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

[antagonize]

Looks like I might owe you ten bucks real soon.

[They got summoned through an intercom. There's already a hologram here with everyone's shit out in the open. How long until they find out what they're "participating" in, exactly?]

[parodeity]

Which means jack shit if I owe you twenty after a memo that we got saved and or we have to kill everyone.

[ p.s. he doesn't actually have cash on him. sorry jason. ]

Why the fuck can so many people hack shit. Teach me to hack shit, Jaybird, that sounds like something useful for space.

[antagonize]

Be optimistic. Maybe this will all turn out to be a prank. A very elaborate, very invasive prank.

[To be fair, he doesn't have any cash on him either. They're gonna have to write I.O.U. on space sticky notes or something.]

I might have said yes, but — nah. I'm gonna have to deny you now that you've called me "Jaybird". It's an honor thing, you see.

[parodeity]

What, unfair. If I stick to callin' you Jason and not awarding you my super awesome nicknames, can I get that changed back to a maybe?

[ he has no useful tech skills beyond traditional teenager in 2009 shit!!! ok!!! ]

And sure, I'll be optimistic. If you are, which I'm p sure you're not, but hey.

[antagonize]

It's too late. No takebacks. You're stuck dealing with the consequences of your bad choice in nicknames.

[This is what you get for not being adopted by a billionaire vigilante, Dave.

That said, he laughs.]

Sorry to say, I've never been much of an optimist. Guess that means we're stuck being realistic.

[parodeity]

You realize you're openin' yourself up to me givin' you even worse ones, of course.

[ dave grins a little, though, so it's not like he's actually bothered about this. ]

And hey. Realism is a more useful outlook anyway, I figure? I leave being optimistic to two of my other friends and handle the realistic view for them. It evens out.

[antagonize]

I'll take my chances.

[GRIMLY. He's joking.]

Realism is the more useful outlook. That's a fact. What good is optimism if you end up with nothing but disappointment?

[parodeity]

I mean, I agree, first off. But I also guess I think optimists are important, too. Someone has to believe in a better world. Otherwise no one else would bother to try to make it a thing.

[ or something. ]

[antagonize]

If I didn't know any better, I'd say that sounded a little optimistic of you, Strider.

[If Dave had any illusions of Jason being cool, well. He just called him by surname. Nerd.]

[parodeity]

We're pretty lucky you know better, then.

[ dave won't call him on it...though the left corner of his lips twitches up into a smile. ]