
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_
no subject
no subject
[that sure escalated quickly etc]
no subject
[IT'S TOO BAD LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR AREN'T HERE, THEY'D KNOW WHAT TO DO]
Exactly! I was thinking why they would bother taking us to space or making us think we're in space -- but it's part of the manipulation! They want us to feel trapped like animals so we'll lash out at each other.
But they've made a big mistake.
no subject
Underestimating us?
[it's said with a quick grin wow marinette listening to you talk is almost like listening to ladybug!]
[which is weird because you definitely aren't her!!!]
no subject
[There's no way they're similar, let alone the same person!!]
Exactly.