theairlock | Welcome to the Program

Entry tags:

!round 1,
intro log

Welcome to the Program

Good Morning, Champions. In the interest of maintaining healthy sleep patterns, a day/night cycle is in effect. Your presence is expected in the cafeteria in exactly one hour.

[The voice comes through not a large speaker, but through the device that's attached to each Champion's arm. Further investigation of the features of the device will reveal a list of profiles, a mini-map, and a list of rules. The hallways are shiny white and silver, with running lights along the floor and lights on the ceiling, and at the junction of the hallways is a sign with a knife and fork icon and an arrow pointing down the hall.

Welcome to the Excellence Program, Champions. Time to get to know your teammates.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Just gonna slide on over and help her with the P.I.P.

You know, incorrectly assuming that technology literacy is the issue here.]

Edited (nooooooot the right icon for this situation) 2017-02-12 23:45 (UTC)

[ She suppresses a flinch when she approaches, and then her apprehension gets immediately replaced with more confusion. ]

We cannot remove them, [ she says, because clearly she's trying... to take it off? ] Hast thou not tried?

Oh, no, that isn't it. See, look, the rules are here.

[That sure is a bunch of letters. They probably make up words.]

...

[Xander knows a peasant girl when he sees one, and when he sees the two girls talking he carefully leans over to whisper]

She very well might be illiterate. You may have to explain them to her.

[There's no judgement, it is what it is]

Oh.

[It's a quiet response. Yes, that would explain everything, wouldn't it?]

Thank you.

[And back to Thomasin, and back to normal volume:]

I can read them to you if you want. Or just the ones that come up, for now.

[ She ducks her head, both to nod at both statements and to look a little embarrassed. Ricky doesn't seem significantly older than her, and though she speaks strangely, so does everyone else here. But she can read, and presumably write. Is Thomasin the only one who does not know her letters? ]

There was no time to teach me. Can all of you, then? [ But the girl has made an offer it would be stupid to refuse or treat lightly, so she directs her next statement just to her. ] If you would, I should be grateful. Which "come up"?

[ She even switched pronouns! ]

[Okay, maybe that particular slang phrase isn't as universal as she thought.]

Well, Miss Farron mentioned rule number seven, and most of us have a problem with that one. [She points to the rule on the screen.] "A 'culprit' who murders a fellow Champion will be allowed to leave the space station and return home, provided that they escape detection by their peers."

What?

[ She blanches, looking at her wrist like that's the offending party here. ]

To what end would they set it? [ Of course, given her mindset, the answer comes almost immediately after she asks the question. ] Temptation.

[Ricky's mindset is totally different, but that sounds about right nevertheless. She nods.]

And the first rule says there isn't a time limit for how long we'll be here. They're waiting for someone to fall for it.

[ She nods herself, bobbing her head quickly. ]

What are the others? Seek they to break every commandment, or only to -- to make murderers of us?

Most of them aren't like that.

[She goes ahead and reads out rules two through six, with there being little point in copypasting the whole thing here.]

Rule number 6-A. Proper maintenance of the life-support systems and other functions of... um, basically, this one says don't go around breaking things.

[She already read rule seven, so she finishes up with eight and nine.]

They'd have us keep their ship whole whilst they conspire to this? [ she says suddenly before Ricky can finish up, but then goes quiet in a way that makes it clear she wants her to go on instead. ]

I... thank you for that. 'Tis no easier to read out evil than to hear it. [ She hesitates. ] What is your name?

Well, that one actually makes sense. There's a lot that could go wrong for us if we damage the ship's systems.

[And onward to introductions...]

I'm Frederica Irving. And you're Thomasin, right? This has everyone's names on it, too.

Yes -- thank you, Frederica. [ She thinks again. ] Um, wouldst show me where they are?

[ The names on the profiles, that is. She realizes all at once how many favors she's already gotten from this girl ~~with a similarly old-fashioned name.~~ ]

I'll take no more of your time after.

Edited 2017-02-15 21:29 (UTC)

Oh, no, it's okay. See, look here.

[You just doohickey the thingamajig...]

This one is a map of the area. That might be more useful to you right now.

[...and gizmo the widget.]

And here are the profiles.

[ Thomasin immediately flicks through to her own image and pores over the words -- and there, right under her face, is the same series of letters she saw on it when she first woke up. The T is easy enough to remember. ]

What a marvelous device.

[ She means marvelous as in worthy of marvel rather than good, though there's still a slight hint of satisfaction in her face that wasn't there before. She's never seen her own name written before. ]

Thomasin. Champion Heretic. Age 15, height...

[ The hand underneath her PIP curls into a fist, and she winces. ]

I've heard tell of that. ... Is there more?

Species is human. Hometown is Salem Salem Plantation, Massachusetts Bay Colony. Occupation: daughter. Likes pretty things, family, and... peekaboo? Dislikes being ignored and the woods. Traits: pious, stubborn.

Are there any others you'd like to hear?

[ Why do they have to call her out like this... but at peekaboo, her heart jumps into her throat. ]

A game for babes. [ She supplies it quickly, assuming Ricky is confused as to what it is. ] No, I -- 'tis better to know them by their actions and words. I've no desire to learn of folk before I meet them.

[Ricky... won't ask. ~~Wouldn't want to create a time paradox after all.~~]

That's probably for the best. A lot of people have been complaining that theirs are wrong, anyway.