lчdíα ( вєttєr thαn αnч σthєr αlphα ) mαrtín (
mathematically) wrote in
ataraxionlogs2013-05-07 11:13 pm
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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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[He tugs at the straps of one of his robotic legs, idly, as he tries to think of how to ask his next question.]
Do you-- trust the medicines that the doctors here give?
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[Not an exaggeration so much as ignorance. He'd never had a sick child before.]
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And they healed him, with their medicines. They seem to be able to heal nearly anything.
What do they use for healing, where you are from?
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Of course it is real. It may not always be what you think of as magic, but it is most assuredly real. Even the use of herbs and medicines is magic, in its own way. Not all magic is lights and spells. The mightiest of my race was not a warrior or a healer, but a craftsman.
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But--herbs are not magic. The maesters of my world use herbs and they say that there is no such thing as magic. Herbs are the same as medicines. [He isn't entirely sure of that, either, even as he is saying it.] How can it be magic if anyone can learn it?
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[And he wishes Maester Luwin were here, so he might ask him the same question. Maester Luwin would like to talk with Thranduil.]
Then, knowledge is a sort of magic, as is learning things. If you are very wise, that is sort of like having a lot of magic. You are unlocking a power found in books. Right?
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Well done! Yes, and the very ability to remember that knowledge is a magic that was put in you. You are magic, pinig. The life and spirit in you, sustained by a body that is not the same as that spirit but nonetheless tied to it, is magic.
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[He spreads his fingers apart as far as they can go and stares at them very hard, as if this will cause something to happen. When he is wearing Summer's skin, then he feels as if he has some magic. But other days, he is just a broken boy--especially here. And there is another part that he must question--]
Do some people forget that they have magic in them? And-- [He frowns a little, closing his hands again.] All of life is not good. Should magic not make it good?
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[The next part, he considers for a while.]
All things were good when they were made, and magic it was that made them, and they were made with magic in them. All things are magic, but that is not why all things were good when they were made. When evil began, it found it could not create--it could only corrupt. And so some magic is corrupted, as are the hearts of many, perhaps all, people. But we are told that because all things began in good, all things will end in good as well, at the ending of the world. For because all things began as good, even evil things are not wholly apart from the good. Thus do my people have mercy on all living things.
[Except giant spiders.
As Thranduil recalls the ancient teachings, something eases in him that has not eased in a very long time. These words of hope, of estel, the deep hope above all and not merely optimism, are what he very much needed to hear right now, even if they come from his own mouth.]
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Not all people.
[It is almost a question, but it is also to remind himself. There are good people in the world. He has met many aboard this ship, yes, but even in Westeros there is some good.]
Must the world end, for things to return to good?
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Do you really believe that? There might be some great evil-- or what if you do not know what is evil or good? You might choose wrongly. The same could happen to the world.
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