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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.
no subject
but she's starting to ask sensible questions (well, sort of sensible questions) instead of accusing him of everything under the sun. the wry edge isn't totally gone, but it's enough to encourage a more concerned, helpful tone of voice. ]
Scotty didn't, but the futuristic medbay probably does. [ he pauses to pull up the sleeve of the red hoodie he's wearing, showing off the 010 » 046 on his own arm. ] They won't come off. Or they might, but I wouldn't suggest trying it. They're connected to nanites that give you access to the ship.
[ casually, as if nanites that've been installed under your skin shouldn't be cause for concern. the follow-up's light, a better match for her own easy sarcasm. ] But there are a few people on-board who could still hook you up with that pony.
no subject
Veronica visibly groans, her arms dropping to her sides, body going limp, staring up at the ceiling like it crashing down on her head and being sucked out into the supposed vaccuum of space would be better than having to deal with this frustration. ]
Of course it is. [ (Veronica briefly considers the whole taser thing again, but there's a lot of people with a lot of wet hair from a lot of showering, and that's probably a bad plan.) ]
Here, lemme see—
[ She's tugging on his arm. Apparently, the doppelganger thing doesn't sell, and that just gives her permission to manhandle him so she can take a picture of it. ]
no subject
if photographing the tattoos helps her adjust, that's incredibly weird, but whatever. ]
Hey, I'm serious about the photographs. I don't know if it's specific to old-school film or what, but they have a tendency to look like The Ring rejects.
[ that said, still manhandling his arm. maybe some light conversation in the meantime? ] The first number correlates to the jump you came in on; you're jump twenty-six. That's also the floor you want to aim for when you hit the elevators, assuming you ever quit taking pictures of them and actually decide to use them.
no subject
One: don't test me, Josh-Luke, I will leak that steroid story, and two: The Ring rejects?
[ Of course, Veronica's only half-listening, taking a couple quick snaps of the arm, a couple on macro for good measure, pushing and prodding his arm to get it at different angles. If the photos don't come out right, there's a lot of reasons for it, all kinds of hidden corners they (capital T) could hide a doodad. ]
Look at you, being Mr Helpful.
[ False cheer! (Though the '26' comment doesn't slip her by. 26 is— a lot, no matter how far apart the jumps are.) A fake gasp: ]
I get a clubhouse?!
no subject
[ this being him and his incredibly nerdy, planet of the apes action figure owning self, but he cuts himself off mid-thought. firstly because he realizes that's probably why the steroids became a thing, and secondly because that's not the priority. ]
The Ring. As in creepy, smudged and weird, no more faces. [ that's a thing that happens in space, didn't you know. josh is still being patient enough to respond honestly, but she's quickly wearing down that sympathetic streak. ]
And try a shoe box. But your very own shoe box, assuming you don't pick up a roommate. The bathrooms are shared.
[ the last statement is said in a way that says this is clearly one of the most irritating parts of living on a spaceship. it does make the mornings after a shift slightly awkward, but at least being locked in a room by himself means he never wakes up covered in deer blood. that'd probably be more awkward. ]
no subject
She squints at him. Then unsquints. Then squints again. ]
So I— take the elevator, try and fit a pony into my shoebox, and then— what. 2001: A Space Odyssey?
[ Which is her way of asking what exactly the point is, now that she's here in this big ol' delusion. ]
no subject
Sometimes. [ and for better or worse, this is where he drops all the attitude, trading it out for a slightly grim, tired steadiness. probably not the most comforting approach, even if it's honest. ] Sometimes it's a little more Twilight Zone or Dead Space, but head games seem to be very in lately. Space Odyssey would probably be a drastic improvement.
[ none of that really answers what the point is, though it probably implies all sorts of pointless shenanigans. even if he catches what she's trying to ask, he doesn't have a clear answer. ]
no subject
[ Yeah, that doesn't really answer any question whatsoever. She's— maybe about 10% convinced this isn't Luke, because that kind of tiredness is something no Californian kid would ever know, especially when she's seen his supposed rock-bottom. It involved literally a pianta full of drugs, a burly guy with a moustache, and a baseball card.
Really, she's seen it all. ]
Well, that sounds fun. [ She's stopped— squinting at him, though, or trying to punch him, and something seems to settle. Well. As much as things settle, when your name is Veronica Mars.
Speaking of. ]
I'm Veronica.
climbs back in
Josh. [ wait, she's got that already. ] Josh Levison. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but actually it's been extremely awkward and we're on a creepy spaceship, so— I could probably think of better circumstances for introductions.
fuels up the tank LET'S GOOOOooo
Like that time we went to high school together?
[ Because she probably won't let him off the hook until she sees something a little more concrete. Veronica makes a face, half-apology (because he does seem insistent about it) and half, you know, what the hell is going on. ]
The spaceship doesn't happen to have, you know, universal power-ports, does it? Cause if I can't play solitaire on my laptop, I'm just going to have to bother you some more.
oops got a flat tire sorry
Yeah, like that time we went to high school together.
[ blatantly just humoring her, one eyebrow arched and tone deeply dubious. ]
I'm sure you'll find something. If not, you can ask Tony Stark to rig something up for you. [ which sounds a lot like 'yes please go play solitaire and leave me alone', so a moment later: ] But seriously, if you need anything, give me a call. Did you get your comms device?
i got stuck in a traffic jam behind these fuckin' reindeer
[ Making a face. (To be fair, solitaire might actually be pretty calming, at this point.) ]
Uh, yeah, I got it. Do you— [ She waves it around, making a kind of vague gesture between it and the tattoo ID number jitterbug thingies. Nanobots, whatever. ] —plug in the number? Zoom zoom zoom?
gonna finish this thread swear 2 god
[ SO OFFENDED. but that's clearly not the priority, so the rant gets tactfully shelved for another time. also what the hell does zoom zoom zoom mean. ]
If you're asking if it's basically a cell phone, yes, it is. [ a pause for thought, then: ] But if you call me and ask for Luke, I'm hanging up.