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]

Fair enough.

[He didn't actually want to hear one, but sure. Okay. He's not going to ruin Jack's dick shaped hopes and dreams.]

Guess I'll just have to cross my fingers and hope to be in your general vicinity when inspiration strikes.

[refactor]

[ That at least gets Jack to laugh, because, hey, anyone that appreciates a good dick joke is probably less terrible than the other people he's stuck with. Maybe. It's how he chooses to think of this, at least. ]

I mean, statistically speaking? Chances are pretty good. This place is friggin' tiny, there's not many of us, et cetera, et cetera, you get the picture.

[antagonize]

Huh. Looks like there's a silver lining to being stuck in space with a gaggle of strangers, after all.

[Jack needs better standards. They all need better standards.]