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

[summerlord]

"That depends on your definition of 'weird'." Elrond smooths a fold in the blanket. "It is true that I do not have the knowledge that some doctors and healers hold on this ship, but my methods are not theirs."

[foundafamily]

Now he's even more curious. Distracted for a moment, he lowers the blanket he's holding. "What kinda methods?" He knows next to nothing about medicine, but, as much as the absurdity sometimes distresses him, he's curious about foreign worlds.

[summerlord]

Elrond smooths a hand over the blanket. "I am well-versed in many of the herbs and medicines of my world, but they are not in use here." He glances at Firo, expression fairly neutral, almost soft. "I have other methods. Words to ease pain, a touch to comfort."

[foundafamily]

He looks back at Elrond, tilting his head. "That actually works?" He doesn't realize that his skepticism might be taken as rude and it's not meant that way.

[summerlord]

He takes no offense at the skepticism; he's encountered it a few times in his own world. "Usually, yes."

[foundafamily]

He shakes his head. "You'd have to show me sometime for me to ever believe that." He laughs and, if there are any left, reaches for another blanket. "It just sounds way too convenient, you know?"

Nothing gets fixed that easily in real life.

[summerlord]

He shakes his head, still absently smoothing the creases. (They are smoothed over by now and need no more attention.) "I rather hope you do not see it, then." Because if he does see it, then someone is injured enough to need it. He glances at him, expression a little wry. "But I assure you: it works."

[foundafamily]

He tilts his head inquisitively, but doesn't ask. He can put two and two together (sometimes), though the implication that a trick like that could work if things got dire is strange to Firo. All the pretty words in the world can't save a life.

Instead, because he's still full of curiosity, he asks, "How'd you even learn something like that?"

[summerlord]

Elrond's hands still on the blanket, as if he's just realized what he's been doing. Oh, well. Probably should move on from pointlessly smoothing over fabric. "I studied under the best healers, but much of it is simply a natural ability."

[foundafamily]

Firo notices and smiles wryly. "Magic touch or not, you'd wear out the fabric if you kept at it."

Natural? Firo can't imagine discovering something like that was innate in you. "That must've been an interesting thing to discover. Did you find out by accident?"

[summerlord]

He chuckles - wryly and under his breath, but it is there. Yes, he knows.

"I had wanted to be a Healer from a very young age. The interesting thing was when I discovered that not everyone had my ability."

[foundafamily]

"Really? I guess it makes sense when you can do something like that, but..." He hesitates, wondering if it'd be too rude to say what he's thinking. Eh, he'll say it anyway, "Didn't you ever wanna do something more exciting?"

[summerlord]

His lips twitch, almost smiling. "It crossed my mind a few times. Then it happened and I found that I would certainly rather remain a healer."

[foundafamily]

Firo can't imagine having a taste of action and then going back to something as low-key as a healer. Then again, he doesn't even know what being a healer is like. "Was it really that bad? What was it?"

[summerlord]

"I have lived a long time, child." Elrond turns a heavy gaze on him and it's obvious that he has seen many things in that long lifetime. "War begets heartache."

[foundafamily]

A different person probably would see that look and reconsider their embrace of violence, or maybe think about asking more questions. Though he'd like to do the latter, Firo, however, can't stop himself from bristling at a single word.

He frowns. "And in that time you've never learned not to call a guy 'child'?" In all fairness to Elrond, Firo does look like a kid. And sometimes acts like one. That's never stopped him from taking that as an insult--he's reacted worse in the past.

[summerlord]

His gaze remains sharp for a moment before he catches himself. Ah, he's done it again. It's impossible for him to think of anyone as young as some on the ship as anything but young but he knows better than some that age is not always indicative of experience.

"My apologies," he says, relenting and tone genuinely apologetic. "I have developed certain habits in a long lifetime."

[foundafamily]

Firo blinks, losing the steely look as Elrond apologizes. He can't remember the last time someone responded that way and he suddenly feels self-conscious for his own reaction. Maybe the guy didn't really mean it as an insult. He shakes his head and quickly looks away. "N-no, it's fine. Just don't do it again."

He's quiet for a moment as he tries to think of a way to change the subject. "So... you were in a war? That really must've been rough. There was one back home a few years after I was born." He hardly remembers anything, but there are still echoes of it even about 20 years later.

[summerlord]

Elrond doesn't comment on the rebuke. It's easy enough to see that it's over and done with. He will try not to do it again, but he cannot promise it completely; he might still slip here and again. It's a long habit.

A war. He supposes it could be called one very long war, since motivations were very often the same. It's too long a history to correct Firo. "My home has been under siege. With help, we won the battle, but it was a long, trying fight."

[foundafamily]

"A siege?" He's never been in one, of course, but he's heard bits and pieces about them. He knows they're nothing pleasant.

They won the battle, but what about the war? Firo's thinking of that phrase when he asks his next question, "So was it all over when you left, or..?" Firo has things to take care of back home and it eats away at him that he can't help his family. He imagines its worse when your family is in a warzome.

uh. oops.

[summerlord]

Elrond nods slowly and speaks carefully. There are those here who might be listening. "That war was ended long ago. Another was just beginning as I left."

Perhaps it's more accurate to call it a continuation after a lull.

I saw nothing, absolutely nothing!

[foundafamily]

Firo raises an eyebrow, eyes wide as if he can hardly believe what he's hearing. "You really have shitty luck. I don't think I know anybody who's lived through two wars. Maybe Mr. Yagu." But Firo's pretty sure he wasn't yet in the states before the war with Spain.

[summerlord]

He shakes his head. "I have lived longer than many."

[foundafamily]

Knowing that, thanks to the elixir, Firo would've had quite a long life ahead of him, he takes a moment to think about that. He doesn't pay too much attention to the world outside his family, but he suddenly wonders how many wars they would see. "How old? I might know older."

[summerlord]

Elrond takes the comment in stride. After all, he knows older as well. "A little over six thousand years." And by 'a little' he means another five hundred years.