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

[thatbites]

At least I have someone's word on that! Yay.

[She twirls her finger. Yup, sarcasm.]

Honestly, it's just good that you don't have a gun on you like other people apparently do.

[tacklefordwhimsy]

The amount of weapons people have here is actually worrying.

[Okay, that actually has Shelley a bit concerned about that]

We should be fine as long as no one loses their mind. It'll take one single person to turn this spaceship into a battlefield.

[thatbites]

You're telling me?

[That's what she was saying from the start! Just way more accusatory.]

Chalk me up for having zero faith in that not happening.

[tacklefordwhimsy]

...I hate to admit it but yes. It's just matter of time.

[Hmmmm]

There must be some way of not having so much trouble once everything starts going wrong. It may be selfish, but I really need some way to stay safe. I can't think what, though.