![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trash bin PART TWO
| the pygmalion. . . ???  OPENING PROGRAM . . . . . . . . . _PROGRAM CRASHED _PROGRAM REBOOT? >N >SCAN PROGRAM . . . _PROGRAM CRASHED . . . >EMERGENCY LEVEL . . . >EMERGENCY LEVEL . . . _EMERGENCY LEVEL LOADING LOADING. . . LOADING. . . LOADING TEXTURE-NIGHT-SKY, TEXTURE-FULL-MOON, TEXTURE-DIRT-PATH, TEXTURE-CAMPFIRE LOADING SOUND-CRICKETS, SOUND-GRAVEL, SOUND-WIND, SOUND-FIRE-CRACKLING UPLOADING USER UPLOADING USER UPLOADING USER UPLOAD SUCCESSFUL TRASH BIN It feels more like an electrical zap than dying. Dying might feel a little bit more like falling asleep, but this is harder, more painful. If you've ever been electrocuted, the feeling might seem familiar; the discovery you make when you open your eyes, too, is likely very familiar. It's the night sky. Stars twinkle, a fire cracks warmly. You sit up and observe the surrounding area, and it's like you've woken up in some sort of canyon. The fire burns brightly, the moon shines beautifully, the crickets sing, and it is ... peaceful. Mostly. You know you're dead. This must be, then, the after life? Or something like it, at least. The horizon stretches on forever, the dirt and gravel seemingly endless. The moon is so big and bright, it's like you could reach out and touch her. There's a shed not too far from the fire, only but a stone's throw away, as if someone else might have made it, and then went inside it. Approaching it, you can see the light glowing inside it through the dusty windows that are littered with fingerprints. A computer screen, so large and wide that it's baffling, sits, waiting. Turning knob reveals that the shed is unlocked, and stepping inside... it doesn't feel any different from the outside. A chair sits in the center of the room, a strange contraption strapped to the head of it. It looks like it would lower itself upon the head of whoever dares to sit on it, and wires from it's bottom curl up towards the machines attached to the screen. Several smaller desktop screens sit beneath the giant monitor. They, too, are hooked up to the machines scattered around the room, to the ominous one perched on top of the medical chair, and they blink, as if fighting to stay alive without use. Pressing the giant monitor on, it lights up, and displays, strangely enough... a security camera feed. You push the button. It switches to another room. Again, another room. Again, another room. So on and forth. You peeping tom! But no one can blame you, in the end. You might as well digitally haunt the rest of the ship until the game ends, and AL-2955 can clean out the trash bin. ...Right? rule book taken characters information cards |
no subject
She also programmed me remotely to run the same game on the Nuwa just as a precaution. When it became clear after no one on board was infected, I ended it.
no subject
[And the game functions to keep them from doing that. At least until they're found out, and then they don't give a shit anymore.]
Any idea of how many are on Pygmalion? So far three are dead, and I guess if this insane plan works then a fourth will be found.
no subject
They tend to travel in packs of four or five. At this point, I think the phrase 'hope for the best, prepare for the worst' applies here. And if the plan doesn't work, then River may just go through with the purge. It's not just the potential hosts we need to be concerned about - there's things on board the Pygmalion that absolutely cannot fall into Souvlaki hands, even if it means starting the Project completely from scratch.
no subject
[Because seriously, how many times did she warn him about turrets?? Too many!! And now she'll get to be smug over his grave about it.]
Urgh okay look, I know we're running out of time so I'll drop the subject. My question is this: other than relaying the message, is there anything we can do to help Pygmalion? I know Perkins gave us this switch to trying turning on to do a resync. To what extent can we be of use?
no subject
You seem to think of the Furry Passing server being like a prision. Have you tried considering it instead as a sanctuary? It's the one place on the ship where all residents are guaranteed to be free of infection and where the Souvlaki can't listen in...provided you don't contact them, of course. As for a resync, you're going to need a lot more power to stabilize it for more than a few minutes at a time. The only way to get it might be to...
...hmm, no, I can't make that decision for you. But once this week's over - and provided you all haven't been purged - you should spend a little more time in those idealized locations. They may be holding more secrets than it seems.
no subject
But fine, we'll give it a deeper look. One last thing - tell Fahrenheit not to get complacent. She needs to stay alive in case there's no way for us to get back into proper bodies again.
no subject
[The world lurches around Hancock as a horrible screeching fills the air. Lin gives him a short nod.]
Got it. Though I don't exactly think she needs my reminder to take care of herself, does she? Until next time, Hancock.
[When Hancock next looks around, he'll find himself back in the Pygmalion's graveyard.]