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 after that, he does fall asleep easily. Just like Albert, really-- able to fall asleep anywhere within minutes. His breathing does even out, and the room falls silent except for that.]
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He'll have to talk to sick bay about getting a sleep aid, he thinks, because he can't foresee this going away any time soon.]
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It's about half way through the night when his sleep starts to become more restless. Before long, he's tossing in his sleep and murmuring incoherent phrases. Whatever they are, they're not the sounds of someone having a pleasant dream.]
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[He doubt it'll work, but he doesn't want to have to shake Albert awake unless he has to.]
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Just when it seems like he can't get any more agitated, he wakes up with a start and a yell, sitting bolt upright and drenched in sweat, panting heavily.]
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... Franz?
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[Franz climbs out of bed, going to sit on the edge of Albert's. Close, but not touching. He tries to make out Albert's face in the darkness.]
You were tossing and turning.
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Franz ... this is real, right?
[It isn't the first time today he's asked that.]
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Franz reaches out to find Albert's shoulder, and then pinches him lightly through his pajamas.]
Feel that? You're not dreaming.
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... Thanks. ... Sorry. I had to make sure.
[You are always in my dreams, he wants to say. You are always in my dreams. Happy dreams, sad dreams, angry dreams. But then I wake, and you are gone. And your blood is always on my hands.]
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Sure you don't want that story?
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[Albert is too tired to pretend like he's okay, just in this moment. He pulls his knees up to his chest instead, hugging them.]
Can you just ... stay here for a while?
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[Franz rubs his back, remembering how he comforted Albert after he cried in front of the lockers earlier today.] Let's lay down, okay? You must be tired.
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[He shuffles over towards the wall a bit, making more room for Franz, then lies back down on his side again.]
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[Albert nods, and relaxes. He doesn't mind the humming, really. It's relaxing. When Franz stops, he speaks up again, despite his promise to sleep.]
Sorry ... even here, it seems like you're still always the one comforting me, and never the other way around ...
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... I really feel like ... sometimes I don't understand you at all, Franz.
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You really are
[Albert is so close. He should wrap his arms around the smaller boy, but his fingers are pulled in tight to his chest instead]
such an idiot...
[Franz's voice is soft, dreamy.]
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Takes one to know one, idiot...
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It does.
[Franz lapses into silence, now, but he doesn't fall asleep right away. That won't come for a long time, he suspects.]
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