fandomhigh | Galactic Vacationing - Danger Shop, Wednesday Afternoon

The Danger Shop, for anyone who entered it, looked rather like a London street at Christmas time. There were plenty of human shoppers milling about, lights and signs telling everyone about great last-minute sales and a group of musicians dressed like Santa with rosy-cheeked masks were lined up playing Christmas carols for passers by. It was a clear night, cold but not unreasonably so, and sadly no snow in sight. The teacher didn't appear to be in the vicinity either.

The pleasant scene was broken by the sound of plate glass smashing and blank-faced mannequins stepping out from shop windows. Down the street, a woman screamed, drawing a mannequin's attention. It raised its arm and the woman ducked out of the way just in time to miss a gunshot coming from where the mannequin's hand should have been.

A man in a blue suit, a tan trench coat and red sneakers appeared out of the panicking crowd, stopping in front of the students. His face reflected the urgency of the situation. "Run!"

[OOC: But look both ways before crossing the road and ~~wait for OCD~~ go for it. OCD is up!

ETA: Off to catch a flight. Hopefully will be back tonight to answer pings.]

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The Doctor looked off to the side where the controls to the Danger Shop were still in view. "Push that button. But the question is are you meant to stop them? Or how about is there something bigger than what you're seeing that could stop all of this? They stop, then they come back. They're plastic, Autons, like mindless soldiers. Who's in charge?"

Jenny scowled, and refrained from pointing out that she was the one on the ground with the panicking civilians, dealing with the greater threat was someone else's problem. "Well if we're talking about the shop controls? That would be you."

She could fry those, too, but it would probably get the administration mad at her.

"But who's in charge of them? Think within the situation."

"You're the one who pointed out the controls. Sir." She took a deep breath. "I'm on the ground, I don't have anyone to call unless the prime minister's number's going to work within this sim, and radiotelepathy's not working. I don't have access to anything or anyone who can track what's controlling them or who has knowledge about what could be animating plastic. Except maybe you. Sir."

She said 'sir' like it meant 'I need a drink.'

"Good." That's all he said, with a smile mind you, then he went to bother someone else.

Galactic Vacationing - Danger Shop, Wednesday Afternoon

Re: Freaking Santa Claus

Re: Freaking Santa Claus

Re: Freaking Santa Claus

Re: Freaking Santa Claus

Re: Freaking Santa Claus