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

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[brooches]

[ Oh my fucking god. Is this happening? It may not be French, but the smell is intoxicating. The spices, the cheese - ]

What is th- Wait. Is that...?

[ Like in New York! She read about a place called Tomato Pies opening in Trenton, New Jersey. This pizza craze the Italians brought over... ]

What's on it?

[ She's going to look around for silverware. None? Okay, two fingers picking it up and cheese is starting to slide -! ]