twenty-sixth jump;

[ataraxites]

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: Your average, run-of-the-mill jump—except some characters don't seem to be waking up from stasis like they should.



Don't worry.




THEY NEEDED THE REST.

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

OTA: ONE STOP SHOP FOR (MIS)INFORMATION???

[testgasm]

A short time after the exodus from the grav couches, you find the following in Medbay:



>> Request helpful space--oh, maybe someone should wake him up.

>>y/n?

[toomuchtenacity]

[y.....n. Chell has located a chair and is sitting next to him. She's kinda curious about how long it will take him to wake up.]

OTA.

[needsheadphones]

[ Desmond is dead.

It’s the first thought that rings through her mind as Rebecca catches her breath on the floor, thankfully not having vomited but still with enough blue goop in her throat that she’d coughed quite heavily. She’s not certain where she is – she doesn’t remember being captured by the Templars, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. That doesn’t mean it isn’t Juno or some other First Civilization remnant that’s grabbed her, either. Desmond did free her, after all. Freed her to save the world, and wasn’t that just like him?

Dammit, Desmond. When Rebecca said she didn’t want to die, she had thought it was understood that she didn’t want him or Shaun or Bill to die, either.

Hopping up into a crouch, she shakes her head, ignoring the bits of fluid splattering away from her hair. First thing’s first: recon. Take stock of the situation; see if she can find anyone or anything familiar… though maybe not until she finds some clothes. See if she can find a weapon or some communications. Mourn later. Worry later. Deal with the now, because it’s what’s there.

Desmond is dead, but she isn’t. Rebecca plans to make sure it stays that way. At the very least, she owes them that – owes him that. They still have a job to do. ]

you were basically asking for this

[thatsaflaregun]

[Speaking of people named Desmond....

Desmond's not even remotely shy about the whole public nudity thing anymore- running naked through the jungle will do that to you, on top of this being old hat now. He doesn't usually rush to the showers, just takes his time, grabs a robe, and tries to assist people where possible.

Which is why Rebecca is getting a robe thrust at her.] Easy, sistah. First jump's always the worst one.

OTA. cw: eyes in the locker section.

[tumbleweeds]

pods;

[ People aren't waking up again.

It's just like the last time -- she would say last year, but when you've sat out for a jump as an insect, you're not on the same time as everyone else. Still, it's undoubtedly familiar, and while Jaye has to help her horse and chickens and cat and hellhound out of their pods, her eyes are still darting over the still figures. Faith. Hikaru. Neal. Tony. Ned. Robb. Ned. Sansa. Will and his dogs. Catelyn. Spike. ]

Shit.

[ And Mordecai's not coming to collect his chickens, but she doesn't see him. They're ushered together with hers, clucking and flapping their wings as Howly keeps the little flock together, invisible to most but still a good herder. ]

Shit, shit, shit. Not again.

lockers;

[ Animals and human cleaned up, the group is thanksfully used to moving through the crowds and manages to get to Jaye's locker without incident. There, Howly continues to keep the others together, quietly growling or nipping when one of the creatures gets out of hand. The shifting of wings, the irritated yowl of Tibbles the cat and the snorting of Guinevere the mare are drowned out, however, by the yelp from their human caretaker when she opens her lockers and finds four wet, blue eyes staring back. ]

Not cool. Ugh.

[ There's a bloodied jumpsuit as well, dark blue and ripped. Jaye gingerly pulls it out and away from her clothing, dropping it on the bench so the "7913" on the breast is facing up. ]

"You went looking," haha, very funny. [ It's grumbled as she goes to pull out a pair of pants, the eyes still staring, unseeing (she hopes) ahead. ]

lockers!

[growling]

[ the smell catches his attention first, which is something he'll try to scrub neatly from his memory later - mostly because it registers as an interesting smell instead of a disgusting one. either way, it causes josh to cast a nosy look over jaye's shoulder as he's on his way out. at which point he completely forgets about leaving, obviously, stopping up short to stare in a mixture of intense disgust and disapproval. ]

Are those...

[ he knows what they are, but oh my god. speaking of which: ]

Oh my god.

dana polk; pods; showers; lockers; ota

[catatonics]

(i - pods)

[ the end of the world was surprisingly calm. and not as end-y as she would have thought, all things considered. for one thing there was a distinct lack of ancient evil devouring the earth -- well, at least as far as dana could tell. she didn't really know much, stuck in this tube as she was.

as soon as she thought it, the fluid in the tube began to drain and the tube shoved down her trachea retracted. the doors slid open, and dana stepped out of the tube, legs shaky but able to hold her upright. she had no weapon anymore, but she'd realized that she could be just as deadly without one, and wasn't worried. if this was the end of the world, she was unimpressed. it looked... well, it looked like it might be another of the facility's "games", really, albeit with more people. didn't they just need five for the ritual? why would they have more people here, unless... unless the ancient ones had given them more time, but wanted more sacrifices. there must have been at least two hundred people here -- what did the facility want with all of them?

as she was thinking, dana's body began to go into overdrive, preparing to fight again. the haze that had made it difficult to think straight was chased away by adrenalin, the jelly in her legs evaporating at the same time. she started breathing faster, her eyes darting around the room, hyperaware of everyone around her -- and there were so many people, so many, if she had to defend herself she would be completely screwed, and she couldn't see marty anywhere, maybe they'd gotten him, maybe they'd finally killed the fool and she was alone -- maybe she could tear off a bit of the tube and use it as a bludgeon of some kind --

someone bumped into her and she screamed, grabbing them by the shoulders by pure instict and pushing them roughly up against the tube she'd come out of. if she was going to die, she was going to die fighting. ]

(ii - showers)

[ after it became clear that this was not some new horror the facility had decided to inflict on her, dana decided to follow the flow of traffic to the showers. she still jumped whenever someone bumped into her, her hands clenched into fists to keep from reflexively punching anyone, but she tried to keep the paranoia at bay. it looked like they were all in the same position here, and she didn't want to hurt anyone she didn't need to.

it felt good to stand under the water and let it wash away... well, everything. she was still bloody from everything that had happened at the cabin, and slimy from the fluid in the tube. washing it away made her feel more human, less like she was going to jump out of her own skin. it was in the shower that she first saw the scars.

she was barely able to suppress a scream, her lip splitting open from the way she was biting into it. without really thinking about it, she ran out of the shower, still naked and with the water still running, looking for a mirror. when she found one, she stood in front of it for a moment, frozen, before screaming. ]

(iii - lockers)

[ embarrassed by her outburst in the showers, dana walked as quickly as she could to the lockers, finding hers with relative ease. the clothes inside were the ones she had gone to the cabin in, bloody and torn and completely unwearable. ugly as it was, the jumpsuit was the only option she had, and dana pulled it out of the locker.

as she pulled it out, something came with it, dropping onto the floor with a metallic clang. for a moment, dana did nothing, standing there with her jumpsuit in her hands and the gun at her feet. she didn't want to acknowledge it, didn't know if she would get in trouble for having a weapon in her locker, knew exactly what gun it was and would have even if it didn't have the blood from marty's hands all over it.

eventually, she pulled her jumpsuit on and knelt down to pick up the gun, holding it with shaking hands and wondering what to do with it. ]

ii!

[growling]

[ there comes a point in every werewolf's life where nudity isn't that much of an issue. or you'd think so, anyway, but that doesn't change the fact that josh still goes out of his way to avoid much interaction with people until after the shower stage of the jump process, when they're either wearing towels or clothed.

or that's how it usually works, anyway. women running out of the showers and screaming at mirrors, that's not quite the status quo; besides that, most of the freaking out usually happens well before people get that far, even if they're new. he's at the neighboring mirror, dressed and trying to scrub goo out of his hair with a towel. he's been careful to keep his eyes to himself so far, but the scream's hard to ignore.

a cursory glance reveals she's not actually dying, but ignoring her still seems slightly rude. ]

Are you— [ which is when he notices the scars and gets derailed completely. he idly scratches at his own shoulder out of habit, and the attempt to follow up with a casual question is a pretty abject failure. ] Are those... new?

robert and rosalind lutece | closed (for now!)

[homogamete]

[ it has been a very long time since rosalind lutece has woken up anywhere she hasn't intended to be.

metaphorically speaking, of course. In sequential time, it's a rather different story—although she doesn't truck much with sequential time these days, nor does she deal much with the physical world at all. rosalind doesn't see the need for sleep, she hasn't been hungry in years—and she most certainly does not experience headaches that feel more like being hit in the head with an airship than anything else. it took a bit of acclimation at first, but when one is (for lack of a better term) a quantum being, one does get rather used to being… indestructible.

so when she tumbles out of some sort of experimental canister, tangled up with her brother, naked as a jaybird and covered in what she can only assume is slime, she's... displeased, to put it mildly.

honestly, it's embarrassing; rosalind and robert lutece, renowned and really rather brilliant quantum physicists, sprawled on the floor together like a couple of drunks. and to make matters worse, she's quite sure this isn't where they intended to arrive when they stepped into their most recent alternate universe, although she couldn't say with any certainty where it was they were meant to be going. of the two of them, rosalind manages to stand up first, resolutely ignoring the waves of dizziness washing over her, and nudges robert delicately with one foot. (if she wobbles a little on her feet, and has to hastily brace herself on the canister they were just spit out of, she'll never admit it.) ]

Oh, do get up.

[ if she has to suffer through the indignity of being conscious at this particular moment in time, in this particular universe, then so does robert. ]

[heterogamete]

[ robert lutece, face down on the metal grate, groans his response.

good god, he feels ghastly.

while their inter-dimensional state had seemed to manifest in a familiar arrangement of atoms—forms with which they had both become well-accustomed—neither robert nor rosalind had experienced any of the physiological needs which usually marked one's inherent humanity. they had transcended human requirements, yet... were still human—for a given definition of the term.

clearly, that's changed.

robert hasn't been this physically inconvenienced in—well, he can't... say, precisely. until recently, time hadn't exactly been a construct that applied to him. either it's been a very long time or no time at all, but considering the way he feels, he's inclined to believe it's been a criminally lengthy interval; it's as if he's simultaneously fallen from a great height and tossed many hundreds of metres into the air, suspended between two extremes. needless to say, his innards aren't too pleased with the dissonance. when rosalind's bare foot pokes into his ribs, robert slowly (and cautiously) gets to his feet, catching the clear face of the canister to steady himself as another rolling wave of nausea overwhelms him. with his other hand, he touches his nose out of habit, feeling it prickle—but it's wet with blue fluid, not blood.

well. they may be embarrassingly exposed and covered in slime, but at the very least he's managed to abstain from haemorrhaging. small favours, indeed. ]

It would appear we are no longer... scattered.

[ he's not certain if he's curious, irritated, or disappointed about the discovery; being suspended in a canister with his counterpart like some sort of specimen to be poked and prodded has not exactly done wonders for his mood... but it does beat the alternative. an alternative, rather. it's difficult to be sure of anything with his head swimming like it is, but if he knows one thing, it's that there exists a possible reality much less disagreeable than this one—whatever it is—and that he'd much prefer to be there than here. as it stands, he's none too impressed with the situation, and neither, it appears, is rosalind. ]

OCTOBER BANTUM. ota everywhere except the grav couches.

[gothchicklit]

( 1 ) PODS/GRAV COUCHES/WHAT HAVE YOU | CLOSED TO YORK

[ Unlike most months, likely due to how long she's been stuck in her pod, October doesn't really catch herself when she's released. She falls to the floor with a thunk, ungracefully, and groans loudly. Her head feels simultaneously fuzzy and like it's going to explode any moment, the bright lights above her making her eyes ache. Her fingers curl against the floor for a moment before she forces herself onto her hands and knees, trying to breathe through the nausea. She doesn't remember it ever being this bad, even the first time she woke up here.

If the room would stop spinning, or she could at least grab a towel to cover herself with, it'd be great. Unfortunately, neither seems to be an option right now, especially the latter without having to move. ]

( 2 ) LOCKERS | OTA

[ After mortifying herself by throwing up on York - literally - October manages to shower and make her way over to her locker. Everything still aches, she still feels completely abnormal, but she's hoping getting dressed and getting the hell out of here will help. If she can go lay down for a while and maybe get some water - definitely not food, no way - down, maybe she'll be human again. Maybe she'll actually make it through this.

She's moving a little slowly and isn't really going out of her way to talk to anyone, but she won't turn anyone away. Unless they're on bad terms with her. ]

[redhotsummers]

Hey sweetie.

[And there is Alex, leaning against the locker, a dog and a cat at his feet, as always. He takes a quick assessment of her status, frowning slightly.]

Rough jump?

OTA

[longestnose]

Pods

Mahal...

[Fili is staring at Kili's pod. One which hasn't opened, that still contains him, sleeping. Fili knows, inherently, that he will be fine. Everyone he has known who has found themselves sleeping through a jump, trapped within the confines, dreaming of horrible things...has returned awake the following jump.

He can only hope that the same happens for Kili.

Still, it does not help him. He needs Kili. He can feel something is wrong, something just out of his reach, tugging at him like a loose string on a sweater. But he can not see what it is, and if he does not have his brother, his mirror, to tell him, to help him see, then what will he do?

Frodo is gone, Aragorn as well, it seems. And Kili finds himself trapped in slumber...

So forgive the dwarf as he stands in the way of traffic, staring at the pod holding his brother. He doesn't mean to make a tripping hazard.]

Lockers

[Fili goes to open his locker, his movements slow and lethargic. There seems to be nothing in there to give him horror, a small consolation this month. Donning his clothing, he moves to rummage in pocket for the Arkenstone, hidden in the folds. The moment his fingers wrap around the stone, he lets out a soft sigh, feeling some strange sort of comfort come over him. It is such a small thing to have, but to possess a bit of home...it helps.

It takes a moment for him to let go of the stone, before sitting on the bench, working the tangles out of his blonde hair, thick fingers having to work his own braids into his hair.]

pods!

[emergingspirit]

[This is Connor's third jump. The disorientation is the same as it was the first time, but he's starting to create a routine (this should bother him more than it does, maybe, but if a routine helps, it helps.). Shower. Towel off. Dress. Return to the pods and see if anyone is particularly unsteady on their feet and could do with a hand up.

There are few who need a hand up. There are fewer people climbing out of the pods in general and even after two short months of this, he knows that isn't normal. Those still inside the pods seem healthy, or at least, as healthy as someone can seem with a tube shoved down their throat.

The people standing outside them are in danger of getting stepped on, though. He sidesteps and pauses a few feet away.]

A friend of yours?

belle french ; lockers ; ota

[braverys]

[ if belle was less accustomed to waking up without knowing exactly where she was she might have panicked a little more - the only thing that had really caused her real concern was the feeling of discomfort down her throat and the twisting nausea in her stomach. dropping to the floor, it takes her a moment to gather herself enough to actually lift her head and look around, to take in her surroundings -

because this isn't storybrooke.

she might not have adventured far, but she knows enough that this, all of this, cannot be part of the place she'd read and learned about, which had to mean she was elsewhere, surely? looking around her doesn't really give her any answers, either; the faces are strange and she can't see anyone - or anything - familiar. the discomforting feeling of being lost and alone creeps over her again, a weighted pressure on her shoulders, and she forces herself to stand and start to find a means out of this place: she had to be brave.

it's then that she notes the numbers on her arm and she touches them, curious - no pain, and they're not rubbing off no matter how hard she tries. doing her best to ignore the people around her, belle stumbles out to the lockers and follows the numbers. the logical conclusion is that the number, mysteriously appeared on her arm, must link to these boxes, surely? so she tries it and finds, inside, something that actually makes her smile amidst all this confusion.

anyone stumbling across belle, still looking tired and a little lost from falling out of her pod, will see her touching the rip of a chipped teacup fondly, a soft smile on her lips. ]

[boogiewoogiebugleboy]

[He's just getting his trumpet out of the locker when he sees her, just out of the corner of his eye. Blue is always drawn to that sort of thing - the fond memory of a single item, maybe because he understand the necessary nostalgia involved with strange, eccentric mementos. It is something he uniquely recognizes, something he engages in all the time, at least recently.

He steps a little closer, as he ties his trumpet to his belt loop.]

Something nice from home?

[He says it with a tilt of his head, a smile on his lips. He would say she looks new but the truth is, how can he know, when he's only been here for a single jump himself?]

Hi, I'm Blue.

elena gilbert; pods and showers

[ex_heightens219]

[ waking up in an unfamiliar location with no memory of how she got there was getting disturbingly normal. the fluid she was suspended in and the tube shoved down her throat, however, were not.

everything happened too fast after she gained consciousness for elena to even begin to panic -- the fluid began to drain, the tube retracted itself, and, finally, the doors in front of her opened. she staggered out of the tube, stumbling to her knees as her vision blurred in and out of focus. for a few minutes -- or maybe a few hours, she honestly couldn't tell -- elena stayed curled up on the floor, trying to breathe. slowly, she raised her head, blinking around her. she was in some kind of medical facility, it looked like, but not a hospital. at least, she didn't think so. there were doors off to the side, but elena couldn't see where they led, still curled up in her ball. there were people all around her, some who seemed to be just as disoriented as her, and some who were perfectly calm. immediately upon registering the sight of people`, she sat up, ignoring the buzzing in her head as she did.

as she sat up, elena noticed two things: one, that she was wearing her underwear and nothing else; and two, that there was a sequence of numbers on her arm that had never been there before. she didn't spare a thought for the former, instead rubbing furiously at the numbers to see if they would come off. they didn't so much as smear. for a moment, elena considered letting herself panic, but this had happened enough times in the past that she knew it wouldn't do any good. the trappings may have changed, but the circumstance was the same: she had been kidnapped, and she needed to find out why. that didn't leave any time for panic.

with one deep breath, elena pushed herself to her feet, forcing herself to walk steadily with the flow of foot traffic. her legs felt like jelly beneath her and she still couldn't catch her breath, but if there was someone watching her, watching all of them, she wanted them to think that she was fine. it wouldn't be good for anyone to know just how weak she was at the moment, not with... not with... there was something happening in mystic falls. she couldn't quite remember what it was, beyond a vague and fuzzy image of stefan and damon and stefan again, but it was bad, and she needed to be strong because of it. the memory issue had her closer to panicking, but elena followed the crowd toward the showers on steady legs, eyes peeled for anyone she knew. ]

<333

[coy]

[ caroline's usually little miss observant. after her first jump, she'd been pretty good with dealing with them. she got showered and dressed quickly, she found the people she cared about and headed up to her room with tyler to try and settle her stomach, to start to feel better because her body always seemed to rebel against the way the stasis tubes made her feel.

but this month it's different, she goes to tyler's stasis tube and he's still in it. she figures that maybe it's just slower than her own or something, she doesn't let the creeping panic overtake her yet. no, she goes quickly to shower and clean off. but when she comes back to see if tyler is out yet, he's not.

what does that mean?

so elena might spy her best friend, distracted, a towel wrapped around her as her hand presses to the stasis tube holding her boyfriend as if that might open it. she'd heard about this happening to others before but she didn't want to think about going a month (or more) without tyler even if she's got jenna and ric.]

SAM'S NO GOOD VERY BAD DAY WITH A RABBIT'S FOOT.

[avengeful]

[Sam hasn't really stopped to check what was in his locker over the last few jumps, to be completely honest. When he finally goes to check? His hand wanders over a rabbit's foot he doesn't even see, and from there? It's just plain misery for Sam Winchester. And by misery, I mean everything in his locker falls on top of him. That includes ANY AND ALL OF THIS. Which is just horrifying because people are not supposed to see that shit at all. Cue Sam Winchester scrambling to shove it all back into his locker.

But he touched the Rabbit's Foot. Which basically means he's cursed until that shit is burned properly. Here's the problem with that: a.) when it fell out with the other stuff, he accidentally kicked it away and b.) he has no clue that a Rabbit's Foot even exists yet on his early timeline. So... he leaves the foot there. On the ground. To be kicked around some more.

At any rate, Sam leaves the locker rooms — and proceeds to act out some particularly nasty luck. He goes to the medical bay to get some pills to calm his stomach and ends up tripping on a wire, knocking over a gurney, and effectively knocking needles, bottles, and expensive equipment to the ground. To which he probably apologizes loudly and turns just in time to knock someone over. In the hallways, he's stepping on feet, elbowing people, and generally being a bother. He also slips in blue goo and probably takes out two or three people on the way down.

Something's terribly wrong here.

He enters the elevator and, while leaving, the doors close and his jacket and shirt are caught tight in the door. Apparently, nobody is going to his floor for a while, so after a little while he slips out of his clothes and wanders half-naked to his room.

.... Something horrible is happening here.]

((OOC: this rabbit's foot is totally up for being touched so that your character has shitty bad luck too! Sam will ultimately find it stuck in a roomba's mouth in a few days and burn it good and proper.))

[faithlessly]

[ after the jump, dean does his usually checking up on the important people routine, finds only a few familiar faces still sleeping away in their pods, and then looks for sam. whom he can't find. which, you know, immediately kind of worries him. last time this had happened, his brother had gone back home to face the music of their shitty life, leaving dean behind to kick things and generally be an even bigger jerk than normal.

this jump's threatening to turn much the same, but before he lets the worry sink in too deep, he decides to check some of the normal sam hot spots out. which is what finds dean on sam's floor, finds him there just in time to see his overgrown little brother -- whew -- as sam's going to his room.

you know, half naked. ]

Sam- [ SLOWING DOWN HIS APPROACH.... ] Uh.

I didn't realize you still needed help dressing after all these years.

[ and to think he'd been worried l: christ. ]

Takeshi | OTA | Pods / Gardens / Kitchens

[throwsdown]

[Takeshi is very sad. Very sad because his parents aboard this ship? They're both sleeping in their pods. For the first four or five hours, he sits very patiently as the midpoint between Heather Mason and Netherlands' pods; they're on the same floor, with their numbers close together, so it's easy to keep them both close by. And then he waits. And he waits. And he hopes. And maybe even prays, even though Heather didn't seem too keen on the idea of it. But he has to face the facts — his parents are both knocked out. For probably days and days and days.

He sniffs hard, like maybe he wants to cry, but he doesn't.

He just waits.

Eventually, he realizes he can't just stay. He has to eat and sleep, and Netherlands needs someone to watch over all his work in the gardens (as if nobody else does; cut him some slack, he's a kid). So that's what Takeshi does — he very seriously watches the gardens and the crops, arms crossed and standing in the middle like a very determined, very human scarecrow. If people look shady, he's so going to snoop and see what they're doing. It's important. This is important to his dad, and if Heather isn't keeping an eye out, then he has to. He has to be a man. A defender, in his leather power suit! Like his hero, Muscle Rider!

He takes a break from all that to go to the kitchen and open up a can of something — spam-like? Whatever, it's space food. He just knows that as he sits on the counter and eats it, he really wishes he had even Heather's work-in-progress cooking.

Siiiiigh. Gonna be a long month.]

Pods

[toomuchtenacity]

[Netherlands is actually one of the few people she knows so checking on his pod is something that Chell does after getting dressed and de-gooed. She frowns slightly after seeing he's still out though and then pauses as she notices the kid.

Have an awkward wave kid.]

Lockers : ota

[likescats]

[Death wakes up....he's still never going to get used to that. And after getting the slime off him he goes to get his things in the locker.

You can find a skeleton wearing a black robe petting a kitten in front of one of the lockers. Totally normal right? He's also going to be looking around for two people but feel free to stare at him, or even talk. He doesn't bite.]

Re: Lockers : ota

[acapriciousthing]

[He's rather easy to spot. Being so tall, and all. And once she does, she dashes over quite quickly. And hugs him with what is probably best described as a flying leap.]

You're back!

[She may have missed him.]

Locker - OTA

[of_alderaan]

[After having a shower, Leia is in front of her locker, doing her hair up into a bun again. At least it's no longer coated in goo. She's a bit on edge and won't be relaxing anytime soon until she locates a few key people.]

[bailedontheempire]

[It was strange to have her be an adult, probably always would be. But it was so much better than wondering what was happening with her not waking.

The important thing is that he will walk right up to her and gather her up in a hug.]

It's good to see you up and about.

Coffee machine OTA / Nathan Petrelli - Heroes

[cargojet]

[ Nathan doesn't stay by the pods long. For almost a whole minute he stands beside Peter, stands over him, his face betraying no emotion at all. They've been here before, just like this, and just like before: here he is, awake through it, seeing everything but having control over nothing. It makes him want to take a crowbar to the ship, just to see what might happen, but a moment later the thought is gone, the tension is gone, and Nathan turns quietly away from the pods, heading away from them to sit beside his monthly haunt.

Izzie waits for him beside the table where the coffee machine is set up, giving one sad wag of her tail as he approaches. The mood, he supposes, must be overwhelming for a dog, especially since she's so used to Peter being there. A month with Nathan. Again. She won't understand. He sits beside her, pensively dropping his hand onto her glossy head. Inhales, exhales.

This ship is going to destroy him if he doesn't get off it soon. ]

[forgodssake]

[ Nathan is granted the courtesy of Charles Xavier declining to approach him in his underpants, so that's nice. No, it's further into the whole process, after Charles showers swiftly, after he locates his locker and extracts from it a set of clothing, dons it, and after he sweeps the room for a likely sort of person.

How that winds up being Nathan Petrelli is anyone's guess. Maybe it's the dog. ]

Knock knock.

[ No, there's no punchline, unless there's something inherently comical about Charles, which. Maybe. He's dressed casual, his hair still damp and fingercombed back off his face, small and earnest and curious. ]

Hello. Is that for everyone? [ A wee point at the coffee machine. ]

aurora ; pods ; ota

[wellrested]

[This isn't the first time that Aurora's closed her eyes and returned to a nightmare. She's almost surprised that there aren't flames, licking at the walls without ever burning it completely to ash. She still doesn't know what purpose she serves here, and the Tranquility isn't familiar enough that Aurora's completely without fear, but she does have a little more of something else this time around: hope.

She woke from her bad dreams before, and she has to have faith that she will again. Aurora pulls herself together as best she can. She needs to bathe and dress, and take the lift to her room. That's when she notices that the marks on her arm have changed, and all her confidence is gone again. Aurora sinks to her knees where she tries to pull herself back together.]

[boogiewoogiebugleboy]

[He sees the girl on her knees, and he wonders what's wrong - he normally wouldn't approach a girl like this (before she's changed and gotten herself together) because it would be at the very least inappropriate, and Blue is notoriously old-fashioned.

But he can't just leave her that way, either. He takes a careful step towards her - he's fortunately already dressed, having sped through the entire mess, his pod having opened already, and crouches next to her, towel in hand.]

Um.

Miss?

merlin ; pods or lockers ; ota

[servant]

[He wouldn't mind just lying on the floor for awhile after the pod spits him out, even slick with the goo.The shivers would probably set in soon enough and change his mind, but it's a sense of duty that gets him on his feet first. Merlin starts checking on the others, Arthur's horse included. It's eerie to walk by the pods and see some of the passengers still sleeping. But it's happened before. He tries not to let it trouble him too much - tries not to let it show.]

What do you think we'll find this time, Arthur? More leeches. Some of that soup that Gaius thinks is actually good.

[He's talking to the kitten on his shoulder this time, not the king. Merlin grimaces at what his locker might hold, which makes him even more surprised when he opens it. His book. Merlin picks it up and turns it over in his hand. He hasn't needed it for so long, but how many nights did he pour into it, memorizing every word?

There's something else in there, something that ties home and Tranquility together. He reaches in for his thin brown jacket with a sigh.]

You could've returned with it, my lady.

[But it's a selfish wish.]

none of the above oops.

[striking]

[ katniss entered the arena expecting everything to be strange, so she's perhaps less fazed than someone else new might be. especially now that she's dressed, even if it's just in the provided jumpsuit (there was her outfit for the games, too, made out of that lightweight material, but she didn't trust it with this many people around, and seeing it made her think of cinna.) ]

[ still. she doesn't expect to find a horse while she's exploring. not in an arena so devoid of trees and sun and grass. ]

[ katniss approaches warily, because this could be some new species of mutt, but closer examination proves that under the goo it's just a horse. she's not really good with animals, but she knows a little about horses; enough to know they're good meat, and maybe a way away from the other tributes, if she can stay on. katniss clicks her tongue, reaching for its nose, whispering sweetly. ]

Come on, come on...

[ the horse stamps its feet, clanging on the metal floor, making her flinch, but she holds her ground. ]

( katniss everdeen • ota )

[striking]

[ when the tube spills her out she's still crying hot tears for cinna. she feels like it was her fault, the guilt a jagged spike in her stomach: he'd designed that dress for her, and now snow was teaching her a lesson. that no-one was safe, not even her team. why else wait until the moment she could do nothing but watch, helplessly, as his mouth and nose sprayed blood with the force of the peacekeeper's blow? katniss is left reeling by the horror of it, the knowledge that she will undoubtedly never again see the wry, brilliant stylist who had believed in her. but she struggles not to fall over, not to slip on the rush of blue slime that accompanies her ejection. if she steps forward before the games officially start, her tracker will set off the mines surrounding the starter plate and she'll be blown to bits. it's with an almost balletic grace that her outflung arms shift slowly backwards, bringing her weight with it, realigning her balance until she's standing normally again, shoulders shaking with the force of her panicked breath. ]

[ katniss is already trying to evaluate the situation, eyes darting from person to person, though she's dizzy with a disorientation that she thinks might be grief. it takes her a moment to realize the people she's looking at aren't tributes — there's no finnick, no morphlings, no johanna. just a lot of other people picking themselves up and moving forwards unhurriedly. ]

[ she bites her lip for a moment — not a coy gesture of uncertainty, a hard bite, drawing blood, making her wince with the self-inflicted pain. if it's a dream, that's not enough to wake her from it, because nothing changes. ]

[ katniss grits her teeth, something close to a snarl twisting her features. she's spent the last few days readying herself to go back into the arena, and she can't just let that go, can't let the relief sink in to make her weak when there's still a possibility that this is some game-maker trap. the whole of the capitol might be watching her right now, waiting to see what she does, bedraggled katniss everdeen with her furious face streaked with stasis fluid and tears. ]

[ so she does what she knows snow would want her to do, if he were watching. she stops looking for the threat, and starts looking for her ally. lets her anger and fear become a more innocent kind of desperation. and, at the top of her lungs: ]

Peeta! Peeta!

[legionare]

[ the jumps are becoming routine, but being faced with the fears and desperation the newcomers is not something that can be dealt with quite routinely. max has more than enough metalcrafting to shield himself from the emotion so that there is no onslaught of it, so that it doesn't penetrate, but that doesn't mean that seeing a lady cry, snarl or shout for someone who most likely is not here is easy.

( he could ignore it easily enough if this were part of the war, but whatever else the tranquility is, it is more peaceful than facing the canim had been and he doubts that she is from his world, which means there is no way to classify her as the enemy. that would be an easy way to stop himself from caring. )

so instead he stops on his way to the showers. ] There's no need to shout. [ it's almost gentle, though there's a hint of humour in the words. ]

Clara Oswald | New | OTA

[parallels]

Pods.

[Well, this is new. Clara thought to herself, curled up on the floor in front of the bottom of the gravity couch as the liquid around her drained and she struggled to steady her breathing after the removal of the tube. From her prone position on the floor, her dark eyes darted around the room, taking in the white emptiness and unpleasant smell of sterilization. She had no idea how she got here. Traveling with the Doctor, one got used to being captured or held prisoner. It was the nature of the business. But she didn't remember traveling with him this week. Her entire memory was hazy. The names of places floated through her head with no image to anchor them. She saw faces she knew with no name to place.

Making a face at the sticky residue from the suspension covering her pale skin, Clara rose shakily to her feet. She was naked, she noticed vaguely but she wasn't particularly concerned. Especially not as a wave of nausea hit and forced her to slump against the wall. And on the way she may have bumped into someone else in the pod room. Covering her mouth, she mumbled an apology.]

Sorry. A bit dizzy.

Lockers.

[After the pod and managing not to vomit, Clara slowly moved towards the showers and cleaned herself up. At least the water was warm. There were other people around and once or twice, Clara thought about approaching them to ask if they knew anything but then decided a shower was probably not the best place to strike up a conversation. Once all of the nasty pod residue is cleaned off, she shuffled towards the locker rooms

"Lockers. Perfect. Now let's have a look about and find something to wear," she said aloud to herself, unable to deal with the utter quiet and stillness of the room. She darted quickly inside and moved to begin searching a locker closer to the door when she caught sight of something on her arm; a series of six digits imprinted on her skin. Her fingers brushed the newly tattooed skin, but there was no feeling of pain from recent application nor was there any way to rub it off. Then it hit her -six digits on the lockers and six digits on her arm. "Nice of them, really." She moved to her locker. She quickly pulled on her tights and dress before she remembered she was hit with an overwhelming concern.

She had to find the Doctor. The Doctor should be here. He was always here when something went wrong. She twisted her head to see if she could see his tall and floppy haired form in the locker rooms. But she saw nothing.]

Doctor?

[She called out, uncertain and a little nervous. Where was he?]

b.

[wolfchild]

[ a lot of people didn't wake up. a lot of her friends. her family. her thoughts are a dark quagmire of doubt and fear. the question manages to penetrate, and she looks over at clara, brow furrorwing. ]

Are you hurt? [ the question comes from a skinny girl wrapped in a fluffy towel. next to her, her direwolf takes advantage of them stopping to groom herself. ]

Juliana | OTA, pods, showers, lockers EAU MY

[rubblegoddess]

Pods

[It's only been a few minutes, but she's usually seen everything she needs to see by now. Still in her underwear, she's taking a quick look around. She's searching. Something's not right. Juliana is going places she perhaps shouldn't go because this isn't right. Something is desperately wrong.

Her fingers trail over the smooth surface of the pod before her, and she frowns deeply at the man beneath it. He's huge, tall, but he looks oddly peaceful sitting there in stasis.

She doesn't. The man under that glass is one of the most important people to her here, and for some reason--some distressing reason--he isn't waking up.]

Wake up. [She knocks on the pod a few times.] Wake up.

[With a sigh, she glances around to whoever is nearby and beckons them over.] Help me, please.


Showers/lockers

[She looks less beautiful than usual right now, and she'd probably be disgusted by the human form in some ways if she was paying any attention to the way her eyes have puffed and reddened. But she's upset, devastated, and almost inconsolable. In the shower, she sits by the towels, all wrapped up and drying off, but half curled up with eyes on the doorways. Maybe he'll show up after all.

When the man she's looking for never arrives, she makes her way to the lockers and dresses, but still sits quietly for several more hours, alone, watching, waiting.]

Tom | pods - lockers - wherever | ota

[loyalpup]

[Tom isn't so relaxed about seeing people still sleeping in their pods. In the time he's been here there have only been a few instances and even then it was never so many at once. He stands with his face pressed against Stiles' pod for a few moments before leaving for the showers.

Free from the goo and dressed in his jumpsuit, Tom checks on those still in the pods just one more time. He isn't being creepy just concerned that so many have yet to wake up.]

GARDENS

[It was strange not having Hal around. He's had a month to get used to the feeling, but Tom still misses his friend. Tom is quite content roaming around the gardens with no real reason; his little chores are done and the plants seem happy and healthy enough. He doesn't really want to be alone, but he can't quite bring himself to actually do anything about his loneliness.]

pods.

[a1]

[ it seemed teresa wasn't the only one concerned about the others in the pods. she'd already seen people yelling at them or banging on the weird fluid-filled coffins they all just came out of. once she was showered and dressed again, and much of the crowd had disperse to other parts of the ship, she wandered back over to gravity couches. she was told she had a room but that didn't seem as important. not when she thinks she knows one of them.

she approaches the boy in a jumpsuit, standing beside him. he looks like he could have been one of the gladers, if she already knew he wasn't. ]

So, what are they, late sleepers?

[ even though the question comes out dry and even, it's meant as a joke. ]

Elrond | pods - medbay - anywhere in between | open

[summerlord]

[Pods]
Elrond has a habit of checking in on people after a jump. If he can't find them at the showers or the lockers, he goes straight for the pods, in case they remain unopened. There's not much he can do, but he would rather know than spend any time in uncertainty. And, so, he finds himself standing at Aragorn's empty pod for a time.

Well.

Perhaps, in time, he'll find it in himself to turn away.

[Medbay]
Normally, after a jump, he might go straight for the gardens to re-orient himself. This time, he heads for Medbay. What better way to deal with this than to throw himself into work?

Not that there's a lot to work on. That's all right; he'll create a good bit of busywork if needed -- and he won't mind being disturbed.

[disfavour]

His mind aches with the severed bond from Nuala freshly abused by the jump, the loss easier to bear than the first time but keen and irritating, a reminder of just how much he has lost. Once showered and dressed, fully out-fitted with his retracted lance hitched on his back and long-knife at a hip, a damp-haired elven prince makes his way to Medbay. He doesn't expect to see anyone or anything besides humans, so when he sits on the edge of a bed, massaging his temples, Nuada fails to look up at his attendant.

"Give me something for the pain," he demands without ceremony. "Make it quick."

teresa — ota.

[a1]

pods.
[ teresa doesn't remember falling back asleep, but after some point of pestering tom and staring off into the dark corners of the empty room, she drifted off. her body had been mentally and physically tested for so many days that it probably just gave in. it was fine though, they were safe for now — nothing else to worry about. even if she wished she had tom's hand to hold onto.

when she wakes up the first time, it's violent, all hands grabbing at her and a cloth against her mouth that smells pungent and sweet. she's thrashing around and screaming out with her mind for tom, because it's the only thing she can do. then her eyelids flutter and everything goes pitch black again.

the second time, she doesn't know if she's actually awake. the feeling of gut-wrenching sickness and wanting to throw up feels very real, however. the room — the whole place — was completely unrecognizable (and spinning). she drops to the floor and puts her hands out in front of her, hunched over and eyes closed trying to get it all to stop. after being in the lushness of the glade, the cold, barrenness of the ship is jarring. it doesn't even carry that heavy weight of a dream, so strike that. maybe it's a memory? or had they been caught again? only one way to test it. she goes still, focusing on sending her thoughts to tom. tom? are you there? tom! nothing. it's radio silence.

she doesn't realize she's been concentrating so intently until someone passes in front of her. forgetting but not entirely unaware that she's naked, and her hands are slick with goo and wet dark hair sticking to the sides of her face, she hauls herself to her feet. looking around the room, it's a mixture of frantic, indistinct chatter and people rushing toward the sound of running water. again, there's no one she recognizes ... except maybe for one. she finds herself hugging her body as she stares at the pods that have not yet opened. tom? ]

( ooc; p.s. if your character is telepathic, feel free to hear her thoughts. her abilities only extend to those with telepathy. )

lockers.
[ so, nothing happened with the other pods. disappointing. other than getting the hint she needed to clean herself off and get dressed. (she was more worried about tom.) there's been no sign of the gladers, and everything just seems to be making less and less sense. there's no indication of WICKED or the rescuers from before or of anything. was this why they put her in another room? she can't remember anything other than hands around her in the darkness.

but she finds her clothes, the same ones she had been wearing before. at least they look cleaner but no less plain. she pulls on her jeans and loose long-sleeve shirt that seems to hang off one shoulder. the message on her arm was washed off by now but a pair of numbers took its place. 026 » 026. it had to be another clue. ]

Part two then, huh?

[mathematically]

[ as it stands, lydia happens to be staring at the pods on her own, and there's a part of her that remembers all of this, that remembers that sinking feeling when the pods wouldn't open almost twelve ( or was it thirteen ) jumps ago. she doesn't panic, not really until she sees that zeke is still in his pod and stiles is still in his and— so is scott and she needs to see if anyone else she knows is stuck.

but then she sees teresa there and most, some of the panic goes down because here's someone who's staring at the pods and— telling her what's going on might make her calm down. after all, she likes knowing these sorts of things, showing it off sometimes. ]

You know, it's not going to open just because you're staring at it.

ota!

[sleuthtastic]

pods

[ Oh, god. Not again.

There's panic. It's brief, it's small, but oh god is it panic, threatening to curl up inside her chest and smother her with it. It feels like she's been drugged, or intubated or had her stomach pumped — her vision blurs and Veronica thinks not again, not again, please, not again. She stays there, on her hands and knees, coughing with her throat sore and wretching and wretching, blue fluid coating her skin and matting her hair. And then—

And then, it subsides.

She doesn't know how to describe her relief, or how long she spends there on the ground. The pain's still there, she's still cold and wet and her throat raw, but the world stops swimming. She almost cries with the relief of it, her hands shaking, and it's only then that she realizes that this isn't a hospital. Or if it is, the interior decorator's seen too many episodes of Battlestar Galactica. There's a number on her forearm, too. Veronica frowns, reaches out to smear at it with her thumb — it doesn't disappear, which means it's either tattooed on or drawn on, and for a second she feels sick because what if it's another score, another tally? But she doesn't— it doesn't feel that way, she remembers a to b just not how a changed from b, just falling asleep and waking up here.

Okay, Veronica. So you've woken up surrounded in blue goo, in what is either a very elaborate prank or a complete delusion.

Get up, Veronica.

She's still on her hands and knees, willing herself to move. She's afraid — she's been afraid before, but there's nothing that calms the nerves like a good case, and there's no case better than where the fuck am I. There's a sound, and Veronica's head jerks up (it sounded like Lilly, didn't it, right out of the corner of her eye) and her throat is sore, but she manages to speak. ]

Lilly?

[ She scrambles up, slips briefly in the mess of blue goo as she scrambles to get up, starts to half-run, half-walk. ]

Lilly?!

lockers

[ On the bright side, nobody seems to want to humiliate her and steal her clothes here. She showers, she gets dressed (in her own clothes, what is this suit, she rifles through a locker and tries not to be obviously relieved when she checks her taser and it works. Another bonus: her laptop, which she slips into her bag and her camera, which she slings around her neck.

So you'll find her near the lockers and hovering around the elevator, taking pictures (of things, not people), because if this is a prank, she's damn well finding out who set it up. ]

HEY VERONICA WANNA BUY SOME DRUGS

[growling]

[ jumps are routine enough to be genuinely boring at this point, but there's one small detail that keeps them interesting - or intolerable, more accurately. they reek of fear and stasis fluid, and for the most part josh focuses on getting mostly clean and getting out of there. he's already dressed, but he's still carrying a towel as he heads towards the lifts, using it to roughly dry the last bits of goo out of his hair.

the sight of a young woman taking photos of the elevator and various other ship parts stops him up short, and he watches her with a mildly dubious expression for a few seconds before speaking up. ]

You might want to develop those in the daytime. [ a beat. ] Or whatever passes for daytime on a spaceship, I guess it's all kind of subjective.

Abbie Mills | Pods ✚ Lockers | OTA

[bearwitness]

( ✚ Pods )

[Damn it. God. Damn. IT.

Those words repeated themselves over and over again as Abigail Mills hit the floor gasping for breath. It was cold, wet, and oh yeah, it was really damn cold. Despite her small stature and the haze that plagued her senses, the young woman is able to push herself up using her hands and find a surface to lean her back against as she blinks repeatedly trying to make out her surroundings. The dull glow of lights and the sight of other people also in the same state as her only made Abbie more confused. Oh god, where was she?

First thought? Hessians. Second thought? Aliens. Third thought? Alien Hessian- wait, no that was stupid. Okay, calm down. BREATHE.

Abbie shudders and realizes that she's only in her undergarments. Well. Not the first time that happened. More importantly, she wants to call out to someone, but she finds her disorientation is making it difficult to call out to the one person she's even more concerned for than herself.]

C... Cr.... Crane??

[And yet for the first time in a while, there was no sign of him. She struggles to stand up, using the wall as her support, but it's proving difficult. If only someone would talk to her, tell her what the HELL was going on.]

( ✚ Lockers )

[She had been directed to the lockers at some point after taking a quick rinse in the showers. As she made her way towards the room, Abbie stared at her arm that had been tattooed with some sort of serial number. 117?? It didn't mean anything to her except it's where she'll find her things.

She reaches her locker and is able to empty it of its contents. Police badge? Eh. It'll identify her if anything, but useless otherwise. Bullet proof vest? On a space ship? Well... Ah, clothing. Thank god.

Abbie jumps a bit when she hears a noise and from behind her locker door she calls out with a rather even tone in contrast with her vulnerable looking state.]

I might have my clothes off, but I hope no one's gonna try anything.

[There's a sound of a handgun setting and clicking as it's filled with rounds.]

I really would not recommend it right now.

[lockers]

[summerlord]

[He had not meant to startle her; in fact, all he wanted to do was walk past her toward the medbay and get to work, but her response halts him. His voice is even and he does not move until after he's spoken.]

I would try nothing, my lady.

booker dewitt; lockers; ota

[invigor]

[His second jump wasn't that much better than his first, but at least this time it was lacking in confusion and disorientation. To a degree.

At any rate, he had been quicker about getting to his feet this time, fighting back the wave nausea with the practised confidence of an excessive drinker. Booker had then made it a point to wash up and then dress with little delay, not particularly making an effort to speak to anyone in the process. One might say the man had already become acclimated to the new monthly routine -- one would be wrong. What confusion he lacked this time around was made up in irritation, aimed solely at the fact that going through this nonsense every month was a prerequisite to his new life in space. (One that he never asked for, at that.)

So in truth, Booker's efficient jump routine is in actuality fuelled by what most people would call a bad mood.

Evidence of which is likely etched onto his features -- a downward turn of the corners of his mouth, on the edge of becoming a scowl, as he stands in front of his locker and swings it open. It's an automatic motion; he's cynical enough to not expect anything of use to him in there. He's not wrong. There's nothing.

Or... well. There's something.

A smooth black stone (small, a pebble really) sits in his otherwise empty locker. Booker picks it up, turning it over in his fingers with a look that oozes skepticism. Because, honestly, was this supposed to be some sort of damn practical joke? It sure seemed like it, but at least he didn't get his hopes up with thinking it'd be something useful. A minute or two passes with Booker lost in his own cynicism when a dull pain begins to ache in the bones of his hand.]

The hell?

[He turns his hand over, still holding onto the stone, but everything is in order, as riddled with scars as before. But every second that passes, the pain begins to blossom into something a little more painful than the moment before -- until it becomes just a bit more than what Booker DeWitt bargained for.

A short agh-! escapes him as he drops the seemingly benign stone on the ground. It lands with a clatter, sliding across the row of lockers (and possibly bumping against someone's foot).]

[bearwitness]

[Abbie has her communication device on hand (why doesn't it have a fancy name? Space gadgets should have fancy names) and is about to exit the locker rooms, but the noise of someone in mild pain catches her attention instead.

A pebble? But there shouldn't be debris here should there? She's not sure since it's barely been over an hour since she woke up and found herself on this sci-fi movie set of a ship. Her brows furrow and then she calls out.]

Hey! You alright there, sir?