ataraxionlogs | SIXTH WAVE

CHARACTERS: Everyone
LOCATION: Gravity Couch Room
WARNINGS: Possible swearing, possible violence, implied (and possibly explicit) nudity.
SUMMARY: Another month, another jump, another round of new faces.
NOTES: Yep, we're continuing the tradition of re-hashing the game premise.

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You wake up in darkness.

There's a breathing tube jammed down your trachea, and you're suspended in a tube of clear blue fluid. Upon registering your level of consciousness, the gravity couch drains the fluid surrounding you and retracts the breathing apparatus; the doors in front of you open, and you're deposited on the floor of a stark, sterile medical bay.

You are not alone.

There are others who have come before you, others who are awakening beside you. Some may be familiar to you, perhaps even friends. Others have much less amiable plans. Some are merely alien and inexplicable, but there are always those who might mean you harm.

After you catch your breath and your vision returns, you notice a number on the inside of your forearm. Maybe it's a familiar number. Maybe it means something. Maybe it's just a number. But the number—completely unique to you—is a tattoo, and it does not come off.

If you enter the room adjacent to the medbay, you will find a small locker with your number on it, surrounded by rows upon rows of identical lockers. Inside, you will find a few of your personal items, a communications device, and a ship's uniform in your exact size. The comms device is fully powered and connects directly to the ship's network; it's your only means of communication beyond physical conversation. Upon turning the device on, a neutral, automated voice will say, "Please take the blue lift to the passenger quarters." Any other attempts at communicating with the rest of the network are met only with static.

This is your welcome party.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Buffy was mostly focusing on the fact that there were an awful lot of people around and trying not to think about the risks of just one of them going into amplification when she noticed that some of the people didn't seem to be people at all. Buffy stared for a moment -- she couldn't help it -- and then she tried a tentative smile.

This situation was very strange, but she could tell that this other...person? was less disoriented than her and simply more pissed off. "Can you explain what happened?" she asked, frowning.

Nepeta is used to the staring by now. Maybe she should feel a little more self-conscious--especially when emerging from the grav couches in nothing but her underwear--but she's a little too busy staring herself. Hey, as far as she's concerned, humans and the like are the real oddities.

She's startled out of her grumpy mumbling (mostly along the lines of stupid gross water, if I have to be this unpleasantly wet couldn't they just put me in tea?) by a voice. Although irritated by the circumstances, she would be hard pressed to actually take it out on someone else. Heck, meeting new people is the only good part about jumps.

"Oh, hello!" She grins, trying to shake off any excess water with as much grace as possible. (Read: none at all.)

"What happened? Er, you mean..." It takes her a moment to find the right words; even if she's not as confused as her first jump, her mind is still hazy and it takes her longer to grasp thoughts.

"Like where you are? You're on the Tranquility!"

Buffy offers a smile at the greeting, along with a nod. "Hi." Grace is far too overrated anyway. There are more important things.

"On the...Tranquility?" That's not particularly helpful, she can't think of anything she'd be on that would have that name. "Is it like a military base?" Although Buffy can't say why she'd be on one of those either. Perhaps there's a reason she can't remember now.

"Look, if you know where I can go for the blood test, that's all I need. I'm sure whoever is in charge will sort me out after that."

"It's a space ship! Not a military one as fur as I know. I haven't met the captains or pilots or anything yet, though if you need a blood test, there's quite a few human doctors who'd be willing to help! Mr. Watson, fur one."

Nepeta rattles off all the information like nothing she's saying is strange or should be considered strange. And to her, it's not. Once you've played a game superimposed on reality, created a universe, and hid on a meteor, the idea of living on a space ship isn't exactly novel.

"You mean that you haven't had blood tests regularly yourself?" Buffy frowns, taking a quick step backward. She only knows the one reality, and that's the one where the people you love can turn into zombies and the only way to be certain that they're not infected is to do a blood test and search for signs of the disease. She shouldn't be allowed to enter a room as crowded as this one without have been tested.

And if there are only a few doctors? Oh, God, this is some experimental facility they had all been put in to see how long they last until they die, isn't it? She needs to talk to George and Shaun, and she's equally sure that she won't be permitted to. "Where is Dr. Watson? Does he usually greet the new...arrivals?"

Nepeta shakes her head. "Nope, never had one until I got here! I guess that's a side-effect of growing up in a cave, heehee!"

Considering much of her species doesn't even survive to adulthood (and usually meet a violent end either at the hands of other trolls or their lususes), blood tests probably wouldn't be of much use. Also, as she said, she totally grew up in a cave. Not exactly a model for normality.

"He's, um..." She glances around the crowded room, but doesn't immediately find him. "Not sure. But if you message him, he'll respond! And I think he hangs out in the med bay, so he might be there."

"A cave? Oh my." Well, that would explain a lot. Although it seems very dangerous to Buffy. After all, any animal of sufficient mass can Amplify.

"I can message people on the device here? Do they have email addresses or is simply knowing their name sufficient?" Buffy's still feeling rather overwhelmed, but having a plan of action does help a little.

What can I say, Nepeta lives on the wild side. Hunting deadly predators with nothing but her teeth and claws is grocery shopping to her.

"I've found that asking fur their name is enough," she explains patiently. It wasn't too long ago that Nepeta herself was in Buffy's shoes. Considering that Nep's life consisted of having her planet destroyed by a video game and hiding from a murderous dog guy with god powers on a meteor, and even she was astounded when she arrived on the Tranquility, she can't imagine how hard it must be for other people to cope with the sudden change.

"Mine's Nepeta, by the way! You'll purrobably recognize me on the network from my green text, heh."

"Buffy Meissonier. You can call me Buffy." She forces a small, cautiously friendly smile. It's nothing compared to Buffy's usual ones, but then she'd rather force herself to feel the emotion behind her usual perkiness, rather than pretend to be cheery when it's nothing more than a lie.

"In that case I'll keep an eye out for green. I really appreciate you taking the time to explain some of the things to me." Buffy's stepping back now, ready to find that doctor and get settled here, for whatever value of settles that's even achievable.

SIXTH WAVE

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