Post
by Windguaerd » Sat Mar 14, 2009 9:55 am
Sheri Tater: Yes?
Noticiero: I... I'm sorry.
Sheri Tater: Didn't she want to come with you?
You tell her what happened to Aime. Sheri's eyes widen.
Sheri Tater: What are you saying? She has insurance...
Noticiero: They're controlling her... As far as we know she will be reclaimed by them.
Her normally green eyes, now red, quickly fills with grief.
Sheri Tater: She... is alive? We have to do something! I...
Then she gasps, pressing her hands against her heart trying to withhold her emotions as she realizes saving Aime would be unrealistic.
Noticiero: I have something for you.
Sheri Tater: What is it?
She browses through the text, smiles sadly and nods in thanks.
Sheri Tater: ...
Have you read it?
Noticiero: No, I haven't.
Sheri Tater: Thank you... Please... leave me now.
I did read her journal:
Last Entry of Aime's Journal
NODROP UNIQUE
Quality level: 1
Charges: 1 (Splitable)
Description:
Tuesday
I saw an odd light phenomenon in the sky tonight. Particles were emitting from the ground, much resembling light signals I have noticed with some insect species. I have to find it's origin.
Wednesday
Following the light turned out to be a huge mistake. I'm onboard a huge alien mother ship with no memory of how I got here.
They are keeping me as a prisoner... Yet I get to keep my belongings. My wrist intercom is not working, I'm guessing they have some kind of signal interceptor technology.
I can walk around freely, so going to take right turns from now on and see if I can find a way out.
My memory is getting worse and worse, I try to write whenever I can, though there is no way to tell the time in this place.
The ship is huge, I have seen many floors now, I must have been here for a long time because I don't get lost anymore.
Recently I saw a man on the ship. I believe I know his face, but I can't place him. I wonder how he got here...
Thoughts I don't recognize, are infesting my brain. I'm starting to accept these thoughts as a part of me. How long have I been here?
My memory is getting better, but these new memories are hard to separate from dreams.
A cunning plan is forming.
For some reason I believe in it. It's the right thing to do. I don't recognize myself, yet I feel more loved than ever.
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