A Lost boy somehow gets even more lost.
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I'm somebody he doesn't say, looking from face to face around him for any spark of... anything. Curiosity, confusion, hell, he'll take irritation, if this is the sort of thing people just come into existence with baked-in spiritual beliefs about and he's just coming off as irreverent.

Anything but pity, like he's some broken thing.

I'm not broken he also doesn't say. No, not broken. Warped, a little, sure, let one of them go through the Hedge without picking up a touch of madness, but if anyone here was "made wrong"...

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It's them.

The ones without curiosity, the ones without confusion, the ones that were possibly made without any, made without the ability to question these sorts of things the way a normal human might.

Which brings up the question again of whether they're really, actually human at all.

He might be the only real person in this whole world, surrounded by fetch automatons, playing out whatever role was written on the strip of paper wrapped around the sticks and leaves at their center...

If he kills one, would they turn back into twine-wrapped-twigs in a puff of glamour, with some ready explanation about how of course that's what happens to humans when they die, they're not animals after all...

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No. The cannibal rounds wouldn't make sense if they weren't flesh and blood, and he's not going to assume those are fake until he has better reason to.

And he's not going to assume these aren't real humans, real people, until he has a lot more than a lack of curiosity about their world. If they were all made that way... if the very first people populating the world were picked to lack that sort of curiosity, and they just made each generation with that same lack, if the whole world lacks that sort of thinking, it would make sense for them to just assume no one would have thoughts like this.

It doesn't make them any less victims.

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But it does leave him almost as alone as he was in the Hedge, and unlikely to find others who can help him figure out what's really happening in this world.

He drops his gaze and focuses on his sewing.

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There's some confusion, sure! But none of them seem to want to pick up the conversational thread.

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He'll mark the confused ones in his memory, maybe try to talk to them one on one later. Just in case that confusion can turn into curiosity with the right questions, away from others.

And he'll keep thinking about the implications of knowledge creation in made people, and how he might test it.

He's thought before about trying to make someone himself once he figures out how, just to see if it works for him and maybe learn something more fundamental about how this world works... and now he knows what sort of person he'd make, in case he can.

What would happen to the world if someone was made in it with all the knowledge of the industrial revolution already in their head? Knowledge of how to make radios and phones and computers, all as easily as people here are made knowing another language? If all Danny has to do is imagine them having it, and real knowledge appears...

Hell, what would stop him from making someone who could invent cold fusion? Impossibility? Could he just go down a list of sci-fi inventions until he gets one that works?

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Eventually they catch up on the sewing and disperse to other tasks.

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He'll take a break, eat a handful of his food, then see what else the ship needs him to do, sketching out tentative plans for what he'll do if he can't find the right sort of people on Rabitround.

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He can help in the galley husking coconuts.

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He will do that.

...how many people are around him also doing that?

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Someone shows him how but then they're working on other things.

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Coconuts are surprisingly hard to husk in zero G without fibers spreading, but he does his best.

His mind keeps going back to the conversation as he does, occasional sullen embers burning as he thinks of the way things ended compared to how well they were going up to that point. 

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He doesn't like being dismissed, and especially doesn't like being dismissed without an explanation for why the thing he said is dismissible. The subtle, or not so subtle, implication that he was missing something obvious feels bad, and he tries not to react to that bad feeling with more dark thoughts about other people in this world.

He also tries not to think too hard about... any specific person or set of traits a person can have, in case that's enough to just make a new person.

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He does not accidentally make a new person in the ship galley.

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Well that's alright then.

He'll husk until there's no husking left to do, then get some fresh air and see what's going on around the hull, maybe watch as they sail away from the round for a bit.

He'll also keep an eye out for anyone who looked confused before, in case they're alone.

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People are scrubbing the hull. They've got one end of the ship in a cloudbank so there's some rainbarrel wrangling going on. A former confused person is hanging out at a rigging attachment point waiting for the cue to adjust.

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Probably a bad time to distract him. He'll wait, and meanwhile see if he can help with the scrubbing a bit, and just enjoy the freedom of the weightless maneuvering; moving his whole body feels more fun than just his hands, after the last few hours.

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He gets hassled about tethering protocol but is otherwise free to do this.

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Weee...

(within tethering protocol of course)

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(Is anyone else subtly pulling off small zero-G tricks like summersaults and barrel rolls while they work?)

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They get pretty elaborate when they have the time and slack, yeah!

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Watching them lifts his mood more than the dancing did, and he does his best to mimic some when it seems safe to do so. What's one of the more most complex looking thing someone's doing that he can (eventually) try, once he has more skill?

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Somebody has the hang of making it look like they're dancing on the hull of the ship as though it were the surface of a round with light steps and rope tension!

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Sick. He wonders if there are zero-gravity sports around any of the rounds...

How's that one previously-confused sailor? And/or are there any others around and isolated and not concentrating on something too delicate?

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The previously-confused one is inspecting the hull for damage, pausing occasionally to sand uneven spots or patch holes.

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