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

[antietam]

Judging from [ motioning vaguely in her direction ] everything, I think she's just the figurehead. Not a real person.

That means we still don't know who's actually done this to us. [ He seems very frustrated about that. But it's pretty smart of them, he guesses. ]

[breakshot]

Most likely. [ he may not be future-savvy, but it doesn't take a genius to guess what "artificial intelligence" entails. ] Though that just has me wondering where the crew's located, or the captain for that matter.

[ hand to chin, briefly glancing at the "AI's" direction. ]

I assumed that's what she meant by "we", but... [ well, that part's already been answered, it seems? ]

[antietam]

Right. [ He seems most interested in the 'staff' of the ship. ] There has to be someone controlling this ship. Unfortunately, they also control how much of it we can access.

We might never see them.