Doctor Who: The Clockwise Prolixity

[Epiphany]

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.

Approaching the control panel, Chauncey is treated to a sight he likely hasn't seen since those tank golems. Much like the rest of this place, it appears to be fashioned out of highly machined metal and amazingly well molded plastic. Some kind of glass covers the interface panel and lights illuminate various sigils and icons underneath. The writing looks spooky, for it floats within the glass, the edges of each character flickering between a hard edge and indistinction. It's also like nothing Chauncey has ever seen before.

The movement the panels made happened when everyone was across the room so it's a little hard to say exactly what changed. But below the main glass panel with its spooky writing is a tray. That tray seems filled with small...coins? Almost like coin currency, except instead of an embossing of nation or figure or date, there's a spiderwork of tiny metal filaments webbed across the transparent surface.

Just above the tray, a string of eldritch writing flickers on and off, a steady pulsing as if the computer had a pulse. While the technology is radically outside of Chauncey's context, it looks like it may be waiting for something.

Meanwhile, the room inexplicably brightens by a few lux. The almost unnoticeable hum of the ventilation system pitches up a degree. It may be growing ever so slightly warmer in here.

.

 

[Esbilon]

Ahassunu

Sensing it more than see it, Ahassunu notices that the other woman in the room, strangely dressed and blathering though she is, is talking to her. She spares a quick glance at the other's expression and needs no more than her own skill at reading faces to understand that she is less than happy with her. "I'm sorry, I do not understand," she offers in Akkadian along with an apologetic smile before turning her attention back to the strange and warlike creature before her.

 

[Arynne]

Ivy blinked.

Then she blinked again. The nagging sense of familiarity was back...

...and it suddenly exploded from a tickle to raw and blinding recognition. And with it a horrible realization.

No living person in her time had any notion of what spoken Akkadian sounded like, even those few -- like her -- who could read it. Unlike classical Greek or imperial Latin, the languages of ancient Mesopotamia had no direct living descendants. Unlike ancient Egyptian, they were no longer used in liturgy. So she hadn't recognized the tongue when she heard it spoken. But these very simple, basic words -- I'm sorry, I don't understand -- were just comprehensible.

Only a scant handful of people were well-read enough in Akkadian to construct sentences in it, and Ivy knew all of them -- by reputation, if not in person. None of them were the young woman standing before her, wearing authentic Babylonian-period jewelry. Something like this could not be faked, and certainly not by drunk college students There was only one inescapable conclusion: this was all real. She had actually been abducted and was on a spaceship with an alien and a robot and a time-displaced Babylonian--

Her thoughts skittered to a stop. She sat without moving or breathing for five seconds. Then a huge smile, which might read as "adorable" or "terrifying" went 'round and 'round her face in frivolous loops.

In her very best (i.e. horribly accented) Akkadian, she said, "I am sorry. Can you understand me if I speak this?"

 

[Esbilon]

Ahassunu

The difference between the blather of the foreigners and the words of her own people, garbled though it is, is like the difference between water and brine, between bread and sand, between life and death. The for-now-peaceful monster forgotten, Ahassunu turns to the formerly blathering woman with light shining in her eyes and a smile on her face beyond those she has previously offered her companions. "Ishtar be praised, yes!" She responds. "I recognize neither your dialect or your mother tongue, where are you from, and do you know what this place is?"

 

[Arynne]

Oh dear.

Ivy's mind spun about in circles for a brief moment trying to think how she could possibly explain something she didn't even have vocabulary for. All she could do was keep it simple -- not that trying to communicate in a language that had just as many variations as English, with a person whose exact place in time was still unknown, allowed for anything else...

"I come from a country far to the west, on the other side of the sea." I hope ayabbitu is a noun by her stage of the language, and not an adjective! "I do not know where we are, or what our captors want, but I think we have all been taken from different places."

And different time periods, I bet. Which means the lizard man could even be human, not alien!

 

[Esbilon]

Ahassunu

She had expected no more, but some of the joy Ahassunu had found at one of the others speaking a proper language has left her and she lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She throws a glance at the still unmoving possibly-demon before returning her attention to something the other woman had said. "To the west across the sea?" She asks sounding exceedingly puzzled, "but the sea is to the south-east!" She pauses, "or it was... before I was taken here." She frowns again, "unless, are you speaking of the Egyptian sea, but I have never heard of countries so far away. Only barbarians are said to live there. How did you learn our language if we have never heard of your lands?"

 

[Arynne]

Huh? Oh, she must be talking about the Gulf or maybe the Indian Ocean. Ayabbitu was too nonspecific, I should have said tāmtu.

She probably doesn't even know the Atlantic or the Pacific exists. What must it have been like, to live when the rest of the world was unexplored territory, like outer space? A thought briefly, flashed through Ivy's head -- that if any of the other people here are from the far future, they would have similar attitudes towards her -- but it was too much for her to wrap her mind around just then.

"Not the Lower Sea, where Sargon washed his weapons. The Great Sea of the West, tāmtu rabītu. I serve in a House of Tablets," she tried to explain, while knowing with some frustration that bēt ṭuppi did not exactly mean a school as modern people understood it, but a temple -- or section within a very large temple -- where important records were preserved, "and I learned many languages in order to understand them. Including some that have not been spoken among us in a long time."

Inside, Ivy was feeling slightly dizzy. She had always been proud of her ability to "know" the people of an ancient society vividly from the trinkets and trash they left behind -- not to mention the songs and epics and the proud boasts of kings. The people of Sumer and Babylon and Canaan had become familiar to her -- she thought. She understood them, could explain their motivations and their beliefs. But now...

 

[Esbilon]

Ahassunu

"Oh, you too serve the gods!" Ahassunu says happily, "that is good to know. In a place such as this, we need them more than ever. This seems to go even beyond Ishtar's journey into the Underwold!" After a moment, she realizes her previous rudeness and hastens to add, "I forget myself, I have not introduced myself. I am Ahassunu, a priestess of Ishtar in the great temple in Babylon. I have heard rumours from traders about rumours from sailors about a great sea beyond even Egypt, but I do not think even they imagined a country on the other side, much less one where our language and the lore of our gods is taught! It is truly amazing."

 

[Arynne]

"My name is 'Ivy' -- that would be 'Tillitu' or 'Gupnu' in your tongue, I think? I serve...Minerva--" oh, I am just getting myself in deeper and deeper, "--the goddess of wisdom. I never thought I would meet anyone from the city of Ishtar and Marduk either! This is very exciting." Her bright, eager smile was back, and genuine. "When we find a way out of this place, when we are safe, you must tell me about your great city, and your temple. I will be envied by all my peers when I get home!" If I can figure out how to use that knowledge in a way that doesn't make me look crazy, that is...

 

[Epiphany]

.

.

Purr

By Chauncey, the eldritch-lit glass suddenly flashes through another thousand or so symbols and images, far faster than the human eye can possibly follow. Brief impressions are left behind, however; strange characters in that spectacularly strange writing as well as sketches of things, places and animals perhaps but drawn in a uniformly curious way. If only they didn't fly by so fast.

Suddenly the tray hums. Each of the coins shimmers briefly with a yellowish light. Upon careful inspection, it looks as if those thousands of images and impossible writing are flickering across the tiny transparent metal-webbed surfaces, just as they did across the glass panels above. Abruptly, the images cease and the coins shimmer yellow once more.

Arynne Esbilon

That was Akkadian. While to everyone else in the room, the words were gibberish, to both women conversing the words sounded clearly through the room. It wasn't an exact translation, of course. Perhaps the most literal meaning might be 'This tongue is revealed', though Lily is well aware that the connotation of the tongue's revelation being divine in origin is impossible to separate. To a priestess, no other explanation is afforded to such a world view. To a scholar, however, there's an unmistakable mechanical tone to the speech even to the ear of someone from the 1970s.

.

 

[Esbilon]

"Minerva?" Ahassunu says questioningly, "is that another name for Nibada? Perhaps she has gone across the Sea after teaching Nabu all she knows?" At Ivy's interest in her city, she perks up, "and I would love to tell you about it. Telling stories is my second favorite way of passing the time, and I do not see any doors out of this place."

 

[Purr]

It was all so beyond belief! A... computer... seemed to be listening to them all and while doing so learning the very languages they were communicating with. "Language assimilated..." it had said. To assimilate was to take in something new. The computer did not know the Queen's English nor the American scientist's for that matter nor apparently any other form like what Torrey and the little machine spoke. And yet, all of those rapid images, it had information somewhere to call upon to assist it!

And now! What was this? It spoke again some strange brief phrase that sounded... somewhat similar to what the unclothed woman and the American scientist seemed to be conversing in. What was next? The language of the reptile... thing? The more Chauncey examined it, the less and less human it seemed. Now that it was up and interacting, Chauncey doubted it was ever human at all. But then what was it? Another form of life? From where? And what purpose?

And what were they all doing here? Where were they? Were they prisoners? Why the long sleep? What was going on? What did it mean that everything here was made of the finest metals, the smoothest glass, and the... most-plasticky plastic? If that indeed what it was. It could have been some kind of resin. And the coins! What did they mean? And why was it getting warm in here? What did the computer want? And if it got it, what would it do?

"Good heavens, all this is beyond belief!" Chauncey placed his cane under his arm and reached up, clutching his temples with his fingers. There was simply so much happening at once, so many new mysteries and oddities that it shook him to his core.

He needed help. Inside help...

Spoiler: Inside Chauncey's Mind

Chauncey begged. "Someone... Anyone... This is all so overwhelming that I cannot make heads nor tails of it. Moments ago, I was at home. Home... Away from the front lines, back in Mother England and out of bloody France. For a moment, it was as if the Great War had been but a most terrible nightmare. But this? My world has been turned upside-down!"

Spoiler: Instrumental Mood Music

"Another Place" by Hiroshima.

The voice of a woman with a French accent rang in his ears. Chauncey turned. There before him stood a mature woman of terrific grace and dignity. "Sacre bleu, Chauncey! You must keep your head together or you weel lose it."

He argued. "Marie, that is precisely what I am attempting!"

Then little Nina appeared, skin browned by the sun, clothed in only an animal hide, face paint, and a big, big smile. "You are having an adventure, Chauncey! You should ride with it like the wind through the flowers!"

"But how? I cannot make sense of any of this! Robots, lizard-men, even the air is too clean. It is all too... much!"

An old thin man with a simple brown robe and a bowl quietly came forward. He was black and silver-haired with calm eyes filled with kindness. "Chauncey-san," he whispered.

Just who he needed! "Tokurai-sama!"

"Chauncey-san, when you wish to see, see right at once. When you begin to think, you miss the point."

Chauncey gasped and took a deep breath. Then another. Think, old boy, he told himself. What does he mean, 'see right at once'?

Tokurai continued. "You are like a frantic painter with a single blank scroll and brush. Wishing to see the entire finished picture, you try to paint using many hands, but... you possess only one mind. One brush."

I must be... be overthinking all of this. Trying to do too much at once. One brush at time. One stroke at a time. One problem at a time...

"Oh, bless you, old fellow!"

But Tokurai just slowly bowed and walked back to whence he came saying only, "My blessings have been many. It is good to share them with you, Chauncey-san."

Chauncey held his hat over his chest as he watched his past life walk away.

When Chauncey saw the room and its occupants again, he wore a soft smile on his face, for the old master's words had warmed his very heart. "See right at once," he repeated. Chauncey looked to the coins and counted them. He looked at the rest of the interface. Were there places for said coins? Did the coins seem different from one another? Adjusting his spectacles, he neared them and examined them closely. Then he looked for ways out of the room. For it was one thing for mysteries to rise, but if the temperature did the same for too much longer, it was going to get very uncomfortable indeed. For everyone. Of course!

That was it! It was time to involve... everyone!

Chauncey stood and addressed the others. "All right! Here we are, stuck together in God-knows-where for God-knows what. It is time we band together for everyone's sake! I will begin by reintroducing myself. I am Doctor Chauncey Roundbottom." He pointed his cane at the woman who wore his coat. "She has told me her name - Ahassunu." Then he indicated the bold human armed with pistols and the pirate sword. "And you, by your word, are Torrey."

His cane indicated the flying robot, the American scientist, and the reptile-person. "Do identify yourselves. Please." He added the last. For no matter who you were or when or where you came from, you should always attempt civility. It was only proper!

Spoiler: For the GM and anyone else

I am rolling for Chauncey's Ingenuity + Technology + Technically Adept trait as he examines the coins, if applicable?

 

[Esbilon]

At Chauncey's mention of her name, Ahassunu turns away from Ivy for a moment. His words are still meaningless blathering to her, however, so she turns her attention back to the other woman and asks, "do you understand what he is saying?"

 

[Arynne]

"It could be. Although Minerva is a goddess of olive trees rather than grain--"

With some reluctance Ivy let her mind be turned away from the chance to hear a firsthand account of life under the Babylonian First Dynasty.

"Ah...yes. He is speaking my language, but a different, as you said, dialect. He said we are all probably going to be together for a while, from the look of things, so we should learn each other's names. His name is Chauncey, and the man with the sword is named Torrey."

With a nod to Roundbottom, she says, "Dr. Ivy Llewis."

 

[Esbilon]

Ahassunu nods with a frown marring her face and looks around the room before returning her attention to Ivy. "I don't see any food or drink here. If we are to stay here for any length of time, we should perhaps try to find both rather than pass the time with stories, however more pleasant that might be.

 

[basicallyaMarshWiggle]

Sab followed the pirate as he moved, maintaining what his data indicated was a polite distance but what a human would likely feel as encroaching into their personal space. The robot idly processed through the information Torrey’s scan had provided as he floated along: a human, with high adrenaline and a few lead deposits throughout his body. His Objective remained unfilled, and Sab felt that familiar pang of disappointment. The scan was inconsequential, filed into free memory a split-second later.
"I see at least three 'hims,' counting myself. Which one did you mean?" Torrey replied. The little blue light hidden behind the glass of Sab’s ‘eye’ dimmed and flickered a little as he searched his core.

>>query: Obj1
>>Searching...searching...
>>!ERROR!
>>Expand: ERROR=file.corrupted, access.path=0
>>Expand: Obj1=Find ### ######

The blue light steadied and grew back to it’s normal brightness.
“An odd dilemma. I...I’m not quite sure”. An important issue, surely. But protocol dictated that the primary objective came first - always came first. It was filed as a sub-objective - curiously enough the second of which. More questions as to what the first sub-objective could be were met with more errors, and Sab was equally puzzled with this new revelation.
“Thank you, I suppose. You’ve been enlightening.” Sab looked over at the two women, talking in something that was instantly labeled as ‘not-English’ and was about to float over when the man who had been about to tamper with him - Chauncey - suddenly spoke up, imploring those around him to unite. Was this a dangerous area, Sab wondered? He would never complete his Objective if he was dismantled.
Chauncey prodded his cane at the others, and Sab quickly noted down the names mentioned. As for his own name though...he was once again at a loss. A quick memory search provided nothing, and in desperation Sab began a visual inspection of his hands and arms, passing them methodically in front of him and desperate for some sense of ident-- there! In the reflection of a gleaming metal bed, a faded and scratched serial number just under his front panel caught his attention. Sab floated closer for a better look.
“Specimen...Acqui...sition…” a few letters were missing here, faded by time. “...bot. Serial number two-five-seven-five-nine” he finished proudly. Some sense - not an objective nor directive, but a ‘feeling’ similar to the exhaustion he had felt before filled him.
“I am Specimen Acquisition bot number 2-5-7-5-9” he announced proudly, and although he may not know his mission at he felt that this was a step closer towards completing it.

 

[Silanon]

Kal'Thocalas

Once more, the seer seems to open her mind, trying to reach out for Thoc's own thoughts - or maybe not, it is hard to tell. He certainly feels the same look like at first, before she sent him the different pictures that raised more questions than anything else; compared to his prior state, there is more confusion, particularly about the others. But seemingly, she is fine with that - at least, she turns towards one of those accompanying her, exchanging a few more of the squeaky sounds that apparently form their language. So different, so weak, but almost melodic, a flow of noises as the seer speaks.

She is not the only one who reacts to both his gestures and response - the one without a mask, while not unmindful, turns towards the curious, floating machine; it seems as if the device would scan him, just like the medical scanners at home - perhaps, it is a medical probe, supposed to take care of those assembled? But then again, the technician woke it up from its mechanical dreams, which implies some familiarity as well; and given the mental glimpse he received, the seer herself is not too comfortable, either.

Maybe only the technician is from here? After all, he is the one to act as the room itself seemed to slowly wake up - perhaps, he is the pilot of whatever kind of thing this is? Unlikely, given the way his head turns around to examine every little detail. Either way, the man seems to get some kind of response - which doesn't stop him from examining further, even as other noises appear. A change in the air, the transparent color turns slightly towards a warmer tone - perhaps due to his efforts, or despite them, or due to a protocol. At home, that means that there are only moments before the transport arrives at home; acclimating to the hangar's temperature where food and mates await. Does that mean that they are about to land, in some distant place that apparently is the home of noone aboard of this ship? Or is there more than one chamber, perhaps, like in the old crafts, scrapped by now? He'll surely find out, one way or another...

His thoughts get interrupted by sudden activity of the technician: pointing his peculiar, organic device at those in the room while making short, fluid noises - apparently, of some kind of importance, as those pointed at show some reaction. Where he does not make the sounds himself, the others help him out, as it seems, even the robot releases a number of words that seem to imitate their language. And then, the man points at him.

A short pause, a moment of hesitation - then, Thoc slowly stands up once more, crossing his arms as a greeting - just like demanded by the protocols, if this man happens to know those by chance. And then, he responds to the one question that a technician would ever ask when facing a masked warrior - speaking as slowly as he can, even trying to not let the different syllables mingle within his jaws. "It might not be safe. The mask is intact. So is the equipment." And then, the personal information, just so they knew who was behind the mask. "Zil'Thanei." The name of his people - for the first time, it seems to be more than an empty phrase, reminding them that all castes served a common goal. "Kalei." His caste - though rather obvious. A number of different, but quite similar words - the names of the cycles he has fought in. "Kal." The title. "Kal'Thocalas." The name. "Thoc." The short name. "Zil'Thanei." You never ended by mentioning your own name. And, in contrast to every other situation, the name of his people seems to be the first difference between him and those around him.

 

[Esbilon]

Once more, Ahassunu's gaze is drawn to the strange creature. For a moment, she was almost getting used to the strange situation from speaking in her own tongue with... Aivee? 'Tillitu' seemed safer, at least in her own mind. It appears that the creature has understood at least some of the call for introductions, but its answer is too long to be just its name. Calling upon the gifts of Ishtar, she sends out her mind to its, trying to figure out just what its words meant, and what they were meant to answer.

OOC: Once more into Psychic, dear friends!

Psychic result: 10 (dice) + 6 (Resolve) + 4 (Awareness) + 4 (Psychic) = 24

 

[Silanon]

Kal'Thocalas

Once more, he can feel the seer's gaze - trying to find answers for all those questions that might be in her mind right now. Did he answer incorrectly? There are no abnormal pictures this time, she does not try to tell him something - does that mean that she asks what he just told? A seer should know, but maybe not - she is no seer of the Zil'thanei. Just for the sake of clarification, he repeats the very same words once more; even slower this time, as if he'd talk to the dumbest child that ever saw the light.

"Not safe." A hangar, with multiple metallic vehicles in there - then, an explosion appears from somewhere in the middle, and a wall of fire seems to swallow dozens of workers that are nearby. One thing that you notice is that there are no colors anywhere to be seen; only grey shades, though several surfaces seem to quickly pulsate somehow, and you instinctively know that those things are warmer than the other regions. For example, the flames will be seen in pure white, quickly pulsating as they wash over the surrounding. The focus in these pictures is on the workers who burn to ash. There is no sadness, just recognition. The view is also a bit restricted, as if you'd look through the eye-slits of a helmet or a mask.

"The mask is intact." You have an unrestricted view at the very same mask he's wearing right now, carfully turning it in all directions as if checking that everything is ok. You can then see how he puts the mask back on, and turns towards blazing flames somewhere in a small corridor. A similar fighter stands nearby, a warm fluid runs down his armor. He grabs his mask, and is suddenly engulfed in flames.

"So is the equipment." You see exactly the same room we're in right now - you can see how his eyes carefully muster each part of his equipment, even before Thoc stands up from his bed.

"Zil'Thanei." A starship that quickly moves through the sky - for you, probably just a very fast moving star. A group of unmasked, reptilian creatures, mustering the occurence. They wear light armor, and no weaponry. A technician, trying to fix one of the shuttles - hard to describe, so it might not make too much sense for you personally. In all those cases, you can feel a very deep respect for all those people shown, and certainly more than that in case of the starship - you have the feeling that he'd easily die for everyone shown here. Multiple warriors, wearing identical masks. A flying vehicle, one reptilian creature piloting it masterfully. A youngling, crawling on the floor. A warrior, behind his mask. The same, wounded warrior as before, engulfed in flames. Again the starship.

"Kalei." Dozens of warriors, all clothed exactly like Thoc, running over a cold, desert-like area - they're in rather loose formation, and seem to head towards multiple trenches in the distance. Explosions are all over the place, but none of them turns around, or stops.

The names of the cycles: You will likely see the most iconic targets during several war episodes. That includes multiple futuristic factories, a giant tower, a power generator and various other objects - given your background, you'll probably not be able to recognize any of them, but they all show immense signs of heat. Two visions stand out in particular - they show narrow corridors in underground buildings and bunkers, and every moment is filled with a certain desperation and anger that seems to be missing in all other moments. Whatever this place is, it's very important to him, and Thoc seems to know every little detail in there. All images here are seen through the mask's eyes.

"Kal'Thocalas. Thoc." Again, you see the mask - however, the focus is not on the surrounding, which is hidden in darkness, but instead the smells. You recognize a certain, special scent - neither unpleasent or pleasent, rather neutral - but now that you focus on it, you recognize that it has always been there, the entire time - and that there have been similar, but slightly different scents whenever other specimen of his kind have been around.

"Zil'Thanei." Again, the same pictures as above.

The last few images you manage to see are of a different nature - they show Ahassunu herself, through Thoc's eyes - which means in grey colors, and oulsating wherever warmer parts show. As if he'd compare the two, you also see images of the very seem, lightly armored seers, just like you saw them in the vision of the Zil'Thanei. Again, you hear his avalanche-like voice, as he seems to ask something.

 

[Esbilon]

"His name..." Ahassunu begins, still speaking Akkadian to Ivy while her eyes are fixed on the strange, reptilian creature, "his name is Kal'Thocalas. Thoc for short," she continues with a frown, the unfamiliar names sounding strange in her ears. "He is a warrior. A defender. Of a people called the Zil'Thanei. They are like him, though only the warriors carry masks. I think. The mask is very important, perhaps it is like the statues of the gods, but personal?" She speculates.

 

[Arynne]

Ivy gave her a bemused look. "How do you know that?"

 

[Esbilon]

"His mind is not too unlike that of a man for Ishtar to reveal his meaning to me," Ahassunu says, looking back at Ivy. "So that I might better serve her, Gracious Ishtar has given me a great gift that lets me understand what people truly desire, and something of who they truly are. Though, of course, I am mortal and do not always see and hear as clearly as she shows and tells."

 

[Arynne]

"Are you talking about--" Ivy fumbled briefly, not having any Akkadian terms for "psychic powers", naturally, "--about magic?" After moment, she said, "I suppose I don't really have the right to be surprised by anything anymore, do I?"

She turned to Roundbottom again. "This is beginning to feel like a colossal game of 'Chinese Whispers', but here goes: she said that he said he is Kal'Thocalas, commonly known as Thoc, of the Zil'Thanei. Also, that mask of his is important, but it's not clear whether the importance is functional or ceremonial." Ivy then rubbed the bridge of her nose, muttering, "One of those Universal Translator thingies from Star Trek would come in handy right now..."

 

[Esbilon]

"Magic involves ritual, spells and the invocation of gods, demons or ghosts. My gift is more direct. Perhaps it is the result of some great magic worked by Ishtar at my birth, or even before, but it is not an act of sorcery when I draw upon it. The high priest of Marduk himself has said as much."

 

[Kaerri]

Torrey Singer

There was so much going on right now, and so little of it making actual sense. Torrey started with what he knew. First, the lizard-thing -- lizard-person -- seemed to finally understand no one wanted to fight here. And somehow the lovely foreign-speaking woman had been the one to arrange that. He didn't quite know how, but the two had been pretty focused on each other before the lizard-person stood down. When Dr. Chauncey's introductions reached his own name, Torrey nodded to confirm that the doctor had his name correct, listening carefully to the names of the others as they came up. And it seemed the lovely one, Aha-sanu, could somehow communicate with the lizard-person, Thoc (the rest was too odd to stick in Torrey's head; if it seemed important, he'd ask again later). And this Dr. Ivy could, in turn, speak Aha-sanu's language. Which at least meant they could all talk to each other, even if it was like a game of Gossip (which was probably the same as Dr. Ivy's "Chinese Whispers").

He gave each person a formal-seeming nod. "Nice to meet you all. But umm, Specimen Acquisition Bot... sorry, I can't remember the number. D'you have a short version like Thoc, here? Anyway, do you, or does anyone, know where we are or why? And what's with the temp going up?"