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

[invigor]

A nice walk. Sure, we'll call it that.

[Ever the cynic, he is. Still, he motions for her to follow him -- out of the medbay and towards the elevators. They shall have a wandering adventure! Baby steps first though.]

[bearwitness]

[She follows along and she ends up walking next to him. Without her usual heeled boots... Yeah, she's short. But all things considered, Abbie's holding herself together well.

And her eyes do quickly give him a glance over, observing this person who she's temporarily teamed up with.]

So, the year 1912... I doubt being in space in the middle of god knows what galaxy was something you ever expected to happen?

[invigor]

[Well, to be fair, standing at 6'1", Booker isn't exactly a small man. He walks by her side easily enough, making an effort to not make his strides too long or too fast.

He scoffs at the question. An amused, deprecating sort of scoff.] Both yes and no. Being in space is farfetched, sure, but... being in unusual situations was turning into a habit of mine before I was brought here. Been in a city in the clouds and a city underwater -- so yeah, why not space?

[bearwitness]

[Abbie's eyebrows raise, but she nods in understanding.]

Yeah. Why not?

[The very mention of those last two preposterous concepts and being in unusual situations in general is making Abbie feel way better about things, more than he'll ever realize. At least it confirms for her that he isn't from her reality, or whatever. She's still gotta wrap her mind around this multiple universes thing.]

The person I mentioned being older than you? 1781.

[invigor]

[Thankfully he doesn't have to think too hard on the multiple realities front. However, she has got him thinking about what kind of people the ship chooses to be here. As she said, maybe they're all the sort that have interesting or unusual stories to tell -- in that case, the question of why someone or something would hope to collect these people still remains unanswered.

He'll have to add it to his notes when he gets back to his room.]

1781... [That's a big difference between 1912.] This person travelled through time or somethin'?

[bearwitness]

In a manner of speaking, yes.

[It's complicated.]

It took me a while to really buy his side of the story, but I guess the fact that a woman wearing pants made his brows raise should have convinced me enough.

[invigor]

...Well, I wasn't gonna say nothing about it.

[He's only halfway serious about that, indicated by the sliiiightest upturn of his lips. Women wearing pants is kinda strange for him to see (though in the coming years it'll become more prominent in his time), but even if he's been here only a month, he's used to it by now. And really, something like that is pretty tame in the realm of "weird".]

[bearwitness]

[The slightest roll in her eyes are made.]

I can't exactly do my job in skirts and dresses. Nice and breezy, easier to fall on your face when you're pursuing a criminal.

[invigor]

[He holds up his hands.] I know better than to argue the point with a woman. [Besides, it makes sense. If women were to be police officers, as well, he wouldn't expect them to run around in a skirt in heels.]

[bearwitness]

Damn straight.

[Back to business, small talk can come back in a bit.]

Say, do you know how we're able to breathe up here? There has to be a source of oxygen that circulates through the ship right?

[invigor]

I'd imagine so. 'Course, you're also asking the wrong person; I'm not what you'd call an expert. But there's a large area of the ship called the Oxygen Gardens. I think a hint might be in the name.

[bearwitness]

I gotta see that for myself for sure. We can probably reach it by using the elevator right?

[They are going into one and she's giving the buttons a scrutinizing look.]

What I wouldn't give for a proper map. All this tech and they can't even draw one up for us.