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

[parodeity]

[ what like wendigos don't sound fake as hell, emily ]

I'm not going to use it on any of you. Knight's a class that's meant to defend, or at least that's how I'm takin' it. The sword is only for use on shit that jumps out at us.

[thatbites]

[okay, but those definitely happened and they didn't swing swords at them soooo]

You're a knight. [what else did she EXPECT at this point?] Okay, fine. That's fine. Good job using your fencing for good.

[parodeity]

Not like a middle ages one, if that helps, it's just my class in a bullshit game I had to play. But yeah, I've been trained in swordfighting from like. Birth basically.

[ he shrugs. ]

And it's for defendin', not...murder or what the fuck ever. Though I'm sure we're about to get a revelation of complete bullshit from our captors.

[thatbites]

[That makes even less sense, Dave.]

I figured. Lock a bunch of people in a tight space and half of them are apparently trained to fight- if this turns into some stupid battle arena thing I'm petitioning to get out.

[parodeity]

I'll sign your petition, tbh, this is already complete bullshit and I got no interest in a gladiator cagematch.

[ or any kind of match???????

ugh let him go home where he was refusing to fight and shit ]

[thatbites]

Think they got Change.org on one of those tablets?

[They had every other app and she hasn't seen a lot of loose leaf floating around.]

[parodeity]

The internet seems to be like, blocked or some shit, so probs not but I think there's probably some sort of word app.

[ they can slum it. ]

[thatbites]

Great. Hopefully whoever's behind this is thoughtful enough to share their email so we can forward it to them.

[parodeity]

We can shout it at them otherwise.

[thatbites]

Write it down and just read it aloud in every room until they hear it. Sounds like a great plan. Maybe we can throw in a sit-in at the cafeteria.

[parodeity]

Shit, what's the point of being a teenager if you don't get your rebellious teen on.

[thatbites]

Probably more socially acceptable to rebel against kidnappers though.

[Shrugs one shoulder. Unless this turns out to be some big brother thing by the government which is a whole other bag of worms.]

[parodeity]

Fair point, unless we're talkin' like, government-approved kidnappers. Space governments are supposed to be giant dicks right?

[ sci fi movies wouldn't lie to him on this surely ]

[thatbites]

I guess? Aliens weren't really supposed to be an option but... [here they are in space with holograms?] Well, I don't really remember being beamed up with a load of cows.

[If she was Jessica and Ashley would be here-]

[parodeity]

In my experience aliens aren't that interested in cows.

[ but also in his experience aliens are trolls ]

[thatbites]

Yeah, they seem way more preoccupied with making asses of themselves. [Borderlands.] Are these like the imps or nah?

[parodeity]

No, the aliens I've met are...basically shitty internet trolls with a penchant for murder, honestly.

[ he frowns. ]

I'm not sure if that's disappointing to me personally or not.