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

[deprecate]

Dunno about that. Could've used more diplomacy last month.

[ said a little darkly, as he thinks of the transmission where the captain murdered several prisoners in cold blood. ]

Erm, there's a lot of departments. Basic overview is security, medical, food supply, and the stuff with science, technology, communications, of which engineerin' is a part. Lot have training, though. If you've ever wanted to learn a new skill, now's your chance.

[discretion]

I was never too keen on actually being the one to operate the space ship. [Franz says gingerly, not wanting to admit that kind of labor is sort of... beneath him. He wasn't like Albert, romanticizing heroic roles or anything like that. He knew who he was, more importantly who he was supposed to be, and things like putting together bikes simply had no place in his life so he quickly outgrew the fantasy.

But he supposes he is no longer a baron, and there's no such thing as a role 'beneath' someone on a ship of what are essentially refugees displaced in space and time. And Franz has always admired the honest work of people like his soldier friend Maximilien.] I suppose I'll have to find out what each job entails and see where I'd be most useful. Do you know if there's any particular area that needs more help?

[deprecate]

Everyone.

[ cillian gives a bitter chuckle, the kind that comes with the rasp of years of smoking. he shakes his head. ]

We're brilliant down in Engineering, but there's not more'n a handful of us looking after a huge ship, I mean, there's always a baker's dozen of tasks to be gettin' on with. Communications barely had three people at one point, and they keep us on air. Science department have a full laboratory and four people usin' it.

[discretion]

[Franz is reminded of Beachamp, also a lifetime smoker, and shakes his head a little.] I'll have to find out which each section is about. I've never been much one for sciences, but communication perhaps... I'm good with computers, and research.

Thank you for your advice, by the way. And for looking after Albert.

[He's so fond it's almost painful to say Albert's name, to look over to him.]

[deprecate]

Oh.

[ wow, he knows that look. the corner of his mouth twitches. ]

Yeah, that's no problem.

[ it's kind of like puppysitting, really. ]

He's an odd duck.

[discretion]

I would have used the word 'idiot', but yes, he is. But he's also a really good person.

So thank you. I really mean it.

[A pause.]

Well, I think I've held you up long enough. I still want to get a look around, so... thank you. [With one last bow, he excuses himself.]