[kill 01] Huh.

[harborbutcher]

[I'm on a cruise ship. I know this from the impossibly small and yet hotel-like room I woke up in, overlooking the open water and the tiny little television playing nothing but what they want me to see. The room is a microcosm of a larger entity. It pretends to be that of an actual hotel room, and that annoys me. Dexter is sitting on the edge of

Comments

[text]

[screwsparkles]

No. You're on the Elegante. It's a cruise ship, and don't look forward to going home.

Ever.

[text]

[harborbutcher]

[A cruise ship. I can see that much.]

[He texts back, not needing to put up a front with verbal inflection:]

Why can't I look foreward to going home.

[text]

[screwsparkles]

We're all going to a place called the Golden Shore. And...I don't think we're going to be returned to our rightful places afterwards.

[text]

[harborbutcher]

[...]

Why are we going to the Golden Shore.

[text]

[screwsparkles]

The crew won't tell us.

You'll most likely never get a straight answer from the crew or the Captain if you ask them something.

[text]

[harborbutcher]

Why is that. What are they hiding.

[text]

[screwsparkles]

I'd give you all the answers if I could, but I can't. I don't know.

[harborbutcher]

[That's right. All she's given me are more questions.]

[text]

[screwsparkles]

...It's just the way things are here. Nobody knows enough.

[text]

[harborbutcher]

Except for the captain and crew. Correct?

[text]

[screwsparkles]

Correct.

As far as I know, at least. Don't think any of the passengers know more than the basics.

[text]

[harborbutcher]

[If I'm lucky one of the crew will fall under Harry's Code, and I can get this information from them that way.]

[Dexter stops texting. He has all he needs to know.]