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ataraxionlogs2013-12-07 11:17 pm
ataraxites) wrote in ataraxionlogs2013-12-07 11:17 pm
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- abigail mills,
- agent york,
- aidan waite,
- alex summers | au,
- arya stark,
- aurora,
- bail organa,
- beleth "bells",
- booker dewitt,
- cgombeferre,
- charles xavier,
- chell,
- chris argent,
- connor,
- cora hale,
- damon salvatore,
- dana polk,
- daryl dixon,
- dean winchester,
- death (discworld),
- death (sandman),
- derek hale,
- elena gilbert,
- emma swan,
- erik lehnsherr,
- fili,
- gendry,
- granny weatherwax,
- jaye rinnark,
- josh levison,
- juliana,
- katniss everdeen,
- leia organa,
- loki laufeyson,
- lydia martin,
- mairon [sauron],
- marty mikalski,
- merlin,
- morgoth,
- mr. gold (rumplestiltskin),
- nico di angelo,
- october bantum,
- ori,
- rebecca crane,
- rick grimes,
- robert lutece,
- rosalind lutece,
- ruby lucas,
- sam winchester,
- steven hyde,
- takeshi,
- taylor "tyke" kee,
- teresa agnes,
- thor odinson,
- tom mcnair,
- toombs,
- veronica mars
twenty-sixth 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: 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.
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.
THEY NEEDED THE REST.
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.
:D
dana stares into the mirror, shaking from the shock, and almost screams again when she hears someone next to her. she jumps back, turning to face the man next to her with an almost feral look in her eyes. there's still a part of her that doesn't really believe she can trust any of the people here, that this is some new kind of game made up by the facility. her eyes dart around them, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. ]
Yes. [ not the most helpful answer, but she's not really concerned with being helpful at this point. ]
WELCOME TO SPACE
the answer's minimal, but her reaction says plenty. josh takes a cautious step back to give her space, hands raising in a placating gesture. ]
Hey, it's fine. You're safe. [ that line sounds convincing for about half a second; the skeptical expression that crosses his features as soon as it's out of his mouth probably ruins it. maybe if he's more specific it won't be a blatant lie, right? ] You're safe for now, I promise. Do you know where you are?
AHHHH JUST AS BLOODY AND DEATH-LADEN AS HOME SHE'LL FIT RIGHT IN
The Facility? [ she watches his face closely, looking for any kind of tell that the name means anything to him. if he has any affiliation with that place, dana will... well, she doesn't know what she'll do. killing that man with the trowel had almost been more than she could take, but if she had to... if it would keep her from being used in another sacrifice... ]
please don't add his blood to that ty dana
You're on the Tranquility. It's a spaceship. [ he almost helpfully adds "in space", but he figures that's implied. there's a pause, and when he continues his tone's genuinely concerned and a little bit unsure - he has no idea if questions are going to be met with hostility. ] That's The Facility with a capital "T", capital "F", right? That's where you came from?
don't be involved in human sacrifice and she won't have to
The Facility, yeah. That's what I call it in my head, anyway, I don't know its actual name. [ towel acquired, she wraps it around her chest, breathing a sigh of relief... only to have the first part of what he said actually compute in her head. ] Wait, what? Spaceship?
what if it's indirect and unintentional
A spaceship, yes. It's— sorry, can I ask what year you're from? Twenty-first century, right?
[ best guess, going by the way she's speaking. establishing that kind of context is usually helpful for explaining the details; no point in talking jump drives with someone who just got over the invention of the wheel. ]
depends on the circumstances
Yeah, twenty-first. I'm from 2011. I take it there are people not from 2011 here?
[ the towel thing doesn't work, of course, the scars start too high, so she crosses her arms over her chest with her hands over her shoulders and her chin tucked down. that covers them better, but is more than a little weird looking, so eventually she just drops her arms with a sigh and rubs at the raised skin with her fingers.
she'll take scars over death, but these will take some getting used to. ]
no subject
josh hesitates before risking the next question, but it's asked with a lot more gentle tact than his original attempt. ]
Do you remember what happened to you?
[ it's a valid question. those scars could be from any number of monsters or animals; mostly just werewolves, where he's from, but he's been on the ship long enough not to assume. either way, people tend to forget the details (or suppress them) when actual horrors are involved. ]
no subject
most people aren't kidnapped onto a spaceship in the future, though, so maybe she could be honest. ]
Redneck zombies happened. And then a werewolf. This [ she gestures at the scars, making a face. ] is all werewolf.
[ if he doesn't believe her she'll play it off as a joke, but it can't hurt to try, right? ]
no subject
I figured. Maybe not so much on the redneck zombies. [ there's a deliberate pause while he tries to judge whether or not she's being deeply sarcastic, but spaceship in the future, right? why bother. ]
You know, those might heal. [ there's a half-hearted gesture to his own shoulder and neck, as if it wasn't obvious he was referring to her scars. ] After your first... [ full moon? shift? transformation? he's not exactly comfortable talking about this sort of thing with people he knows; talking about it with a total stranger is pushing it. ]
no subject
Yeah, redneck torture zombies. That was... [ it's too fresh to joke about, and too horrific to explain, so dana leaves it at that. the haunted look on her face should say everything that she can't, though.
the haunted look is replaced by a look of confusion at his next words. dana hadn't even considered that possibility, and is still, in fact, not considering it. call it willfull ignorance, but the idea of becoming the very thing that almost killed her -- should have killed her but miraculously didn't -- is one that dana will fight with all she's got. ]
My first what?
no subject
which is... not actually one he wants to deal with, frankly. the fact that she doesn't know catches him off-guard, dredges up memories of trying to describe it to others - nora, erin. for a moment he thinks it's better if she doesn't know what's coming. nora had said that was better, the chance to be normal for just that much longer before you got wrapped up in the terror and anticipation of it, but—
well, they're on a spaceship. there's no strict schedule for this kind of thing, meaning there's no way to gauge how late is too late. ]
Um. [ his engaged concern has taken a sudden turn for desperately wanting to be anywhere else, tone reluctant. ] What do you know about werewolves, exactly?
this month has been the absolute worst i'm so sorry
his abrupt change of mood does not go unnoticed, but dana can't place a reason, so she just files it away for later evaluation, her eyes narrowing at the other guy for the barest of moments. ]
Only stuff in legends -- silver, wolfsbane, full moons, the usual. The wolf that attacked me didn't really come with a handbook.
shhhhh gently smothers you in love and also mutual lateness
he's still uncomfortable, but the sheepish approach doesn't last, expression turning somewhat grim. his tone's level, sympathetic; the sort you'd expect to hear at a funeral, frankly. ]
Do you know how they're made?
josh this isn't going to end well you should really stop
Yes? You get bitten.
[ still not connecting it to herself. maybe she's a victim (or in this case, benefactor) of the "our werewolves are different trope". maybe she died, so it didn't take. maybe she's so far in the werewolf closet that she can see narnia. whatever she's convinced herself of, her lycanthropy is not even a blip on her radar. ]
no never
whether she catches on or not, he speaks up a moment later. ] When? I mean— how recent is it. Days, weeks?
[ it sounds a lot like reasonably good bedside manner. to the point but weirdly impersonal, like this is just about sorting out a schedule. which it is, technically. ]
no subject
Today. Just before I was brought here, actually. I'd say... five minutes before I woke up in the tube.
no subject
... did it bite you?
no subject
You think -- me? No. No way. Not happening. I almost died, I can't --
[ what almost dying has to do with not being a werewolf, she doesn't really know, but it feels relevant! ]
no subject
I almost died, too. [ it's said gently, but there's a finality to it that makes it sound more like good bedside manner than an olive branch. which it is, actually. he doesn't just casually throw the werewolf thing around; but this is like the time with erin, and odds are speaking to her had prevented a massacre. it's absolutely worth the risk. ]
no subject
Too? [ she narrows her eyes, immediately going back to being tense and defensive. ] You're a werewolf, then? [ no 'too' because dana is going to be putting off accepting that label for as long as possible, thanks, and said with a lot more hostility than josh really deserves. he's been nice, but if he's a werewolf he is automatically on dana's shit list. ]
no subject
he raises a hand at the same time, a quieting gesture. ]
Don't. [ it's more aggressive than he means it to be, and the elaboration sounds deliberately more careful. ] Not exactly something I want to broadcast. But listen to me, this is important — I don't know, maybe you're lucky. Maybe it takes more for the curse to dig in where you're from, and you're fine, but if you aren't—
[ this is always the worst part, for whatever reason. it'd been the worst realization for him, anyway, and his voice takes on an odd mix of resolve and pity. ] You could be dangerous.
resurrects this thread (but feel free to drop it if you want!)
You're damn right I'm dangerous, but I'm not a werewolf. I would know, wouldn't I? And I don't feel any different.
[ there's no way in hell the universe would be that cruel. it wouldn't send sadistic, torturous zombies her way, have her massacre a whole facility full of people, and end her life dying of a werewolf attack while the world literally ended around her only to have her turn into a werewolf herself. it just couldn't. ]