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inbox @ comesailaway
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
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One step at a time.]
So they're just playing with us? Try to get us to do something and bring us back until we stop being "fun"?
[What's the point of all the luxury, then?]
Do you think this Jenny wrote those papers? The one who "won".
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but this revelation is slotting up perfectly with all the anxieties and unanswered questions she's been harboring for the past week, so. yeah, feels pretty accurate. time to continue panicking but at least have a narrowed outlet. )
Maybe. But what sort of something could this captain possibly want us to do that he can't do himself? This can't possibly just all be for entertainment.
( she's seen mankind subjugate others of the same species for a litany of reasons: labor, protection, the genetic markers in their blood that enable them to survive in inhospitable landscapes, and just the thrill of power. but for some perverse satisfaction watching them squirm like rats in a lab? that's a new and terrifying idea. )
And that's what it looks like. The handwritings look the same. Um.
The poem keeps referencing someone named Julia. Julia de Burgos, that part doesn't need much translating. Did you find anything else in the library? Anything with a name, or that matches the other writing?
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Someone else found the papers, but nothing else. There are 2 other papers with the same scent, but they're blank.
We need to find someone to translate the poem.
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How many people have you met on board this ship so far? I'd guess I've probably spoken to about... ten. Fifteen. No one spoke any language other than English. ( to her ears, at least. ) But there's supposed to be that party later this week. We could see if anyone there speaks Spanish, and would be willing to translate for us.
Who found the papers? And did either of you keep the blank ones?
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I talked to about 10 people. There's obviously something weird with the language, because I speak Japanese. It must mean something that this poem in the one thing that doesn't get translated.
[After 5 minutes, there's another text. Asking about how many people he met reminds him:]
Did you meet anyone named "Summer"? Because I met Jinx. Wonder why Friday noted those names in particular.
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( and tried her hardest to challenge everything he held dear in an attempt to get him to blow up the door to the bridge. it wasn't the most casual or pleasant meeting. )
But no one named Summer, and I'll take your word for meeting a Jinx. Guess we've got a bit more digging to do, and maybe we should make our own list of passengers.
( next, forgive her a moment of idle fascination, coming from a world where every language other than english seems to have fallen by the wayside, or been broken down into bastardized consonants to form a primitive slang. )
So you're from Japan?
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( sorry, how did they become such immediate allies while somehow managing to gloss over the finer points of who they were as people? )
...I guess I'm technically from Virginia, now. United States. 2149.
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Just technically?
[But man, that's a lot to take it. Somehow it's harder to wrap his head around "2149" than around real magic.]
Friday mentioned that "everyone always comes from scary places."
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Yeah, just technically.
I don't think she's wrong about that idea, though. So what's your horror story?"
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You?
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And as a fun bonus, the world's on fire.
( yanno, if she had any semblance of humor, light or dark, this would be the place to snort at their contrasting situations. )
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( best way to move on is accept her maybe-death wasn't for no reason. ready to die does not equal ready to give up on the world. but end of the day, he's not wrong. )
You that sure you don't have a future back home either?
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[But the few people he wanted to save made it. So it's fine. No regrets.]
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I might be too. I think I probably am.
( big same energy !!! )
And even if we weren't dead, it's not like we can leave anyway. But I never asked to be on this boat, and would like to get off.
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[He doesn't know WHAT he can do, exactly, but he's angry and absolutely sick of supernatural forces who think they can make decisions for him.]
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Me neither.
I'm confident we'll figure out what's happening here. I don't know when, but we will — or else die trying. Since that's apparently nothing new.
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[The captain's gonna regret bringing those angry kids with nothing to lose onboard.]
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that terrifies her. anything else is just... tormenting child's play. )
Right.
Can I ask how you died?
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[Murder-suicide by dynamite, in fact. Creatures like him are hard to kill.]
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so instead, playing by her own rules: clarke offers her supposed cause of death right back. )
Nuclear deathwave that irradiated all of Earth.
thatsroughbuddy.gif
Sorry. I can't imagine.
[His horror story is of a village, chosen specifically for being secluded and remote. It's hard to wrap his brain around a disaster of global scale.]
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( at least in line with the apology, she's seen the after effects of people being blown up enough to be able to imagine how absolutely horrid an experience that was. )
It doesn't matter anymore though, does it? We should focus.
I'll keep working on the poem. What are you looking for next? Summer?
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