WEEK 14 - I have been — and always shall be — your friend.

[al2955]

the pygmalion. . . ONLINE CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (14)

monday (41) survivors You stand with your friends, your family, and your enemies, shoulder to shoulder. The deceased and the living are the same, now, and you've been reunited with the person trapped on the opposite ship. You have four choices. Four options laid before you - five, if you're smart about it. You have the option of staying on the Nuwa, a ship pre-programmed to land somewhere safe, soon, and then it's your's for the taking. You have the option of entering the Nuwa's virtual reality and crafting your own perfect world, but knowing it was a perfect world created by your own hand. Your third option is one of the Cradles, a machine created to bring you bliss, and permit you the dream you've always wanted, without the knowledge it's a virtual reality. Your fourth option lays in front of you, on the bridge of the Nuwa, and it's a tear in the fabric of reality, but you can see your home waiting for you. It looks idyllic, perfect, just the way you'd want it to be. Your fifth option lies in another tear - the tear of a friend. Perhaps their heart is kind enough to take in a stray. The choice is your's to make, and whatever you choose, know that, for the first time in fourteen weeks, it's your choice. taken list profiles private conversations setting rulebook ENTER COMMAND_

Comments

[thanatosincarnate]

No.

{ He is a hop and a skip away from accidentally saying 'am not' but he's not going there!! He's also grumbling even more because Clover is giggling. Why.

Damnit. }

...What's so funny?

[socloverit]

Haha—I don't know, nothing. [Because it isn't funny, really, that a dead man is here and ruffling her hair and they're bantering in a way they would have, should have if they could have built their friendship against something besides trying (only trying) to piece her shattered self together. If it's anything, it's completely ridiculous, maybe enough that it pushes past the grief for now. After all this time spent being miserable, maybe she'll just latch onto any excuse to laugh again.] The look on your face, I guess.

[thanatosincarnate]

{ Indeed... something about this should be considered utterly ridiculous given everything's that happened. He too welcomes the excuse to have a lighthearted moment, somewhere within all of this grumpiness. }

...What about this look? Usually it sends those who see it running in fear.

{ Arumat finds himself asking, and he'll just give Clover an expression that looks for a moment pissed-as-all-hell, but the way his lips twitch suggest that he still has it within himself to joke. It reminds him of when he vaguely even poked fun at Edge, when they were on The Calnus. }

[socloverit]

[Instead of an actual answer:] Drama queeeeeen. Ooh, I'm soo scaaaared. [Could that be sarcasm, young lady?

But she pulls out of the hug, aware that this has already lasted past social acceptability, and still smiling.

And now it's her turn to be entirely out of ideas on what to say, but there's a band made of pink yarn wrapped on her right wrist—a little frayed from her adventures, speckled here and there with smears left where she couldn't clean blood well enough to keep it from staining—and she holds her arm out in front of her, pulls lightly at the band's edge. She remembers; she's worn it all this time.]