eighteenth 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

[discretion]

Franz glances away as she puts the jacket on. He's a little angry at this place now. Bad enough for him to be scooped up and away from his unfortunate ending to this place, but to force an innocent young girl into immodesty is terrible. It brings him no closer to understanding this place, but it strikes him as cruel. She's little more than a child (hell, he's only 16 himself, and the place is leaving him feel immature and unprepared).

"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.

[okayokay]

Mathilda just sat there, arms folded to hold the jacket close, for a moment as he talked. Taking it all in. Tattoos. Lockers. Suits. Yeah. She still had zero idea how any of this happened, but that sounded close enough to a plan. Or at least something to do while she got her head back on straight.

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?"

[discretion]

Franz hoists her up carefully, merely rolling his eyes at the comment that he talks too much. Really, he's succinct compared to some of the company he keeps. But it's entirely possible he's babbling a bit in his nervousness. It's comforting to guide someone else through, new as he is to the whole situation.

"I'm Franz. To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

The word 'pleasure' is not without its irony.

[okayokay]

"Whatever assholes went on a crime spree."

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."

[discretion]

The crime spree comment makes Franz frown, but taking to heart Mathilda's complaint that he talks too much, he leaves it alone for the time being. "Mademoiselle Mathilda, I only wish we'd met under more pleasant circumstances." With one gentle tap to her shoulder, he leads her over to the locker room. "As I understand it, if they brought your plant with you it might be in your locker here."

[okayokay]

He gets a weird look as he guides her- Mademoiselle?- but no smart ass comments about that. People could talk however the wanted, she guessed. Even if she wasn't used to it. The second they hit the locker area, though, she was off like a shot, comparing her arm to the lockers until...

"Got ya!"

[discretion]

Franz smiles at her enthusiasm. He follows behind but not too closely - in his experience the content of the lockers were extremely personal. However, he is sort of hoping to get his jacket back, goopy as it is now. Mathilda should at least be getting one of the ship uniforms, as he understands it.

He lingers close by, examining one of the other locker interfaces.

[okayokay]

The thought of the jacket is the last thing on her mind as she starts going through the locker. As is hiding what she's taking out. Her cloths are there- good- but they just get dumped on a pile on the floor as she takes care of more important item. The plant, of course. Then a stuffed rabbit, which gets clutched to her like a prized possession. And finally, laying in the back, Mathilda pulls out a handgun.

"These guys are total morons."

[discretion]

The appearance of a soft stuffed toy makes him smile - she really is still just a child after all - and then the gun. Well. At least now Franz knows that he's not the only one who was given an ill-advised weapon. He announces his presence by quietly clearing his throat. He forgoes any judgment on why a young girl has such a thing, after all, it's already been clear this is an extraordinary place. He cannot know who she really is or where she comes from, though he regrets whatever must have driven her to such a direct and obvious loss of innocence.

"I wouldn't advise firing that in here until we know it won't put a hole in the wall and suck us outside. This is a space ship, and any breach could be dangerous."

Franz offers what he hopes is a bit of an assuring smile. "It looks like you found your plant."