There is the definite sound of wind blowing heavily around you, but you have no way of telling what's going on. You're on some sort of hammock in a rather spartan wooden room. Several other hammocks surround you, though they're all empty. There are sounds of boots above, no sound coming from below. Outside a few portholes is the sight of clouds, but, seeing as you're on your back, its sky above you.
You can't remember anything at all. Your name, where you come from, where you are. But these thoughts still come with words, so perhaps not all is lost. You're dressed simply enough in a cotton shirt and some slacks with boots on your feet. Your hair has been cut to your scalp, so you can't even tell the color. At least you don't appear to be badly harmed.
I get up and glance around the room, trying to find some identifying items. Finding none, I try and take a better look out the porthole. I run my fingers through my hair, maybe out of habit, and let out a sigh of confusion. My scalp is bald, which seems even more confusing.
"I'm bald?" I say outloud, as if it's something unexpected, but to be honest I have no idea.
"What's going on?" I wonder out loud.
Outside the porthole, when you can finally get there, is... Sky. That is, sky, everywhere. Even down. Ground, if there is any, is out of sight at such an extreme angle.
There's a few seconds before anyone comes down. And when someone does, it's a tall, dark man wearing a frock coat and heavy boots with some dark gray pants. He actually wears an eye patch over one eye, a scar going across his eye underneath it, barely visible around the patch. The man nods to you.
The man chuckles heartily at the flood of questions, "You should wait for one answer at a time. You're on my ship, first and foremost, the Red Queen. We're... En route. You're not dreaming, of course."
"Nope, clean slate"~says rapping the side of his noggin "So am I part of your crew? What do I do? What's this place called, where boats sail in the sky?"
The man nods, "That's what I thought. You aren't part of the crew. We picked you up on our last raid. You were a prisoner, from what we could tell. And where else would a boat sail?"
"For some reason, water comes to mind? Prisoner, eh? I don't remember doing anything. Can you tell me how you picked me up? who were my captors? where are they now? Did they tell you my name?:
The man moves to sit on the bed, shaking his head. "If you find that much water, let me know."
Then he looks up, "You were in a prison of some sort. We thought it was just for normal citizens, but there were a few political prisoners in there. We broke in, simply for spite. You had a few more guards than usual, so we took you. As for your captors... The guards are dead, but who knows if they were the ones that captured you originally."
"So, I guess I'm important then" ~ says quietly, giving a confident smirk at the prospect. "And I guess thanks for breaking me out. I guess you can drop me off after the raid"
"Then don't expect any help from me. The prospect of going from one prison to another isn't very appealing"~ says and then flops back down on a hammock.
The man shrugs and stretches. "I didn't really expect you to help in the slightest. Actually, the only reason I'm here is to check on you, and see if you actually remembered anything."
You can't remember anything at all. Your name, where you come from, where you are. But these thoughts still come with words, so perhaps not all is lost. You're dressed simply enough in a cotton shirt and some slacks with boots on your feet. Your hair has been cut to your scalp, so you can't even tell the color. At least you don't appear to be badly harmed.
My helpdesk should you need me.
"I'm bald?" I say outloud, as if it's something unexpected, but to be honest I have no idea.
"What's going on?" I wonder out loud.
Where am I?
Who am I?
There's a few seconds before anyone comes down. And when someone does, it's a tall, dark man wearing a frock coat and heavy boots with some dark gray pants. He actually wears an eye patch over one eye, a scar going across his eye underneath it, barely visible around the patch. The man nods to you.
"Finally awake?"
My helpdesk should you need me.
My helpdesk should you need me.
My helpdesk should you need me.
My helpdesk should you need me.
My helpdesk should you need me.
Then he looks up, "You were in a prison of some sort. We thought it was just for normal citizens, but there were a few political prisoners in there. We broke in, simply for spite. You had a few more guards than usual, so we took you. As for your captors... The guards are dead, but who knows if they were the ones that captured you originally."
My helpdesk should you need me.
My helpdesk should you need me.
I knew it.
"Then don't expect any help from me. The prospect of going from one prison to another isn't very appealing"~ says and then flops back down on a hammock.
My helpdesk should you need me.
My helpdesk should you need me.
My helpdesk should you need me.
My helpdesk should you need me.
~glances around, trying to find any way out. He then closes his eyes and tries to will himself out of the room.
My helpdesk should you need me.