[h3][color=#90adb1]Marcus Bradley[/color][/h3] [sup]Location: Bedroom // Vending Machine[/sup][hr]

Marcus wondered what the surveillance capabilities of this place were. Had they been watching him in the night? Did they see him make several trips back and fourth to the vending machine? Did they notice just how many snacks and drinks he brought back? Were they monitoring the channels on the TV he turned through? As an infomercial played, an enthusiastic man pitching the latest and greatest in vacuum packing devices, Marcus found himself smirking at the thought. If they had been paying attention they probably found him odd. For hours he'd played music and sat cross legged on the ground. Sometime after that, he found himself waking up facedown on the carpet, a bit dazed but hungry, so began the first of many trips to the vending machine. The small trashcan in Marcus' room was piled high and nearly overflowing with chip bags, cookie wrappers, and emptied Dr. Pepper bottles. 

He had his hand on the doorknob, ready to venture out for another vending trip, when an alarm started going off. Jolting sharply, he stared at the door, then wondered if he had set off a sensor of some sort. Had he got too many snacks? Was there a limit? The intercom crackled and Marcus tensed up, prepared for the worst-- oh.

	Oh, that was just the wake up alarm.
		[i]OH.[/i] That was the [i]wake up[/i] alarm.

Slamming a hand heavily into his face, Marcus grunted as he listened to the announcement, then cursed his inability to sleep. Already it was morning, which meant it was too late to try and sleep again. Notably, it was the carpet which had given him the most rest although, that was probably due to the series of exercises he had done to tire himself out. What a shame this lack of sleep was, but he hoped it wouldn't impair him too badly. Hopefully. With a weary sigh, Marcus walked into the bathroom, then turned the hot water on to let it heat up for-- [i]wait a second...[/i]

Blinking at the steam, Marcus moved his hand into the stream of water. How had it heated up so fast?! He was quite astounded-- this was nothing like his house at all. He didn't travel much so Marcus had too little experience with [i]water that heated almost instantly[/i]. Marcus couldn't help but make a soft grunt of awe before he started undressing. Soon he took a shower, dried himself off, then stared at his dirty clothes...

	Did he have to wear them again?

Squinting, Marcus stared at his dirty boxers, reached down for them, then gave them a sniff-- A few coughs escaped him. He firmly concluded that it was probably best to search the room for clothes. They had provided basically everything else so Marcus figured it was worth a shot. He walked over to a closed door, to what he assumed was the closet, then opened it. Once again Marcus found himself stunned. Within the closet were clothes that were... were they [i]his?[/i] He then went to a nearby dresser, found more clothes that were his-- his socks-- his shoes--[i] wait...[/i] Picking up one of the heavy black boots, Marcus noticed how new and clean it was. These people were certainly trying hard to please, weren't they? All of these clothes looked like things he would wear, but Marcus quickly figured out they were all newly purchased. Shaking his head, Marcus devoted his time to getting dressed, easing the strangeness of the clothing situation out of his mind-- how had they known what he liked to wear?

Eventually Marcus emerged from his room clad in jeans, workbooks, and a white t-shirt. Yawning slightly, Marcus made his way down the hall and toward the cafeteria again, figuring he didn't have much time before testing began-- his shower had been a bit of a long one, after all. More garbage from the snack machine would have to do.