ELEVENTH WAVE

[astrogate]

CHARACTERS: any and all
LOCATION: Gravity Couches and beyond
WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, or even some violence, and more than likely some implied (and possibly explicit) nakedness.
SUMMARY: Another month, another jump, another round of new faces.
NOTES: Keeping up with the tradition and copy pasted like always from the last one


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.

Comments

[watashinonamaewa]

[ There isn't anything particularly strange about this jump. Cibo slips from her gravcouch calm as ever and heads to the showers and her locker to clean herself up and dress. If you approach her, she'll be quietly staring into her empty locker. The memories of the Otherworlds she experienced still fresh in her mind. Even the few days before the jump weren't enough for her to recover and she generally avoided all contact as a result.

What brings her from her trance is the buzzing of her communications device. A message from her small friend, Frodo. The confusion and curiosity of what his message is telling her is what pulls her away from the lockers and to the nearest lift leading to the oxygen gardens. And then there is the thing. A human-sized fish passively swimming around in one of the larger streams in the gardens.

It reminds her of the City and of Killy. Then she realizes that she's seen it before. She remembers the large tank it inhabited when she woke from the surgery of her shoulder — just before meeting the Safeguard units, Dhomochevsky and Iko. The stream seems so small in comparison of the tank that she can't help but to wonder if it feels cramped.

She'll remain in the gardens to speak with Frodo, who first found the giant fish, and anyone else who approaches. But she'll seem distant. Lost in memories of the City. After a time of keeping her legs in the water with the coelacanth, Cibo finally decides to leave in search of a place more comfortable for the old creature. She finds the pools shortly after and is immediately content. Taking out the device, she sends a text to Scout — it's been a while, anyway. ]

Can you meet me at the pool? I need your help moving something.

[ When Scout arrives, though, the room is entirely vacant. The pool ripples from some disturbance beneath the surface. That disturbance would be Cibo falling slowly into the deep end. Losing air without much of a struggle at all; Thoroughly convinced that this is simply one of her night terrors playing out again.

She would wake up screaming once she blacked out. Right? ]


[ ooc: You can meet Cibo at the showers/lockers or oxygen gardens! The pool scene is reserved to Scout.
Alternatively, if you want to meet the fish before or after Cibo arrives, have fun♥ ]

[ringbearer]

[ by the time cibo arrives, frodo is moving from his spot near a bench. it's noticable that he seems a bit slower to rise currently, but when he sees her there is wonder in blue eyes rimmed with lack of sleep. he walks towards her, offering a baffled expression that makes that disappear. ]

You must look at this, Miss Cibo. I've never seen such a fish this large.

OTA prose/action is fine!

[redhotsummers]

Near the Pods

[Alex is feeling more like himself this jump. It's like everything in his world sort of righted itself. There were reasons for that, of course, but he isn't really inclined to think about them just yet.

Rolling off the bed, he takes a deep breath, shaking the gunk out of his hair as best he can. As usual he makes a quick scan of the room, but tries to avoid catching anyone's eyes in particular. The scars on his body are always a sore point, and he doesn't like showing them off. Because they lead to question and memories.

So check for people he might know, or people he cares about, then it's off to showers and lockers.]

Lockers

[Alex immediately opens the door to his locker, half expecting Anya and Bozo to have attempt to maul each other--a dog and a cat in a small space like that could.

But they bound out happily enough, moving to explore the space as they always do, as Alex starts to get dressed, checking to make sure he has nothing new.

He sits down, now more willing to look other people in the eyes, looking for new people who look like they might need help, and others he cares about, to check on them as well.]

[ringbearer]

[ last he'd spoken with alex had been..well, it troubled him. the way he'd spoken of himself as if he were some sort of lost cause..it reminded him of himself in some ways, though the difference between them was that it felt as if alex didn't have hope anymore.

since the nightmares that followed on the ship, frodo had wondered over the people he'd spoken to. alex being one of them. when he glances up from his place at his locker, moving to pull his cloak over his shirt, he is surprised to see alex there. he glances up, says his name quietly and greets him with a small, tired smile. ]

Hullo, Alex.

[citygrit]

Today had been a very bad day in the neighborhood.

...Wherever the fuck the neighborhood had gone.

It had been almost a decade since Alexander had a severely bad, substance-induced trip, and he'd had plenty of them in his lifetime to know what a bad trip was. He had seen cows and fire engines fall from the sky, entertained himself for hours staring at a lava lamp, and yes, even enjoyed partaking in acts of violence more than he would ever care to admit over casual dinner conversation.

Anyway, sex, drugs, and violence wasn't really much the point here. What really struck Alexander strange, however, was that none of the trips he had experienced drew out for as long as this one did. Even then this wasn't much of a bad trip but a horrible, horrible wakeup call.

First of all, he awoke on the floor, screaming his lungs out. A splitting migraine assaulted any hope he had for peace. From falling onto the floor in the basement of his house to finding himself in a noisy room, and Christ on a Cross it was fucking COLD.

Though he discovered this was probably because he was also mostly naked.

Now why was he mostly naked?

Before all of this had started and the bad dream began, life had just started to go so well for Alexander Wolfgang. Ten years of peace. A quiet house, a nice freelance job... a death sentence that would promise him a world of pain. It was what any Ophelian could have ever asked for, really!

The guttural screaming stopped. This time, he started with the wet cough. This was a man who was not only deathly out of shape, but already in terrible condition as it was. His lungs suffocated him, like breathing in thick smog that filled his lungs. With that, he steered back into the present, and into panic mode.

"WHAT THE FUUUCK."

All things considered, if this were a dream, it would be nice to wake up right about now.

Seconds later, he found that that just wasn't happening.

The pathetic, waste of a man struggled to haul himself back onto his shaking legs. At some point, his hands and knees scraped against something. More injury to insult, or insult to injury, or... Fuck it. Just one shit-on after another, this day was.

He doubted that wherever the way out of this room led, it wouldn't take him back towards any place remotely like Kansas, let alone to Larkspur, Louisiana... Still, a man certainly could wish upon a fucking star if he so wanted.

Not that he was allowed to get very far. No more than a few steps were taken before Alexander fell face-forward onto the ground again, his the metal in his forehead clanking against the ground and humming to the rest of his brain. Eeeeeeeeee, it went, in a nice, mind-numbing cacophony of discomfort.

Blood trickled out of his left ear. His nose had also started to bleed. It splattered and drained across the tiled floor. That wasn't any good, either, was it?

He would almost feel damned sorry for someone finding him in such an undignified position, if a.) Alexander Wolfgang gave two shits about his dignity. Also there was b.) in which he was unconscious, anyway. So, that said, he wasn't about to care anytime soon no matter how the wheel turned.

[justamobster]

Ladon's here again after he's woken up and gotten a look around the ship, not because he wants to revisit the lovely experience of waking up submerged in fucking goo, but because he's so far been unable to find more than one person who remembers Sacrosanct and, well. He wouldn't be an obsessive asshole if he didn't check the pods to make sure his favorite people weren't stuck there, right?

He's just entered to conduct an inspection of the pods when Alexander goes down and while Ladon shouts a "whoa!" and attempts to catch him, he's too late. Which may be for the best, it's not like Ladon's strong enough to support a regular fella, let alone one with all that metal on him.

He does reach the guy's shoulder and give him a good shake, though. "Hey! Hey, pal, you all right there? Shit, you're bleedin'."

OTA!

[learnedtosmile]

[Blake has every intention of going through this jump as quickly as he can – gathering his things and going back to his room. This month, he's in no shape to play tour guide to newcomers – he'll leave that to others. After what happened before the jump – his nightmare vision of Gotham, the run-ins he had with the nightmares of others, he's close to that edge of control. It's better now than it was a few days ago, right after the fog cleared, but he's still closer to it than he has been since he was a teenager.

Which means he needs to stay away from people for a couple more days.

That, coupled with the fact that his face is thoroughly bruised up after making contact with Brendan's knee, complete with a messed-up nose and two black eyes – well, Blake is going to clear out his locker and run.

Until, that is, he spots the items placed there, folded neatly. The little GCPD stitched on the neck, the insignia, and suddenly he feels like he can't breathe. Still wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, hair damp from the shower, Blake sits down on a bench near his locker, elbows on his knees, staring at it, his brow furrowed.]

:|

[constructum]

[ ariadne knew (or more assumed) john was going through something, something he honestly didn't want to talk about. which as okay - she understood that - she was dealing with things all her own. but it honestly didn't stop her from caring in some small way about his well-being.

so without much of a second thought, she was showering and dressing (her jeans and a her worn out blouse this time) and tossing her towel over her shoulder, quickly making her way over to where john was - assuming she would catch him in time.

and the moment she spotted him, she found herself stopping just a few feet away; watching him with a small furrowed brow, wondering just what was going through his mind. (really john…why are you not dressed yet?)

finally calling out, her tone slightly unsure: ] Hey.

[ she honestly isn't sure if he wants to see her or not, and the clear uncertainty of that fact is showing on her face, so she quickly adds: ] Simon gave me these [ and with that, she is holding out a bottle of pills for him. ] they should help with the pain.

[yardbird]

He had hoped that there would be a slim chance that he would feel better after the jump. That maybe the nanites or whatever finally worked their magic and miraculously took away whatever had plagued him these days.

Boy had Murphy been wrong.

His body still showcased the marks from his trip to the other side (or "otherworld", as Alex had called it. Honestly, even when Murphy had his own firsthand Silent Hill experience, he had no idea what to call it. Hell? Seemed equally appropriate). The stab wounds in which he had been impaled through his ribs and heart still showed as deep, fresh scars, which he doubt would be going away anytime soon. If ever.

If nothing else, everything he did, thinking it would make him better, actually just magnified tenfold. Toughing it out after crawling out of the gravity couch just didn't seem like an option anymore. Assuming that he would recover after a shower, he then realized just how nauseated he really was.

Murphy slapped his hand over his mouth after cleaning off.

He was sick, feverish, shaking. The overwhelming cold swept over him even after he dried off, got dressed, and started to leave.

"Oh shit..."

As expected, he didn't make it too far out the door before his stomach churned again. It was a reoccurring symptom ever since he got back. He didn't want to deal with the medbay, or the checkups, or being around hospital equipment in general after what happened. His recent memory was often revisited by how messed up he had been in that hellish hospital. Unable to focus or move on his own. How he was almost wheeled away by something behind him that was so dead and reeked...

The smell invaded his mind again; it felt too real to just be in his head. Rather than heading out the door as Murphy had initially planned, he grabbed his stomach again, and fled to one of the bathroom stalls lined up. The door behind him slammed shut, but didn't latch, as he didn't have the time to secure any privacy before he started dry heaving his guts into the toilet bowl.

Classy.

[fuckinghysterical]

LB herself wasn't exactly feeling the greatest either -- one never really got used to the nauseous feeling after a jump drive -- but it wasn't any worse than usual and certainly not the reason she found herself traveling to the bathroom.

No, after cleaning that blue shit off of her (was there a better term for it? she didn't know of any), LB realizes that she really needed to relieve herself and that it would probably be better to get it out of her system, before zipping herself in her plug suit. Sure, there was an area on her suit (complete with written directions) that she could quickly separate to get out of if she needed to, but she didn't want to go through that effort.

So she travels to the bathroom stalls, in her underwear (along with her gun, because she's not going anywhere defenseless), not feeling the least bit of embarrassment about it. However, once she gets that far, she hears a slam. Feeling paranoid about what else might be in the room, she travels to the unlocked stall cautiously, pausing before quickly opening the stall.

Once she sees what's inside, however, LB quickly lowers the weapon, blinking as if she saw something that she really wasn't supposed to see.

"Uh... Murphy?" A nervous laugh passes. "Are you okay?"

Stupid question, but that was the first thing that came to her mind.

[circumitus]

Rey had no interest in wasting her time here. Let's face the facts, she had no business being among the general populace at the moment (as if she ever did). The feeling was so mutual that it only increased her desire to hurry up and get out of there.

So she did, picking herself up out of the locker room and leaving the area at a faster pace, albeit with a slight limp. The injuries she'd sustained recently wouldn't let up, and she wasn't in any way eager to stick around the medbay to let them take care of it. At least by now, she was in a state in which she could walk without stumbling.

Good enough for her. It was also a good thing that she had such a high pain threshold, or this would be far more unbearable than what it was worth.

She would just take it upon herself to hobble down the hallways, maybe head towards the oxygen gardens or someplace where she didn't have to see anyone's face. She didn't want to think about anyone at the moment.

Actually, she tried not to think about much of anything. It wasn't in her nature to think. Only do what she was told, nothing more.

Jadzia Dax | Star Trek:DS9 | ota

[ex_old_man857]

[pods]
[While she isn't a stranger to strange things, Jadzia is still reeling from that wake up. In truth, she isn't a morning person to begin with (is it morning, a part of her mind asks) but would rather stay up late, running some diagnostic or another, and sleep in - that is were she allowed.

Needless to say, it is not a pleasant way to wake up, and her mind is jumbled anyway as she rises. Although she prefers it cooler, she still shivers, noting the undergarments she appears to be in, and that she has no recollection of getting into. Sleeping in the almost buff isn't exactly the way to go when you might need to be awake and out of your quarters in a hurry.

Her hair is plastered against her, a bit of a mess, really, and she pushes it back over her shoulders, and takes stock. Despite some bumps which may bruise, everything appears to be fine. Spots are all there, running down each side of her body, and the symbiont is not giving her any discomfort. Flicking some of the lingering blue fluid off, she surveys the room as if that will tell her whether or not this is real, mumbling under her breath.]

If this is Quark... I'm going to kill that Ferengi.

[locker area]
[Dressed now, damp hair pulled back over one shoulder, and the familiar Starfleet uniform on, Jadzia takes stock of the items in the locker before her. It doesn't exactly give her any answers, but the familiarity of it is a welcomed sign.

She seems to take stock, and her mind is going over her memories- Jadzia's and all the other hosts. While there is a vast array of knowledge at her disposal, she has no frame for this. Any of this. The ship is unfamiliar and the design not known. Either they had not known what her items were, or they simply did not fear them.

Aside from the uniform she had found and her own uniform, she had found her hair clip, which had come in handy, but also her tridorder, phaser and combadge. The latter though was not working, as she has tried pressing it several times already, seeking to address Benjamin or Deep Space 9.

Thus, holding those items, Jadzia arches a brow. Although she is not overly pleased, her voice does hold a certain tone to it, a tone that those who were familiar with Jadzia would recognize.]

Well. I have done more with less.

[anthropos]

[ Data takes care to look for Starfleet uniforms each time they jump, always conscious of the fact that another officer from his ship might appear at any given jump point. First Deanna - departed - then Geordi; the members of the original Enterprise crew, all of them alternates rather than the individuals from his records.

The new figure in Starfleet colours is welcome, though not instantly familiar. It only takes Data a few moments to go through his databanks once he notices the trill spots, however, and his approach become a little more friendly. The Enterprise had visited Deep Space Nine on a few occasions, enough for him to be familiar with the Starfleet officers present there. With Spot in his arms, it seems as good a moment as any to introduce himself. ]

Welcome aboard the Tranquility, Lieutenant. We have not yet formally met, however I am quite familiar with you. [ He can't help his curiosity, it's literally programmed into him. ]

Melisandre | ASOIAF | OTA

[shadowbinder]

[pods]
[Her fires give her visions. Not always, but often. Visions of things to come: things that may be simple enough to know, like those who come after her life, and things that require some thought. Yet, never has she seen a place like this.

She is deposited on the floor, coughing, feeling her slip clinging to her otherwise naked frame, knowing that her ruby is gone. She swallows, coughs again, before that heart shaped face arises. Strands of red hair cling to her face, and red eyes survey, before she arises.

The Other.

It is where her mind goes as red eyes glance side to side. A hesitency within, and yet seemingly otherwise calm for one so out of her element. Years of training had made it so. Do not let them see the price.]

A place of darkness.

[That sonorous voice with its exotic accent.]

[locker area]
[Clean now, or as clean as she may be, she is once more the red priestess. That red ruby on its choker is back upon her neck, and her gown of crimson silk shifts like flames as she turns. Her box is there, there in the steel place where the number had led her to. She is unsure of what to make of that. A challenge? Her pockets have been checked, and those powders that she had had are still there, still waiting should she need to use them.

Yet she is no closer to answers.]

I shall have to pray for the Lord of Light to send me guidance.

[A flame. One of the first things she has learned is to never let the fire go out. Here though it a world of different lights. False lights. And whatever it may be, it is no good.]

[bruxisms]

[ The third time had perhaps given him some time to adjust, having began already to create a routine during the last Jump. Leave the chamber (coffin more like, he thinks to himself), grab a towel, and clean and clothe oneself as quickly as possible before returning to see which other duties need to be tended to. The fog some days (was it days?) prior had made him wearier, but he knew that he must push on, for whatever came ahead.

And so he began his routine. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his stomach (queerly prude, his brother had once told him) and is about to make his way to the chambers when...

He sees her. Or rather, he sees red. But he knows all too well who it is. Her voice, her eyes, the way her voice seems at once both oddly comforting and unsettling... For a moment, he recalls the monster in that nightmare realm, but it was not her. No... ]

My Lady.

[ He moves to her with some haste, though not before averting his eyes (it was perhaps a sight that he had seen and yet...) ]

Soysauce | Original | Couches through to lockers | OTA

[shoyu]

[ funny how the jump's starting to become something that's so routine, so mundane. the gravity couch opens, dumping soysauce unceremoniously onto the floor, and he thinks almost fondly back to the first time he woke up in this place and almost panicked at a loss for what to do. quite used to the routine now, soysauce only gives a few hoarse coughs as he stumbles back to his feet -- brushing big handfuls of the blue gel off of his skin and squeezing it out of his hair as he steps towards the showers. what to do: shower, get dressed, look around to make sure nothing horrible's happened, leave, rest.

soysauce's movements are a little more sluggish than usual, though, when he makes his way to his lockers. the past week or so has been awfully draining, all those excursions through strange lands and those foggy hallways, and he's not really paying too much attention as he rubs a towel through his hair, pulling open his locker --

almost falling over when a few bundles of clothes come spilling out into his arms.

but once he's blinked the surprise away and taken a closer look at what he's been mysteriously gifted this jump, he can't help giving a pleased little smile to himself. they're clothes from home. stiffer stuff than what he already has, too. along with a small gift.

people who already know soysauce might not recognize him immediately this time, because he's not in his signature formal-clothes-and-waistcoat ensemble, instead pulling on a set of sandy, pragmatic, desert clothes. pulling on a pair of yellow-tinted goggles to make sure they're the same as what he's used to. and if anyone stops to stare at him, soysauce just gives them a small (if slightly tired) smile back and chirps, ]

Good afternoon!

[fourseasons]

[Japan's pretty used to staring at people and getting away with it without so much as a comment, so that greeting startles him more than usual. But it's well enough... He has a few questions of his own to get through with people, so whoever he meets works, right?]

...Good afternoon. [There's a glance to the side as he pauses, though from the fact that he's dressed in his uniform it's clear he's lingering around here for something more.] If you do not mind my saying so... You seem quite used to this order of events. Have you been here for very long?

OTA

[willpunchfaces]

[nope. second time around isn't any easier than the first, and Francis stumbles around, disoriented, toward his locker and the showers because seriously? seriously this goop is disgusting and he just wants his bow back. he never feels right without the bow

getting washed up is priority, though, even if he still feels sick after getting the goop off. soon as he feels better, he'll go find the others, but for now, he'll just hang out at the lockers for a few minutes to try and get his bearings]

Re: OTA

[ringbearer]

[ that's really frodo's plan too, as he continues rummaging through his locker, moving to take out his own weapon. not that he uses it a lot, okay. it's a small little blade just his size and he moves to put it in his scabbard. he glances curiously at him because..is his hair white? he goes back to rummaging but not without one more curious glance. ]

Wilee - Premium Rush | OTA -- prose or action is a-ok!

[nobrakes]

[He hit that cab. He hit that cab hard and the last thing Wilee remembered was Vanessa in his face calling his name as he sprawled out on the pavement for naptime in the city. He's sure of that. He knows that's exactly what he remembered seeing last, not this tube full of blue goop, a tube jammed down his throat, before being unceremoniously tipped out of it onto the floor below. He's butt ass naked and shit, Wilee's definitely sure he was wearing clothes before this.

He loses his lunch right where he lays, the few bites of burrito and apple from earlier sprayed on the cold floor and his stomach continues to lurch even though it's killing him to move. He's bleeding from his arm, his ribs feel like they're on fire, and other various spots on his body hurt.

Jesus fuck, what is going on here?]

[talkstoengines]

[Kaylee finds a towel, first thing. It's still disorienting, but at least she knows where she is this time. Finding Simon and River is her first priority, once she's got that towel, but then she spots a fella who stands out - because he's bleeding.

And being sick on the floor, but he's not the only one of those. The bleeding, though, that's a little different, worrying, so Kaylee approaches him.]

Hey there. You need some help? You should have a medic take a look at you.

YOU CAN PROSE IT UP IF YOU WANT

[mutelunatic]

A. GRAVITY COUCHES
[she had gone to bed under the stars, and she wakes up with a tube shoved down her throat and her skin feeling cold and numb. this is a nightmare, she will wake up, she will be back outside, back where she free.

but as the tube retracts and the familiar blue goo recedes she knows it's real and she knows she's back and how could she have forgotten.

in an angry panic she unceremoniously falls from the couch, vomiting blue-tinged bile onto the sterile floor. no.

no no no no.

she grits her teeth in anger and rolls to the side, lying naked on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. she shuts her eyes, rubbing the heels of her hands against them. she was tired, she had her field, why was she back in hell.]

B. THE LOCKERS
[after the initial despair she's back in her routine. her number is different, her locker number is different, and as she slams her new locker open she notices familiar contents.

and some new ones.

the most jarring being a crow in a cage propped up on a stack of buckets. it caws at her and she jerks back.

...she wasn't exacting that.]

C. SHOWERS BUT THIS IS ONLY FOR WHEATLEY OH NO.
[she slips off into the showers when she expects everyone else to not be showering. she's tired, she's angry as hell, and she just wants to be alone.

the contents of her locker have been dropped off in her new room, and it's just her and the water running down her tired, scarred back. she rests her forehead against the tile and just glares down at her toes.]

[andblockbuster]

[Things that even in a haze of post-jump disorientation and leftover hell dimension trauma you cannot ignore: CAWING.

Topher pauses in trying to get the last of the blue goo out of his hair and slowly turns his head in Chell's general direction.

Is it...

Could it be...

Blink. Blink.] Mute girl? [YOU KNOW HER NAME, TOPHER. JESUS. He, at least has the decency to correct himself, lest Chell be unreasonably terrifying in his general direction. It may well happen anyway.] Chell, right? See? I do actually know it. [Hold on. He's... dealing with how weird this is. He's heard of people coming back, but never actually... witnessed it. It's even weirder given his little trip to pseudo-Aperture.] Wow. You're back. This is kinda weird, actually. I was just thinking about you.

[.....]

...Not as creepy as it sounds when you hear the why.

Zer0 | Borderlands 2 | Lockers | OTA

[0000]

[ zer0 opens his eyes and there's fluid in his face. and it takes him 0.00833 minutes to realize that this is wrong. he is unclothed. he is lacking his sneaking suit and his helmet. he is exposed. and an assassin is never without his gear, never exposed. ergo, this is wrong. this is a situation that must be corrected immediately. immediately. it takes him another 0.00833 minutes to cast out a holographic double. quicker than the blink of an eye. perfect.

a bystander would only see a strange figure emerge from that gravity couch, fully dressed in sneaking suit and clad in helmet. defensively drawing a strange, glowing blue sword. making as if to attack some unseen foe.

but completely unseen, zer0 makes a beeline through the throng of people. bumping into some strangers and not caring, feet squeaking across the tile floor when he dashes through the shower. slamming himself into the lockers -- quickly noting the tattoo imprinted on his arm (how unpleasant) and the matching locker number just a few feet away. his time's running short and it's a little rushed, a little sloppy when he grabs up his suit and helmet, throws them on as quickly as possible. there's the unpleasant squelch of blue gel between his skin and the suit's texture -- reminiscent of slag, sticking grossly between the folds of the suit -- and zer0's helmet is projecting an unseeen D: as he squeezes it onto his head.

and not a moment too soon.

there's a small flicker of light as his holograph vanishes and, at the same moment, he poofs back into visibility, fully dressed. helmet still broadcasting that rather displeased emoticon. and it's slow, deliberate, somewhat resentful, the way zer0 squeezes his gloved hand against his chest and feels the residues of gel there drip unpleasantly down against his body. (he'll have to wash it all off in private. When he isn't surrounded by potential threats.) but for now --

zer0 retrieves his sword from the locker. ties his digistruct backpack at his belt. makes sure his good guns (not the ones he was planning on selling off, ugh) are all still there. then turns to whoever's closest and speaks, gripping at the hilt of his digistruct sword, ]

Tell me where we are.
To say I'm displeased right now
would not be enough.

[fuckinghysterical]

[LB gives a little jump as she hears the unfamiliar voice speak to her, as she was finishing up on getting her plug suit on her body. Awkwardly giving a smile as she turned to the stranger, LB gives him a once over. Given her fascination with emoticons, her attention is so focused on his mask that she almost doesn't register that he seemed equipped for attack.

Her expression drops to one of caution, but for the time being, LB managed to keep herself as calm as possible. Although there was something familiar about the way he was speaking, she doesn't immediately recognize the method he was using.]

Haha? You must be new; I would remember someone like you.

[She smiles again, while she finishes zipping up her collar.] People call this the Tranquility -- eheheh -- it's a spaceship. Not many are pleased to be here.

The Eleventh Doctor | OTA

[meddler]

[ Well, what could you say about jumps? They were... jumpy. With... lots of jumps. And jumpy stuff. But no, never mind that. What was far more important was discerning exactly how these pod... things worked, and after two months or so aboard the Tranquility, the Doctor decided it was high time to get to the bottom of things.

Which, he really should have done a lot sooner, but you know how distractions can be. There was just so much to understand about this ship that he really should have set off doing things much sooner. Rushing quickly into the lockers to grab his sonic screwdriver (only a quick hose down; no worries about getting dressed for the time being, after all he still had his pants and this was far more important), he pushes by everyone and everything.

And then he pushes right back the other way back to his... capsule thingey. Time to get to work.

But first...

Remembering what the helpful scientist (Betty... lovely name) had told him about the contents being non-toxic, now was as good of a time as any to confirm her and her friend's theory. Sticking one of his fingers into the substance...

...He licks it.

Now was this a bad idea? Well, they were right about the chemical makeup, but that didn't quite seem to matter, because someone just may be contemplating whether it's better to throw up into the capsule or try to make it back to the showers. ]

[talkstoengines]

[Kaylee wanders back over to the pods after showering and dressing, to look for more of her friends who might need help, or maybe new faces who might need medical attention (she can bring them to Simon, after all!).

So she catches it out of the corner of her eye, the strange fella who - licks at the goo. Her face immediately turns to one of sympathetic disgust because - wow, that must taste terrible.]

Whoa, there, I don't think that's meant for eating! You want a meal, I'm sure we can find you somethin' in the kitchens...

Data / Open

[anthropos]

[ Data might look like his usual self, returned that way after his experience in the fog world, but much had changed. Stiff necked, focused, gathering his few items from the locker, he lifts Spot back out from where he'd placed her moments before, gathering the wet cat to his chest and stroking her fur, letting her push her ginger head against his cheek, but finding no comfort in it--not even the comfort of routine.

What had changed? He wore his gray Starfleet uniform now, the gold undershirt visible underneath. But there was an odd caution in him, in the extreme care he took not to disturb anyone intentionally. Experiencing those few days as a Borg, chasing people through the fog with only one thing on his mind, had worn on him. That was the only way to describe it.

Humans were not to be harmed, unless it was unavoidable in the course of his duty. Data had been driven almost to the point of killing a man once - a collector - but it wasn't the same as the driving need of the Borg, insisting on assimilation without resistance. It was a lot to process, to make sense of it in a way that even remotely forgave him for it.

If only he could speak to his Captain, or perhaps to Guinan, they might be able to explain the sensation to him, tell him what he was supposed to do to justify it to himself. ]

I told you that it would become easier with repetition.

[ Speaking to his cat. ]

[bring_em_down]

[Well, he's seen crazier things than talking to a cat. He overhears it before he sees it, though, and has already opened his mouth to speak before he takes in the situation. There's a hesitation, but he might as well talk if he's close to somebody.]

Nice cat.

abby maitland | closed to connor temple

[mustloverex]

[ Abby’s walked through diamonds and ended up in strange places – an earth full of dinosaurs, of engineered predators, of fire and bunkers. But this almost tops it. Her first instinct is to panic at the helpless feeling of suspension and the choking sensation, reaching up to yank at the tube, but then the pod processes that she’s awake and next thing she knows she’s falling, collapses on hands and knees in a flood of blue.

Now that she’s free, the second instinct is to run; being in an unknown environment with unknown threats, it feels like running for her life in the Cretaceous all over again. She whips her head up, pushes sticky hair back – tangled again, just like it was then – and wide blue eyes take in her surroundings. It doesn’t take her long to realize that she was wrong; this isn’t like anywhere she’s been before.

And she’s not surrounded by threats, but other people, some of them as tense and confused as she is. Slowly, carefully, she stands as her eyes scan the room, trying to make sense of something. She’s unfazed by the nudity, because it’s hardly like she’s an isolated case, and nobody’s paying attention to anybody else’s skin right now.

There’s only one thing that comes to mind from the architecture, the machines – and it’s space. Not the real kind, but the kind from those ridiculous movies Connor always makes her watch, but that’s- ] That’s not possible. [ It’s a low, throaty whisper, more disbelief than shock. ]

[anomalies]

[ Each time, it doesn't get any easier. Waking up with your ears full of viscous fluid, a great tube down your throat, giving you air—until wake up and choke on it. Every time, it's the same hard-hitting thud against the grates, your knees and palms stinging with it, coughing up and heaving oxygen until you can think. Even then, it's jumbled thoughts, scrambled memories. Gaps in the mind that only time and a good rest can fill in. Jumbled frequencies all trying to meet up and get back in order, and sluggish brain trying to wake up from a nap from down under. And underneath it all, that primal need to get up, get away, run, run for your sorry little life.

But Connor doesn't run. Couldn't, really, if he tried. It comes back to him, and he gets to his feet, and he looks around him, and he remembers where he is and what his lot in life is, at least right now, and he tells himself that maybe this is the jump. Maybe this one he'll see a friend. Maybe this time, he won't be the only one.

There are many, many gravity couches, but each jump, Connor does a circuit of them all. Just to check.

Which is why it's the flash of white-blonde that catches him off-guard, and he has to stop and make sure his eyes aren't tricking him, that his mind isn't making him see things that aren't there. Well done, Temple, he thinks to himself, blinking into the crowd on unsteady legs. You've finally gone 'round the pole. It's been too long here, and you've snapped and started seeing things that aren't there. Because why would she be in space, when it's been so long without her? No, Abby's (debatably safely) back home, dealing with the things he can't, because that's how they've always worked. He watches her back, and she picks up his slack. But not here. (God, please not here.)

But he walks forward, drawn to the hazy figure, because even if she is a hallucination, he doesn't think he'd mind, really. Good company to have. And he's missed her, too, even if his brain's saying you just saw her, you muppet, she brought you coffee, she saved your pathetic arse again. But there's no way (there's some way, there's always a way, always), it can't be, except—

Christ, no, it is her. It's Abby. It's Abby, and he steps forward with one foot, and then both, and then starts shouldering through people to get to her. ]

Abby! Abby!

[ His voice is hoarse, but it's loud, and it carries. He stumbles and then catches himself, until he's closer, until he's in front of her, dripping and scruffy and looking a little too much like a drowned chipmunk, trying to catch his breath. She doesn't seem real, after all this time. But it's her. It's her, and it's the first time in a long time he's felt like maybe he can do this after all. Maybe they can do this together.

They've done it before, after all. What's once more, in space? ]

eridan ampora - OPEN come and hassle him while he's still got attitude in him

[uncodlyawwesome]

By his eleventh jump, Eridan has gotten nearly as used to the gravity couches as he'd been used to sopor. The moment of amnesia is gone by the time he staggers out of the couch (sometimes, it takes as long as the walk from the couch to the nearest bench, but that's a rare occurance), and he doesn't even gag on the tube as it slides out of his throat any more.

He's still sluggish as he grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist, heading towards the lockers, but it's more due to exhaustion than anything else. He knows himself well enough to know that he's not getting enough sleep - without sopor, he usually only ranges three or four restless hours a day, making the jumps the longest period of uninterrupted rest he can get. He figures it must be enough, because he hasn't had any real breakdowns yet.

Well, other than the ones relating back to Strela. But that was a while ago. He's over it now.

To prove it to himself, he doubletimes his shower, scrubbing out his hair (starting to lose the color a little, he needs to redye it, but who knows when purple dye will show up again) before marching purposefully to his locker, prying it open and pulling on his clothes with the determination of someone who is on a mission. He wraps his tattered scarf around his neck and shrugs on his cape and decides that yes, this bitch is back in business. Enough moping. He's got to be seven sweeps by now, right? He's too old for this shit.

Time to talk to people and make some emotional and mental progress.

[the_vishual]

[You remember Chase, right? Because she's going to run up to the fishtroll that is Eridan, hug him as tightly as he can, and kiss him smack! right on the cheek. ]

They're here. For you--your friends. They're here.

[ And with another kiss, she untangles herself. ]

You should be happy. [ And then, just like that, she's ran off again. ]

Alex Shepherd | ota

[unsoldiered]

Alex leaves the gravity couches looking like he'd been mowed over by a truck. Maybe it's because of how stressed out he and his body have been this past week, but—yeah, he needs a second sitting against his locker before he can get anything other than his jeans on right now (hell, those had been a challenge all on their own). The raw, red slash and pocked little wounds from his time back in the otherworld weren't bleeding, healed up by the jump so that he didn't need to bandage anything anymore. He can at least consider that a vast improvement, and hey, hopefully... the next jump won't feel so shitty. Hopefully.

He had his doubts.

He looks for Heather, of course. But she's not around, even when he ventures to her locker. Had she already flew the coop the moment they'd gotten out? In the rush of people—so many people—he had no way of knowing.

Goddammit.

He waits there for a while to make sure, before finally leaving. He'd have to check on a lot of people. They were all still reeling from everything, so... Time for wandering.

frodo baggins | open to anyone!!! c:

[ringbearer]

LOCKERS:

[ as usual it is a struggle. frodo baggins is told by his friends to store his strength, to keep it sparingly and to not exert himself. and yet when it comes to the jump with it's harsh tumbling he lands on sore limbs, staggering to catch his breath.

he is not yet recovered from the events days before, where nightmares became reality and he had thought he could find no greater terrors than the ones he'd seen with both sleeping and waking eyes. when he rises to his feet it's shakily. each time he heads to his locker, each time he reaches inside and fingers the gold ring on it's chain and parts some of his curls from his neck.

what's noticable that was not as prominent from the beginning months of the little hobbit's arrival is the beginnings of welts that loop around his necklace as a second chain. it's purpling in some places, like chafed flesh from rope. even the place where the ring would rest against his collar has left an indention much like it's own shape.

if it pains the little fellow he does not react to it. he moves for his cloak, sting and phial, pipe and breeches. he begins to button up his top first; slipping cloth over bruised and chafed skin. when he is dressed and armed he closes his locker, eyes his surroundings and begins to move.

perhaps you caught him before he was fully dressed, or just freshly arrived? ]

GRAVITY COUCHES

[ as he is particularly tired this jump, frodo on his way to the oxygen gardens will be taking a short breather in one of the couches, sitting as politely as possible while still being certain to find the right spot to rest his head, lid his eyes for a moment and breathe. ]

OXYGEN GARDENS

[ frodo is exhausted. it is not the same bone-deep weariness of a heavy burden (for how well does frodo baggins know of burdens that will not leave you), but nights of sleep from nightmares that this strange ship had made real. the circles under his eyes are obvious as he sits beneath the canopy of plants, of greenery and life however contained. he sits in a chair that could fit another within it, legs crossed and head leaning against the chair. for now he will catch his breath, close his eyes for a moment and think of the shire.

think of it how it ought to be and hope that perhaps next jump, he will be gone, mordor reached and perhaps that is all he can do now. simply reach the end of his quest. it is more than he imagines he can do, he begins to feel.

there is hope left, the voices of many tell him, friends no longer with him, his own heart beating in his breast. there is hope left..]

lockers!

[onsilksheets]

[She's not alone in the lockers it seems and well, Bela shouldn't be surprised by now. It was just not a good jump for her this time around and she wanted to get back to her room as soon as possible.]

You were on Strela, right?

[Bela asks of Frodo, trying to make conversation after she had retrieved her belongings.]

OTA! Action or prose, whatevs, homies.

[the_vishual]

[ Chase falls out of the tube, and she even manages to land rather gracefully. But she has plans, today--or so she thinks. She knows there are many new people aboard, knows that some have friends. Some do not. Some will most likely not have anyone else aboard their ship.

But today Chase feels.. good. Useful. So she showers and dresses not in her regular clothes, but the Tranquility uniform. She's currently at the benches, trying to dry her hair with a towel. It's hard if you have small hands and a slight amount of impatience. Hair should never be an issue, Chase thinks. There are other things to contend with, like Mr. Smiley. Not a few knots in shoulder-length locks. ]

[walksonrooftops]

[He's been on the lookout for her since her past message, after Silent Hill came and went. Because yeah, she can leave messages on the network and look unfazed and talk about endgames all she wants, but until he sees her in person to make sure she's really okay, he just won't be at ease. His own distress at the whole situation be damned.

When Asato approaches her, he's got the opposite attitude; he looks tired and weary even though he just fell out of stasis not too long ago. Still, his smile, small as it may be, is genuine, and he quickly kneels down to her level.]

Need help with that?

[Or he can just avoid that subject altogether and just be happy she's here and looking like she's feeling pretty good.]

Justin Taylor | Queer as Folk | Lockers -- OTA

[kingofbabylon]

[ When Justin emerges from the pods, he doesn't notice anything being out of place, considering no real time had passed for him when he left the Tranquility. It seemed just as much like the usual pattern after coming out of a jump - stumble around naked as you exit the grav couch, hate that sore throat feeling, fumble your way to the showers and hope you didn't get any of the blue shit in your mouth or up your nose while you try to shower it all out of your hair. He just silently hopes he won't pick up his comm device to find another incident like Hot Spur happened, or that anyone else he knows vanished.

One towel rubbing at his hair and the other around his waist, he pads over to the lockers - 006-034, the same as it's always been - and jerks at the handle. When it doesn't immediately open, he frowns, jerking at it a couple more times. Maybe he went to the wrong one? No, 006-034. It couldn't be that he forgot his number, could it? Then, he finally glances down to his forearm, and freezes as he reads the numbers: 011-195. He had missed, how many was that, three or four months?

Panic begins to set in, and Justin's head whips around frantically, scanning the faces around him, trying to pick out those familiar in the crowd. Which no one in his immediate area looked. The fear that he's come back to be completely alone begins to seep in and he starts to call out for the friends he had, ducking between the people in the crowd around him. ] Brian?! Wichita? Dave!

[uncodlyawwesome]

[When Eridan hears a familiar voice making the startling sounds of panic near his business, he almost doesn't bother to go and investigate. He hasn't seen Justin around for a few jumps now, so who even knows if it's the same Justin? He's seen that happen before, after all, and there's no point getting involved all over again with someone just because he remembered them from another... whatever, universe or something.

But, Eridan has no restraint, so instead he just storms over, cape swooshing in a very intimidating fashion, and snaps,] Don't start fuckin' panickin' noww, you wwere fine up until you fuckin' disappeared!

Nathan Petrelli - OTA

[cargojet]

[ Waking up on the grav couch felt temporarily great, almost as though he felt better than he had when he'd got into it. That should have been his first sign that something was wrong--

Well, still wrong was probably more accurate.

--the second sign should have been that when he tried to step down out of it, the floor came toward him a hell of a lot faster than Nathan expected it to. Disoriented, slipping in the blue stasis fluid, his head none the less hit the floor with a resounding crack.

So much for getting old gracefully, right? Head pounding, it was all he could do to pull himself back upright, stomach flip flopping as he managed to get his head back over his shoulders and his back against the machinery behind him. Everything hurt.

If Nathan could have seen himself, he might have been able to see the rash that crossed his cheek and disappeared down his neck, a similar burn-like rash crossing his chest, patterning his thighs. As it was, he couldn't think to be able to see, unfocused as his balance and orientation still struggled to catch up with the post-jump waking of his brain, and being slammed unceremoniously into the ground.

He felt too exhausted to get up, let alone face getting to the shower, and so he just sat still, hoping that the feeling would pass the way that it usually did. Still, he'd never felt this bad before, this nauseous, this unfocused. Something was desperately wrong. ]

[willpunchfaces]

[Francis had at least finished getting dressed when he saw Nathan still in the pod area, slumped against his grav couch. he hasn't really gotten to know Nathan, only talked to him the one time, but the guy looks like crap and it draws his attention. those marks on his skin don't go unnoticed, either

approaching cautiously, Francis crouches down a few feet from where Nathan's sitting, doing his best to keep his eyes on the other man's face]

Hey.

Toshiko Sato | OTA; prose/action both fine; pods or lockers both fine

[ex_sorted385]

[at the Pods]

When she wakes, as the instinctive panic and nausea subside, Toshiko finds herself momentarily sorry to discover that she's aboard the Tranquility still. But it passes -- she has friends here, and things to do and discover. And as she slides carefully out of the pod and leans against it until her legs feel less wobbly, she remembers that she also has one very important immediate duty to attend to.

"Auggie? Can you hear me?" She turns and peers around the pod, half-hoping to see him, half-hoping the pod next to hers is empty.


[ at the Lockers]

Tosh has showered and wrapped herself in a robe, hair done up in a towel, and headed straight for the lockers. With luck, her clothes won't have vanished and she can change and then go find someplace to just sit for a little bit, maybe have a little water, and wait for the vague sense of being ill to settle.

The clothes are there, thankfully, as well as her glasses and the photo wallet with Tommy's pictures in it. But there are a couple of additional items she wasn't expecting, and carefully she pulls first a hardcover book and then a piece of jewelry from the locker.

And promptly drops the necklace to the floor as if it burned her, stepping back with a soft gasp.

pods!

[mingus]

[ He is going to be hanging over here next to his pod, one hand braced on it and the other gripping his walking stick pretty tightly. He just sort of came out of it and is blinking a few times to shake off the disorientation. When he hears her, he gives a nod of his head and calls out. ]

Polo! Polo over here, Toshiko. Unless you're looking at me then, hey. That was definitely something.

Bardo - OTA - newbie uwu

[dwellsonthe]

[Awareness comes with the feeling of weightlessness and limbs that don't quite want to work. It’s a slick kind of movement like wading through a river, limbs too heavy and unwieldy in a foreign way. Half-moon ears flick to catch the sounds constantly rushing about the world around him but it takes more effort than it should, the air resisting in a way that it never does. But eventually the sound reaches him even if it’s distorted and warped, the whir of metal and rush of water, voices panicked and apathetic.

It's more than unfamiliar, it's something that borders on threatening and the Innkeeper blinks his eyes and bristles at the blurred scene that surrounds him. For a moment he's speechless and as the glass case surrounding him empties Bardo touches a clawed hand to it's confines. Perhaps it's old instincts that keep him from panicking just yet, or perhaps it simply the confused haze the jump has left settled heavily upon his mind. Either way, he does little more than cough as the tube jammed down his throat disengages and pulls away to leave him breathing in the stale air filling the gravcouch. It's not a long process and though he's steadfast in his desire to pull his feet underneath him and figure out just where he is, it doesn't quite work. So he's left crumpled up at the edge of his couch, ears and tail sodden and weighed down uncomfortably. But Bardo doesn't spend too long curled up in a sodden pile at the base of his Gravcouch, waits for his limbs to figure themselves out and watched the strange cats without ears or tails or claws walk past.

Just where was he?

And given a moment, he'll be on his feet and cautiously tapping strangers on the shoulder, inquiring just that.]

[walksonrooftops]

[This wasn't the best jump for Asato. Not after what happened in that strange fog, and definitely not after he and Konoe spent time in that nightmarish reflection of the forests surrounding Karou. He'd might rather forget all that, forget his mother calling his name and standing at the edge of the ravine and plummeting.

But he's got work to do, same as always. His own worries and troubles don't mean much to the newcomers, and it's just them who need the most help. So once he's out of the grav couch, he just bucks up and goes back to business as usual, albeit with a slightly more somber face, a quieter voice. Once he's done, it'll be right to Konoe, and then right to his room. And he'll just sit for a while.

The tap on his shoulder startles him and he turns, about to say something but caught with his mouth open at what he is sure must be someone like him. Ears, a tail--could be someone from another world, but it's equally possible that they're from Sisa.

Asato just closes his mouth again, frowns, and stares. He doesn't know this person, but seeing another Ribika here is just...weird.]

What is it?

Takeshi ◘ OTA!

[throwsdown]

This isn't right at all. When Takeshi emerges out of the pod, he's immediately afraid—and while, not so long ago, he would have screamed and cried in surprise, his fear is only present in the uneasiness of his rounded face. Did he get transferred? He wasn't s'pposed to be transferred. Where is everybody? Well, they're not here. They're not here, and there are people just like from the apartment, all in the same place at the same time. The ones he's arrived with are confused. He's confused, too.

Quickly he follows the crowds, ducking in and out, and anyone trying to get his attention will be met with resistance via running away. He finds that many people are looking at their arms; he looks at his too, frowning, heart beating wildly in his chest. Did he get sent somewhere to be caught? Is he in jail? Are these all aliens in disguise? Some of them look like aliens without disguises. Some of them look out of this world. Some of them make him scared, and he needs to get his suit, or else he'll die.

Muscle rider—papa, where are you? I need you.

But he has to be strong. He plays it cool, plays into the crowd. It doesn't take long for him to realize the numbers (remember, on the ball? remember how there are points? these aren't points) are his own. They're for these metal doors with their stuff inside. Like a cupboard, he thinks. So he quickly tracks his and manages to get stuff out of it; his suit! his suit! He nabs it and puts it on, and finds other stuff. He slides his normal clothes, a little too big on him, over the gantz suit. He grabs the comm and the sketch book he recognizes as his own.

And then he scrams. He'll find his dad and Reika and everyone else.

They have to be here.

I'm gonna find you all by myself, dad.

((ooc: he can be found after his suit is on trying to leave and venture the halls, and will talk with your character and even allow them to lead him around at a cautious distance, but he'll run away if they show any signs of grabbing him or otherwise trying to get him to stay with someone. ENHANCED RUNNING, always a joy to have. Anything too hostile and he might try to fight you before running.))

[justamobster]

Ladon Ceto is a lot of things. Asshole, idiot, criminal, cold-blooded creature. But he's definitely not heartless, especially where children are concerned. So while he's still coming to terms with the fact that he's woken up in this incredibly strange place and suddenly he's remembering being somewhere similar before, well. He'll take time out of his brooding to check on a kid any day. So when he spots the little boy trying to find his way through the halls, he turns and nods his head, looking concerned.

"Hey there, li'l fella. Lookin' for someone?"