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

[okayokay]

He gets a weird look as he guides her- Mademoiselle?- but no smart ass comments about that. People could talk however the wanted, she guessed. Even if she wasn't used to it. The second they hit the locker area, though, she was off like a shot, comparing her arm to the lockers until...

"Got ya!"

[discretion]

Franz smiles at her enthusiasm. He follows behind but not too closely - in his experience the content of the lockers were extremely personal. However, he is sort of hoping to get his jacket back, goopy as it is now. Mathilda should at least be getting one of the ship uniforms, as he understands it.

He lingers close by, examining one of the other locker interfaces.

[okayokay]

The thought of the jacket is the last thing on her mind as she starts going through the locker. As is hiding what she's taking out. Her cloths are there- good- but they just get dumped on a pile on the floor as she takes care of more important item. The plant, of course. Then a stuffed rabbit, which gets clutched to her like a prized possession. And finally, laying in the back, Mathilda pulls out a handgun.

"These guys are total morons."

[discretion]

The appearance of a soft stuffed toy makes him smile - she really is still just a child after all - and then the gun. Well. At least now Franz knows that he's not the only one who was given an ill-advised weapon. He announces his presence by quietly clearing his throat. He forgoes any judgment on why a young girl has such a thing, after all, it's already been clear this is an extraordinary place. He cannot know who she really is or where she comes from, though he regrets whatever must have driven her to such a direct and obvious loss of innocence.

"I wouldn't advise firing that in here until we know it won't put a hole in the wall and suck us outside. This is a space ship, and any breach could be dangerous."

Franz offers what he hopes is a bit of an assuring smile. "It looks like you found your plant."