The Answers Just Beg More Questions

The lab is as run down as the rest of the building- the ceiling light flickers annoyingly as Jake and Jonathan walk in. Battered desks line one wall, covered in manilla folders with post-its all over them. Old glass lab gear is stacked in the sink, stained odd colours with mysterious chemicals that could really be anything. A fume hood whirrs away in one wall. It looks about fifty years old.

A battered mass spectrometer sits next to a fridge full of catalogued samples, and a bagel. The door's hanging open, and the light spills out over filthy tiles.

The lab tech is dozing on his desk, his printer shooting pages of paper down onto the floor next to him. His coffee has gone cold hours before.

Something's boiling in a beaker, beneath the fume hood. From the black smoke, it probably shouldn't be.

Jake clears his throat. "Excuse me? We're Special Agents Dullhan and Derevko, we're waiting for some lab results since earlier this week." Jake hopes he's speaking loudly enough to wake the fast-asleep man.

The lab tech just snorted in his sleep, mumbling something. He was completely lost to the world. A line of drool ran down his mouth, onto the papers on the desk.

Derevko snorted as the guy lay there, snoring away and generally being a fucking annoyance by not moving, or giving them their Goddamn lab results. If he'd ever even bothered to test their samples, or look at them... lazy son of a bitch.

"To Hell with this," he spat, and kicked the chair as hard as he could.

  4 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2011-10-19 10:12:26		Jonathan Derevko rolls 6 to Strength 4 + Brawl 4 -2 Called (10 Again)		6, 10, 9, 10, 3, 9, 1, 3		4 successes

The chair skittered out from underneath the tech, who followed the laws of physics and plummeted to the floor with a bang. He jerked awake, his eyes wide, looking around for the threat.

"What?! Argh!"

"Derevko! What the..."

"We... I'm sorry, but we need some results. It's urgent." Jake walks to the tech and offers him a hand in getting up. That was totally uncalled for... Well, at least it had worked.

The tech took Jake's hand, grimacing as he got to his feet. He yawned as he stood up, shaking his head, and tried to avoid Derevko's gaze.

"I'm... yeah... I'm just... the print outs should be here..." the tech said, sounding still half-asleep, half-shaken. He fumbled through the creased papers. "I know I just... huh?" He looked behind himself at the manilla folders, then thrust one into Dullahan's hands. "There... there you go."

Derevko stared at the guy balefully. Fucking moron, sleeping on the Goddamn job! What fucking right did he have? His hands clenched into fists suddenly, and it looked for a moment like he might haul off and hit the guy. Then he turned on his heel, and walked from the lab, breathing slowly through his teeth.