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

[brooches]

[ So all her secrets are revealed but this guy just gets - ]

Back massages? [ A huff. ] How is that considered a skill...?

[locktouching]

If you think that, you must have never had a really good one.

[Glances at the list, looks back at her.]

Well well. So you have the locktouch, too.

[brooches]

I'm not sure I ever would want one that could be called a 'skill'.

[ She stiffens at the 'locktouch' line... it's called lock picking, dude. ]

I suppose so? It's not a touch so much as learning the mechanics and listening to the lock.

[locktouching]

What did you learn the skill for? Thieving? Spying? It's the former for me.

[brooches]

Boredom, but... mainly survival.

[ It was a necessity, after all. ]