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ataraxionlogs2013-05-07 11:13 pm
mathematically) wrote in ataraxionlogs2013-05-07 11:13 pm
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- agent texas,
- agent washington,
- agent york,
- alex shepherd,
- alex summers | au,
- am,
- ariadne,
- arya stark,
- beleth "bells",
- bennett halverson,
- delta,
- elena gilbert,
- epsilon,
- eric northman,
- franz d'epinay,
- galadriel,
- hal yorke,
- harry potter,
- jack harkness,
- james potter,
- john "reaper" grimm,
- john a. zoidberg,
- josh levison,
- legolas,
- leliana,
- leonard "bones" mccoy (xi),
- lestat de lioncourt,
- lily evans,
- loki,
- lydia martin,
- mairon [sauron],
- marty mikalski,
- mathilda lando,
- mike banning,
- mordecai,
- nathan young,
- nepeta leijon,
- netherlands,
- nill,
- peter bishop,
- peter burke,
- river song,
- rose tyler,
- scott mccall,
- stiles stilinski,
- takeshi,
- the batter,
- the doctor (eleventh),
- the master (shalka),
- the warden (daylen amell),
- thranduil,
- tom mcnair,
- zeke tyler
eighteenth jump;
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.
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
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.
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.
Mathilda Lando | OTA
A moment ago things had almost been okay. Not all the way, no where near one hundred percent, but a little bit on the upswing. So, yeah. That should have been a sign, probably. She hadn't stayed in school long, but she'd hung around long enough to get the whole 'what goes up' talk. Mathilda wasn't exactly ready to start screaming that this was the worst 'comes down' she'd had- because no matter what this was? in her twelve years she'd had worse- but it wasn't looking like one of her easier ones. Naked in a hospital...thing. The fuck was this.
The first thing she did was look down at her arms, her legs, tummy. Easy to do seeing as they were all located in one easy to find sprawl on the floor thanks to getting chucked out of the whatever the shit she'd been in. No bullets or anything. So. Good on that. Now to just look around and-
Mathilda's eyes finally flew wide in panic as she glanced around. Not there. Nothing. Just...just people. She tried to clamor up on to her feet, only to have her knees go out before she was halfway up. Drugged? Who cared. A note of hysteria tinged her voice as she glared around and snapped out an enraged:
"Where the hell is my plant?!"
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A warrior speaks the words. Blades are strapped to her hips, her arms, her legs; her stance is poised and ready. Talia folds her arms over her chest, her mouth twitching up into a small smile. She can't help it; she's always liked people who were aggressive rather than passive. "I should think you'd have more things to worry about."
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Mathilda stays in her sprawled position on the ground as she finally goes meet the woman's eyes. Party to keep her hands from possibly shaking under that gaze. But despite being pretty sure the woman was a killing machine or nuts- or, uh, both- her mouth remains in a stubborn line. She wasn't some kid to get shoved around, after all.
"Like what? I love that plant. What's more important than that?"
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She bit her lip for a moment, glancing down at herself again and giving into that point. Even if she didn't want to, because where was Leon.
"Everything else...whoever brought us here, it's their responsibility. Starting with giving me back my stuff."
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She nodded at the blades at the woman's hips. If they were holding her things hostage but giving out weapons? They were even bigger morons than she thought, and like hell she'd miss taking advantage of it. Determination finally drove her to push herself up, knees shaking slightly as she tried to force them to support her.
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"What's your name?"
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She doesn't try to jerk away from the arm up. Really, she needs it right now. More than she needs to really tick off a lady with really big knives, anyway. She does look around, trying to find the lockers, however. That she needed more than anything.
"Who're you?"
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"I think our belongings have turned up in the lockers over there... Here." Franz pulls off his jacket, offering it to her to put on.
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"What lockers?"
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"The lockers are over that way, in the next room. There should be a tattoo on your arm with a number on it, and the locker will coincide. Mine had some clothes and other belongings of mine in it. With how much sense this place make, I don't see why a plant would be out of the question." Considering whoever arranged this thought his broken sword was anything he wanted, a beloved plant - whatever it was, a living thing or some slang or something - seems reasonable.
He offers her a hand up again. "Can you walk? I could probably carry you that way if you don't think you can make it, but you should probably try stretching a bit."
It's not Franz's intention to be forward, he's just worried about the kid.
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At the end she looked down at his hand, then back to his face, before reaching out to grab the offered appendage.
"You talk a bunch, huh. What's your name?"
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"I'm Franz. To whom do I owe the pleasure?"
The word 'pleasure' is not without its irony.
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Nice talk wasn't exactly something Mathilda was used to, so it's not until after the reflexive answer that she gets what he was actually asking.
"But I'm Mathilda."
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"Got ya!"
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He knows he wasn't very happy, when he woke up for the first time. But more and more he's started looking forward to it. Is that bad...?
He follows her after her outburst, keeps a distant watchful eye--should he say hello?
And then he reaches out and gently pulls on her arm.
"Are you sad? Did you find your plant?"
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Mathilda jerks her arm back without thinking, turning on her heel- and nearly stumbles back against the wall at being met with the sight of a tiny kid. Like, little brother sized. Wrong...everything. Especially the being alive part. But the size was just close enough to right that, along with any notice she might have paid to what the little guy actually said to her, the snapped back reply she had ready to let loose died in her throat.
Shit.
"What are you doing, kid? Shouldn't you...where're your parents?"
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Asked again. It seemed important. Or maybe he just wants to make her less anxious; he's not really sure how to do that, other than poking in other directions.
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But first, the plant.
"Yeah, he's fine. I need to find a window or something. You know anything about that?"
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"I do! We don't have windows 'cuz this is space, but we have a garden! Gardens with real trees and stuff, too. I can show you a secret place I like to sleep, if you want. I like taking naps with my drawling book there. You could find a secret place, too!"
Because while he loves the gardens--Netherlands works hard on them, Heather works on them, too--it can be a little crowded. Not a good place for being alone. Not the place where they grow all the stuff, anyway.
"Do you want to see? I can show you where it is."
Look at me, I'm helpful!
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So she nods and holds out a hand towards him. Instincts die hard, even if he is just some stranger's kid. Don't let the little ones just wander away in public. They might get...re-kidnapped.
"Show me the way."
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"It's this way! On the lift! We have lots and lots of floors--but make sure you don't go where the light stops touching, okay? It's bad where it's dark. And you might get lost!"
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"This place has bbogeyman, huh? Figures. It's always something."
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