seventeenth jump;

[mathematically]

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

hay gurl hay

[testgasm]

[Wheatley, on the other hand, is incredibly preoccupied with his rubik's cube when he catches the flash of orange in her periphery. Chell leaving and coming back and leaving again, only to turn up completely fine, whether she'd been exploring the depths of the ship or inexplicably returned home.

It's a comfortable constant, even if he has mixed feelings about Chell's presence on the ship in general, but coexistence has seemed to work well, except when she gets in a mood.

Which is often.]

Hey--!

[He springs to his feet and leans over the booth, raising his hand partly in greeting, partly to get her attention. The motion is almost involuntary, at this point, a knee-jerk response to seeing her back.]

Oi, lady!

[toomuchtenacity]

[She knows that voice and she turns quickly. Instinctively clutching the portal gun in her hands and trying to find the location of the personality core....]


[Wait. What?....]

[Why does that human sound like him....]

[Is this some kind of trick?]

[testgasm]

[Definitely a trick. The weirdo who's leaning over the booth with his hand in the air seems just a little too excited for his own good, as if he doesn't quite know how to dial down the facial expression.

She looks a little bewildered--the jump will do that to a person, so he keeps his distance slightly, climbing down from his chair and moving out from behind the booth in an effort to reduce the general awkwardness of the whole situation.]

Thought you'd gone. Did you--did you wander off this time, or were you home again?

[toomuchtenacity]

[.....What the....]

[Well it sounds like him. But how is that even possible.]

[Wait if he was here, did that mean she was here too? But that made even less sense and...]

[Nope, still just thinking it over and not saying a word to you. Human or not, that voice is enough that it wont get an answer. Just staring trying to figure out what exactly is going on.]

[testgasm]

[Wheatley is more than accustomed to receiving no response whatsoever, but that doesn't mean it's any less aggravating. He's still, of course, under the impression that she remembers being on the ship, and manages to look equal parts bewildered and slightly aggravated.]

I mean, you could--you know--nod, or something. Shake your head no, if you--if you did not, in fact, go home. Plenty of gestures. You could give me a thumbs up, even! For yes. I do know you're functional in that regard.

[toomuchtenacity]

[Well it does sound like him. The last time she heard that voice was when it was yelling at her to catch him, and before that, to let go and die in space so he wouldn't. And let's not even get into the stream of insults before that.]

[Okay you're human ...looking for some reason but it's still 'good old' insulting Wheatley. Well here's a gesture for you then.]

[She keeps the Portal gun in one hand but gets a hand free, which she pulls into a fist.]

[Enjoy the punch to the face Wheatley.]

[testgasm]

[In his time on the Tranquility, Wheatley's received enough punches to the face to know when one is coming. That does not, however, mean that he knows how to stop it, and he takes the blow straight on, head snapping to the side as he shouts and the force bowls him over.

He is really, really sick of this.]

GAH--

[It takes him a moment to blink the stars from his vision and straighten, any pretense of friendliness gone from his face.]

Got that out of your system?

[He coughs and staggers a few steps back, out of her reach, rubbing the corner of his mouth as he feels the place where he bit down just a little too hard.]

I suppose you've got no intention of telling me what that was for. I don't understand what your bloody problem is, lady, we agreed on coexistence! I'm perfectly willing to act like a civilized person, but not if you insist on using me as your personal punching bag for no reason! I'll call security on you, don't think I won't.

[toomuchtenacity]

[Chell smirks at first but then frowns as he continues. What do you think that was for?]

[She simply points at the Aperture jumpsuit she still has tied to her waist. How about you trying to kill her? She figures that earns you a punch or two.]

[testgasm]

Yes, congratulations, you've put your clothes on.

[He's only half paying attention, now, pulling his communicator out of his pocket and poking at it with his index finger, clearly typing out sort of message.]

Getting a little tired of the fake-y pretend mute thing, Chell.

[He says it cooly, focus still on his communicator, putting the emphasis on her name to remind her that he knows it, that this very important piece of information is his to say whenever he wants. He turns the device around to show her that there's text on it.]

This? Message to security. Someone'll get here in two seconds flat, with all the people about. Hit me again and I'll send it.

[It's a challenge, almost.]

If you think you can just waltz about this ship doing whatever you like, you're wrong.

[toomuchtenacity]

[The name almost makes her freeze. Almost. Before she remembers he was in charge of the entire facility for a short period of time. Looking up her name seems like something he'd do.

She just rolls her eyes.

She would like to call him a moron. But even that would give him the satisfaction of hearing her talk. So she remains tight lipped.]

[testgasm]

[Having made his point (or so he hopes), Wheatley moves back behind the booth, placing the communicator down on the tabletop and straightening his glasses.]

Thought you'd have gotten it through your head by now. I mind my business, you mind yours.