lчdíα ( вєttєr thαn αnч σthєr αlphα ) mαrtín (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mathematically) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2013-05-07 11:13 pm
mathematically) wrote in ataraxionlogs2013-05-07 11:13 pm
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- agent texas,
- agent washington,
- agent york,
- alex shepherd,
- alex summers | au,
- am,
- ariadne,
- arya stark,
- beleth "bells",
- bennett halverson,
- delta,
- elena gilbert,
- epsilon,
- eric northman,
- franz d'epinay,
- galadriel,
- hal yorke,
- harry potter,
- jack harkness,
- james potter,
- john "reaper" grimm,
- john a. zoidberg,
- josh levison,
- legolas,
- leliana,
- leonard "bones" mccoy (xi),
- lestat de lioncourt,
- lily evans,
- loki,
- lydia martin,
- mairon [sauron],
- marty mikalski,
- mathilda lando,
- mike banning,
- mordecai,
- nathan young,
- nepeta leijon,
- netherlands,
- nill,
- peter bishop,
- peter burke,
- river song,
- rose tyler,
- scott mccall,
- stiles stilinski,
- takeshi,
- the batter,
- the doctor (eleventh),
- the master (shalka),
- the warden (daylen amell),
- thranduil,
- tom mcnair,
- zeke tyler
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.
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
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.
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.
no subject
[ She knows how you feel about tobacco, boss-man. Either way, she gives him a grin, clicking her tongue at Howly to make sure he keeps the livestock moving with them. ]
No fucking clue, but I need them, so you're going to help me think of something.
no subject
If you don't take away my business, I will.
no subject
[ She means that, too -- she always does, with Ned. She also follows him, for now, letting Howly do what he will with the others. ]
It's all got purposes. Home remedies and ceremonies and shit.
no subject
Mm, good.
[Although on a more practical note:]
Ship won't think about those. Should keep an eye on it.
no subject
Believe me, I will.
[ She'd like nothing more than to knock some ignorant asshole out; she's getting restless again. ]
You know any? Of the remedy shit, I mean.
no subject
Sorta. Nothin' from - [vague hand wave] - where you are. Just shit from the middle ages.
no subject
[ But she laughs despite herself, leans into him a little because she can and because she likes to be close, likes touch and understands what it's like to want to rip someone to shreds for looking at one of Her People the wrong way. ]
no subject
[It sounds somewhere between indignant and bashful and for a second his expression flickers to pouting, but it doesn't last long. Even as he's doing it he leans into her in return. Wonders about that. Never used to be so touchy-feely, did he - another mask thing. But she always was, as far as he knows, and he veers away from shop talk because suddenly he needs to know what she thinks about it.]
Think touch is bad? This kinda shit, I mean. Here. Never know -
[He shrugs with his opposite shoulder.]
no subject
[ But his question is more important and she shrugs back, tilts her head to look at him a little bit better. ]
Nah. I've always been a touchy sort of person. It's more... honest, I guess. And words are hard.
no subject
But he does lift his chin up and bark a laugh. Yeah, she's right.]
Mm. Knew a lot of Nations, [he starts - pauses, considers - goes on with it.] They touch a lot. Doesn't mean anything. To them, I mean.
no subject
[ Doesn't mean anything to them, but his question implies that maybe it means something to him. Has the ship made him different from other Nations? Would his people feel it, if he went back home and could remember? ]
It doesn't, for some people. Like... sex means a lot for some people, but it's just fun for others. You know?