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

[elvenking]

Mm?

[Thranduil glances at Bran wearily, then his eyebrows rise slightly.]

I am weary, but not unwell. The jump seems to have done you no great evil, which is good. Will you sit with me?

[wolfdreamer]

If you don't mind.

[But he asked Bran to, so he must not mind too terribly. He comes to sit beside Tharanduil, with a shy smile.]

It has done me no evil at all. Or Summer--he is running on his own now, but he will return. Are you only weary from the jump?

[elvenking]

Only from the jump, pinig. I see it has taken less out of you, which is as it should be for the very young!

[wolfdreamer]

I'm not that young.

[But he says it almost automatically, not really arguing. He likes Tharanduil too much to really argue with him.]

I'm glad to have finally met you in the gardens. I have wanted to come and find you for some time, but there is always some trouble aboard this ship. Did you see the pirates, when they were here?

[elvenking]

To me, little one, you are all that young.

[The smile fades.]

I did. How is your brother?

[wolfdreamer]

[He nods, thoughtfully. It makes sense to find everyone young, if you can live to be nearly forever. And Bran likes that idea. It makes him no greater or less than nearly anyone on this ship, to Tharanduil.

At the question of Robb, though, he looks up, a little surprised.]

He fares well. He is healing. The medicines of this ship work quickly and are surer at curing than some of our own. [Or that's what the doctors have said.] How did you know that he was injured?

[elvenking]

I saw him in the medbay with the lady Lucrezia.

[wolfdreamer]

Oh.

[Bran's cheeks go a little pink when he thinks of the Lady Lucrezia. She is very warm and very nice, a true and proper lady--and very fond of Robb. He isn't sure of what to make of that.]

Why were you in the medbay? You were not injured, were you?

[elvenking]

[He makes note of that reaction.]

No, pinig, I was seeing if anyone I knew was injured.

[wolfdreamer]

[There were too many injured during the fighting as it were. Better than Tharanduil not be counted among them--or any that he cared for.]

And did you find any you knew there? Besides Robb, I mean. Anyone that you care for.

[elvenking]

I am glad to say I did not.

[wolfdreamer]

I am glad for you, too. And for your friends.

[He tugs at the straps of one of his robotic legs, idly, as he tries to think of how to ask his next question.]

Do you-- trust the medicines that the doctors here give?

[elvenking]

They helped my son. I have been given no reason to think them incompetent.

[wolfdreamer]

What happened to your son?

[elvenking]

He was bitten by a rat and became very ill.

[Not an exaggeration so much as ignorance. He'd never had a sick child before.]

[wolfdreamer]

[Bran wrinkles his nose a little--there were illnesses, because of the rats, but they weren't so bad. Not that he saw, anyways. Perhaps some were worse off than others.]

And they healed him, with their medicines. They seem to be able to heal nearly anything.

What do they use for healing, where you are from?

[elvenking]

A good many herbs, salves, and tinctures, but it is not my trade, I fear. Lord Elrond would tell you, were he here. He is the greatest healer of our time.

[wolfdreamer]

Lord Elrond. [He repeats the name, because he likes the sound of it. He will never tire of hearing of elven names, or their words.] But only those things, and never-- magic?

[elvenking]

Some of it may be called that, to those with the skill.

[wolfdreamer]

But there is a difference, between medicine, and healing with plants, and magic--isn't there? And there is magic? It is real, I mean.

[elvenking]

[Daww that's cute. Or maybe kind of heartbreaking.]

Of course it is real. It may not always be what you think of as magic, but it is most assuredly real. Even the use of herbs and medicines is magic, in its own way. Not all magic is lights and spells. The mightiest of my race was not a warrior or a healer, but a craftsman.

[wolfdreamer]

[He wrinkles his nose at that, uncertain of that claim. It isn't that he doubts Thranduil's wisdom, it just does not sound right.]

But--herbs are not magic. The maesters of my world use herbs and they say that there is no such thing as magic. Herbs are the same as medicines. [He isn't entirely sure of that, either, even as he is saying it.] How can it be magic if anyone can learn it?

[elvenking]

The question you must ask yourself is why isn't it magic simply because anyone can learn it? Or because it is all around us every day? The sun and soil grew the herbs with the power to heal, and the healer understands how to unlock that power. How is that not magic?

[wolfdreamer]

It... sounds like magic, when you say it that way.

[And he wishes Maester Luwin were here, so he might ask him the same question. Maester Luwin would like to talk with Thranduil.]

Then, knowledge is a sort of magic, as is learning things. If you are very wise, that is sort of like having a lot of magic. You are unlocking a power found in books. Right?

[elvenking]

[It brings back teaching his own children about these things, except Bran is older than they were when they first learned about this. To them, all the world that is is magic, as it is to all elves.]

Well done! Yes, and the very ability to remember that knowledge is a magic that was put in you. You are magic, pinig. The life and spirit in you, sustained by a body that is not the same as that spirit but nonetheless tied to it, is magic.