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

[goldshirt]

People don't actually care if you have weed, you know.

[he says, cocking his head at her, and he can't really stop his mouth from quirking into a grin. the thing was, Kirk did nothing but ask questions and it drove most people up the goddamn wall]

[chuffle]

[That's not what she expected, and it comes out of her mouth with a laugh.]

Wha-

No!

[She laughs again.]

No, it's not weed. Um.

[She takes it out of her pocket and shows him.]

It's catnip.

[goldshirt]

[that makes two of them, then, because his eyebrows hike up when she holds the bag out to him.

yep. catnip.

his mouth quirks into something curious and amused.]

Why are you hiding catnip?

[chuffle]

[She pockets it again, shaking her head.]

Maybe I don't want the cats onboard to develop a crippling addiction, Captain.

[Actually she's worried one of the werewolves will smell it and then she'll never hear the end of it.]

[goldshirt]

Oh, [the word comes out more as a laugh than an actual word, but he nods sagely, still grinning.] Of course, why hadn't I thought of that.

[chuffle]

This is incredibly disheartening. That lady who runs the shuttle bay, she's going to think you're irresponsible.

[She sidles up a little]

Actually, around here, I'm more worried people will think it's weed, and then they'll be like hey, Daphne, when are you going to hook us up?

[goldshirt]

You could always point them toward the Oxygen Garden.

[he doesn't step out of her space, but instead lifts his arm against the locker and leans into it in an incredibly old fashioned, and maybe a little cheesy, way.]

They're growing it down there.

[chuffle]

Catnip?

[Heeeeeey Captain, heeeeeey]

So what's a space captain like you doing on a nice boat like this?

[goldshirt]

[he laughs, shifts his weight but doesn't move away.]

That could be up there too.

[chuffle]

[She leans in, breathes in the smell of him, clean from goo.]

Well, if I need more, I know where to go.