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

[nobrakes]

[Wilee's pretty much tuned her out by now, sorry. Kid's got a one track mind sometimes. He's worried about shit he can't do anything about and it's not cool at all.

He slams the locker door shut with a force that travels back through his injured arm and to his ribs and has him bending over in pain again.]

Shiiiit...

[talkstoengines]

[Yeah, she's getting a little annoyed and is about to wander off for that shower her - this guy is worse than Simon, that's for sure, but then he doubles over in pain again and Kaylee is right there]

Whoa, there, take it easy. Sit yourself down now, okay? Your stuff is there, just like I said. C'mon. You'll feel better once Simon patches you up.

[nobrakes]

[Okay, even Wilee knows when he needs to give in and he nods to Kaylee, shuffling to a nearby bench.]

Who's Simon?

[talkstoengines]

Friend of mine. [She perches down next to him, happy to explain while he gets his bearings again and focuses on breathing.] He's a doctor, a trauma surgeon really, but he joined our crew a while back as medic. He's real good at what he does, don't you worry.

[nobrakes]

He got aspirin?

[Wilee, you're going to need more than just aspirin for those ribs of yours.]

[talkstoengines]

He'll give you somethin' for the pain, I'm sure. And, you know. Stop the bleedin'.

[nobrakes]

Then what are we waiting for?

[For you to stop bullshitting around, Wilee.]

[talkstoengines]

For you to be able to stand without throwin' up?

[nobrakes]

I'm not gonna throw up.

[talkstoengines]

You already did. Twice. [Just sayin'.] C'mon.

[nobrakes]

I meant now. [Is he pouting? Maybe.]

[talkstoengines]

[Aw, okay, Wilee, here, have a pat on the shoulder as she grips your elbow.] C'mon, handsome, let's get you cleaned up.

[nobrakes]

Handsome? You should see me when I'm not bleeding.

[And then, AND THEN, he has the nerve to smile. A shaky one, but a smile nonetheless.]

[talkstoengines]

Hopefully, I will. [Success! She got him to smile. Kaylee has done her good deed for the day.]

[nobrakes]

If you're not too slow in finding this guy you keep talking about.

[talkstoengines]

You're the one who just had to rush right over here and check on your precious bike, instead 'a gettin' your ribs checked out.

[nobrakes]

And now I'm done checking on my precious bike and we're still not at this guy.

[How does he manage to troll and tease with these nasty bruises no one knows.]

[talkstoengines]

That's 'cause you talk too damn much, mister. [Oh, look, here's medbay. See? Wasn't so bad.]

[nobrakes]

[No, not really. The bleeding's stop and the nausea's passed, but he still could stand to be checked out.]

Well, you listened so you can't complain now.

[talkstoengines]

You can talk and move at the same time, too, I see. [She grins a little.]