mathematically: (pic#5013725)
lчdíα ( вєttєr thαn αnч σthєr αlphα ) mαrtín ([personal profile] mathematically) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2013-05-07 11:13 pm

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.
refusing: (embarrassed)

[personal profile] refusing 2013-05-09 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Not exactly. I'm... [Yeah, she's got no good term for it right now.]

I travel round with a guy that might as well be.

[It's a joke, but only one to her. She laughs, ducking her head, grateful for a brief moment where she isn't brooding over her stupid phone not working.]

[personal profile] memorari 2013-05-10 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
Well, as weird as it sounds, I know what you mean.

[ She similarly laughs to herself. ] Name's Clara, by the way, Clara Oswald. I work in communications.
refusing: (let's talk this out)

[personal profile] refusing 2013-05-10 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
Rose Tyler. I work...nowhere, not lately. Guess that might change if I'm really stuck here.

[Which she's not exactly looking forward to, but she knows it'll have to be done.]

So...how long've you been here, Clara Oswald? [She slowly drawls out the name, giving it a try to make sure she remembers it properly.]

[personal profile] memorari 2013-05-15 02:06 am (UTC)(link)
Well, if you're good with computers, we're really short-staffed. [ she waves a hand. ] About a jump. Some people call it a month, but all we really know is that it feels longer than it a week.
refusing: (gesture)

[personal profile] refusing 2013-05-15 08:26 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, not really all that good with computers. [She awkwardly laughs, grimacing a bit.]

So, there's no way t'keep track of time here? Those communicators we've got, shouldn't they do that or something?