- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
Now my countdown is back. Here are all the messages I have seen on the site.
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY
black beach, nothing but sand and darkness. Sometimes, in the distance, dry lightning: in the flash I see pieces of the wreck around me, the spars and rigging of my brain
-hold on. hold on. Steady up. Get a grip, girl. You have to fight through this.
Take a deep breath.
Survival Key #3: How Badly Are You Hurt?
Mentally, subject is confused and disoriented.
I keep slipping in and out of consciousness.
Physically, subject is paralyzed but moving.
Okay.
What the hell does THAT mean?
Held down: yes. As if strapped to a table. Could I be in traction in some sick bay, some hospital ward?
Not necessarily one of ours.
But at the same time, parts of me being moved around, emptied out. As if under general anaesthetic, dimly conscious, half-aware as the surgeon cuts off my feet and sews them onto my shoulders. She opens my head with a medical hammer and sand spills out.
I WANT TO DIE I WANT TO-
-no.
never that.
survive evade reveal escape. That is all you know, or need to know.
On, off. On, off.
On off on off on off
on off on off on off
on off on off on off
off on off on off on
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off
Nobody here.
Nobody calling.
Nobody's going to come
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY
Tricky. Can't seem to focus. Need to start on the easy ones, like "up". Move on to the compass later.
Up.
Up.
...Damn it.
You'd think "up" wouldn't be too much to ask. It's not like nor-nor-east or something.
I need to find out where I am. Also who, but that might be less important. It's possible the two things are related.
Stars, I need stars. I was always a fine sailor; they said my navigation was celestial.
I think I am a fallen star. I should wish on myself. Please let me go home, please let me go home, please let me go home, please let me go home, please please please please please please please ple
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY
Gap in the clouds: head suddenly much clearer.
The spider is working on me.
I must be in very bad shape.
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY
Of course the crew won't come for me if they're all dead. If they're all dead and I alone am left to tell the tale.
I'm crying, and my tears are made of sand.
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY
Those are pearls that were her eyes:
Nothing of her that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange
Eight legs (I feel them walking on me) and how many voices-three? Five? Eight?-I am become a most delicate monster indeed.
What a brave new world-sand and darkness, sand and loneliness, sand and emptiness, sand and the spider-what a brave new world, that hath such monsters in it.
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY
Just remembered something important:
The Operator.
That was my nickname. That's what the rest of the crew called me when they didn't call me ... whatever my name was.
The Operator.
I wish I could remember their names
I have no clue