"I'll use my special fans to ensure that the bad air is kept in that room."

"I think that's all, then."

She waits for him to leave and close the door, then attends to the package of food, laying it out on the table as best she can. Then she reaches up and... bother, how does this thing go on and off? It can't be that difficult...

It takes a bit of fiddling, but eventually, she finds a latch that's extremely well-hidden near the back part of the plastic contraption, that lets her release the strap pushing the plastic bit that covers her mouth and nose, and take the whole thing off.

The bedroom doesn't smell of anything whatsoever, and she doesn't feel like there's any dust or anything else in the air; it's a somewhat strange feeling. The air is extremely fresh, basically indistinguishable from being outside.

Hopefully the food smells of something still! Although she wouldn't put it past the Urizeni to 'perfect' food that was meant to be enjoyed just through texture, or something like that.

She nibbles some cautiously - so far everything points to them being scrupulously accurate in all matters, but she never quite trusts unfamiliar food any more.

The food smells really fantastic, after taking off the lid of the box; it smells sweet, and it smells rich, and it smells citrusy. It's almost like the taste of a very delightful lime lollipop, being put into smell form.

The taste of the food is stunningly delicious. The chicken is so tender, juicy and rich that it's clear that it came from no ordinary chicken, and after a few tastes, there's a really fantastic, zesty lime taste covering her tongue. The food's portion size is absolutely enormous; eating the whole thing would leave you stuffed, even if you hadn't eaten for many hours.

Judith dutifully sets out to eat all of it - she doesn't have anywhere to store it and it's not like she can share it with the whole quarantine thing, and it would be a terrible pity to waste something like this - but halfway through she has to admit that she at least needs a glass of water.

Which is in the other room... Connected outside the door... Which she has to suit back up to get to.

And there isn't anywhere to wash her hands in here, either. Ugh, she should have thought of all this. Or no, Ron should have thought it, he's the one who hasn't just been catapulted into a totally foreign country.

Either way, there's nothing for it - she wipes off her hands and mouth on a corner of the bedsheets, that being the best solution she can think of, and tries to put the thing back on.

The straps go there and there, and then they did... something... 

She manages to find the button that makes it possible to breathe in the contraption, as she gets geared up for leaving her room. A pair of electric fans, constantly blowing a breeze towards her room, greet her as she walks out and makes her way to the bathroom that's right next to her room.

So. Is there something resembling a cup or jug in here, or is she going to have to search the kitchen too?

Also she might have to see about securing a chamber pot, that is going to get very annoying in the middle of the night. Although bringing it through to empty it will also be awkward... Maybe they've got one that magically seals, that sounds like the kind of thing that is similar to the puzzle box table and this breathing apparatus in the first place.

Anyway, that is a problem for later. First, water supply - she'll want one of those by her bed in the night anyway, she often wakes up thirsty. 

There is a small, strangely heavy plastic cup, but nothing else that would be useful for drinking. There's a half-gallon glass jug in the kitchen; it's the one thing that's unexpectedly light, and it's amazingly well-balanced, as well. It gives the weird feeling of being the Platonic form of a jug, coming from the Elemental Plane of Jugs; it seems to be the goal of designers here.

Clearly they... Drink straight from jugs, here? It wouldn't be that odd, but this jug does seem designed for pouring, so clearly there's something it pours into?

She also recalls wanting a bowl to wash hands in, and tries to find a bowl or high sided plate she can carry under the water filled jug, so she doesn't have to make two trips; it's only for her, so it can be quite small. 

There are a few, barely smaller glass cups in the kitchen, but it's clear that they don't see much use.

She does manage to find a fairly spacious bowl that's useful for washing her hands. The jug fits easily within the bowl.

Excellent, that will be one small glass cup, one jug full of water, and one bowl, then. If she's very lucky she will somehow be able to reopen the door without accidentally dropping them all.

The door hinge and handle are very light; it's not hard to use the hand that's used to carry the glass of water to open the door without any worry of spilling anything.

Being used to big heavy wooden doors with similarly overwrought metal latches, Judith almost over balances due to meeting less resistance than expected, but her expedition is successful.

Unloading onto the table - this table was an excellent plan - she closes the door again to resume her food adventure. She is definitely not going to be lying down for a while, but eventually ploughs her way determinedly through it, packs up all the remains as neatly as she can (which is not very, she is neither naturally tidy nor at all dextrous), pours some water into the bowl and ceremonially washes her hands. That feels a lot better.

...now she has to work out how to move things into the floor or dresser, stow the table, and... go back out to find a quarantine bag? If they've arrived yet. 

Ron was walking towards Judith's room, holding several off-white bags with a strange pictogram on them, just as Judith opened the door. He quickly explained that Judith would want a fair few quarantine bags, as well as mesh bags to store any laundry in. He asked her how well the quarantine suit she was wearing fit, and whether she'd want to take her measurements to ensure that any clothes she ordered would fit better.

"It... seems okay? The only fiddly bit is the head straps, and those are less fiddly than my usual mask now I've got used to them. I - guess I'll need a change of, 'bodysuit', but the intake lady said it was basically okay to wear around? I don't want to cause extra hassle," by which she means extra laundry, everyone hates normal laundry and Special Quarantine Laundry must be even worse.

"Oh, and - can I get a chamber pot? I know it's pretty lazy of me, but I don't really want to be suiting up at four in the morning when I need to pee. I'm imagining you have, like, super technological sealing chamber pots to deal with the obvious problem?"

"You'll need more clothing to get into eventually, I'm pretty sure. But it's not too urgent at the moment."

"We do have special self-sealing chamber pots. We have a few different designs; I can just order one that I think will work for you, but you can try looking through our options, if you wish. It'll take a bit before it arrives, unfortunately; it's not carried in any local stores."

"You probably have a better idea what's good than I do. Uh, maybe just run the selected one by me before ordering?

I guess 'nice simple black hooded robe' is going to stand out a mile here? And nobody will even recognise Cantiarchi heraldry, let alone already have a pile of them stashed in a corner.

I should... Pack up the food box. Write more things. Digest."

"Sure. A black hooded robe would look extremely distinct and bring you quite huge amounts of attention; a simple dress would stand out much, much less."

Ron uses his phone to show a largely greyish, round chamber pot. It's tall enough to sit comfortably on, and there's an infographic showing its lid lowering and sealing the contents just seconds after its user stands up. The inside is, for some reason, white as fresh snow; the things that these people choose to make white seem like they'd be the hardest things to clean.

If Judith wants to pack up the food box and everything else, her best bet is probably making use of the space near the corners of the bed. It's the most spacious area of the bizarrely cramped bedroom.

"I suppose I could wear a simple dress. That looks fine. I'll - tidy up and have a think."

She takes the bags, closes the door, and starts to package up the food box and find a reasonable place to start a little bag pile, maybe at the bottom of the dresser.

And... Does she still have the egregore bond.

She'd contemplated this before, in - well, in the place she least liked to remember, and of course most remembered anyway - but there she'd been grimly hanging onto the certainty of it, rather than even entertaining the possibility that it had gone.

It's surprisingly hard to tell. She could probably reconstruct the Autumn ritual that would definitely tell you from first principles, but only with plenty of mana and - normally she'd study a few hagiographies, but the only hagiographies that are left are the ones in her own head.

Well, that certainly focused the mind. She finished packing up, ceremonially washed her hands again, put the gloves back on, and headed back out to the desk, to start writing down more tales of the Paragons before they fled her mind entirely.

Ron waits until breakfast before getting Judith's attention, as he sees her sleeping with her head on the living room table.

"You've managed to write so much that you lost track of time and consciousness. Right now I'm about to order breakfast, so I felt like you'd want to know that I'll be at work relatively soon. You'll probably want to order some food and get on a telepresence interview while I'm still here and can use the phone to help you out."

"The chamber pot will arrive in the evening; the elevator will open and the cargo bot will make a chime to let you know that it's here."

"Now, will you want something to eat? You don't have to eat it immediately; you can take the food out of the box and reheat it later, breakfast foods are designed to keep all day."

"Uggh." Judith is not at her most articulate as she is dragged back to wakefulness. "M'sorry? Should... Breakfast, yes."

She goes to run a hand through her hair but hits the quarantine suit straps and stops abruptly, then groans with considerable additional feeling.

"If it's fine for you, I'll order the breakfast version of soy sauce chicken, with bread in place of rice, as well as a larger side salad."

"Now, there's an org called Touch History that wants to hear about everyday life and cultural attitudes in your home country. They'll pay you about 2 months' worth of rent and food to be allowed to show the world their interview with you while it happens, but they're still willing to pay enough for 2 weeks of rent if you insist on them just writing down what you said without recording your face or voice. They're asking to hear your thoughts for 3 hours, ideally today, and they'll pay less proportionately to how much shorter your interview is. Sound fair?"

"Yes pl's", she mutters, while she is trying to work out how to respond to the rest of it.

Oh no. She has to preach to the world, for three hours, today, when she probably hasn't had much more sleep than that, while she's still in this quarantine suit...

But, as Berechiah would say, inaction is a choice, just as action is. If she just gives a recorded interview, they can twist her words.

She was just hoping to be able to get a bit more context herself, with a nice curious scholar, before being displayed in the dining rooms of the entire world.

"Can I - do it this afternoon? And is there anyone - lower-key - I can speak to first? I don't want to - be really offensive..."

They don't believe in souls, but what do they think of magic, virtue, spiritual forces, gods... She should have asked all this last night, but she thought she had plenty of time!

Also she really needs a glass of water and the loo, but she's got to get this all sorted out before he disappears to work all day.

"Yes, they're trying to accommodate you in their schedule. Name basically any hour of the day, and they'll be happy to start their interview then."

"I'm not sure what someone lower-key would mean. They'd probably find a million volunteers who'd happily hear you talk and guarantee not to tell anyone else, if you want to talk to someone less important and ensure that you won't be recorded saying anything crazy. Would that sound like something you'd like better? They'll do basically anything to accommodate you."