Harper gives you another looking-over. “If you don’t mind me saying, you look pretty clean in spite of everything that’s happened. I don’t got anything against spacers or vaulters, but some folk here do. I’d suggest changing out of that plugsuit at the first chance you get, or getting mud on your hair.”
<span class="mu-i">Spacer – an inhabitant of an orbital colony.</span>
He hesitates, frowning. "...come to think about it, I don't think I got your name...miss?"
<span class="mu-i">Vaulter – unknown, further context required. Extrapolation: resident of sealed doomsday bunkers.</span>
The words hang heavy between you. He’s not accusing as much as waiting. Expecting you to fill the silence with something – anything – that explains who you are, why you’re here, and/or how you’ve survived.
The words itch on the tip of your tongue, but you aren’t quite sure what shape they should take.
"...ah..."
>>How do you wish to answer Harper’s inquiry?>Honest. Admit you don’t remember anything before the underwater lab.>Guarded. Give him a name, any name, but nothing more beyond that.>Deceptive. Claim another past, and let Harper think you’re a spacer or vaulter.>Custom option. [Write-in]<span class="mu-s">[VOTE OPEN FOR TWELVE (12) HOURS]</span>
>>6304496>So what do you think did it to you?Week-old steak in the fridge. 