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

[nonsomno]

So long as they're private.

[jurisimpudent]

[He nods. The room won't lock, but the door closes, at least.

He starts off in the direction of one of those rooms.]

[nonsomno]

[She follows without a word. After all, even if he's far more deadly than he looks, she's got her knives.

The room is far less wooden than she's used to-- inhospitable, in her mind, though Talia doesn't say as such.]

What specifically do you wish to know?

[jurisimpudent]

[He takes a seat, crossing his arms, and nods for her to do the same.]

First, how you got into that line of work. It's an unusual one. Particularly for a princess.

[nonsomno]

[She shakes her head even as she sits.]

Not important. I am, and have been since I was seventeen.

Remus Lupin: Pretty Princess

[jurisimpudent]

Would you be willing to indulge my curiosity nevertheless?

In the name of the moon, he'll bite the hell out of you! (oh my god remus stop)

[nonsomno]

No.

[She gestures impatiently.]

Next question.

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT LUPIN HE WANTS THIS NEW SUBSTITUTE SISTER STOP POKING YOUR HEAD IN

[jurisimpudent]

[He raises an eyebrow but says, drolly:]

As you will. For whom did you work?

oh my god yes I didn't even realize he'd associate her with Franziska

[nonsomno]

Queen Beatrice of Lorindar.

[Her head tilts back; there's clear respect in her voice]

Sassy, crabby, haughty teenage princess with a whip? How could he not?

[jurisimpudent]

[He tilts his head very slightly to the side.] Someone of a neighboring country, I presume?

[nonsomno]

North of us.

[jurisimpudent]

Did you work against your former kingdom?

[nonsomno]

No.

[jurisimpudent]

Then against whom?

[nonsomno]

Other nations. Taking care of threats within our own kingdom. Et cetera.

[jurisimpudent]

And what did your duties entail?

[nonsomno]

Whatever was needed. They changed depending on each mission. Saving someone, hiding them, killing them, et cetera.

[jurisimpudent]

That's not precisely spy work.

[nonsomno]

Are you a spy?

[jurisimpudent]

Er - Well, no. Of course not.

[nonsomno]

Then I think I'd know better than you what my job truly entails.

[jurisimpudent]

...Fine. Have you ever done any administrative work?

[nonsomno]

No.

[jurisimpudent]

Then we'll train you in that.

[nonsomno]

[An incredulous laugh.]

I'm not a scribe. I work in the field.