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]

I can't?

[No, he might be.]

[thanatosincarnate]

No one has said that in my presence and been serious.

{ He's moving towards being unsure Frankenstein was joking, albeit slightly. }

Why would that change now?

[unasking]

They do say that it takes all types. Life is easier once you realize you can always be surprised.

[are you okay, arumat

is frankenstein's joking but not joking throwing you off]

[thanatosincarnate]

{ He is being thrown off. Whether it was joking or for real though, his response would be the same. }

You're wasting your time, old man. Bothering me with this nonsense.

[unasking]

Ah, an elderly jab. I can feel my heart being bruised - or is that merely my age catching up to me?

[thanatosincarnate]

Hmph.

You can deal with it. I sense you're enacting theatrics.