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

hon hon hon

[shoyu]

[ it's hard to hear the sounds of footsteps and rustling foliage over the soft lilt of his instrument, and it's not until finch speaks up that soysauce looks over -- his expression immediately brightening into a smile when he recognizes who it is. ]

Aha, just practicing a bit, sir! A musician can't afford to go rusty, yes? Even in a place like this, it's important to stay in shape.

[ and he laughs softly before hopping up from where he's sitting, letting the instrument hang on its strap around his neck as he smoothly walks forward one, two steps. giving a deep bow and taking up finch's hand to press his lips against the back of his wrist. looking up at finch with a coy smile as he slowly straightens back up. ] After all, one should always be prepared, in case there's the opportunity to serenade a passing beauty.

[incubo]

It's not 'sir', it's Finch.

[ he can't even remember the last time anyone called him 'sir'. maybe never. finch was a whore for forever, and it's not as if he's any more respectable now. then again, soy seems respectful that way with everyone.

he watches as the human comes closer, muscles bunching, struggling not to reach for him. the gesture, then, startles him, leaving him wide-eyed and blinking-- especially as the other man clarifies with that comment.

weirdly, he finds himself blushing a little, flustered. ]

You-- You're crazy. What-- I'm an incubus, remember? You don't need to--

[shoyu]

[ for soy, there's always been a unique sort of pleasure in making people blush, in flattering them until they turn pink at the cheeks. it's not that he enjoys embarrassing people, but more that -- nobody hates compliments, yes? it's always great making people feel better about themselves! even better when he manages to flatter someone who usually seems more unflappable. a matter of pride!

finch blushes, and soysauce can't help but beam. bouncing a bit on his feet as he straightens up. ]

Aah, but a gentleman should be honest, no matter the circumstances. Incubus or not, how can I help but admire someone so radiant?

[ there's nothing skeevy or lecherous about that. it's remarkably sincere, and soysauce winks at finch, adding, ] -- though that must hardly be the first time you've heard it!

[incubo]

.. Radiant, he says. [ he folds his arms across his abdomen, struggling to get his own startling reaction under control. why the hell had he blushed? it was just a kiss on the hand. (maybe because he's always too busy seducing people to let anyone touch him with less than sexual intentions.)

he finds his mouth quirking a little, hand lifting to tuck his hair back absently. ]

No, people don't usually call me that. It's usually about how dirty I am.

[shoyu]

[ well, that makes him pause. soysauce gives a wide-eyed blink at that, followed by a puzzled little tilt of the head like a curious dog. humming in thought for a moment, rocking on his heels -- seeming to mull over his words before answering slowly. ]

Well -- that seems a little unfair, doesn't it? As I imagine it's because of what you are, rather than what you do. And that's hardly anything you have any control over. Rather silly thing to treat someone badly over!

[ a small nod before he crouches down, toying with a bundle of long-stemmed flowers that dot the grass below them. ] So -- I think that's hardly a fair assessment of yourself. It would be far harsher than you deserve.

[incubo]

[ he blinks, then startles into a little laugh. ] It's not like that. 'Dirty', you know, like sexy, like.. It's slang. It's usually a compliment, it's just-- sexual.

[ not like soy. but then, maybe if finch had fucked him, things would be different. maybe soy would treat him the same way. (maybe that's why he hasn't, yet.) finch doesn't really have friends on the ship. he has people he's friendly with, regulars, but friendship is something he doesn't just hand out to anyone. after all, it's hard to make them when you're a predator like finch is. anyone could be his next meal if he's not careful. ]

Babe, you're sweet, but that's-- I am what I am, you know?

[shoyu]

[ that makes soy give a little sideways cant of the head, giving a wide-eyed blink -- goodness, he can never quite get the hang of all the slang in use here. ]

Haa ... but it's still rather odd if everyone defines you by one trait, no? [ soysauce rocks on his heels, hands folded behind his back as he thinks over that. ]

I can certainly see why people would notice your, ah -- fondness for companionship! But you're also quite sharp, [ counting off on his fingers as he lists these traits: ] -- and have a way with words, and you're friendly, and you're most definitely very charming and beautiful. So. Slang or not, it seems a little odd to accept only one description as the correct answer, no?

[incubo]

[ jesus, what the hell is he supposed to do with an honest-to-god gentleman? who the fuck thought it was a good idea to let finch anywhere near this guy? he is guaranfuckingteed to ruin him somehow. (just like he eventually ruins all the good things in his life.)

he laughs, short and sharp and bitter, fingers curling around the lighter in his pocket, bringing it out to turn it between his fingers. it keeps his hand busy, anyway. keeps him from reaching. ]

Jesus. [ a breath of a noise, his other hand lifting to rub his brow. ] Jesus Christ, Soy. I'm not-- None of that shit matters. You know that, right? I'm a predator. I'm, like, something people should be fucking scared of. [ he lets his hand fall away again, peering at the human man a little worriedly. ] You do know that. Don't you?

[shoyu]

[ unfortunately, soysauce doesn't really understand the full extent of finch's distress. can't even detect it properly, to be honest. it's just that he can't fully comprehend what an incubus must feel in this situation, can't even begin to fathom what finch must be feeling --

so it's completely thoughtless when he gives a small sigh, then simply steps forward to clasp finch's hands in his. standing up straight and giving finch a bright, almost starry-eyed look as he declares firmly, ]

-- I'm not scared of you! [ a short but determined nod, accompanied by an energetic shake of finch's hands, fingers grasping tight. ] Because I think you're a good person! Regardless of what you might be capable of, I think you have good intentions, and those are what really matter -- you don't intend to cause any harm. So I don't think there's anything about you I should be scared of!