The Wayfarer

[Caliban]

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Ego sits on a metal chair which matches the desk made of the same metal. He holds both hands on the desk, pressing this metallic thumb against every other finger from the same hand in a fluid motion. Tired eyes lock on one of the only objects that were left on the desk: a scratched monitor transmitting live video feed from various cameras spread across the Dunlin. Non-Autonomous droids carrying menial tasks throughout the dump Ego calls home. It was his home, though. Only his, because he wouldn't let anyone else aboard.

Open personal log-

His laid back posture breaks as a shiver creeped down his spine. Like a murderer's cold knife teasing its victim, before landing the final blow. A slightly autotuned feminine voice leaves a low, near-playful giggle. A gloved hand touches Ego's shoulder moving down to his arm.

I still think you're in need of help. a short pause Just not mine. her breath drew closer. Her perfume becoming stronger with it. Did you write down what he said?

Her words are mesmerizing. A soothing voice long forgotten, bastardized by the passage of time to a state of unrecognizable mess. His words struggle to leave his mouth at first as if being strangled by the one sitting behind him. But she wouldn't. Her gloved hand remains by his side, almost pushing him to speak.

"Listen to the place. Places." he says reluctantly, looking down at the floor with eyes drowned in sorrow. He turns the chair towards her, determined to see her face just this once. A wall stares him down. "Why won't you let me remember you?"

He gets up on his feet, leaning on the desk as he does akin to an old sack of bones. But he isn't old. He knows he isn't, but he doesn't know how old he is either. Nobody asks him that. Everyone asks him why is he so distant. Apathetic. He doesn't know the answer to that either. Her voice grows distant along the hallway linking to his quarters, echoing words once said that serve as nothing more but a memory.

Are you still alive?

Her silhouette floats away along the hallway facing away from Ego, vanishing through the wall in a smog of purple cloud and leaving nothing behind. The scent of her perfume still lingered for a few seconds as he slowly walked towards the same wall. It soon disappearing, too.

No. a slight tremble in his voice. He says something else, but the helmet drowns it all like it did many other words he longed to say.

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"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."

Prospero's Folly - - - Character Information