vivarium | CALHOUN HOUR

Everything in the warehouse always followed a strict schedule. Every three days, there would either be an Ambidex Round and this would continue until four rounds were held. After that, it would switch over to "Calhoun Hour" events for the next short while, and despite the sudden change in atmosphere, it would follow the same pattern of always starting during the early mornings, but today?

Nothing.

No annoying screeching, no sudden decorations, nothing special to wake up to. In fact, there's not even an alarm. You can wake up whenever you want. Calhoun isn't here, he doesn't care. He's off on vacation, he doesn't have time for you test subjects, this is his first vacation in forever, he's free. At least, that's what the sheet of paper taped against the Number 9 Door read, signatured by Calhoun's attempt of drawing himself (note: it doesn't look good).

So, asides from the locked elevator and stairs, preventing anyone from accessing the second floor, it looks like you can do anything you want. Feel free to wreck havoc, have a fight food in the cafeteria, stab each other. You are all free now.

Well, only for the morning and afternoon.

During the evening, one angry little robotic mouse stomps back into the lobby of the warehouse. Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, lei necklace, and sunglasses (over his gas mask...), he drags his suitcase behind him and stands in the middle of the room.

"So apparently I'm not allowed to leave you spoiled test subjects with nothing to do! I have to "do my job" and keep you all busy. I don't think I'm getting paid enough for this," he huffs loudly and crosses his arms. "I was just really getting into my vacation too. I'm too good for these test subjects and this world, working overtime."

This tantrum goes on for another half a minute, about how even he needs proper rest too and he's not a robotic mouse, he's an overworked mouse, and so on. He just sighs once he finishes and shakes his head.

"But I guesssss it's true we need to get you lazy bunch to do something besides eat all my gruel and whine about these so-called 'human rights violations', so over to the second floor! Your next Calhoun Hour is going to be held there!"

At the elevators, they unlock with the clap of his paws, and behold, the new second floor!

The floors are no longer hard and cold tiles, but rather soft and covered in blankets. There are cruelly drawn signs stuck up on the walls to indicate different activities, a karaoke machine in one corner, a tv in the other, a rack full of pyjamas, and... is that yet another table with a mysterious punch bowl on it? What is this mouse and his deal with having punch everywhere.

"All right, punks, this was originally going to be all for me for my welcome back party, but since you need an event, I am generously giving this to you! Grab a pair of PJs and a ballot card. For each activity you do, you get one stamp. Get five stamps and, I don't know, you win coins and a memory or something. I'll figure it out later, so get to it!"

BASIC INFO ✖ EVENT STATIONS ✖ BEGIN THE SLEEPOVER ✖ MINGLE
TURN-IN

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It takes a little while for him to regain his composure enough to be able to respond.]

No way, the night is still young! Besides, it's your turn to spin the bottle. Stop stalling already and just do iiiiiiit.

Well, he makes a point, it is your turn, Snake. [Sorry Snake, apparently still too drunk for logic. Clive seemed happy so that's probably good ignoring you know. his liver. hangovers. alcohol poisoning.]

Very well. *Snake gives it another spin and oh look, it's Clive now. Not that it's a SHOCK given that it's the three of them.* All right, Clive. Do try not to jump me while I kiss you.

[Giggle giggle.] Oh, fine, I'll be good. Maybe.

[Poor Heiji, Hershel would say but he's learned his lesson so he'll be a good boy and not ruin everything further. For now.

What a boring, pointless tag I'm sorry, just have fun macking I guess, he'll be sitting here vaguely unsure about everything he ever knew.]

*The game doesn't specify where you have to kiss someone, so Snake gives Clive a chaste little kiss on his nose. No macking out here. Unless he gets assaulted by Clive.*

[Fortunately he does not assault Snake after all - he just sits there giddily as Snake kisses his nose and giggles after. Of course.]

Okay, my turn! [And then he enthusiastically spins the bottle. I think we all know who it's going to land on.]

[God damnit why didn't he think of nose kissing. Hershel considers this, does it count? Has he been making his life difficult all this time? Could he have kept his purity?

Haha yeah though there's the bottle landing on him and he's to distracted to notice at first. When he does he looks a little surprised which is weird since he fucking knows he's playing the game.]

Oh... [Okay, he could totally do this chaste kiss thing, Snake opened his eyes here to the possibilities.]

*Snake appreciates the irony of your statement and sits back, ready to listen at whatever is about to happen.*

CALHOUN HOUR - SLEEPOVER

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