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. . .trash bin
| 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 |
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[but.]
You don't need to apologize for that at all. You've been very kind, the least I can do is return that kindness.
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It is a little hard in that... well, we don't have much to do down here, and a lot of our time is spent watching you all. So we -- so I've grown to learn bits and bits about the rest of you, even if you don't know me very well. [ His fault for stupidly dying so early on. ] And... Ha... I suppose it's too easy to start caring and worrying about you and them. It's hard, at times, to realize that it's all one-sided.
[ His smile turns a tad embarrassed. That might have sounded a bit creepy, and he's sorry for it. ]
There's nothing to lose by being kind, at this point. We are all, truly, on the same side now.
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In that case... It would be lovely to have the opportunity to get to know you in turn. Would you tell me about yourself? Then we could be on the same page, perhaps.