dσctσr lєσnαrd ( nσ jím nσ ) mccσч (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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ataraxionlogs2013-06-07 10:56 pm
hypospray) wrote in ataraxionlogs2013-06-07 10:56 pm
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- agent texas,
- agent washington,
- alaric saltzman,
- alex shepherd,
- alex summers | au,
- am,
- anakin skywalker,
- aragorn,
- arya stark,
- bail organa,
- beleth "bells",
- brian moser,
- carolyn fry,
- combeferre,
- courfeyrac,
- daniel "danny" ocean,
- dean winchester,
- death (discworld),
- death (sandman),
- debra morgan,
- derek hale,
- desmond hume,
- epsilon,
- eric northman,
- fili,
- firo prochainezo,
- francis barton,
- franz d'epinay,
- grantaire,
- gretel,
- hal yorke,
- hannibal lecter,
- hansel,
- harry potter,
- haymitch abernathy,
- heine rammsteiner,
- hikaru sulu (xi),
- isaac lahey,
- jack harkness,
- john a. zoidberg,
- josh levison,
- juliana,
- laughing beauty,
- lauren reed,
- legolas,
- leonard "bones" mccoy (xi),
- leonard church (alpha),
- lilith,
- lydia martin,
- mairon [sauron],
- marty mikalski,
- mathilda lando,
- merlin,
- mohinder suresh,
- mordecai,
- natasha romanoff,
- nepeta leijon,
- netherlands,
- noah hill,
- nomi sunrider,
- peter burke,
- peter petrelli,
- revan "nymta",
- richard b. riddick,
- rikku | au,
- river tam,
- rose lalonde,
- rose tyler,
- roy walker,
- ryan newman,
- sam winchester,
- scott mccall,
- simon bellamy,
- simon tam,
- taylor "tyke" kee,
- topher brink,
- wheatley,
- zeke tyler
twentieth 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
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.
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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[Which... not as huge a difference, but it was an eventful period]
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Can you prove this, Senator?
[She doesn't feel a lie, but...]
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[This was easier when there was the "you should look older/younger" factor at play]
If I recall, House Panteer was on the throne of Alderaan in your time.
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[She shakes her head, perplexed]
Forgive me, I don't...think you're lying it's just a lot to take in.
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[One little succession crisis a couple decades ago aside...]
It gets very overwhelming. I don't think any two of us are from the same time.
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[He's still not sure what to even call Luke.]
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