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inbox @ comesailaway
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
( shiptalk | direct messages | group messages | action )
Found in the library, stuck inside a murder mystery.
Perfumed paper like the poem.
[Attached: This ominous exchange, in familiar handwriting(s)]
Perfumed paper like the poem.
[Attached: This ominous exchange, in familiar handwriting(s)]
No.
But the first day I got here I asked Friday what's going on. She said she'll tell me if I "make it."
But the first day I got here I asked Friday what's going on. She said she'll tell me if I "make it."
[He'll wait a little for her to elaborate, and then - ]
That's all she said. And that "it's not an end."
What do you know?
That's all she said. And that "it's not an end."
What do you know?
( the following is a disjointed string of texts. stream of consciousness actualized through texts, still not entirely sure what the end result here is going to be. but struck by the consistent verbiage, and digging in her teeth like a dog to a bone. )
Friday told me we weren't the first set of people brought here. That we've all been brought here by the captain, but that he wasn't happy with how the last time went. That they weren't fun, and didn't last very long.
I tried to ask if that meant they were all dead, but all she told me was: "some of them really did get to leave". And that it "won't be a trick". But it would always be alone.
( it's a trick, it won't be a trick. )
And she told me it was almost impossible to die here permanently.
( it's not an end. )
But some people still managed it. That everyone except Jenny was gone forever. That she'd managed to leave, but promised to come back some day to visit.
Friday told me we weren't the first set of people brought here. That we've all been brought here by the captain, but that he wasn't happy with how the last time went. That they weren't fun, and didn't last very long.
I tried to ask if that meant they were all dead, but all she told me was: "some of them really did get to leave". And that it "won't be a trick". But it would always be alone.
( it's a trick, it won't be a trick. )
And she told me it was almost impossible to die here permanently.
( it's not an end. )
But some people still managed it. That everyone except Jenny was gone forever. That she'd managed to leave, but promised to come back some day to visit.
[With each text, the alarm bells ring louder in his head. Impossible to die here permanently. What would have happened if he drowned back then? Would he wake up in his cabin again, his efforts reduced to nothing once more? If only some of the passengers got to leave, what happened to the others? What does it mean about the ghosts, and how much of what Friday says can they really trust -
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".
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".
( i don't know, i don't know, i don't know — because despite the easy and immediate line drawn between bullet points here, they're still just guesses. colored by past experiences and underscored by a lack of trust for everything that comes out of friday's non-existent mouth or desk drawer.
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?
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?
I thought the first line looks like the words we found in the disk. Summer, Jinx.
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.
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.
You're right, that should be the next step.
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?
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?
Flynn found the papers. Blond guy, white armor. Kept the papers as far as I know, but he couldn't understand the poem either.
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.
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.
I've met him.
( 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?
( 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?
[Psh, stuff like "what year you're from" is meaningless when looking for allies. What REALLY brings people together is a tendency to stick their nose where it doesn't belong and willingness to hide the bodies when necessary.]
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."
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."
( very true! she hadn't gone looking for a resume, birth certificat, and cover letter when seeking out other disgruntled renegades here — just a vibe check and the keen desire to not sit around twiddling their thumbs. natsuno passed that effortlessly the second he jumped off the deck, but strings of curiosity still hang low enough to be tugged, and sometimes you need a break from staring at perfumed spanish letters until your eyes bleed. )
Yeah, just technically.
I don't think she's wrong about that idea, though. So what's your horror story?"
Yeah, just technically.
I don't think she's wrong about that idea, though. So what's your horror story?"
Sounds like we cut our losses back there. Not much to look forward to in the future.
I... don't know. Some of my friends might have survived. I just wish I could know for sure.
( 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?
( 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?
I'm dead.
[But the few people he wanted to save made it. So it's fine. No regrets.]
[But the few people he wanted to save made it. So it's fine. No regrets.]
Same. So whatever they're really planning, I'm not just going to sit around and take it.
[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.]
[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.]
( again — big same energy!! the anger of others fuels clarke more than she'd like to admit, and in this particular instance just a hint of displeasure about their circumstances is enough to latch onto an ally and stoke the flames in their chest to match the heat her own gives off. )
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.
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.
Right. I'm not afraid of them, or dying.
[The captain's gonna regret bringing those angry kids with nothing to lose onboard.]
[The captain's gonna regret bringing those angry kids with nothing to lose onboard.]
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