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

[testgasm]

"Did you--did you remember anything? From here? While you were home?"

It was the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since Topher told him that people went home and forgot everything about the Tranquility, remembering only if they returned. The fact that she did remember him was relieving, in a way, because Wheatley wasn't entirely keen on explaining the whole "this very recognizable voice is coming out of a squishy ginger human" thing again, but he hadn't anticipated just how awkward it was, for her to be back.

Mixed feelings was probably an understatement.

"I was home, too, sort of," he began, stepping into the shower after her and calling over the top of the stall as he scrubbed the stasis fluid from his hair as quickly as possible (because ugh, water). "I mean, I didn't--I didn't have my body back, but…it was home."

Wheatley wasn't exactly sure this was something he should be telling Chell--he certainly wasn't going to admit the things he did while home. And it still felt odd calling Aperture by such a title, but it had been the only place he'd ever really known.

"Some kind of--of mass hallucination, was the final verdict."

[mutelunatic]

There was a shake of the head after his question has sunk in and she thought back to what had felt like a week back home. No. She didn't remember anything about the Tranquility. It wasn't until she found herself waking up in the gravity couch that she remembered, and it was as though she had never forgotten.

She rubbed her forehead, squinting her eyes against the florescent light of the bathroom as she heard the shower turn back on. She was lingering, and she didn't know why she was lingering. She finished drying off and tugged on her underwear, pretending not to pay attention to what the moron was saying despite...this actually piquing her interest.

By now Chell would have left: leave him talking to an empty room for all she cared. But apparently months had passed since she had been on the ship, and while Wheatley was essentially repeating what Topher had told her she was still curious.

She stared at the stall, not responding (as to be expected, of course, how many times do I feel the need to repeat myself), but quietly piecing together what he was saying, matching it to what she had heard earlier. She wanted to see if, maybe, Wheatley had learned something. Maybe he'd actually tell her what she thought had happened instead of dancing around the truth like the idiot he is.

But that would be having high expectations for someone who didn't deserve an ounce of it. He was just a ball of continuous disappointment.

[testgasm]

Wheatley was out of the shower almost as quickly as he was in it, a testament to how much he still disliked water. He all but hopped out of the stall and followed after Chell, dripping wet, stray soap bubbles still clinging to his hair.

"We were sort of exploring that theory, the 'go-home-and-forget-everything' theory, so it is sort of useful in that department, that you've gone and come back. Solves a lot of the mystery, right there."

He still wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility of one day waking up in his body, drifting aimlessly in space, remembering nothing of the Tranquility, or hands or being human, so he pushed it to the back of his mind and focused instead on the situation at hand. Wheatley grabbed a towel and did his best to dry himself and keep pace at the same time.

"Anyway, the mass...shared...hallucination, thing is the--is the only major thing you've missed. We've had some people die, those sorts of unfortunate mishaps, but that's about...all."

[mutelunatic]

He continued to talk. And talk. And as he talked Chell tugged on a sports bra...dressed, for the time being. She was tired, she wanted to go to sleep, but if she left she knew he'd follow. And, knowing him, he would follow her right back to her room and for once, he didn't know where she was.

A new number meant a new room, and she was doing her best keeping her tattooed arm out of sight, which is relatively easy when the person you're talking to relied on glasses to see. At the mention of people dying, however, Chell gave him a look. She jerked a finger toward him, pointing.

You. You died. She heard it from not one, but two people. Well...from one person and GLaDOS.

[testgasm]

It took him a moment to understand what, exactly, Chell meant with the forceful jab in his direction, and he stopped short, trying to parse the meaning. He had to backtrack in his own mind, thinking of the last thing he'd said.

Oh.

Wheatley laughed, nervously, pretending to not quite get what she was trying to tell him.

"What, me? Obviously not dead, here right now. Not sure what--what you mean."

[mutelunatic]

She wasn't buying it, and her face grew serious, suspicious. While GLaDOS lied about, well, a lot of things, the way I'm assuming the former robot had told Chell about her death...

Well...

What would GLaDOS gain from lying about that?

Chell shook her head, pointing at him once again and crossing her arms. Her eyes were narrowed, staring him down. You know very well what she meant, and that nervous laugh only proved it.

[testgasm]

She definitely wasn't going to let this one go. He frowned, pausing, trying to figure out the best way to approach the situation. How did she know? GLaDOS must have beaten him to her, gloating about what had happened in his imagined Aperture.

Though it was slightly embarrassing, it meant he knew something She didn't--which gave him a bit of an upper hand on Her, as far as that was concerned. If She didn't know he was alive...

But for Wheatley, in this moment, it was neither here nor there.

"Uh, well, Sherlock drowned in the pool. Awkward all around, that one. Then She tried to kill Topher, you know, Topher Brink, sort of--twitchy blonde in the sweater vest, you've seen him. Had a go at me, too, in the event you were at all doubting her continued murderous tendencies."