Main Campfire, Saturday Morning

[crimson_sister]

Lucille had, like everyone else, woken up this morning without memories. This was strange, and obviously disturbing, and as the only things she could find in her strange home, apart from clothes, were two romantic novels, a collection of poetry and a phone, she had packed these in a small bag and left, hoping that the world outside would make things clearer.

It hadn't, which was why she was now sitting in front of a burnt out campfire, reading a novel called The Rose of Orlais.

[Open!]

Comments

[crimson_sister]

"I believe you are right," she said. "How sad, though."

[intotheout]

"Yeah. So, um. Why do you think you can't remember anything?"

[crimson_sister]

"Perhaps this is an affliction of some kind? A plague?"

She really didn't know.

[intotheout]

". . . You've noticed that we're in space, right?"

That part seemed like a rather salient detail to Tip, personally.

[crimson_sister]

"There are no plagues in space?" she asked. "Or space makes people forget things?"

Both seemed unlikely, and she found Tip's comment pointless.