and I came here for a Dr. Pepper."

In response to the man's query, Miles shook his head. "Nothing to heat up, no. I just came for a Dr. Pepper. My own lunch is back in my office. "

As the stench threatened to overwhelm him, Miles instinctively reached into the clothing dimension, and pulled out a blue handkerchief to shield his beleaguered nose. Smiling sardonically, he pulled a gas mask out next, offering it half-seriously to this man of almost his own height. "Name's Miles Clay, whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

The strain of pulling such an unusual piece of headwear left him breathing heavily, especially after having worked to meet Jean's crazy demands. After several breaths, however, he became intensely aware of the noxious fumes still assaulting him, and retreated to a nearby sofa.

Looking at the girl, Miles inquired of her conversationally. "So what brings a student here? I was under the impression that only teachers were allowed."

His expression was soft; after all, whoever was responsible for this awful stench had committed a far greater offense than she had, and experiencing it was more than sufficient punishment for any transgressions this girl might have made.

[Piper Crumin]

The brunette watched in amazement as the huge man before her as he pulled a blue handkerchief out of nowhere. He hadn't even pulled it out of anywhere, it had seemed to just materialize. She felt relief as she realized that the large staff member couldn't be too dangerous with the ability to pull small articles of clothing from an alternate dimension. That was cool.

"My name's Piper," she said, a little of her nervousness gone, and she smiled a bit. "As I said before you came in, I have permission to be in here because I have a nonexistent immune system, and I have to make my own food and it has to stay separated and chilled." She moved over to the cooler and pulled a large air-tight container out. Inside were various lunches wrapped individually. Piper dug one out, inspecting the piece of chicken inside, as well as the carrots that was also in the bag. She placed the bag on the table.

Piper's bright eyes looked over to the microwave and shook her head. "The microwave doesn't help the cleanliness of my food. Zap-frying is dangerous for me. Plus, look what that machine did to that stuff in there." She smiled best she could, getting a plastic fork from her clear tupperwear box, and tucked it behind her ear.

Piper closed up her box and put it back in the refrigerator, and moved to the vending machine, putting some coins in it and a Dr. Pepper fell out. She smiled a bit, giving it to the huge man with the handkerchief. She felt a little bad for being afraid of him.

[Dr. Henry Ramsey]

Dr. Ramsey nodded acknowledgment as the other two assured him they had no need to cook anything. That was certainly for the best, considering the monstrosity in the microwave. He chuckled quietly at Piper's joke, "Don't blame the poor microwave--it's the real victim here. Probably going to have nightmares about this day for the rest of its life--and so will anyone who dares to use it, no doubt."

Well, that was almost true--it was actually the custodial staff who were the real victims here, unless the twisted person responsible for the conglomeration in the microwave came by to collect it before the end of the work day.

Henry's eyes widened at Miles' use of his powers, he accepted the gas mask with a grin, looking at it from all angles with great curiosity. Had he used a pocket dimension, as Henry's old Hammel roommate did, or did he actually cause new matter to come into being? Either way, this was not a useful ability, it was an incredibly suave one as well. Keeping a grip on himself, Henry remembered not to interrogate the younger man for no good reason. In any case, it had been precisely the right thing to do to set Piper back at ease.

"Henry Ramsey. Nice to meet you, Miles." Miles Clay... now why did that name sound so familiar? "Are you, by chance, the new counselor?" Henry certainly hoped so--the department could use all the help they could get, and the memo about the new hire had been very welcome indeed.

Henry held the gas mask lightly to his face, breathing into it to confirm it was the genuine article as Miles sat down, wearied by his efforts."Extraordinary!" he exclaimed, though he would have used stronger language if he weren't at work, "That almost makes the smell worthwhile! May I keep this?" In addition to being downright cool, Henry was certain he could find a practical use for a gas mask around his home workshop.

As he spoke, Henry strode to a chair near the couch and followed Mr. Clay's example in taking a seat.

[Miles Clay]

Miles smiled cordially when the small girl offered him a Dr. Pepper. "Thank you very much, Ms....?" She was an adorable little girl, and her presence cheered him.

In answer to Dr. Ramsey's question, Miles smiled. "Yes, I'm the new counselor. Are you, by chance, the therapist here?"

Miles popped open the Dr. Pepper, and sipped contentedly at the delicious beverage. "Thank you so much for the soda. I really appreciate it."

As Miles held out the gas mask he thought more seriously to himself. If Ramsey doesn't take the mask, I might just use it myself. [i/] Ramsey did, however, take the mask, and Miles' grin widened as the Dr. examined his handiwork. Noting Ramsey's barely contained desire to interrogate him about his abilities, Miles spared him a brief summary. "I can pull objects from an alternate dimension which, as far as I can tell, contains only clothing. I'm particularly adept at headwear, but I can get any sort of clothing. the more obscure the design or materials, the harder it is for me to locate, and it can sometimes leave me fatigued. Miles then made a further demonstration of his now mildly stressed abilities, pulling a set of plugs, which he promptly stopped his nose with.

The immediate threat of overwhelming stench passed, Miles made a quite intense effort to pull another mask out of the clothingverse, so that he could politely offer one to the girl as well. That's the last thing I pull out of there for an hour, at least. [i/] A bead of sweat ran down Miles' head, and he wiped it off with the blue handkerchief he had pulled earlier. "Sure thing," Miles answered Ramsey's query about the gas mask. "It's yours to keep. Do whatever you like with it. What brought you to the lair of the tuna-bacon monstrosity, anyway?"

Miles rather appreciated the man's forward nature, and as Ramsey sat next to him, Miles decided to start a more casual conversation. "I'm glad to be meeting a fellow coworker. It almost makes up for the horrors we have witnessed here. Are you a fan of Jazz, Henry?"

[Piper Crumin]

Fabulous. Piper had fallen into a nest of people that she had been told she needed her entire life. Perhaps it was fate.

Piper had always wanted to talk to someone who wouldn't judge her for feeling so much anger. She had always wanted someone that she would tell everything to and they wouldn't think less of her.

But she didn't think that person, trained as a professional or not, would do that. Despite the oaths and studies they would do, she would still think that the way they looked at her was with disdain and their minds would be thinking what is wrong with this girl?

She wasn't a mind-reader, but sometimes she wished she would, because the moment she heard them speak of their professions, she couldn't help but get s little nervous again. She smiled anyway, and took the gas mask. It would come in handy during hay fever season.

"You work with the students here, then?" Piper asked Mr. Clay, putting her new gas mask into her bookbag. She really didn't need it for the smell, as she figured that she would be leaving soon. "What do you discuss with people, then?"