WEEK 1 - Online

[al2955]

the pygmalion. . . ONLINE CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (1)

monday (41) survivors It had been three days since you had awoken. The ship was still quiet, except for the low hums of enigmatic machines with no apparent purpose. You awake, like usual, to dim lighting and poor rations. Perhaps being on the ship had grown monotonous — it was, perhaps, amazing how little anything seemed to happen in space, a final frontier of malaise. That monotony is crushed by a voice echoing through the narrow hallways. Reformatting . . . Reformatting . . . Reformatting complete. The Pygmalion is online. Welcome, travelers. Please assemble in the meeting room. Your presence is mandatory. Silence falls once again. A minute or so passes, and the lights around the ship finally brighten, the walls looking more alive and more unfamiliar — as if you must relearn the ship's interior once again. The robots on deck begin to make rounds, nudging and pushing at the ship's passengers to make their way to the meeting room. You hear the doors behind you lock. It seems there is only one path to take. ENTER COMMAND_

Comments

[unasking]

[From "us". Frankenstein's smile turns curious then. Is Grell a human? Her age was listed as unknown, so he wonders what kind of company he's in.]

From what I can tell, he's capable of wind magic - but there's a remarkable number of people here who have those types of skills. Far more than I anticipated.

[Though he's rather amused:]

While I'm here, I could do the honors. Your glasses still haven't been prepared, so I'd rather you not have to struggle to find her.

[erythristic]

If you're offering, I would be a fool to refuse.

[and the sooner she discovered whether or not that word is anywhere on her card, the better. while she wants to read his, she figures that will have to wait until her glasses come back.]

[unasking]

[And just like that, he'll read her profile out loud to her, making it clear that he's well enough aware that she's capable of some interesting things. What is the Cinematic Record, he wonders?]

And I believe that's it.

[erythristic]

[...that word's not there. she can work with this. the change in her is subtle, only visible to perceptive eyes - she's relaxed some, on knowing what they know. the mention of the Record is annoying, but she can still work with this without being too upset by it.]

...Unknown. I suppose they gathered that flaunting too many of a lady's personal numbers would destroy whatever shred of manners they possessed.

[unasking]

[There's no way that he misses it - the slight shift in relaxation, though he wonders what the cause of it may be. There's a small smile crossing his face, wondering what game he's playing and exactly who his opponent is.]

That may very well be the case...

Though I admit, I believe you're the only one without a listed age.

[erythristic]

Not even a guess? Then I wonder who was in charge of that information - they must have decided it didn't matter if they got sloppy at the end.

[she's actually glad for the lack of an age, though. no one needed to know but her. what does it matter?]