That AWFUL Guy and Grey present...
[h2]Trapped in Box 09 with Francois and 736 Part 1[/h2]

Francois looked to the odd amalmagation before him after giving the empty, vibrantly white room a once-over. "Excuse me... sir?" the student said, "Do you, by any chance, know what's supposed to happen now?" He put his hand to his chin in thought, pondering on any contextual clues that might have come up. A thought came to him. "Oh!" he snapped his fingers and then pointed at the experiment on the other side of the room, "That one lady said 'Prove your worth', so that probably has [i]something[/i] to do with what needs to be accomplished to get out, yeah? Hmm... Any idea what that might be?"

"In light of the fact that our final instructions did indeed seem to indicate some form of trial or challenge, it would be my recomendation to remain stationary until more information is presented" 736 circtuitously answered in a throaty, guttural monotone. "In the event that the current state of affairs continues without development for an excess of time, further action may be pertinent." The hulking golem stopped droning without reaching any particular conclusion.

"To answer your question, I can not currently ascertain our objective."

Unfortunately his boxmate hadn't found a sufficient idea as to what exactly to do in this situation. Though Francois did note the rather particular, wordsy way the individual before him spoke. It reminded him much of the scientists back at the lab with their increasingly scientific terminology. Looks like it was time to do some thinking himself. "Is it a examination of intelligence and [i]outside the box[i] - eh heh - thinking, I wonder?" Francois mused, taking a more indepth look of their surroundings, "Or perhaps a multiple stage test meant to gauge our capabilities, like an entry test of sorts to cull the incapable? The headmaster strikes me as the variety of individual to do something like that." He walked to the edge of the white box and touched it. It was smooth.

Nothing happened.

"Could you please check for anything that appears as if it could be a door or seam? That might be useful."

"I suppose that that strategy may be feasable" 736 replied. "However, no such features are immediately obvious. Perhaps I could search for some form of structural weakpoint via sound?" 

"Structural weakpoint..."

Francois dug his front foot into the floor as best he could, pivoted, and slammed his fist aganst the wall as hard as he could. The wall was hard, and he probably broke his hand, if that crack was anything to go by. 

The young man gripped his hand, opening and closing the fingers as he made a sort of loud hissing noise to indicate his pain. He felt a sort of crawling in his skin as the machines got to repairing his bones. "Yeeeeeowwww.... Yeah, yeah. Sound's probably good."

The patchwork abomination looked on. "I would recommend actually determining the location, or indeed, existence, of said weakpoints before attempting to exploit them." 736 deadpanned.

"Perhaps I may assist in this endevour." The golem reached for an item on his belt. Removing what looked like a dental pick, he began to scrape at the walls of the enclosure. Not a single grain of material was successfully obtained from the wall. "Hmm.." he pondered, "Far too hard to be plastic, yet it seems not to retain heat like silicon. It's obviously not a metal..." 736 turned to his compatriot. "It seems that I am unable to identify the composition of our enclosure. I suppose we should continue with our innitial plan of action."

As the Frankensteinian fellow got to work with his scientific analysis of the box's wall, a question began forming in Francois' mind. "...This is unrelated entirely to the predicament at hand, but what [i]are[/i] you, exactly?" he asked with a tilt of his head and a finger flex of his healing broken hand upon completion of the process. Unfortunately the results of the examination were inconclusive, but hopefully his curiosity-fuelled inquisition wouldn't be so.  

"I am a flesh golem" 736 replied "an alchemicaly reanimated amalgamation of deceased organic tissue". A rather abrupt answer that wouldn't really explain or justify his existence to the layman, but 736 was not cognicent of the general populace's knowledge of alchemy (or lack thereof).

"And yourself?" the golem continued. "From my, admittedly limited, experience here, I have been given the impression that only those with outstanding capabilities are enlisted. Following that logic, you must posses some form of extraordinary ability, must you not? You certainly recovered from that hand injury rapidly."

Francois snapped the fingers of his good hand and pointed at 736. "Frankenstein: The Modern Prometheus," he remarked with a wide smile, giving no explanation to his statement whatsoever. "Anyway, I'm just a normal guy, kind of," Francois answered vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders, "I'm a 100% human from a biological standpoint at least. I'm not partially Lucisean or anything, either. Just French." He tapped his 'broken' hand on the wall a few times, testing its current state. "I, ah, got taken in and pretty much raised by a group scientists - you know what scientists are, yeah? - working for international think tank on Earth, so I guess I'm kind of smart. Maybe." He shrugged sheepishly again. "But anyway, they did some experiments and stuff, and then put a half-a-kazillion nanoscopic robots in my body."

"Anyway, enough about us. Got any ideas?"

736 gave a slightly melancholy "I am at a loss. I fear that all we can do now is wait..."