The Computer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thecomputer) wrote2014-11-12 07:35 am
thecomputer) wrote2014-11-12 07:35 am
Entry tags:
DEAD 03
[Welcome, Zolf!]
[You regain consciousness in a waiting room of some sort. Something is clearly odd - your entire body is slightly transparent, and everything you were carrying with you aside from your clothes is gone. On the plus side, you seem to be impervious to all harm.]
[There is an end table with two stacks of papers. One is a large area to write in (there is a small assortment of pens next to this), and the other all bear the same message:]
Congratulations! You have died.
Please wait in this area until such time as the exercise is terminated. At that time, you will be transferred to your appropriate afterlife. If you were assigned a Communist role, rest easy knowing that any ultimatum given as part of your motivation was false.
If you have any questions, please shout them into the air, and a representative will get back to you within 5-100,000 business days. If you have any final messages for the living, please write them on form B and submit it into the slot in the south wall. Delivery is not guaranteed.
[Sure enough, there’s a slot. In addition, a hallway connects this room with a much larger room, not unlike a movie theatre. A large screen on the far wall shows various events back in the facility as they unfold in real time. A side alcove provides slightly transparent popcorn and a water cooler, although hunger, thirst and exhaustion don’t seem to exist here.]
[You regain consciousness in a waiting room of some sort. Something is clearly odd - your entire body is slightly transparent, and everything you were carrying with you aside from your clothes is gone. On the plus side, you seem to be impervious to all harm.]
[There is an end table with two stacks of papers. One is a large area to write in (there is a small assortment of pens next to this), and the other all bear the same message:]
Congratulations! You have died.
Please wait in this area until such time as the exercise is terminated. At that time, you will be transferred to your appropriate afterlife. If you were assigned a Communist role, rest easy knowing that any ultimatum given as part of your motivation was false.
If you have any questions, please shout them into the air, and a representative will get back to you within 5-100,000 business days. If you have any final messages for the living, please write them on form B and submit it into the slot in the south wall. Delivery is not guaranteed.
[Sure enough, there’s a slot. In addition, a hallway connects this room with a much larger room, not unlike a movie theatre. A large screen on the far wall shows various events back in the facility as they unfold in real time. A side alcove provides slightly transparent popcorn and a water cooler, although hunger, thirst and exhaustion don’t seem to exist here.]
no subject
But the fact is that he isn't a decent person and so he won't, and he doesn't, and he isn't about to.
Maybe it'll bother him later; it's sort of hard to say what will and what won't. Maybe it'll hit him well after the fact, now that things for the time being have quite simply stopped along with the rest of his life; maybe it'll be like last night, where he was fine until the door locked and then he...wasn't, and he's never going to express exactly how he wasn't both because it's stupid and because he's not sure there's a way to express that in the first place.
There are still...a few things to get out there; they're probably going to lead to fights, but.]
...It wasn't you.
[And that wasn't quite what he meant, but it's a start.]
You didn't do anything, or not do anything, to make me go off the rails like that. I know you would have given me pretty much anything I asked for if I'd come to you about it; whether you would have let me run off to go play soldier again or not isn't the point.
no subject
It's not like his life had been going anywhere at all before meeting Kimbley. One hundred thirty years alone in a small room with no exit and no escape with nothing but his own thoughts meant that Greed was never going to truly break free, even when the array cracked.]
I should have left you to die.
[Kimbley might have been able take out a few of those soldiers, but just one clean shot and it would have been over and Greed's gang would still have gotten away from the lab. Maybe Greed would still be in Dublith with his gang now, but probably not.]
no subject
[There's actually nothing bitter behind it, either, nor is there anything self-deprecating; it's just the way it is.]
no subject
You're a worthless piece of shit.
At least you being dead has spared you doing to that military man what you did to me.
no subject
Maybe you'll keep that shit in mind from now on, instead of trying to give me all this "you aren't alone here", "I'll just stay with you, we don't have to say anything" sympathetic bullshit.
[And that is going to be the end of it, if you don't mind; he will be rather abruptly taking his leave by storming right the fuck out.]