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

[unasking]

[Ah Grell...

Frankenstein stands next to her, placing a hand on her chair.]

Would you like an explanation?

[erythristic]

...If you could.

[she shouldn't take advantage of him like this. but it's better than struggling through, and soon, she thinks, she might not be so damnably helpless. fragility was an interesting experience - in small doses. perhaps she's just too used to being required to be capable.]

[unasking]

Gladly.

There is currently a holographic list present that enumerates the name, age, height, weight, body markings, and skills of every person on board in excruciating detail. From what I've observed, I've only witnessed one anomaly that I cannot yet explain. Otherwise, all of the information is painfully accurate.

In addition, it seems some of us have been granted one item.

[Without hesitation, he reports:] If you have been looking for your death scythe, it was taken into inventory.

[erythristic]

That's impossible.

[she says that under her breath, but keeps her posture straight.]

I'm not sure what a holographic is, but to collect all that information and lay it out is certainly...lacking in manners. As though they perceive us as specimens of a sort. But why broadcast it to us all?

[she's tense, that much is clear, about ready to spring up if she has to. if the word reaper is on that sheet...]

What anomaly have you seen, Mr. Frankenstein?

[unasking]

It's the combination of the words hologram and graphic, so consider it a sort of technologically advanced projected image.

[She will learn!! And he will teach, apparently.]

My prediction is that it's in order to create tension, to quite literally lay all the cards on the table and reveal to us exactly who we're residing with. If you're interested in what the cards say, a young girl is reading them out loud not too far from here. From what I can tell, it's for someone else on the ship who is blind.

The anomaly exists in a young man whose card states that he is 8 years old, however his build is certainly that of a young teenager. However from what I can tell, he also has memory loss issues - which implies other things entirely.

[erythristic]

Or the answer could be quite simple, and he's not human. Perhaps some sort of faerie child - time moves differently for them than us, or so I've read.

[is she joking? is she serious? who knows.]

I might ask that girl if she could read mine to me. I'd like to know exactly what you all know about me - it's not exactly fair if you all know me better than myself, hm?

[unasking]

[From "us". Frankenstein's smile turns curious then. Is Grell a human? Her age was listed as unknown, so he wonders what kind of company he's in.]

From what I can tell, he's capable of wind magic - but there's a remarkable number of people here who have those types of skills. Far more than I anticipated.

[Though he's rather amused:]

While I'm here, I could do the honors. Your glasses still haven't been prepared, so I'd rather you not have to struggle to find her.

[erythristic]

If you're offering, I would be a fool to refuse.

[and the sooner she discovered whether or not that word is anywhere on her card, the better. while she wants to read his, she figures that will have to wait until her glasses come back.]

[unasking]

[And just like that, he'll read her profile out loud to her, making it clear that he's well enough aware that she's capable of some interesting things. What is the Cinematic Record, he wonders?]

And I believe that's it.

[erythristic]

[...that word's not there. she can work with this. the change in her is subtle, only visible to perceptive eyes - she's relaxed some, on knowing what they know. the mention of the Record is annoying, but she can still work with this without being too upset by it.]

...Unknown. I suppose they gathered that flaunting too many of a lady's personal numbers would destroy whatever shred of manners they possessed.

[unasking]

[There's no way that he misses it - the slight shift in relaxation, though he wonders what the cause of it may be. There's a small smile crossing his face, wondering what game he's playing and exactly who his opponent is.]

That may very well be the case...

Though I admit, I believe you're the only one without a listed age.

[erythristic]

Not even a guess? Then I wonder who was in charge of that information - they must have decided it didn't matter if they got sloppy at the end.

[she's actually glad for the lack of an age, though. no one needed to know but her. what does it matter?]