twentieth jump;

[hypospray]

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 



Yͨ̉̈́͏̮͙́ͅơ̻̞̤̺͕̬͙̯͐̒͆̚͘ͅu̵̪͕̼̣̙͙ͮ̆͊̓̿͌͢ 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 ã̖͉̱̟̞͓̜̠l͚̼̹̟͎̙̘͍ͮ̅ȯ̧͆ͯ́ͦ͏̦̱̥n̛̹̖ͫͪͥͯe͛͌ͫͦ̒ͣ͂̕҉̠̯..


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 y͏̵͟o̡͘͡u̶̧͘͟r̨̀́̕ welcome party.

Comments

[fallasleep]

[ I'll see what we can do for that, Jion says, and Roy hates him. Hates him with a sudden passion, burning beneath his skin, because he can't help the hope that nudges at the corners of his heart at those words. And he hates hope, but he can't hate something so abstract, so he'll hate Jion instead.

Roy closes his eyes, breathes out through his teeth. He rubs his eyes with both hands. ]

Nothing. [ He shrugs, and opening his eyes, glancing momentarily at Jion. ] I fell months ago. I have no other injuries than that.

[ A pause. He looks away. ]

Roy.

[organfarm]

[ jion, of course, is entirely oblivious to the burning hatred that's directed his way, more occupied scrawling down roy's name on the clipboard in the chicken-scratch that he calls handwriting.

to be honest, he's not sure if anything can be done for a guy with spinal cord damage, but hey -- he can at least try! after all, this is space. maybe they've got super special space-medicine? ]

Okay. Okay, that's good! I mean, you know, s'bad enough ending up on a spaceship when you didn't sign up for it, right? No need for any more complications, heh.

[ a small nod as he unclicks the pen and puts the clipboard away. it's enough if he's taken down the name and injury, right? ]

Um, for now, I guess I can just try and make you comfortable? Things're probably gonna be a bit hectic for a while until everyone's done cleaning up from the jumps and stuff, but once that's all done we can get a better look at what's going on.

[fallasleep]

[ Jion is babbling, and he's far too old for Roy to even bother listening. He tunes out half way, only coming back when he hears the voice stop, and his eyes flicker sideways again. ]

I'm good enough here. [ He shrugs. ] Though water will be nice.