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(Untitled)
Sometimes it's almost too much.
For all I know, logically, which memories are mine - I don't feel them. I don't know them. I still wake up spinning through a thousand possibilities at once. Expecting to hear my voice completely differently.
There are days when it even hurts. Trying to decipher where the me is in all this... what connections I can ( Read more... ) -
Day Twelve
Still working things out. It's still hard. No matter the logic, there's still 'no I' in my memory, just all the possibilities ( Read more... ) -
Day One
Cortana told me to write a diary. She thinks it'll help me get my memories in order ( Read more... ) -
((OOC: Quick details on recent plot))
((As the actual journal posting on this saga has gone by the wayside, a quick catchup for now, hopefully to be written up properly later ( Read more... ) -
Another Tour
No sign of Kelly. No sign of a way back to the ship. The only way to move on, the teleport network ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
The target seemed obvious. The bridge. Those arrows were an omen, as far as John was concerned. Time to get moving.
Around him, in the corridors, the sounds of squeaking and shuffling.
The bridge, not too hard to find. ( In its centre, looking out at the stars (that question was answered, then...) ) -
Back To Square One
What had just happened? Nobodies and strange visions... it was a while before anyone knew what to say and the tense silence was broken. Dodging the issue, it felt like, changing the subject, not wanting to think about what could have happened -
"So what are we meant to do with cardsJohn held one out, looked at it for a moment, looked at the console ( Read more... )