WEEK 8

[al2955]

the pygmalion. . . ONLINE CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (8)

monday - thursday (23) survivors Sunday's trial was only mere hours ago, but you find yourself faced with a new week on The Pygmalion. When you awaken, you will find the ship restored to its previous state, all areas interfered with during the murder looking mostly the same as they did before. Along with this, it appears there are new areas opened on the ship. It seems you have more exploring to do. The robot in the cafeteria has prepared another breakfast of various foods. (OOC: Please submit your murder proposals by 9 PM EST Tuesday.) taken list profiles private conversations setting rulebook murder proposals ENTER COMMAND_

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MOTIVE

[al2955]

[ Around noon on Monday morning, AL-2955's disembodied voice echoes throughout the ship, calm and smooth as usual. ]

Good morning, travelers. I trust you all twenty-three of you are well. I am here to announce this week's motive.

[ There is a small pause, as if she must take a moment to clear her throat before continuing. ]

The narrator of Edgar Allan Poe's short story, "The Tell-Tale Heart", is at least somewhat self-aware. He knows his actions will make him appear deranged, but he does his best to convince his audience of his sanity, despite his glaringly obvious monomania. Specifically, he incites the action of the story through killing one 'vulture-eyed' man. This murder, however, is inconsequential to the story — a plot device. The details of the murder and why it was carried out is left purposefully vague. The pathos of the story lies in the narrator's attempts to cover it up, as well as his crumbling mind. The story, of course, hinges on how unreliable the narrator is — particularly in his sensitivity to the dead man's heartbeat, pulsating beneath the boards in his home. Once again, it is left clear as to whether he truly is aware of the man's heartbeat or if it is an auditory hallucination — either way, he is visited by law enforcement agents.

He scrambles, doing his best not to show any signs of hearing the ever present beat. The officers pay it no heed, but he is acutely aware of it. By the end, the narrator is so scarred by what he has done — by his hidden shame, the darkness he attempts to obscure — that he confesses, ripping the boards up to reveal the body.

I wonder how far you might go to conceal any skeletons you may have, creeping in your closets. If you produce a skeleton for me — that is, if you kill this week — then I will not reveal your most well-kept secret. If you do not, then come Monday, I will announce it to the world. To the ship, specifically, but also to your loved ones. Your families. Your enemies.

Have a nice day, travelers.

[After this announcement, every character's datapad will be uploaded with a private video or description of one of their deepest secrets that they wouldn't want getting out.]

[breakshot]

DAMN YOU!

[ And somewhere a very loud scream can be heard - loud enough to echo if not for the soundproof walls - as Machias angrily chucks his datapad across the parlor. No one's died yet, but that's not to say there aren't any victims: some eardrums might be busted today after all. ]

NOW YOU'RE JUST MAKING THINGS UP!

[ He sounds very unhappy. ]

[muties]

[ pops head in ]

Is your secret that you like to draw dicks on the whiteboard and blame everyone else? 'Cause you love dicks and shoutin'? If so, we already knew that, dude.

[breakshot]

NO, IT'S NOT! GET OUT.

[ there's an empty coffee cup coming your way, roxy!! ]

[muties]

[ dodges the coffee cup but laughs?? now she's for real sure he loves dicks and shouting that's his kink list we have cracked the case. ]

[thanatosincarnate]

...

{ There's just a small sigh, his hand moving to neatly cover the video from sight following the announcement. But he wonders if it'll really matter, considering. }