
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
especially now, when he has jack on his left and fiona on his right and jack leering at him like that. ughhhh.
he just sort of wags a finger at jack then, testing the waters. ]
I'll tell you if you tell me about your scar. I didn't even know you had one.
[ which says a lot because #1 handsome jack stan and everything ]
no subject
Yeah, funny thing about masks. They hide things that I don't want people seeing.
[ And also things he doesn't really want to talk about, because he can count the people that know about that on one hand pretty easily considering most of those people are dead. And there were even some of them that weren't his fault! But in terms of an answer, it's not quite a "no," but it's not really a "I'll consider it" either... ]
no subject
Okay but what if someone murders you and pulls out your eyes and mask and the only thing left to ID you is your scar but no one else on this ship has seen it so they ask me to do it but I haven't seen the scar yet so I can't tell anyone that you were killed and then I can't get revenge for you because I don't know what your scar looks like because you never showed me it because you're insecure? What then?
[ rhys, you've been away from jack too long. now, you're like a stupid eager puppy who talks too much. ]
no subject
First, you're assuming that I'm going to get murdered, which is super insulting. [ That's important to point out, but for the second part, his tone does drop to a more serious one. ] Second, you're pushing your luck. Pretty sure my eyes aren't my only identifying feature, pumpkin.
no subject
Oh... but what else would it be? I mean, you have really nice eyes, Jack.
[ sorry, fiona. you have to listen to this stupid conversation. ]
Also, everyone gets murdered, Jack. You're already supposed to be dead soooo, yeah. Just looking out for you, is all.
no subject
[ Really, why did you ask, Rhys? Jack is absolutely vain enough to think that there's plenty about him that's perfectly handsome and unique. Yet despite his pretty adamant refusal to show what's under the mask, his expression at least shifts away from angry, and he sinks a bit lower in his chair as he... sulks. He's pretty much sulking. ]
Listen, I can count the amount of people that have seen me without the mask on one hand. I don't show it to anyone. [ Well, minus those people. ]