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The showers aren't anything to write home about. The food is; everything's fresh and amazing (or maybe she's just starved after fighting and panicking). The clothes box is pretty... interesting. Jan gets the feeling she's going to be camped out in front of that thing for an obscene amount of time in the near future. Like once she gets a place of her own and a closet of her own. The yellow top and black short shorts she found are good for the time being, but she knows she could get something better with some more effort.
A lot of her questions have been answered -- or she's been informed that there are no answers. She's done the quick tour of the Compound (which she still thinks is an awful name) and been warned away from dinosaur territory. Her head is full to bursting with information, the sensible warring with the completely irrational: The bookshelf can give you anything, but be careful because fictional characters live here. Lots of people help out in the garden and make things in the kitchen, but a lot of the other supplies magically replenish. The alcohol is free and not terrible. That's the most conflicting piece of information of all, maybe.
There's nothing more she can absorb, no more questions she has the energy to ask, so it's time to do something. So she heads over to the council offices, planning on checking herself in, inquiring about open houses and looking for familiar names in the register. Even if it's a small, empty something, it's something. Slipping through the lab/clinic, Jan heads straight for the attached office, strolling through the open door with a quick rap of her knuckles against the wood.
"Janet van Dyne: newbie reporting for processing-- Cap?!"
A lot of her questions have been answered -- or she's been informed that there are no answers. She's done the quick tour of the Compound (which she still thinks is an awful name) and been warned away from dinosaur territory. Her head is full to bursting with information, the sensible warring with the completely irrational: The bookshelf can give you anything, but be careful because fictional characters live here. Lots of people help out in the garden and make things in the kitchen, but a lot of the other supplies magically replenish. The alcohol is free and not terrible. That's the most conflicting piece of information of all, maybe.
There's nothing more she can absorb, no more questions she has the energy to ask, so it's time to do something. So she heads over to the council offices, planning on checking herself in, inquiring about open houses and looking for familiar names in the register. Even if it's a small, empty something, it's something. Slipping through the lab/clinic, Jan heads straight for the attached office, strolling through the open door with a quick rap of her knuckles against the wood.
"Janet van Dyne: newbie reporting for processing-- Cap?!"
