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

[al2955]

I am sorry you are dissatisfied with my personal choices. If you would like, I can assemble a request list for our meetings.

[ She says nothing about the apple juice, yet a minute or so later a robot rolls into the conference room carrying a chrome platter with an equally chrome highball glass atop it. The robot sets the glass down in front of Dave, garnishing it with a small metallic umbrella. ]

I hope the juice is to your liking, Dave Strider.

[parodeity]

I would like that. I'll write you a list of requests if you give me somethin' to do it with.

[ he sounds...mollified...although he's still pretty suspicious. this drink looks so ridiculously overdone and oh my god there's an umbrella? ]

Um, if we're doing food as well as drinks also I would like pizza but if not thanks for the juice man.

[ he guesses

fuck yes aj ]