ataraxionlogs | THE CRASH

CHARACTERS: Any and all.
LOCATION: Medical and beyond.
WARNINGS: Violence, implied (and possibly explicit) nakedness.
SUMMARY: Arrival in the crashed Tranquility

W E L C O M E
You wake up, alone in the dark. There's a breathing tube jammed down your trachea, and you're suspended in a tube of clear blue fluid. Through the fog you can see shadows of movement, the muted sound of alarms crying. 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 suddenly dropped several feet onto the opposite wall.

The impact is painful, winds you, and it takes several seconds to overcome and persuade uncooperative limbs to move. You barely have the time for it. All around you is chaos: the sirens of alarms are shrieking in your ears, drowning out the cries of confusion from the people awakening around you, trapped in their gravity couches or stumbling through the wreckage. Louder than that is a deep rumbling, coming from somewhere farther away, vibrating through the metal underneath you. It's hard to make out much of anything in the dim red light, but you catch sight of a sprawl of garbled black on your forearm and wonder--

Who are you? How did you get here?

A drip lands on your cheek. Another. You look up as a flash of light illuminates a rend in the outer wall high above you, a steadily increasing fall of raindrops showering through. Another rumble rolls through the wreckage around you, and you pull weak, unsteady legs underneath you, rising to a shaky stand.

M E D I C A L
There's a shout, nearby, and your attention turns from the hole high in the wall to the room around you. Standing sideways, the smooth doors of gravity couches under your feet, fallen wreckage and debris making obstacles in your path. But there are others here, climbing through it as best they can, or trapped inside their gravity couches, injured, or worse. You step over the body of a man in a jumpsuit, venturing further into the gloom of red. The shout comes again. Someone might need your help. Or they might have answers about what happened here.

O U T S I D E
It takes all the strength you have to climb up through the fallen structural beams and hanging cabling, metal slipping wet beneath your fingers and feet. Eventually you emerge, and in another flash of bright light realise you stand on the shell of some colossal structure, the shadows of dense jungle all around you. The night sky above is a violent flux of colors, a dense, roiling tower of cloud crawling with lightning as if on fire, thunder booming again and again as the deluge pours down. In the brief flashes of light you start to notice figures, further away, scattered across the shell. Dressed in dark jumpsuits, their shouts are drowned out by the storm, but their struggles are evident; lashing out, grappling, fighting each other for their lives.

There's a sound behind you, and as you turn one lunges towards you, a jagged shaft of metal in his hand. His eyes are wide, teeth bared, and as you stagger back he yells something, coming for you again: "You did this!"

N O T E S
Venturing through the medbay will discover the lockers and main bay, all heavily damaged. Characters will likely be able to salvage some belongings from the destroyed lockers - otherwise they will be able to find jumpsuits and other standard clothing in the wreckage.
The alarms will cut after two hours, a which point a looping audio message telling passengers to make their way to the blue lifts will be audible. The lifts, if investigated, will be missing, leaving only empty elevator shafts.
The nexus of the strange superstorm will disperse out into colorful clouds after approximately half an hour, at which point rainfall will ease to something less torrential. The storm will pass entirely after five hours. Dawn will come two hours after this.
The Tranquility's original crew members can be found amongst player characters, either in medical or outside of the ship already. They will similarly be suffering from memory loss, but worse than that, a small number of them will be extremely violent in attacking player characters, other crew, or even harming themselves.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

pods/medical on arrival

Eponine takes a moment to recover, sprawled out on the floor. Her thin frame doesn't allow for any sort of protection from the impact, and, limbs akimbo, Eponine tries to force air into her lungs. In order to do so, she sits straight up, cold and as the air rushes back into her lungs, she realizes she's naked.

She's naked and... That's it. She doesn't know anything. Where she is, who she is, who all these people are. There's so much noise, so much light, and yet none-at-all and everyone seems to be moving and making noise.

On weak legs, Eponine forces herself to stand, looking down at her figure with awe. She was a skeleton disguised as a girl, her body a topographical map of abuse and poverty. But even that, she didn't know.

She doesn't scream. Others do, but she walks on the outskirts, trying to find herself something to wear. Clothes, first, then she'll ask for answers that won't have any sort of idea what they mean. Unless... Someone here must know something. Why she can't remember anything before she just woke up. The only clue she had was the number on her arm, and a small woven bracelet, and even those made no sense.

Her steps are uneasy, her steps hobbled by age that didn't suit her young features, carefully watching until she finds something that could be worn. A dress of sorts, flowers that had seen better days (she remembered flowers) and an odd pair of boots, and thusly, she makes it through the fighting, the shouting, out into the humid air, the rain.

The rain, she likes that. Closing her eyes, Eponine steps further out into the rain, holding her arms out and smiling. Then that, too, turned into laughing. It was wrong, amongst the noise. But there was something about the air and the rain that drew her out, away from the blood and noise.

later
Eponine has since found a bag amongst the wreckage, filling it with a few things she'd found. Maybe they were hers before. But she didn't know. Hopefully, no one else knew, either.

Now, she was sitting on a root, soaked to the bone as she watched everyone mill about. So far, she'd discerned that they were stranded, and she didn't think anyone knew who they were. "I should have a name," she decided out-loud, leaning against the trunk of the tree. "Something beautiful, I'm sure."

All around her, the storm was lifting, fog rising. The heat hadn't let off. She considers milling about with the others, and perhaps, perhaps she will. Maybe someone in there was here with her.

Edited 2015-08-09 16:32 (UTC)

"You should." Names were important. It was starting to become obvious that all of them had lost something. The most fundamental something there could be. And without even knowing what to call themselves, what were they supposed to do. "Perhaps after a flower."

She couldn't remember if she'd ever known the flowers around here. But she remembered some.

"I don't know the names of any flowers," Eponine said, waiting until she was done speaking to actually turn to look at the other girl. She seemed to be a little bit older than her, but Eponine didn't know how old even she was. "Not any of the ones here."

They were interesting, to say the least.

"do you know what your name is?" The conversation was silly. But important. She needed a name, and then she could find more out.

She shakes her head. "I don't remember much of anything. I must have hit my head in the crash." That might make people forget, right? It had been a pretty violent landing. "I remember there are words for flowers. Dandelion. Lily. Rose. Marigold. But I'm not sure if any of those mean the plants here."

"Marigold! That is it!" She jumps on the name the moment it's said, ignoring what else the girl said. "I shall be Marigold. I do like that name. You must have one, too! And we shall call each other by these names, until we remember our old ones, but even then, perhaps, we can still use them! Secret names!" The idea thrilled her, though she couldn't say why.

"So now you must call me Marigold." Marigold. She felt like a Marigold. From henceforth, she would be known as Marigold!

"I like it, Marigold. We can keep using these names even after." Because why shouldn't they? This was something that had happened. And Marigold just seemed like it suited the girl.

"I'm not sure what to call myself. I'm not sure I'm a flower person." The clothes she'd found were all black, after all. Though maybe she was.

"Perhaps! I would love that! Marigold!" She loved the way her new name felt on her lips, in her ears. Grinning, she turned all her attention to the other girl.

"If I am a flower, then you could be a bird!" The irony was completely lost on her. "A robin, perhaps? Jay, Ava, Dove, Raven?" Eponine herself was partial to Robin, but as the other girl had, she would keep her opinion to herself.

"It's a pretty name. It suits you." She's not sure if they knew each other before. But she certainly gets an impression of liking this girl.

She glances down at her clothes. "You know, I dress like a Raven. But I think I feel more like a Robin." Raven might be a bit on the nose. Robin was pleasant sounding.

"You look more like a Robin. You are... bird-like." It seemed like an appropriate thing to say.

With the muggy air smothering the two girls, Eponine swung her legs out back and fourth and laughed. "Marigold and Robin! Beautiful names for beautiful girls!"

THE CRASH

Éponine, ota

later

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