[voice] in which skulduggery asks a pertinent question

[sammyskeleton]

[The voice that clicks on is smooth, deep, and there's a definite hint of an Irish accent in there.]

What happens to the people we've left behind? If anybody knows, I mean. If you don't, that's all right. You can just tell me what you think happens. Or, we could talk about the weather. [Pause.] Of which there is none of in space, making that a short conversation.

Maybe pick your own topic. I'd like to talk to just about anybody, at the moment. Get to know the other inmates, so to speak. I'm an excellent conversationalist, you'll find - possibly the best, but I'll give everyone a chance to prove me wrong there.

Comments

voice;

[sammyskeleton]

My name is actually Skulduggery. Pleasant.

voice;

[gothchicklit]

[ Weirdest fucking name ever, but okay. ] I'm October.

voice;

[sammyskeleton]

[He's heard WAY WEIRDER than October or Skulduggery, so he just sounds all pleasant and smooth and whatever.]

Excellent, it's a pleasure to speak with you, October. So, how are you enjoying being lost in space?

voice;

[gothchicklit]

It's a fucking riot. [ It's actually not so bad, for the most part. At least she's alive here. ] It'd be really nice if whoever's driving this thing would park it somewhere with actual land and everything so we could get some fresh air, though.

voice;

[sammyskeleton]

Fresh air would be nice. Answers, of course, would be nicer.

voice;

[gothchicklit]

Well, yeah, but I figured a vacation from our forced vacation might be a little more likely than answers.