ataraxionlogs | ELEVENTH WAVE

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You don't even know what you're eating?" Her tone is incredulous. How could one even do that to themselves? LB shakes her head. "You know, maybe I should drag you to one of the kitchens, feed you some instant noodles."

She chuckles a little at his response, even if it's a bit strained because dragging Murphy around was hard.

"I don't know whether to feel insulted or honored. And I didn't think anything could beat me offering to puke on the rest of your clothes."

Shut up, LB. You don't know where he's been. His life is already complicated enough without having to worry about trivial things like space brands for cakes.

And even then, the mere thought of cakes at the moment made him feel like puking all over again. The same went for instant noodles. The same also went for any food, period. "Thanks, but, uh... no thanks."

He could tell that LB wasn't having the easiest time with hauling his dead weight (or he might as well be dead weight to her). Rather than think about that wonderful time in which Murphy found himself subjected to ink vomit all over his clothes, he grumbled.

"...Y'know, here's an idea. I'm sure it'd be a lot easier to get back on my feet while I'm not in the process of bein' dragged."

"Are you sure? I don't know what it is about them, but I always feel a little better when eating instant noodles." She shrugs though, sensing that he wasn't going for it. "Maybe I'll leave a pack around for you later."

After Murphy's suggestion, she gladly lets go of his arms, bending forward to stretch her arms out. "Maybe, but I didn't think you wanted to move."

Eventually, she offers a hand toward Murphy, in order to try to hoist him back up again. "All right, try not to knock me over this time, okay?"

Or vomit either, but she keeps that to herself.

"Think I'd feel better if I could keep 'em down." At the moment, Murphy didn't feel like eating much of anything. He still felt nauseated after all the blue goop came out.

If Murphy really wanted to be honest here, he didn't want to move. Especially not willingly. Considering his position, however, and the fact that he may have overestimated LB's ability to help him, he started to wish that she had left him by the toilet. Sure, he'd be a miserable, pukey mess. At least there he was stagnant.

He started to push himself up off the ground, before taking LB's hand to make things a little easier for him, and hoped that he didn't just wind up dragging her down instead.

"I'll try." He snapped his mouth shut before another useless apology could come out.

Honestly, more and more LB was thinking to herself that she really wasn't cut out to help people like this. The next time she found someone puking in the bathroom, she was either going to turn the other way and get out of there or get her Octopus suit on immediately. Even if she wound up maybe squishing someone a little, it would at least make things easier in the future.

It was a bit of an awkward process getting Murphy up to his feet, but LB managed to do it this time, slouching forward a little so she could try to stabilize his position a little better. She hesitates before putting her arm around his back, however, because of her previous fear that she accidentally killed him. After a few seconds, though, she gingerly reaches around, able to convince herself it wasn't her fault that he fell asleep before.

"Hey, uh. If I accidentally kill you this way, just know I didn't mean it, okay?"

Murphy could say that he had been faced with a lot of concerns in his lifetime. Fears of life-threatening events that concerned everyone here on a day-by-day basis. By now it was expected.

What Murphy didn't expect was someone to apologize about killing him in advance on the way to his room today. He had no idea what LB meant by this way, and he knew that she meant well. So far, however, it had just been one thing after another and...

Well, it made him a little nervous.

Once he was up and able to move, Murphy held his hand up against the wall in order to sustain himself. "Y'know, I think I can take it from here. My room's, uh... It's not very far from here, anyway."

Actually, it was just a lift ride and then some. But it was hard trying to think up reasons to exit stage left in the smoothest way possible.

LB gives Murphy a dubious look at his suggestion. He really didn't look like he could handle it at all, judging by the way he had to brace against the wall like that. However, with the way things were going, he might actually be better off without her fail brand of "helping" too.

"You're sure?" She gives a frown while asking, obviously hesitant. "If you really think you'll be okay, I can leave you be."

Now now, don't be so harsh on yourself, LB. It's not fail-helping, it's...

Well, you tried.

In truth, Murphy really didn't think he was going to be okay. No amount of bullshit existed for him to even be capable of convincing her otherwise.

But he did want to be left to his own devices at this point. Maybe even look for Anne, if she were still around...

Ow.

"Y-Yeah, I'll be fine. Trust me." He gripped his stomach, willing himself not to puke again just to prove that he really was bullshitting her.

That motion really didn't do anything to convince LB otherwise, but she was getting the hint that he didn't really want her around, and honestly she didn't really blame him. So she smiles just a bit unnaturally and raises a hand to rub at her neck.

"All right, I'll take your word for it." A laugh passes, before she adds: "I'll leave a thing of instant noodles for you later, okay?"

Murphy really wasn't a world class actor when he needed to sound convincing. Even more so now than he ever was.

"...Okay, uh. Thanks."

Also for not killing me.

Welp. Time to hobble off to his room and hope for the best...

ELEVENTH WAVE

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