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

[blondophile]

[Standing straight and erect, arms folded rigidly over her chest, Carta seems to be memorizing every last detail memory if her intense glare is anything to go by. There is the occasional twitch of the eyebrow.]

I require an explanation of what manner of weaponry "ramen" is.

[parodeity]

It's a deadly and slow-acting poison mostly utilized by college students.

[blondophile]

How would you happen to come across such knowledge? Have you utilized it yourself?

You look far too young to be a college student.

[parodeity]

Nah, I'm not a high enough level to unlock the deadly ramen arts. But I was raised by a dude who was a master of 'em.

[ or whatever the fuck bro did with his weeaboo shit ]

[blondophile]

And yet, you are high enough to wield a sword.

In any case, poison is the coward's tool.

[parodeity]

It's my strife specibus, what can I say.

[ dave shrugs. ]

I'll admit poison isn't my cup of tea, either. Since it would be the sort of cup of tea that would you know kill you and shit.

[toprotecttheworld]

Ramen is no weapon!

[And in comes Jessie! Prepare for trouble, it's time to talk about noodles! So listen up, and don't you dare break to doodle.]

When money has forsaken you and you can't afford anything, there's always ramen! When you're sleeping on a park bench and only have a dollar to your name, ramen is there to feed three! Ramen is like an old friend coming home!

[blondophile]

[Prepare to be pointed at, because that is indeed a very demanding looking, if not accusatory digit extending to add weight to Carta's tone.]

Explain, young lady!

[toprotecttheworld]

Don't you "young lady" me, I'm older than you are!

[Because the mods said I had to guess her age and Jessie is a Christmas Cake.]

Ramen is instant noodles! You add hot water to them, and they're delicious! When you have to eat them, of course.

[blondophile]

A lady never boasts about her age! [Pretty sure she's gotten that one wrong, but it's the spirit of the argument


Wait. What.]

What?

[toprotecttheworld]

I can see grasping simple concepts is difficult for you, but I'll try to explain. They're dry noodles. You add hot water. You wait three minutes. When the three minutes are over, you have salty, seasoned ramen from practically nothing at all.

[unasking]

[Ah.

That's his.

Frankenstein pinches the bridge his nose.]

It would be too kind of them to provide me a weapon, wouldn't it?

[blondophile]

[Oh, okay. hi.

More like hi

Seeing how everyone else came equipped, you'd forgive me for presuming.

[unasking]

Nothing to forgive. Perhaps a poorly prepared bowl of ramen could be seen as a weapon, however I don't think I'd ever let such a tragedy come to pass.

[blondophile]

I am coming to understand that we are talking about mere packaged food, now.

[unasking]

[A hint of amusement:]

You've never tried it before?

[todorable]

The type that means you're an incredibly bad cook.

[blondophile]

Cooking is for peasants.

[todorable]

Ramen generally isn't for the rich. ...Unless it's one of those super fancy limited edition kinds, with truffles and gold flakes or something. But those are pretty rare.

[blondophile]

[Now she's not sure if her leg is being pulled or not.]

Why would anyone have that bestowed on them as a possession unless there was a distinctive prospect of starving to death? Which does not seem to be the case...

[todorable]

[surely no one would dare!]

Some people just always want to be prepared. Maybe he's got some weird dietary issues, can't survive without 300% of the daily recommended value of sodium or something.

[antagonize]

The most deadly, dangerous type of weaponry there is. Haven't you ever heard of it?

[Said in the most serious, matter of fact tone possible.

He's bullshitting.]

[blondophile]

Hence asking for an adequate explanation. You need not condescend.

Tell me of the ramen.

[antagonize]

Sorry. I'm just gobsmacked to hear someone doesn't know what ramen is.

["tell me of the ramen" holy shit this person is for real......]

It's mostly used by students and the poor. Quick. Efficient. Some would call it "instant", but it isn't. Not really. Fastest it can finish the job is in four minutes — unless you try to start a fire with it.

[By, you know, turning the stove up way too much.]

[blondophile]

What would compel students and the poor to take a life through that? Are there no laws?!