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

[qundercover]

Kind of our speciality. Livening up parties and standing out in a room. Not a lot of us outside Par Vollen - tend to make big impressions.

So, same to you. What are you?

[unasking]

[He opens his palms out to Iron Bull, his expression challenging as he says, plain as day:]

Human.

[just a really good-looking skeleton over here]

[qundercover]

Right.

[Doesn't seem phased by the challenge, if he wants to keep his hand close then that's fair enough.]

Most humans I know don't stick around that long.

[unasking]

[Well, he can't help but smile at that.]

Most humans can't do what I can - or so I thought, though I'm becoming more and more pleasantly surprised today.

Stating it simply, it's remarkable what thorough research and reckless curiosity can accomplish.