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WHO: Shaw and open
WHERE: Various parts of the ship
WHEN: December 22
WHAT: Getting her bearings, trying not to kill people, reuniting with a ghost
WARNINGS: There will be references to psychological torture and reality warping via immersion simulation and mentions of suicide.
[ ooc: Will match format. ]
open: hallway to the promenade
The numbers never stop. That was the first thing she learned when she joined the Program. That's only natural, isn't it? Someone, somewhere, will always be plotting something. Of course their numbers keep coming. They just don't know that they're being watched. For a little while, the all-seeing eye went away for a side project known as self preservation. A fight for her life, as Root put it. Whether she's alive or not is still something Shaw hasn't decided, but what she does know is this: she is back. And it's a fortunate thing too, because Shaw wouldn't have known what to do with herself if The Machine shut down for good.
Things seemed to be going swimmingly this morning. The Machine gave her a number. Shaw picked up her gun, took her dog, and went out to investigate.
Now she's here.
No guns, no dog, just strange faces saying strange things, like 'spaceship' and 'anomaly' and other kinds of nonsense. Shaw might've knocked a few of them around when she first stepped out of the glass tube, but nothing that would leave a permanent mark. Probably. There are words she does understand, like 'brig' and 'airlock,' and while she's had plenty of Samaritan's bullshit, maybe she's curious about this next new challenge that she reins it in just enough to find out more. Because this has to be Samaritan, right? A elaborate simulation with some sort of design. The alternative is too ridiculous to entertain.
She sits through 'orientation' with a disgruntled frown. By the time a crewman shows up to hand her a duffle bag, her face reflects exactly how unamused she is by these shenanigans. He tries to lead her out to the promenade but doesn't get very far. She grabs him by the collar and shoves him against the wall of the ship's corridor.
"What's this really about? You know you can't break me. You want The Machine, you find another way."
If this is Samaritan, it'll have to learn eventually how futile this charade is.
open: hallways around the ship
The poor schmuck didn't know anything, or pretended not to. Shaw didn't think it would be so easy to get answers anyway. In any case, the threat of being jettisoned from the airlock, while amusing, doesn't sound all that great for the short term. Maybe she'll arrange for it when it seems like the only way to end it. Putting a bullet through her head is an option too, now that she's got her weapons back. Bear too, which was a nice touch, even for Samaritan.
She's got to hand it to the AI, this is one helluva sim, if it is one.
"I guess we can play along, hm?" she says to Bear, who perks up as she opens the doors to her chambers. "Let's see what they've got."
She tucks her weapons under her leather jacket and lets the dog sniff ahead unleashed. She'll follow his lead for now.
[ ooc: Feel free to encounter the dog first. He's a fairly large one (70 lb Belgian Malnois). He's a well trained military dog, so he's not going to attack without a command or an obvious threat. ]
closed: Root
[ Bear's onto something. He catches some scent, lets off a yelp (which is weird -- he sounds a little too emotional for a normal scouting mission) and takes off down the corridor. Shaw dashes after him, whizzing by bewildered looking bystanders so she can keep up.
He disappears around the corner. She catches up a few seconds later and sees an opening to a sterile looking room beyond. She draws her Beretta and slides up to the door frame. Her finger is on the trigger, ready. She peers into the room, scanning for Bear. ]
WHERE: Various parts of the ship
WHEN: December 22
WHAT: Getting her bearings, trying not to kill people, reuniting with a ghost
WARNINGS: There will be references to psychological torture and reality warping via immersion simulation and mentions of suicide.
[ ooc: Will match format. ]
open: hallway to the promenade
The numbers never stop. That was the first thing she learned when she joined the Program. That's only natural, isn't it? Someone, somewhere, will always be plotting something. Of course their numbers keep coming. They just don't know that they're being watched. For a little while, the all-seeing eye went away for a side project known as self preservation. A fight for her life, as Root put it. Whether she's alive or not is still something Shaw hasn't decided, but what she does know is this: she is back. And it's a fortunate thing too, because Shaw wouldn't have known what to do with herself if The Machine shut down for good.
Things seemed to be going swimmingly this morning. The Machine gave her a number. Shaw picked up her gun, took her dog, and went out to investigate.
Now she's here.
No guns, no dog, just strange faces saying strange things, like 'spaceship' and 'anomaly' and other kinds of nonsense. Shaw might've knocked a few of them around when she first stepped out of the glass tube, but nothing that would leave a permanent mark. Probably. There are words she does understand, like 'brig' and 'airlock,' and while she's had plenty of Samaritan's bullshit, maybe she's curious about this next new challenge that she reins it in just enough to find out more. Because this has to be Samaritan, right? A elaborate simulation with some sort of design. The alternative is too ridiculous to entertain.
She sits through 'orientation' with a disgruntled frown. By the time a crewman shows up to hand her a duffle bag, her face reflects exactly how unamused she is by these shenanigans. He tries to lead her out to the promenade but doesn't get very far. She grabs him by the collar and shoves him against the wall of the ship's corridor.
"What's this really about? You know you can't break me. You want The Machine, you find another way."
If this is Samaritan, it'll have to learn eventually how futile this charade is.
open: hallways around the ship
The poor schmuck didn't know anything, or pretended not to. Shaw didn't think it would be so easy to get answers anyway. In any case, the threat of being jettisoned from the airlock, while amusing, doesn't sound all that great for the short term. Maybe she'll arrange for it when it seems like the only way to end it. Putting a bullet through her head is an option too, now that she's got her weapons back. Bear too, which was a nice touch, even for Samaritan.
She's got to hand it to the AI, this is one helluva sim, if it is one.
"I guess we can play along, hm?" she says to Bear, who perks up as she opens the doors to her chambers. "Let's see what they've got."
She tucks her weapons under her leather jacket and lets the dog sniff ahead unleashed. She'll follow his lead for now.
[ ooc: Feel free to encounter the dog first. He's a fairly large one (70 lb Belgian Malnois). He's a well trained military dog, so he's not going to attack without a command or an obvious threat. ]
closed: Root
[ Bear's onto something. He catches some scent, lets off a yelp (which is weird -- he sounds a little too emotional for a normal scouting mission) and takes off down the corridor. Shaw dashes after him, whizzing by bewildered looking bystanders so she can keep up.
He disappears around the corner. She catches up a few seconds later and sees an opening to a sterile looking room beyond. She draws her Beretta and slides up to the door frame. Her finger is on the trigger, ready. She peers into the room, scanning for Bear. ]
sorry for the delay!
She walks through the corridors with a watchful eye, trying to pick up any hint of the real game at hand. She loses sight of Bear around the corner, but only for a second. He's sniffing at someone, apparently more out of curiosity than caution. Shaw doesn't let her guard down, though. She pauses a few feet away. ]
Bear.
[ The dog cocks his head at her and trots back to her side. She studies the kid carefully. She won't return the greeting, but she doesn't pull her gun either, at least. ]
Who are you?
dw about it holidays kicked my ass too
I am Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill.
[He pauses, as he remembers that for some reason his name seems to be difficult for humans. He'll never understand why, but communication is what's important here, so he'll overlook it.]
You may call me Aximili. I was brought to this ship, as you were. [He's not going to pretend he doesn't suspect it was on purpose.] We are on the same side.
<3
She narrows her eyes dubiously. ]
... Which side is that?
no subject
The side that distrusts whoever is responsible for us being here.
no subject
And do you know anything about that?
no subject
But I do know that none of us is here willingly, and any civilization that would take to space with engines this prone to error is extremely irresponsible at best.
[Yes, he always talks like this.]
no subject
[ She stares at him for a minute. Is this guy for real? Really, this is the thought that goes through Shaw's mind right now. He's like a weird younger, spacey version of Finch, as if Samaritan decided to do a mock up of the guy and create someone who might say similar things as he would. Though in the case of Finch, he would talk about ASIs, not spaceships. ]
If this really is an error, that's more than irresponsible. [ It's infuriating. Shaw's fingers twitch a little. (Un?)fortunately, she's not armed with anything right now. ]
Who's in charge, here?