mathematically: (pic#5013725)
lчdíα ( вєttєr thαn αnч σthєr αlphα ) mαrtín ([personal profile] mathematically) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2013-05-07 11:13 pm

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.
whynotzoidberg: (I prescribe makeup)

[personal profile] whynotzoidberg 2013-05-16 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh sure - You have your humans and row-bits and sewer mutants and a bunch of aliens nobody cares about - like me!" He pointed to himself enthusiastically with that last bit.

He had to shrug at that last question, though. "Don't ask me. I just woke up here. I'm just following the crowd!"
organfarm: (✚ 004)

[personal profile] organfarm 2013-05-18 07:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"... huh. Same here. I mean -- just waking up here and following the crowd. Guess we just gotta ask around and figure out what to do."

A small sigh before he gives Zoidberg a slightly awkward attempt at an encouraging smile. "But hey, c'mon, we'll be alright! I'm sure there's gonna be people here who care about you, y'know? There's gotta be a reason we ended up here?"
whynotzoidberg: (Look at this!)

[personal profile] whynotzoidberg 2013-05-20 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh sure, I'm sure it'll be fine! It's shaping up to be a great place already!" He shrugged slightly, but it was more of a delighted shrug.

"A free shower, a free outfit, free laundry! Oh, the list goes on!" He smiled as much as he was able, being genuinely happy to be here. It was probably a dream, most likely. Or maybe he fell asleep in one of the Professor's new inventions.
organfarm: (✚ 002)

[personal profile] organfarm 2013-05-21 03:52 pm (UTC)(link)
"Free shower, free outfit, free laundry ..." A small tilt of the head as Jion repeats that list. Honestly, it sounds more like what they hand out at homeless shelters than any sorta grand gift, but hey, who's he to judge a weird lobster-tentacle-alien-thing for having interesting priorities?

"Yeah, I'm sure things'll work out. Hey, keep in touch if you figure more out about what goes on here, okay? I'll do the same for ya." He holds a hand out to shake, grinning. "I'm Jion, by the way."
whynotzoidberg: (Why not Zoidberg?)

[personal profile] whynotzoidberg 2013-05-21 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Zoidberg had never really considered homeless shelters, mostly because they had degraded so horribly in the future that they offered none of those amenities. Besides, he was a doctor, and he had a home....... in a dumpster.

"Sure, sure, I'll contact you once I figure things out." He waved a claw in a slightly dismissive manner. "I think I'll see if this place has a free buffet!" He began to shuffle away, licking his mouth tendrils in anticipation.