notmydiagnosis: seahorse @ insanejournal (we're all alone tonight)
Dr. Jonathan Crane (тнє ѕ¢αяє¢яσω) ([personal profile] notmydiagnosis) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2012-02-07 11:37 pm

Third Wave

CHARACTERS: E-V-E-R-Y-O-N-E
LOCATION: MED BAY
WARNINGS: Nudity. Probably swearing and all that jazz from the more crankier of the passengers.
SUMMARY: The next jump, the newest arrivals, and the same old mass confusion. Huge ol' meet and greet.
NOTES: EVERYONE tag and mingle and mingle and tag! If you've been accepted, you can post! Idea taken from the amazing [personal profile] theguidinghand, it's just the rehashing of the game premise, mmmyes.


You wake up, alone in the dark.



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.

Don't worry, 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. They will help you through your disorientation, even though they might suffer from it too.

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.
unfiltrating: (bruce is only allowed to chitchat me)

[personal profile] unfiltrating 2012-02-08 05:51 am (UTC)(link)
Why was he wet?

Why was he naked?

This felt like some kind of lab experiment hijacking thing all over again, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. His hands had padded all over the grav couch for some sign of a logo or a signature or -- SOMETHING. Man, evil geniuses could never resist slapping their names all over whatever they'd made. He could usually count on that weird pride. But the thing was just GLASS. It was EMPTY.

And he was standing in the middle of a very cold room, filled with lots of people he didn't recognize, and lots of a LOCATION he didn't recognize. In patented Batman underwear.

They weren't really under anything right now though. They were just wears.

Oh, God, he didn't have his suit, his mask, his belt. He didn't have anything. He had his skivvies and his wits, and he immediately crossed his arms, giving the room a quick once-over. Robin had left the building - for the time being, he was Dick Grayson. Terrified 13-year-old mathlete from Gotham Academy, who was in a situation that he could TOTALLY not understand.
peanutblooder: (wHA?)

[personal profile] peanutblooder 2012-02-08 06:45 am (UTC)(link)
Obviously the sight of some grey kid with giant orange bull horns hauling himself up into a wheelchair will help with Dick's shocked state. No? Well, just give Tavros a second to get situated and he'll try to reassure the poor guy. 13-year/6-sweep-olds gotta stick together.

"Uh. Hey. Hey, you're okay. No one's going to hurt you, um, or at least they didn't do that the last time."

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awakenings: (ℵ no one seems to)

[personal profile] awakenings 2012-02-08 05:54 am (UTC)(link)
Goddamn, this didn't get any easier. Maybe next time. She doesn't know. She doesn't know if she wants to wake up in these things and be used to the feeling.

It's been a hectic few days between looking out for Chase and promising her that she - they, as Capa is included - won't leave her, and upon the idea that more and more of them might disappear as time goes on. This jump, in particular, could have meant a few more losses.

First thing's first; she gets changed, fixes herself up, and gets right back in there to greet new arrivals and to make sure they're all feeling all right. It's going to be quite a process to get everyone situated, but it'll be manageable, she's sure.

She makes a mental note to check on the usuals: Capa, Chase, Kirk, Watson, Hotspur, and Kasumi. To them, she sends only one message:


From: MAYER, RE-L (001 » 115)

Still with us? Report in, please.
the_vishual: (innocent)

[personal profile] the_vishual 2012-02-08 08:17 am (UTC)(link)
Chase sees the note on her phone and doesn't text back--instead she simply finds Re-l. It's not hard to do, even among the chaos. She wishes she could say she just knows, but she simply finds the girl with the long-black hair and determined gaze and silently sidles up to her, placing her hand in Re-l's larger one.

"I'm still here."

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srslytoopretty: ([annoyed] you little bitch)

[personal profile] srslytoopretty 2012-02-08 05:57 am (UTC)(link)
Cruxis was going to remove his title of Chosen of Mana. Everything was supposed to feel so close to being done with, and yet it felt the furthest from it. Why was he even feeling guilt for these guys to begin with? They didn't care about him. Not really. Not... enough. There was nothing he could do about it now. He'd been betraying them all this time, and even if he switched sides like this what good would it do? He couldn't help them from their side. He couldn't help his sister... He couldn't even help himself.

It's at that thought that the rushing sensation of being released from the grav couches occurs, and as he gasps for air and chokes back the soreness of his throat, he realizes he had fallen asleep. When? Where was he--...

A quick glance around told him his vision was way too blurry to give him any real details, but he saw a ton of people in the same situation as he. Wet with this strange blue liquid, practically naked, and-- was that a tattoo?

"Aw man..." Yeah it definitely wasn't looking to be a good situation.

It took more than a few moments to get rid of the dizzying headache enough to stand to his feet, let along assess the situation properly. He was who knows where surrounded by a bunch of strangers. This wasn't the Tower of Salvation, any Renegade base, or even Derris Kharlan. Another long hard stare at the number and a serious frown and Zelos was ready to start investigating. It seemed clear enough that they were meant to head to the next room. The number probably meant something as well. But all of this?

Damn it, he didn't have time for this. What about the others? And Seles? What about his deal? In the crowd, it was fine to wear his rather empty expression as he moved along and headed towards the lockers. Time to find out.

Along the way, he actually won't be stopping to flirt with any hunnies like usual (unless they address him first, in which case, feel free to assume he did!), but once his clothes are back on, he's sitting in the room with the lockers staring at his communicator as he tries to sort his thoughts. At this point, he might glance over and try to get information from nearby characters, so don't be surprised if the redhead slides over with a way-too-cheerful-for-this-situation: "Yo!"
zoosmell: (pic#2128426)

[personal profile] zoosmell 2012-02-08 07:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ the fact that ashley used hunnies in a sentence makes me weep ]

Hi! Sorry, I'm just making sure I have everything, because it'd really suck if I lose stuff. I mean, it'd really suck just losing it, but Rose is really gonna be mad if I lose more stuff...

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SHE'S SO CUTE omg...

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LMAO THEY ARE

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herocomplex: leafy_icons @ LJ ([annoyed] EVERYONE'S A DICK BUT ME)

AMERICA ★ starting action, but can follow with prose.

[personal profile] herocomplex 2012-02-08 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ Sent to the couches.. again. A part of America's mind, the part that wasn't filled with spaceships and aliens and super heroes and comics and video games and liberty and freedom and hamburgers and.. you get the idea.
Anyhow, that chunk of paranoia which took up a rather good amount of his mind was being fueled. Were they really going through jumps or was something else happening every time they were sent to do this? What did the jumps look like? Sure enough, you can't really watch or you'll die. Sure, he understood that. But he was skeptical.

...But too cowardly to actually not get in the couch. So what the shit ever.

His memories aren't as scattered, and it doesn't take him long to stand on his feet once the goo leaks form his container. Huffing, he seems a bit more aggressive than usual. ]


Dicks.

Dicks.

DICKS.

[ It's not rare to hear America go on about this. And for a split second, he thinks himself to be Captain America this time; a counter act reaction from being disoriented from the jump (previously it was Batman and then Superman). However, before he can do anything too embarrassing, recent memories appear in his mind, and he's okay.

He doesn't bother getting suited up in the super awesomely cool suit thingy this time; he's too focused on gathering his things from his locker. Instantly, he begins an intelligent conversation with himself, sporting a pair of star striped boxers as he loads the gun he's been holding onto (it's always on his person, so he put it in his locker before proceeding with the jump.) ]


Oh yeah. We're going to do this ALL THE TIME, man. I love getting my hair all messy in this goop shit. It's awesome. It's the best. It's my favorite. Much like how nobody knows where we're going and what are purpose is. Yeah. That's my favorite part about this place! I mean, besides dealing with the election and... and..

[ A pause as he slips on his glasses, adjusting them. That may help him with loading something. A frown curls on his lips. ]

I... really miss home.

[ Perhaps if you're walking by you'll hear him talk to himself; or maybe you're getting stuff out of your locker too. ]
unfiltrating: (i COULD tell you that you smell)

[personal profile] unfiltrating 2012-02-08 06:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ Well, he doesn't hear the rest, but he sure as hell hears all the shouted bits. Which is enough! More than enough. There's an equally loud shout from across the room, and a mostly naked thirteen year old covered in goop and throwing his hands up into the air. ]

What!! Jeez! Who even are you?!

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spacecommander: (The whole fuckin' world's gone mad.)

[personal profile] spacecommander 2012-02-08 06:01 am (UTC)(link)
Travis doesn't remember even crawling into the pod again, let alone agreeing to it. If he was in a mood, the threat of being ripped to pieces by the jump wouldn't even have been a good enough reason.

This time, he doesn't scream once he's outside. The same feelings of confusion and discomfort are present throughout his body as last time, but the room at least looks familiar. Hazy and blurred, but familiar enough to trust.

He watches the others follow suit as he tries to catch his breath, before wandering off into the locker room.
daughteroflight: Icon by <lj site="livejournal.com" user="dreamsrundry"> (shadows jumping all over the walls)

[personal profile] daughteroflight 2012-02-08 08:09 pm (UTC)(link)
And in the locker room is a young woman in a jumpsuit and leather bomber jacket, clutching a sketchbook to her chest because Hell no is she taking any lifts anywhere before she finds her friends. So everyone who walks in gets a very hopeful, and then very disappointed, once-over.

Travis is no exception: eager glance, scowl, and then DG looks away with a muttered "Come on, guys."

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persocom: (rush)

[personal profile] persocom 2012-02-08 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
It doesn't feel right, she thinks. The events of the past day seem so far away...from the club to Hideki and to Tokyo... Everything just drifts past her in a blur. She hears that voice again from the girl who looks like her and then everything just seems to snap into place.

She jolts awake and out of the liquid, eyes opening wide. Her hair hangs in rivulets down her face, clinging to her body and successfully hiding most of her from view for the moment. The world spins sharply into focus, and then--

And then, she's aware.

She's aware of everything now, of the new surroundings and the weird feeling of cold... It's all very strange. But, most importantly, she realizes no one around her is recognizable.

"Chii?" she questions. "Hideki?"
megamind: (Interested)

[personal profile] megamind 2012-02-08 06:15 am (UTC)(link)
That is not Hideki.

That is a short man, with a very big head and blue skin. Megamind has already gotten out of his couch, cleaned up and dressed and come for the regular 'check for Minion' sweep that he did the last two times this happened. Though he still feels a little dizzy, he's still fairly sure that the girl that was just ejected from a pod was--

--Well, he's not sure what she is but those are some neat things on her head.

"Miss?" he says, crouching down where she's been dropped from the couch. "Oh man, Hideki? Chii? My Japanese is so rusty..." As in, probably unintelligible. His English isn't great either.

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hey bb what's shakin'

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nm nm, you?

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re_imagining: (pic#1810948)

[personal profile] re_imagining 2012-02-08 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
It's a flashback from the first time she'd died.

It immediately brings back memories from Caprica -- from when the time had arrived and Humanity’s Children returned to their masters and the blasts rain down their poison on billions. It sends her back to standing there, right there -- explaining everything with that calm stoicism she'd become so damn good at to Gaius--

And then the blast ripped through the house and shattered glass and splintered furniture, and Six realized that maybe she should have been a little more prepared, thought about it just a bit more--

Because it's somehow happened again and there's liquid and that sense of disorientation and not quite realizing where you are.

"Wh-Where--" Choking, gasping, desperate for air -- familiar.

Slithering out of a tube and landing on the floor of what was not a Cylon base star?

Unfamiliar.

She gets to her feet, wobbles, unbothered by her nudity but finding everything else very strange.
mortalize: (Happy!)

[personal profile] mortalize 2012-02-08 06:19 am (UTC)(link)
As someone who's gone through this process even more often than most of the people on this ship, she knows it's never going to get easier. She sputters, falling hard on her knees onto the floor -- not so graceful as Caprica, perhaps, but at least this time she isn't clutching her stomach in pain -- and trying to push herself up as quickly as possible.

She catches sight of a shock of platinum blonde hair and she can't help the way her heart leaps into her throat. She almost calls out for the woman, but the last time she called for her sisters there was no response -- does she really want that disappointment again?

Still, the woman is too familiar to be mistaken for anyone else. Once she's able to push to her feet, she makes her way over to Caprica. She does look for Nigel first, to her credit, but if it really is her -- the Six of all of them -- she has to know. She makes her way over, reaching out of the other woman.

Her voice is soft but hopeful.

"Caprica?"

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unheroic: (judging you)

#i'm sorry my oc is a dipshit

[personal profile] unheroic 2012-02-08 06:09 am (UTC)(link)
He felt his world spin a thousand ways; as he moved out of the tube. Feeling himself crawl, and search his surroundings. He was cold, wet from blue - what was that, solidified kool-aid? Oh lords, whatever it was; it was cold and wet and damp and sent a chill up his spine. Why was the ground moving? He felt like he was going to hurl.

He hasn't had hang overs this bad before. He takes a moment to orient; to search around for anything familiar. This wasn't Strife City; he didn't need to be Sherlock Fucking Holmes to get that. So where the fuck was he? Maybe he had gotten kidnapped.

Blue lift, passenger quarters, he doesn't remember getting this tattoo. Okay, think Suzrou, THINK. Where would you go - where you wouldn't remember anything the next morning, wake up with what feels like a jagermeister hang over; glowing lights; new ink and a room full of half naked people?

"I'm in vegas," he realizes.
notpanicking: (☄ [ owie ])

[personal profile] notpanicking 2012-02-08 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
"If only," a voice from not far off rasps, throat still sore from the tube that had been jammed down her throat.

"We'd be having a lot more fun if that was the case."

She's just as goopy and nude as the rest of the crowd down here, and as she pushes herself up, she tries not to snarl about it.

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walksonrooftops: (curious)

[personal profile] walksonrooftops 2012-02-08 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
Again? But it feels like they just had one.

At least Asato is adaptable. He's not happy about the jump, but he's not reacting to it quite as badly as the very first time. The implications take a moment to really register with him, but when they do, his ears--slick with stasis fluid, takes forever to get out of his fur--droop down. Not home. Not in Kira. Still trapped here.

He's stuck between wondering if he'll ever get back home, and thinking that maybe not going back would be okay. It's just a quiet, nagging little feeling, something he doesn't really like. He tries to push it away. His loyalty lies with his tribe, now and always.

The ribika shakes himself off but resists the urge to groom. Stasis fluid tastes absolutely foul. Instead he pulls on his jumpsuit again and heads for his locker where--oh.

Something in here smells really good. He opens up the nondescript little bag and--

"Kuims!"

Delicious, delicious kuim nuts. Quite a lot of them, too! Someone's day just got a little bit better. He grabs the bag and heads to the blue lift once more, keeping an eye out for unfamiliar faces.
unheroic: (oh fuck fuck fucccck)

[personal profile] unheroic 2012-02-08 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
Oh god. No. He cannot do this; he is wet with goo and he can barely manage walking without feeling the need to upchuck. Why is that thing there. Where was his knife? Or any sort of weaponry. He was still looking for his locker; so he didn't need to deal with a fucking Cat Demon of all things. He approaches, alert as he's on his way to the blue lift. His fists clenched to punch just in case things get out of hand. Still; there was that possibility that the person was innocent.

He'll tap Asato on the shoulder, offer a pleasant smile. "Cosplay or Hellspawn?

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scratched: ⚙ c a w a i i (pic#2091015)

[personal profile] scratched 2012-02-08 06:15 am (UTC)(link)
[In situations such as being spat out nearly naked from freaky space birth machines, the only logical course of action for a truly professional cool kid is to act like you are definitely an old pro at this (since you clearly are after three times already, which is obviously the pro-leagues level of space junk floating and ejecting) and scoff at anyone who doesn't have your expertise on underpants med-bay diving. Shit son, it's getting practically Olympic up in here.

After a perfect triple axel incredibly awesome landing out of the grav couch right onto his ass, he immediately makes a bee-line for the lockers intent on getting dem shades on his face as fast as possible while attempting to look utterly unphased - which is difficult considering lingering off-kilter haze that always sticks after a jump. Though you might manage to catch him on the way there, because stumbling around disoriented while also trying to hide your eyes doesn't make a swan of the best of us.
]
peanutblooder: (}:T)

[personal profile] peanutblooder 2012-02-08 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
[Good luck leaping over Toolvros here, who is scooting his goop-covered hide straight to where the wheelchairs were stored.]

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peanutblooder: (hOLY SHIT WHY AM i DOWN HERE WHAT)

[personal profile] peanutblooder 2012-02-08 06:24 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh. This again. Tavros finds himself on the floor covered in goo (underoos present thank troll Jeegus) and disoriented, once again. It's a new experience, disorientation-based deja-vu, but hey, there's not much he can do about it right now other than lay here, catch his breath, and try to figure out why he knows what's going on.

Oh, hey. His legs don't work.]


Oh. Right.

[Rolling onto his stomach, Tavros orients himself to where the wheelchairs are stored and starts G.I.-crawling toward them. No way he's making it to the lockers in his present state of immobility.
walksonrooftops: (ah?)

[personal profile] walksonrooftops 2012-02-08 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
Ah--

[Asato stops and sets his belongings down, leaning over a little so he can look at Tavros. He's already offering one hand to him, a gesture to show he's willing to help pick him up or carry him. Anything to keep this boy from dragging himself across the floor all miserably like that.]

Where are you going? Which way?

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ohcanada: (█♥█ holy fuck on a stick)

[personal profile] ohcanada 2012-02-08 06:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ He swears he fell asleep in a bed in an apartment in Ottawa. Waking up and seeing blue, blue, blue is very disorienting, and when the fluid rushes out - the tube in his throat retracting - Canada falls out with an all together graceful flop. ]

Ughhh... [ He rubs at his head, closing his eyes as he tries to collect himself off of the floor, rubbing his nose, his eyes of the remaining liquid. He drearily opens them again, blinks once, and glances at his surroundings. He only barely realizes his nudity, and realizes that people are around him - and for a moment his modesty gets the best of him, his hand coming down to cover himself. Agh. What is even happening? He's... he doesn't feel right, not even a little, and he panics visibly, looking at the unfamiliar surroundings. His eyes catch the gravity couch beside him, containing a very familiar looking polar bear -- ]

Kumajirou...[ He blinks, rubbing his eyes. No, that is the bear he knows, and he runs to the other device, trying to figure out a way to get it open. Enough pressing of buttons, and he manages to get the snowy white bear free, the fluid rushing out just as it had for himself. ]

[ He glances around - now what? ]
za_rodina: (so cold)

[personal profile] za_rodina 2012-02-08 08:13 am (UTC)(link)
[The first time in the gravity couches wasn't pleasant, and the second time around isn't much better, but after the disorientation fades a bit Russia's up and attempting to stride out of the med-bay and to his locker, might as well get this over with.

Which is when he sees a familiar blonde nation and bear. For a moment he's confused, unsure if America is just messing with him (again) but he's more than certain after a moment that Canada is actually there. He's heading over before he even realizes it.]


Canada.

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circumitus: (skeptical fry squint)

[personal profile] circumitus 2012-02-08 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
Rey hadn't been doing too good these past few days.

This wasn't making matters any easier.

Disgusted, nauseated, she felt herself rise from the gravity couch with a splitting migraine and sore muscles. All over again.

Around and around in a cycle of repetition.

It all seemed strangely familiar somehow. Like déjà vu... if that term even meant anything to her. All she could tell was that her head swam in a sea of thoughts and daydreams and song while she lay, mostly naked and curled up over the floor for several minutes that felt like lifetimes. Her hands came over her head as the humming played on, as if a recording was going, and her eyes were burning, and her skin was melting and she would have SCREAMED if not for the stifling chokes that built up in her throat.

Reason told her that this time was no different. But this time was strangely more unpleasant than the previous experiences.

This time... she felt like she was about to vomit.
widowing: (Default)

this is a placeholder, i apologize

[personal profile] widowing 2012-02-08 07:20 am (UTC)(link)
Natasha's not faring much better now than she has the previous two times they've gone through this, but she at least knows her first course of action. Showering away the stasis goo had done a world of good in helping clear her head and ebb away the nausea last time, so her goal is to head there first.

Once she can push herself off of the floor.

It takes her a few minutes (about fifteen by her own estimation) but she manages, wobbling a bit as she gets to her feet. Before long she spots another on the floor, a woman, who looks as if she's faring even worse. Natasha thinks she recognizes her as someone who's been on the ship for a while, and someone she's encountered in other places, but can't place her name at the moment.

It doesn't matter, what does is that it looks like she needs help.

"Hey," she croaks out, her own voice sounding foreign to her ears. She swallows hard several times as she makes her way to where the woman is curled up. She gets to her knees - gingerly, to avoid injury, but not particularly graceful - and places a hand on her shoulder. "Do you need a doctor?"

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sorry this is late!

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longlashes: (my world is falling apart)

[personal profile] longlashes 2012-02-08 06:36 am (UTC)(link)
Jeremy is used to nightmares. It's a sad state of affairs, but when it gets right down to it, he never has a good night's rest in his stepfather's house. He's assaulted and then haunted by shadows deep into the night, he tosses and turns, he sweats, he's awakened by the slightest noise. So when he's jarred from an uncommonly deep sleep, awakened with something shoved down deep in his throat his first thought is that he is still at home, and once he is a little more coherent, that this the hell of his nightmares with a new coat of paint. Usually he dreams of being dirty, yet this is a clinical place, he is surrounded by machines. How could his mind come up with something like this? It was like something out of Saturday morning cartoon.

He stumbles once the gravity couch frees him, unable to really process the details of his situation to any satisfaction.

What is this place? A hospital? Not like any hospital I've ever seen...

Jeremy only gawks at the other people in the room for half a second before realizing he is naked in a room full of stranger. The shock is too much to bear.

His legs can no longer hold his weight. He crumples to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, rocking slightly. His breath comes in panicked, shallow pants, and try as he might he can't seem to calm them. Maybe he's having a heart attack. Something like that. He can hardly breathe.

His thoughts are rushing and spinning at a nearly incoherent speed. They'll see, they'll see, they'll see! The scars on his back and on his wrists, those things he tried so hard to conceal. The exposure of them is beyond humiliating, and worse, what if someone asks him about them?

In spite of all his questions, Jeremy can't find a voice to speak or vocalize his anguish. He cannot seem to ask anyone what is going on, or even cry out loud. He is near paralyzed. Tears fill his eyes, and run down his pale cheeks freely.

Please, no one see me. Please...

People are starting to file out of the room. Maybe he can make some kind of escape when everyone else has left. Assuming he can stand. And breathe. And not die from shock right here and now.

[personal profile] tenthousandyears 2012-02-08 07:43 am (UTC)(link)
One person sees, if the term can be applied. And soon enough there is a military style jacket being draped over Jeremy's shoulders from behind. Japan remembers how frightening it was to wake up like this. It's still rather frightening isn't it... These "jumps" are far more than she can understand at this time, but apparently they're more dangerous than they first appear.

That's neither here nor there though. As a Japanese woman there's one thing she simply must do here! Despite the unsettling situation and the goo still dripping from her hair. And that is: smile.

"Welcome to Tranquility."

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monkeytailed: (Game. Over. Great job.)

[personal profile] monkeytailed 2012-02-08 06:39 am (UTC)(link)
It had been, and was continuing to be a very long day.

Zidane's day so far: woke up in the Black Mage Village. Hacked his way through dragons, through elemental fiends, through monsters of all type. He had then defeated his stupid brother, and then defeated Necron which...still kind of confused him. And on top of that he ran into the Iifa Tree as it went berserk and proceeded to dodge roots. And the last thing he remembered was the roots rushing at him as everything went black.

And now he was somewhere else.

And obviously unsteady on his feet for 'I chugged down two elixirs before running back into the Iifa Tree but it still was a long and tiring day' reasons and so as the pods opened up and Zidane stumbled out he was unsteady on his feet, but caught himself on the nearest thing...or person...before he actually fell.
ohcanada: (█♥█ hey you noticed)

[personal profile] ohcanada 2012-02-08 06:47 am (UTC)(link)
Canada hadn't expected to be grabbed nearly as soon as he'd awoken out of the tubes, his balance already a little unstable. He sort of - trips as Zidane falls over him, but still manages to stay upright this time, blinking towards the other person. "Ah, I'm very sorry!"

He sort of rubs the back of his head, staring at the other man for a moment, before inquiring: "Are you alright?"

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the_crowing: (-=‡sitting‡=-)

[personal profile] the_crowing 2012-02-08 06:41 am (UTC)(link)
It wasn't easy the first time and the second wasn't getting any better. Perhaps it was the tube he hated the most, or the being dropped like dead weight to the floor that really bothered him. Either way, the disorientation and blurred vision didn't scare him as much this time around. The new location didn't bother him either.

This time he knew what was going on, so it helped.

People were popping up all over the place, which happened the time before as well. This time he wasn't one of the new people though. This time he knew where he was going.

Stumbling his way to the lockers, he wanted to find his things as fast as possible. Finding his locker and pulling the suit out he started to get dressed again, finding his gun and pictures, everything he keeps safe to be there and safe for him. Good.

There was something inside him that was glad to be here still. Glad that he hadn't been sent home. Home was a dirty sewer home, alone and on the run. Here was... well he kept to himself for the most part, but here was clean and somewhat safe.

He kept to himself but he wasn't... alone. That fact was something he liked a lot.

From the lockers he dressed, pulling his coat over the uniform and slinging his bag over a shoulder. He kept everything he could with him. Wandering back to the grav-units he thought perhaps he could... look around. Help someone else. That would be good.

He also thought about Chase. As much as she scared him the month before... he felt the need to try to look out for her, as silly as that was considering how many nannies she seemed to have on this ship. Still, he wanted to make sure she was alright too.

He will be walking around here and there, so feel free to say something.
madmaninabox: (errrum)

[personal profile] madmaninabox 2012-02-08 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor was by his locker, adjusting his bow tie with a concentrated expression. He'd forced himself to move quickly after his expulsion from the grav couch, swallowed back the nausea, stayed firm in his belief that no, the room was not, in fact, spinning. It had always been relatively easy for him, but he was determined to make it more so. Needed to up and about and available to help - else what was the point?

He spotted Claudio coming out of his peripheral vision and gave him a smile.

"Good morning!" He spun around to face the young man, and paused in a second of reconsideration. "Or perhaps I ought to say Good Grav Couching. Not technically morning, not when you haven't got a sun."

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totallyhisniece: (collective IQ. YOU ARE LOWERING IT)

[personal profile] totallyhisniece 2012-02-08 06:43 am (UTC)(link)
Covered.

In.

Goo.

She is covered. In goo. Head to toe, goo. Goo in places there should never under any circumstances be goo. The tube? Who cares. Randomly in her underwear in front of strangers? She'll live. Her missing bow is slightly more worrying but she'll get to that later.

But no amount of shampoo in the world is going to get all this gunk out of her hair and she's going to kill someone for that. Her hands go to her hips and she has to hold in a scream of annoyance.

"Alright, what gives?! Do you know how long this is going to take to wash out?!"
zoosmell: (pic#2006282)

[personal profile] zoosmell 2012-02-08 08:23 am (UTC)(link)
"Probably a really long time," he said cheerfully, because he didn't know as much about time as Dave. But he still played with the lumps of goo in his hand, sloshing it around between his fingers.

"Don't you think it kinda maybe looks like that thing that ghosts explode into? We could all be covered in ghost slime." This thought pleased him more than it should please anybody.
consulting: (➡ watching)

BRACKETS OR PROSE B)

[personal profile] consulting 2012-02-08 06:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ Sherlock groaned at the fact this was becoming a monthly event. He had mentally tried to prepare for this when he knew it was approaching. By that, he meant his usual pre-jump half a pack. This time, he remembered to pack a towel in his locker.

[ Soundlessly and wordlessly made his way to the lockers to suit up. Pushing and shoving past people; in a foul post stasis-fluid mood. He felt sick as he dried himself out. He dries up a bit; although with portions of blue goo still clings into his hair. He'd have to investigate the remaining people. Hoping and sincerely wishing that James Moriarty wasn't in their midsts.]

[ He makes a move to stand on one of the benches in the locker room. Towel draped over shoulders to see new arrivals. When he sees a familiar face or two; he cups his hands over his mouth to 'amplify his voice' ]


Fancy a smoke?

[ It was an in general open invitation; necessary after jumps. Plus, it was a nice weigh to gauge so much about the new members on board (ie if they were in possession of cigarettes) ]
Edited 2012-02-08 07:01 (UTC)
statsraaden: (lol)

Re: BRACKETS OR PROSE B)

[personal profile] statsraaden 2012-02-08 01:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, Sherlock was still here. Looking even worse than usual after the jump. Stats was torn between greeting him and asking what's wrong, and not bothering him until he was feeling better.

Oh well.

"Hello, Sherlock! No, I'm afraid I don't smoke, but if I may join you for a while?"

Better ask first.

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Which do you prefer?

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/busts her brackets cherry

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/TAKES BRACKET VIRGINITY

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be gentle, it's my first time~

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HI SHERLOCK HI.

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sweetmotherofgod: (Betty Finn was a true friend)

mistaken identity shenanigans?

[personal profile] sweetmotherofgod 2012-02-08 08:34 am (UTC)(link)
Freed of the worst of the goop, Heather made a beeline for the lockers. If you'd asked her a month ago whether she'd ever be anxious to get into a jumpsuit she'd have laughed right in your face, but life's full of little surprises. In her experience, usually crappy ones.

The feeling was solidified when she spotted the other person near the lockers. Okay, so, appearing in her underwear in front of anybody had never been on Heather's top ten list of Totally Awesome Times, but people she maybe nursed a tiiiiny crush on? Even less fun. Hey, it wasn't her fault. There was only so much a girl could do when faced with cheekbones that could give you a papercut.

"A bunch of you people told me the second time would be easier," she said, her tone wry and joking. "You're liars."

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barkstabbark: (⚛ knife's edge)

[personal profile] barkstabbark 2012-02-08 07:30 am (UTC)(link)
The headaches were getting worse, but the ring still did the trick. Still, stumbling his way to the lockers wasn't fun. There was a buzzing in the back of his head that wouldn't go away, but at least he could think again. He could ignore it. It wasn't important. Maybe another stupid side-effect of the gravity couches. Whatever.

With his ring back in place, he found his usual corner and... did the same shit as always. Not like he had much of a fucking choice. He just had to keep hoping someone would show up, anyone, any fucking person at all from the facility. Preferably not someone he hated, but if they had a collar on, he wouldn't complain.

Unless it was Asura. Fuck that guy.

So this meant more standing in a corner and staring at people, dripping goo on the floor, and generally being a bit of a creeper. Nothing new here. Just a cranky-looking abomination of animals.
uncodlyawwesome: (its a talent i alwways havve possessed)

[personal profile] uncodlyawwesome 2012-02-08 10:14 am (UTC)(link)
Eridan had gone through the motions by now, finding his locker, his glasses and his jumpsuit (UGH) before even thinking of addressing any of the people milling around. He hadn't seen anyone he'd recognized that hadn't already been here - and he knew that the people who were used to this didn't want to talk to him, so there was no use trying to engage them in conversation.

With a sigh and an indecent amount of scarf-fiddling, Eridan took towards stalking towards the exit of the medbay. There was no point in sticking around when nobody really wanted him there.

Of course, though, as soon as he saw Jack being a creepy stalker in the corner, he decided he might as well give someone a hello. Just so someone knew he was around, and that he hadn't disappeared between the jumps. (Not that anyone would care.)

"Do you alwways try to be fuckin' creepy, or is this some kind'a default for you?"

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[personal profile] tenthousandyears 2012-02-08 07:49 am (UTC)(link)
Japan had prepared for this. She has towels. A stack of them. ...This is certainly not a hint on her intentions towards the laundry room on deck 251. Most assuredly. Ahem.

But she's willing to give a towel to anyone who asks and of course behind her is a very intricate map of... well how to get to one's proper deck and locate one's room as well as the nearest kitchen. It's a very complicated ship, she can't map all of it. Not yet at least, give it another jump or two.

But yes, if one is looking for a friendly smile this is surely the place to go!
cave_johnson: (Tattered hats? Beard dirt?)

[personal profile] cave_johnson 2012-02-08 08:11 am (UTC)(link)
Once, twice, third time was the charm... right? No, not really. Cave slid out of the grav couch no different than the other times; disorientated, covered in goop and ambling on the floor like a newborn fawn with a groan.

"Caroline?" He rasped, then coughed. Vocal chords and lungs still worked, but could definitely use a tune-up. "Caroline?" He called again, louder.

"If we were testing for memory loss on that last one, we got that right. I can't remember a..." He trailed off, stopped mid-speech by overwhelming deja vu. Memory served him a little better as he found his surroundings familiar.

"...Oh right, all this again." No better time to talk out loud to himself than any time, clothed or not.

"Wheatley, if you're within earshot, you'd better put some damn pants on this time. Now I know imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, but it has been scientifically proven that you are physically incapable of certain things, and that is one of 'em. There's only room for one Cave Johnson here."

At least the man was making his way in the general direction of his locker, and subsequently his pants (but only subsequently). That way... right?

"Cave Johnson and Cave Johnson's pants..."

Right.
functioningperfectly: (just don't forget me and walk away)

[personal profile] functioningperfectly 2012-02-08 09:04 am (UTC)(link)
HAL was dealing significantly better with his deja vu than one would expect, given the fact that he was unaccustomed to being human long enough to be really accustomed to the memory loss one got with these jumps.

Still, it came back to him relatively quickly; enough so that he kne Cave Johnson's voice when he heard it, as well as the name he called. He made a slow but persistent beeline for the man, lifting a hand.

"Mr. Johnson?"

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sweetmotherofgod: (Betty Finn was a true friend)

prose? brackets? love it all!

[personal profile] sweetmotherofgod 2012-02-08 08:13 am (UTC)(link)
[Heather hauls herself up off the floor and uses her hands to splat the worst of the blue goo straight back onto it, scowling even as she gags with residual dizziness and the invasive, lingering feeling of the breathing tube. You'd think it's be easier the second time but damn, she really hates this shit. Assholes who made this ship have the technology to rip people through time and space and, from what she can tell, different realities, but they can't have them wake up in bed? Or clothed? Jerks.]

God damn it!
Edited 2012-02-08 08:16 (UTC)
the_vishual: (young)

[personal profile] the_vishual 2012-02-08 09:12 am (UTC)(link)
It's quite irritating.

[ Chase is next to her--she's taken a small break from clinging to Re-l, or rather, she spotted Heather and quickly flitted over to her. She's got the jumpsuit on herself, hair down and still wet. ]

I wish I could say it gets better, but so far it hasn't.

chaseface! <3

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#NON MEME TAG LET ME LOVE YOU

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DON'T PULL OUT A KNIFE.

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testability: (☢ i'm not even angry)

[personal profile] testability 2012-02-08 08:45 am (UTC)(link)
[If anyone stands out it might be this woman here. After being released she has simply stood there with a passive look on her features, someone for one who's not looking scared or confused. With porcelain skin ranging near white and blacken out eyes with bright yellow glowing irises.. was she even human?

Chances are she may have passed a cold gaze briefly in your direction as she gathers her thoughts upon rebooting. It's a quick moment that she may not have realized herself. Her gaze is now on the tattoo, fingers drifting over before she's stretching out that hand and not even caring that she's nude or anything.

Finally her mouth opens and a rather computerized voice sounds out with a exasperated sigh.]


You have got to be kidding me.
statsraaden: (yeah right)

[personal profile] statsraaden 2012-02-08 01:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, a young lady from what looked like a species Stats didn't know. This sparked his curiosity. He wanted to know where she was from; perhaps he would learn interesting things along the way.

He came closer to greet her and welcome her to the place, better establish good relationships from the start, when she spoke with this strange voice. Stats couldn't figure out if she was talking to him or, most likely, to herself.

"I beg your pardon?"

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dissenter: (jesus.)

[personal profile] dissenter 2012-02-08 01:24 pm (UTC)(link)
He couldn't remember exactly what he was doing before he was stuffed in a tube with something down his throat, but Qilby had a hunch it had nothing to do with his present situation.

So this is what it feels like. The thought came unbidden, unfamiliar, as if someone else had thought it. What kind of question was that? And, too, he felt as if there should be something he should be doing, something he could do, to get him far, far away from here where things made more sense -- but it remained tauntingly at the edge of his thoughts just outside his grasp. Groaning, he put his hand to his head.

... Where did his hat go? His other arm, no, that wasn't new (even if he couldn't remember how exactly he came to be left with only one) but the hat, this was important. Qilby then quickly asserted that the reason he was so cold was because -- surprise! -- the rest of his clothing was also missing.

Mind like a steel trap, albeit one that'd been soaking in a couch full of Goddess-knows-what, anyway.

It was lucky there was no one around to see the king (right... he was a king, wasn't he?) in his un-hatted state, and even luckier that said hat seemed to be right next door, along with the rest of his clothing and a small cube. He gave it a once over, squinting. It was probably important. Qilby could only trust that he'd remember later.

By the time he got himself properly dressed, it seemed more people were beginning to arrive. It seems their first waking moments would be of a tall, old man in a giant hat staring at them, open-mouthed and awkward. Lucky them.
zoosmell: (pic#2006326)

[personal profile] zoosmell 2012-02-08 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
John was always tactful, so he administrated his tactfulness with the fullest tact.

"You're being really creepy." He delivered those suave lines with all the apparent kindness and thoughtfulness of someone who was thirteen, young, and seemingly uncaring about being in the middle of space on a floating metal machine that was still large enough to flabbergast the average modern thinker of his time. He put his hand over his mouth for a second, covering his buck teeth to give a little laugh at his own private joke, but in another moment he was by his side with an open expression.

"After you stop being creepy," he told the creepy guy, "Are you looking for something? Or someone? I can help, because I've been here for... not that long, but long enough! I guess!" His expertise of being here for days longer glowed with pride.

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