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.
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And yet you were so surprised to see me well. ["The brink of death," she'd said, and it rings in his ears again. Gently:] How uncertain?
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I cannot distinguish between the truths, lies, and rumours of King's Landing any longer.
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... All this time I've been here, I was afraid of what might happen to you in my absence. I had not thought it could be worse with me still there.
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... Lord Jaime had recently returned to King's Landing, and Brienne with him. I spoke with him a while, and he told me to go to her, to judge for myself the truth of what she had to say for her part in Renly's death. I did as he commanded, and later delivered her to him. It was after that night that I found myself here.
[He had thought of that night more than a few times since his arrival, but it still stung, for more reasons than he cared to admit. Enough, even, for him to momentarily forget just how much time must have passed for Margaery.]
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[If he were to be completely honest, it's been almost too easy to settle into a sort of routine here. He had never planned for a life without Renly, and having him back, even here — for the first time in months, he had felt certain of his purpose again. Which has become suddenly complicated, with everything that Margaery has told him. Everything he still wants to know.]
[But he can't keep himself from asking:]
... What of Stannis?
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[ Her tone is somewhat bitter. More than anything, she does not like being left in the dark. ]
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[He had hoped so much for vengeance. That was a less satisfying answer by far. But he shakes his head, forcing that thought away for now. He could deal with it later, and on his own.]
My apologies. You've only just arrived, and here I am nearly interrogating you.
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... He certainly hasn't complained.
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Naturally. You know how seriously I take my responsibilities.
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[ Let's just hope Joffrey stays dead. ]
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That does complicate matters. Though I doubt that anyone would know the proper etiquette for this situation.
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At last, all my dreams are coming true.
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