[When Scarlett plugs the device into the screen, the screen immediately lights up and begins to chirp. A meter on the screen is labelled as "COUNTS PER MINUTE" with three sections labelled as well: SAFE, UNSAFE, and LETHAL. The needle swings to hover smack in the middle of the UNSAFE section.
As Castiel and Scarlett make their way into the adjoining room, they'll see that it's a dim workroom outfitted with a workbench and as many shelves as can fit into the little space. This may have been a closet, once.
The workbench is littered with various scrap pieces that look like metal and wood at first glance, as well as a pile of many complicated and precise tools, like one might use to repair antique clocks or jewelry. Off to one side of the bench, there's a laptop lying open, a text document loaded up on the screen.
Finally, seeped out from under the workbench and taking up a bulk of the floorspace is strange heap of molten metal, though it's solidified and cracked with age by now. It's slightly warm to the touch.
As Scarlett enters the room with the device in hand, it chirps wildly. The needle swings past the LETHAL zone and right off the meter.]
no subject
As Castiel and Scarlett make their way into the adjoining room, they'll see that it's a dim workroom outfitted with a workbench and as many shelves as can fit into the little space. This may have been a closet, once.
Hundreds of lanterns line the shelves, some pristine and new while others are in a desperate state of disrepair. Some could hardly be called lanterns at all, and some are more modern while others are classic in design, ranging in age and style and color and even function. Each lantern is unique, and all of them are unlit.
The workbench is littered with various scrap pieces that look like metal and wood at first glance, as well as a pile of many complicated and precise tools, like one might use to repair antique clocks or jewelry. Off to one side of the bench, there's a laptop lying open, a text document loaded up on the screen.
Finally, seeped out from under the workbench and taking up a bulk of the floorspace is strange heap of molten metal, though it's solidified and cracked with age by now. It's slightly warm to the touch.
As Scarlett enters the room with the device in hand, it chirps wildly. The needle swings past the LETHAL zone and right off the meter.]