2024-12-09 - POV: Your Sleep Paralysis Demon is from New Jersey

At first glance, the IT side of the Security Office has been abandoned. Honestly, it's... totally negligent. Or it would be! Except Poe actually is there. She's just on the ground, on all fours, with her ass sticking up out from under the desk.

Overhead, the impressive wall of monitors switch screens at a regularly rotating interval. Park festivities carry on with cartoonish grandeur.

A feminine grunt escapes Poe as she carefully back-crawls out from the cramped space. Her leggings aren't strictly regulation, but they're like... basically the same color as the pants she's supposed to wear down here.

The first frustration Parker has to deal with is the fact that his staff card doesn't let him through the door. He's not strictly security, having an office elsewhere in the park, but his position requires regular communication with security personnel. And he's a supervisor, damnit, which he makes sure the person who lets him inside knows.

Sharp clicks from the heels of his wingtips sound as he nears IT. There, he pauses for a moment to survey the array of screens. Then, with a deep frown, he lowers his gaze to the woman squirming out from under her desk. Rather than say hello, he clears his throat theatrically.

Still on her knees, Poe's mass of curly brunette hair is only just sliding into full few when Parker makes his presence known. And Poe-- screams! Quick and girlish, the shrill note flies through the sterile workspace like a dart.

In comparison to the scream, everything falls sharply silent soon after. Poe returns her glasses to the bridge of her nose. She must have been down there to retrieve them. "Sorry," she chuckles, sheepish, as she gets to her feet, "You scared me. Did you need help with anything?"

She waits a long time. "Are you okay?" Poe asks, laughing nervously and stepping closer to Parker, fixing her glasses just a little bit more.

Parker feels the first sign of paralysis – a full-body tingle that travels in a starburst from the center of his body – as he’s stepping away from Poe’s scream. One hand freezes as it’s being raised in defense, while the other loses its grip on an iPad. His expression is one of dismay.

While he can hear Poe’s apology, he can’t respond to it. While he can feel the tablet threatening to slip to the floor, he can’t stop it. He really can’t do much of anything. Even his eyes remain fixed head of him, unblinking yet alert; thankfully, he can still breath.

This is Parker’s second frustration of the visit, and it’s a big one.

Poe closes some of the distance between them. Under the presence of not yet believing anything is wrong, she laughs nervously, again. She asks if he’s alright, if she can help him somehow, if… if… at some point, her smile begins to wane. Just the faint outline of it remains frozen to her expression as she waves a hand an inch or two from Parker’s face to test his responsiveness.

She talks when she’s nervous, giving Parker a play-by-play of her worst fears. Somehow they get onto this one time while growing up along the Jersey shore, she thought a bumblebee was dead because it wasn't moving for a long time, but then it did suddenly start flying -- before she googles his symptoms. The internet says he might have sleep paralysis? But how can that be? More than once in the fifteen minutes it takes him to unfreeze does she accuse him of playing a trick on her, but lord, never once does she shut up.

If only Parker was playing a trick on her. He could blink then, laugh a snarky little laugh, and get down to his business. Instead, he’s stuck, and it’s fifteen minutes of pure torture. He’s spent so much of his life avoiding things like the Jersey shore only to have to hear someone go on and on about it like that.

When the paralysis eventually wears off, he stumbles back and nearly drops his iPad. “Insufferable,” he wheezes, throat dry and itchy. He coughs and rubs an eye with the heel of his palm. “What did you do to me?” he wonders. Then, shouting now, he repeats himself. “What did you do to me!?”

Poe screams, again. She wasn't expecting him to suddenly move! It's exactly what happened that time with the bee! At least this time she doesn't freeze him.

Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a finger, Poe swivels her head on her neck. "Don't use that tone of voice with me," she commands, shrill with a tinge of whininess. A palm is lifted between them to pacify the man.

The scream jolts Parker, who is still as confused as that bee probably was, or anything that finds itself waking on the Jersey shore. "I -- excuse me?" He grips his iPad tighter. What does he even want to say to this woman?

After a deep, centering breath, he carefully smooths out his clothes and regains his composure. "Your name?" He levels his gaze at her. "I'm Parker Somerset with the Safety Compliance team." He speaks like there should be some weight to all of that.

"That sounds made up, like being a Creative Director," Poe crosses both arms.

"Poe." She crinkles up her nose, bunny-like, to keep her heavy-lensed glasses in place. Up-chinning to indicate the room they currently occupy, she elaborates unnecessarily: "Surveillance."

A pause.

"Wait. Is it unsafe here, am I in danger?"

“Well, it isn’t,” Parker responds quickly, dropping his gaze to the tablet screen a moment. It has one of those films that prevent people from seeing its contents from most angles besides looking at it straight-on, though it’s imperfect.

Without missing a beat, he says, “That depends on what you find.” He looks back up at Poe, studying her. “There was some suspicious activity over the sound system during the recent tree lighting ceremony. I was hoping you could provide recordings from this building on that day, since park-wide announcements are made here.”

His tone is almost accusatory, but maybe that’s for effect. “If someone has their hands on a key or there’s been a lapse in security, it could mean a lot of paperwork for us both.”

"I can pull up footage from a specific timeframe and send you a zip file," one of Poe's eyebrows arch high above the rim of her glasses, "Except, uh, these computers are networked. If a bad actor managed to access things remotely..." She flaps her hands in a demonstration of helplessness. And then she just stands there, and does nothing besides blink at the man. "Are you the only one investigating this?" Poe asks, perhaps prompted by Parker's remark about paperwork (or lack thereof). Her voice goes up an octave girlishly.

Parker nods as if she should already be doing that. For a moment, they both stand there in a blink-off. “Is there really nothing to be done about hackers?” It’s an unbelievable thought, but maybe he’s talking to the wrong person for that.

When asked about the investigation, he smirks and says, “Not anymore.” Hint-hint. “Look, I don’t think it’s terrorism or anything, but I’d hate if there was some kid running around with access to places they shouldn’t be. So, can you help?”

Poe mumbles a few syllables to the tune of: 'I don't know.' She's not the FBI. But with these glasses? She can read any situation. "So... management hasn't sanctioned this... and it's like... totally outside of your job description? Is that what I'm picking up on, dude?"

"I can help." That sounds like there's gonna be a caveat. "I'll check the footage, myself. IF I see anything out of the ordinary, I'll share it with you... so long as you read in the actual security team on what you think is going on." Poe pauses, clucking her tongue in an extremely sassy way, "I recommend knocking first."

Parker scoffs at the notion. "Management trusts me well enough to take initiative." There's a very thin thread connecting this to his job, but it's not entirely absent. Whatever he - no, they - find may decide that one or way another, though.

"I came here to do that very thing," he says, looking around as if to see whether he ended up in some other fake security office. "Are you not part of the team?" Maybe lines were crossed somewhere, so he checks something on his iPad, then looks back up at Poe with a scrutinizing expression.

Poe scrutinizes Parker as well. She shifts her weight on a foot and makes her way back to her wall of monitors. It absolutely dwarfs her. "Someone who isn't me," she elaborates shrilly, not bothering to look over her shoulder, "Detective Blake or somebody." The wheels of her chair whirr quietly as she settles into it, tucking her legs beneath her childishly. "This isn't going to be, like... instantaneous," she clarifies after a few moments of doing a lot of computer-type activities—computering. Very eventually, Poe checks on Parker out of the corner of her eye. Her fingers stop moving on the keyboard and track pad. You can go, now, she doesn't say.

Parker's nose wrinkles distastefully as Poe settles into her chair. He, too, glances at the collection of wall monitors, which displays enough to distract him for some time. He's feeling that stare, though, an almost-side-eye with weight to it. "I'm patient," he says. "Your help is appreciated."

He turns to go, but pauses for a moment before looking back over his shoulder. "Oh, and I'd be very interested to hear more about whatever it is you did to me today. Whatever you may have done to that poor Jersey bumblebee." Another pause. "You're a dangerous woman, aren't you, Ms. Poe?"

Not that swivel chairs are particularly intimidating, but Poe swivels her chair with the intention of casting Parker a smoldering and mysterious look. Except she fucks that up big time. A strand of her wild hair gets caught in the crevice between headrest and the main body of the chair, so when she goes to turn her head, she immediately jerks back in a sharp, violent motion. "Ack!" And then her glasses fall right off into her lap.

This looks like it's going to take a moment to resolve.

That might have been the kind of look Parker was hoping for, because despite the discomfort that came with fifteen minutes of paralysis, it would have been confirmation of some thrilling new magic. And he hopes it was magic, because some of those symptoms Poe rattled off were actually terrifying.

But, well, this happens. "Oh," Parker winces and backs away. "I'll leave you to things," he says, gesturing to the room as a whole before turning to make his exit. They'll be in touch, he hopes.

By the time Poe gets herself sorted out, Parker is gone. Gone too is her dignity, and any indication of the magic Park so seeks. But that doesn't mean they can't soon return.

Poe spends the rest of her shift packaging the footage Parker has asked for. She doesn't have time to watch it herself just yet. That will have to wait.