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

[impitoyable]

[ she's on a wavering edge; help offered because that is something she should do by the manners that she still remembers and because she feels there is a debt existing. for aithusa.

when he asks, there's a flicker of curiosity to her cool eyes, and she folds her arms. she sounds thoughtful, careful. ] Such incantations are possible.

[ her lips thin. ] It would be better if you had something of theirs. Something they once held or owned.

[ then, she offers a shrug. calculated composure. ] But a face would do just as well.

[elvenking]

[It had been a long shot, but a flicker of interest sparks in his eyes.]

I have nothing of his, I fear, but I will never forget his face. When I have drawn it I will show you.

[He hesitates.]

I want nothing ill done to him. I only wish to know where he is.

[impitoyable]

[ she sighs. she wants to ask, why he needs to be found. was it for care of whoever this was, or some kept wariness?

wants to, but doesn't.

nods, instead, allowing herself a wry smile to what he says. (who, me?) ] And no harm shall be done. I am no brute, Thranduil. [ she feigns hurt; (but she can be vicious, even if some situations wouldn't call for it.) ]

I will prepare all I need. You know where to find me.

[elvenking]

I do, Lady. I will see to Aithusa then as well.

[He's deciding if this is a good idea.]