50. [Video, not that you'll see anything.]
[Maybe Priscilla hit the wrong button, or maybe she just really likes the sight of her ceiling... but that's what you see. An ocean of shadowy white ceiling, and the edge of her bedframe. The screen shakes a little when she moves.]
It's funny. I went back through the archives on this thing today, and I noticed I've done forty-nine posts. Which I guess makes this number fifty. So I thought I should say something special, or at least interesting, but...
...I can't really think of anything.
[Quiet. The room itself is quiet, and so is her voice - soft and low, and lacking its normal energy. That's a little more common these days.]
For a while, I thought... wouldn't it be nice if... tomorrow everyone woke up back home? But then I thought, maybe it wouldn't. Because some people are dead at home, or about to be dead. And some people are... worse than that. So maybe it's best if not everyone goes. But then I thought, it might be nice if this were all a dream - even the bad parts, and the things we learn about where we would be if we weren't here. Maybe all of those things aren't true, and really we're having normal lives. Maybe Senji is still a policeman. And I'm still lying in that bed at the Organization's training dorms.
Well. I thought of it, anyway.
Except... if this is dream, maybe none of you are real? Or if it's one of your dreams, maybe it's me who isn't real. I think some of us would be better off not-real. I mean. I think some people would be better off if some of us were not real? I... It's a little... too much to think about.
[She's quiet again, for a long time. Hugging her knees, probably, peeking over the top of them.]
...my hair is getting too long again. And... Komui? I want to meet a robot!
[A barely audible sigh.]
Senji? Can you take me on that motor-thing? I want to... feel the wind. Besides, I have to take care of that thing anyway. And I don't feel like being alone.
It's funny. I went back through the archives on this thing today, and I noticed I've done forty-nine posts. Which I guess makes this number fifty. So I thought I should say something special, or at least interesting, but...
...I can't really think of anything.
[Quiet. The room itself is quiet, and so is her voice - soft and low, and lacking its normal energy. That's a little more common these days.]
For a while, I thought... wouldn't it be nice if... tomorrow everyone woke up back home? But then I thought, maybe it wouldn't. Because some people are dead at home, or about to be dead. And some people are... worse than that. So maybe it's best if not everyone goes. But then I thought, it might be nice if this were all a dream - even the bad parts, and the things we learn about where we would be if we weren't here. Maybe all of those things aren't true, and really we're having normal lives. Maybe Senji is still a policeman. And I'm still lying in that bed at the Organization's training dorms.
Well. I thought of it, anyway.
Except... if this is dream, maybe none of you are real? Or if it's one of your dreams, maybe it's me who isn't real. I think some of us would be better off not-real. I mean. I think some people would be better off if some of us were not real? I... It's a little... too much to think about.
[She's quiet again, for a long time. Hugging her knees, probably, peeking over the top of them.]
...my hair is getting too long again. And... Komui? I want to meet a robot!
[A barely audible sigh.]
Senji? Can you take me on that motor-thing? I want to... feel the wind. Besides, I have to take care of that thing anyway. And I don't feel like being alone.