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

[discretion]

You could make friends anywhere, Albert... [Franz just shakes his head.] You've had time to learn how to do those things, and meet those people, but you don't know the slightest thing about this ship yet?

Do you at least know who I could ask about it?

[assumedposition]

Hmmm. There's a guy who posts to the network after every jump with information about the ship. He'd be a good start. Or-- there's always Captain Kirk... he's not captain of this ship, but I'm under the impression that he's captain of a similar type of ship back where he comes from. You could always try the bar, too! I mean-- just because the bartender must see and talk to a lot of people, you know? I'm sure they pick up a lot.

[As he's saying all this, he also casually strips his shirt off over his head without bothering to undo the buttons and throws it onto the top of the dresser to join the other shirt. In the small window of seconds before he gets the familiar pink flannel pajama top on, Franz might notice something unexpected if he's paying very close attention. On Albert's torso, left side, just below the rib-cage and (thankfully) just an inch or so away from the side of the stomach-- so, missing any vital organs-- is a small, almost perfectly round scar. Still pink, but not red, in that way that scars are after they've healed completely but are only a few months old and yet to fade.]

[discretion]

Cool. I guess I'll have to start checking like you do.

[Franz sneaks a glance at his friend changing - surreptitiously, of course - but he can't help but comment on the scar.]

Hey. Did the pirates do that?

[assumedposition]

[Albert's hand goes surreptitiously to where he knows the scar once his pajama shirt is on. He'd almost forgotten about it, to be honest. It doesn't pain him anymore, and he doesn't much look in the mirror here, aside from to make sure his hair doesn't look like a birds nest after rolling out of bed.]

--Oh. Um. Yeah.

[Even as the words come out of his mouth, the guilt hits him full in the stomach. Albert has always been compulsively honest-- he hates lying, and he's not good at it besides. If Franz had asked "Who did that?" instead, Albert would've had to tell the truth simply for lack of being able to come up with an alternative fast enough. But the simple yes/no question gave him a ready-made out, and he took it. After all, there's no way Franz can know that the pirates were here only last week. If he did, he'd know there's no way the wound could have aged to this point yet.

It makes him feel awful, though. He can't remember the last time he lied point-blank to Franz. But he isn't at all ready to have the "Oh yeah, my father shot my mother and then me with the intent to kill us both," conversation yet-- with anybody, but least of all with Franz. Least of all now. It's too dark, too depressing. So he lies.]

Don't worry, it's just a scratch. Not deep at all.

[discretion]

[Something's off about that answer, but Franz decides not to pry. He's been picking on Albert a lot the last few hours, after all. So he just shakes his head.]

There was a time you would've been showing that off with pride. Proof of your adventures.

I guess this place has changed you a little.

[For the better is the implication.

Though Franz knows it might not be two months on the ships that really changed Albert.]

[assumedposition]

Oh... [he laughs at that, but it's a nervous laughter.] I suppose you're right. I would've, wouldn't I?

[And it isn't until Franz says that, that Albert realises himself just how much he's changed. And that thought fills him with dread in the pit of his stomach. After all, he'd spent the last couple of months trying desperately not to change, to hold onto the person he once was... after all, wasn't that why he'd thrown himself into everything with gusto? Why he spent every waking moment here in the company of other people, for fear of being left with his own thoughts that quickly turned angry and sad?

Albert doesn't want to think about that.]

Well-- I've got to shape up eventually, otherwise Eugénie will elope with some stupid American guy, haha!

[discretion]

Love isn't like that, Albert. [Franz speaks quietly. He lays back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.] Most people can't give up on love even when they want to.

Besides, why would she settle for a stupid American guy when she's got a stupid French guy? That'd be a serious downgrade, even if it's you.

[assumedposition]

[Whump. That's the sound of Albert throwing his pillow across the narrow room at Franz's head.]

[discretion]

[Franz just laughs, hugging the pillow to his chest.]

So, things were going well with Eugenie before she left for New York, huh?

[He stays clear of any lecherous comments, because it's Eugenie.]

[assumedposition]

[Turning pink]

Well-- I don't know if you can really say that much... we kissed... [he goes even redder] and we swore we'd always be thinking of the other, but... well, we were kind of rushing to get her on a flight before somebody found her and dragged her back home, so we didn't really-- you know. Talk about anything... concrete.

[discretion]

[Franz almost feels okay about losing Albert (he was never Franz's to lose, not really) to Eugenie.

After all, that's how it should have been from the start, right?

They'll make each other happy, someday. And Eugenie is smart and wise and will keep him in check. And Albert will keep her laughing.

It's assuring, knowing that they might be okay someday.]

You kissed! Way to go, Albert! I knew you'd come around.

[He can't look at Albert, but he's sure his friend is blushing.]

[assumedposition]

[Blinking in surprise]

Franz... did you-- did you know how she felt about me?

[discretion]

You really don't know a thing about girls, do you?

[Franz leaves it at that, shaking his head,

Of course it'd probably be fair enough to say Albert doesn't know a thing about people.]

[assumedposition]

[For once, ignoring that slight in favour of the more important question here, which is:]

And you didn't tell me?! How-- How long has this even... even... been a thing?!

[He's not even angry, just embarrassed.]

[discretion]

Since we were little kids! I don't know how it wasn't obvious to you.

[Then again, Eugenie isn't the only one who took shelter in Albert's obliviousness.]

It wasn't my place to tell you that, anyway. It was Eugenie's secret.

[assumedposition]

Oh my god ...

[Albert flops backward onto the bed, hands covering his face to hide his mortification-- and then, sloth-like, rolls over onto his stomach to bury his face in mattress. His next words are muffled but still audible:]

You could've just lied and said it was-- a year or something!

[discretion]

Excuse me for thinking you wanted me to answer with the truth when you asked me! [Remember that pillow? Franz is throwing it right back at your head, Albert.]

[assumedposition]

[Just letting it fall there.]

She cried when I kissed her Franz...!

... I'm the worst...

[discretion]

Oh Albert.

There was a lot going on, right? She probably wasn't crying because you kissed her. Just... because she was going to miss you, or stuff like that.

[Shit. If Franz had to be 100% honest with himself, aside from feeling that Eugenie's feelings were hers to share - God knows her family does enough to push her along without one of her best friends coming into the mix - he never got involved with the budding whatever-it-was between Eugenie and Albert because he wanted to avoid these kinds of conversations.

He loves Eugenie, and his feelings for Albert go without saying. But if they're together it's the last indication of one thing that can never be.

Sometimes he thought he'd rather die than have to accept that.]

I'm sure you're not that bad of a kisser.

[assumedposition]

[Grumble grumble something inaudible that sounds like a badly-though-out not-very-witty comeback.

Albert just continues to hide his face in the mattress for a while to hide his utter mortification at his own stupidity, replaying every conversation he's ever had with Eugénie in his mind. Suddenly a lot of conversations he didn't understand at the time make a lot of sense now.

As usual, he's too caught up in his own problem to really notice Franz's own emotional upheaval.]

[discretion]

[Franz rests his arm over his eyes. It's been a really long day.

He actually considers just telling Albert off. Laying it all out so the truth can no longer be avoided, and letting Albert decide what it means. Maybe Franz would feel better if he told him how he felt. Maybe the feelings would fade.

But maybe he'd lose his best friend in the process, and he can't do that.

He can't bear the thought.]

If we're all done talking... can you dim the lights in here?

[assumedposition]

... Ah ... sure. Sorry, I forgot, you must be tired.

[Albert does so without a second thought, then climbs back into bed and under the sheets. He doesn't close his eyes, though-- he lies on his side facing Franz in the darkness, covers pulled right up to his chin, eyes wide open. He senses that Franz's sudden mood change is somewhat more than being just tired, but of course he doesn't understand what it was that's caused it. Something he said...? But it doesn't really make any sense to him, so instead he just lies there in the dark for a while, worrying.

If there's one thing he absolutely doesn't want, it's for either of them to go to bed angry with the other. So he swallows his worry and speaks up, but his voice sounds so small in the pitch black room.]

... Franz? Are you still awake?

[discretion]

[Franz hasn't moved an inch. The dark is too complete, the aura of this ship too strange. He can't relax.]

--No. I'm fast asleep. [He says with muffled irritation.]

[assumedposition]

You don't have to get all short with me.

I just wanted to say I was sorry.

[discretion]

[Shifting, and Franz curls up on his side, facing Albert in the inky black.]

...Sorry? Why?