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

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.