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[doctorize]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, DOCTORIZE FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 *** DOCTORIZE has posted an AUDIO MESSAGE. If you wish to listen, type LISTEN01. <USER> LISTEN01 AUDIO MESSAGE PLAYING... <doctorize> This is the line for Dr. Daniel Dickens. If you'd like to leave a message, please do so here. I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible!

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[sweartoyou]

[She seems to take a moment to weigh the odds of him lying, but that would be an awfully silly thing to lie about, so Ray nods again and slugs off without another world. Do your work, she's gonna water some plants to be inconspicuous, then try to quietly slide around that locked door.]

[doctorize]

[... Well, it might take a little longer to slide your way around this one in comparison to the front door, due to how many locks he had on it, but...

Congratulations, you found the room where he's keeping all of his medical equipment and other shady shit. There's several unfriendly looking tools either hanging up, organized in a drawer, or on a shelf nearby, and a couple of lab coats hanging up. There's also an examination table set up in the middle of the room with an overhead light, very similar to the one you might remember from Danny's floor. However, it's clean in here and doesn't look like there's any sign someone died on this table... at least, not recently.

... Oh, and did I mention the eyes? Because they're in here too: there's a display case where he's keeping his jars of eyes that he's collected from some of the humans he's killed in this place. The room is colder in comparison to the rest of the apartment so as to keep them from withering or rotting too quickly. There's also a filing cabinet (which is locked) but if she somehow manages to open it, it contains his notes and observations of the eyes in his collection and who they previously belonged to.]

[sweartoyou]

[Locking stuff in a locked room...How paranoid, doctor. Ray sighs softly, already finding it more troublesome than it was worth to flatten her fingers out and fluidly move them, in this kind of temperature. It's not like there's much in here that's new to her, either, given their history together, so she more or less takes care to not leave any of herself behind, makes sure none of the eyes belong to Zack, then moves on. That room was distasteful, but not altogether shocking or concerning, for now. Knowledge of the layout was useful. Hopefully she...remembered it.

Back to chores and also digging through his room for clothes or blankets that might need any sewing done, she gives no fucks.]

[doctorize]

[Look, you happened to come over when he didn't have some poor dead human strapped to the table, okay. Maybe check back in a few weeks when he's no longer an angel.

There's a few shirts and pants with tears in them in the bedroom that she can probably find and sew, what with the amount of fights he got into with Zack before she came back, or just from general mishaps when dealing with less than cooperative meals--I mean, humans.

There is three notable things about the bedroom that makes it stand out from other people's, though: the mirror has a sheet hanging over it, and it looks like there's something written on the wall in direct eyeline of where someone would see it when waking and getting up for the day. The bedside drawer also has some of his glass eyes in them, of various colors depending on whichever one fits a look he wants to go for on a particular day.]

[sweartoyou]

[Ooh, wall writing. That was always cryptically helpful, so after retrieving what clothes she can mend and carefully folding them neatly on the bed, Ray leans in to inspect the words.]

[doctorize]

[well guess what, it's going to be just as cryptically helpful as it was in the building, as it's actually the same phrase you read on B7 when you first woke up:

Who are you really?
You should ask yourself this.
Who am I? The real self, or the one I believe myself to be?
An angel? Or a sacrifice?
Know thyself, and new doors will open to you.

... Why on earth does he have this written in such a spot??]

[sweartoyou]

[...

Welp. Might as well make sure there's nothing super wrong with the mirror while she thinks on what impact these words might have for Danny, of all people. What point was there in questioning who he was... And hey, what harm was a mirror in helping to figure that out!! Really, doctor...]

[doctorize]

[The mirror itself is actually perfectly normal. It just... has a sheet over it. Then again, given the current state of his wings, maybe he just didn't want to look at himself right now?]

[sweartoyou]

[Oh good, so he's just being crazy. That's very useful. She allows the cover to drop back into place and returns to the pieces of clothing she'd gathered up before. Should be able to tell if he calls for her, so she'll get to work on concentrating her blobby hands into thin, workable fingers once more and get to fixing. And...looking up to read the wall every now and again to make sure it sticks in her dumb slime brain.]

[doctorize]

[Give or take... oh, about 30 or 40 minutes or so, you'll hear Danny calling from the living room--]

Rachel? What are you doing?

[sweartoyou]

[Man, she'd really been in the zone... Well, she got one thing mended and was just about to start a second, so she supposes it's as good a time as any. She closes up her sewing kit and heads on back, materials in tow.]

Sewing practice.

[messing with yo shit]

Something wrong?

[doctorize]

Oh, no, I was just curious! You had been rather quiet for a while now...

[He's not used to having company just... quietly existing in his house, okay.]

[sweartoyou]

[Stares..........]

You...want me to make noise while you're trying to work?

[sounds super fake]