[Just inside the door is something likely more familiar to Tim than Algric: Research. Long tables in the center of the large room, flanked by rows and rows of impossibly tall shelves that snake and maze around the impossibly big room. Around the corners of the ceilings are the vestiges of mold and rot, and somewhere, distantly is the faint sound of squirming.
But the larger part of the room for use seems fine.
There are books out on the tables, notes, and the shelves are full of more books and files as well. Here and there are a couple of microphones, though they aren't connected to any recording device.
But no matter where they stand, there is an ever-present feeling of being watched. Odd, since none of the walls have any photos or paintings. No eyes to stare at them.]
no subject
But the larger part of the room for use seems fine.
There are books out on the tables, notes, and the shelves are full of more books and files as well. Here and there are a couple of microphones, though they aren't connected to any recording device.
But no matter where they stand, there is an ever-present feeling of being watched. Odd, since none of the walls have any photos or paintings. No eyes to stare at them.]