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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 embalmed is a pretty gross word. He holds up a hand.]
Look, it's just time is wonky here. There's people from other planets and people from pretty far in the future as well. Fair warning, you're going to meet people older than me, and you're going to be princesses and elves--but weird elves--vampires, aliens....
More or less anything goes.
no subject
Maybe it's something in the water. Maybe Veronica is still hallucinating. Maybe, after everything is said and done, you're a lot more susceptible to everything when you're in shock.
Abruptly: ]
Are you an alien?
no subject
[She's got a bit of a fast mind, hasn't she. He glances down at his right hand, like perhaps it's changed to be green and slimy when he wasn't looking. Normal wizard hand.]
Close, maybe-- I'm English. And a wizard.
[It used to be weird, admitting that, statutes of secrecy and all, but being in space has sort of made him immune to that weirdness.]
We've some aliens, though, I think. Just a handful.
no subject
[ HAHA HA HA HA ha ah aha aha ah ah what. ]
Like, is this your card? Where's your robes and the pointy hat!
no subject
Certain occasions only. And I don't do hats. Are you going to ask me about my beard yet, because I don't know that I could pull that one off. [Thoughtfully, he gets out his wand, tapping it against the palm if his hand.] D'you want to find out?
no subject
Pointedly: ]
If you can grow a beard, I will find a hat and eat it.
[ Ha. ]
no subject
Oh, really. And are you the sort of girl that keeps her promises? Because I'd start looking for a hat, if I were you.
[Because here goes nothing. Usually magical hair growth involves potions--but that's for permanent effect, right. If you want a beard that expires in three minutes or less, you can do that one with a charm, easy--classic prank, it's just a matter of turning it on himself. Sirius squints down his nose toward his own chin, briefly cross-eyed--and then, with a flourish, he taps his chin.]
Celero capillus--
[There's a beat, and then a drawn out creaking sound, like rubber being stretched ver-r-r-ry slowly, and then all at once, a full beard pops into life, moustache and all, right on Sirius' face. It's a very dark and handsome beard, with a few bits of white in, oooh, so distinguished. Also so temporary, but he never said it would be a beard that lasts, right.]
What do muggle magicians always say? Oh, yeah-- presto.
[jazz hands!]
no subject
..................
]
Uh.
[ At first, she's sure she's imagining the creaking sound — spaceship, not so much with the creakage. But then something smears across his chin, and Veronica squints, makes the mistake of leaning forward as if she's about to brush crumbs off his person — and then yelps when the whole thing pops from his face. Distinguished? More like terrifying. ]
—what?
[ ... ]
Am I dreaming? I feel like I might be dreaming.
no subject
Does that mean you don't like it?
[Can you put with a beard without losing an element of manliness? Well, Sirius is going to try, anyways; he affects the smallest of pouts.]
I'd offer to let you tug on it to check the reality of it, but I'm afraid we don't know each other quite well enough for that just yet. Sorry. Maybe later. And no, you're not dreaming, it's magic, because as I said: wizard.
no subject
—because in my dreams I'm usually naked.
[ She just— rubs her hands over her face, like maybe that will fix the sound of her breaking suspension of disbelief. And then there's a sharp look in her eye, because she decides to reach into his personal space and tugs at his newly minted beard anyway, and it's most definitely a tug rather than a gentle pull.
With the air of someone who, you know, can believe this: ]
I am losing my mind.
no subject
[Because usually naked, eh, how interesting-- and then, ow--]
Ow, ow-- ow, that's fixed on--
[That's because she's tugging at his beard, which is not appreciated. Wincing, he tries to pull away without, you know, ripping his brand new beard out of her grip.]
You aren't going mad. I swear. This is all very, unfortunately sometimes, real.
no subject
[ In her disbelief, Veronica is still most definitely tugging on this thing, though it's at least a little more gentle than her first what-is-going-on tug. ]
Is this, like, your superpower?
[ Growing face-pubes? ]
no subject
[respect this beard please. he doesn't dare try and pull away, because that would hurt even more, but he pulls a face and leans back, sort of.]
It's magic. I'm a wizard. I can do nearly anything, this is just one thing to prove it to you. And if you'd stop pulling on it, please, I'd like to make it go away 'cos it's itchy and attached to my face so, like I said, this does sort of hurt...
no subject
This is crazy.
[ You've already said that, Veronica. Let's focus on the interesting, like— ]
Anything?
[ Pause. ]
So you can presto-chango get us out of here?
no subject
[and. well. about that, we-ellllll, and here he screws up his face a little and looks away, guiltily, kicking at the floor. this might look a little stupid as, y'know, he's still got a very manly beard affixed to his face. manly bearded men aren't allowed to look so embarrassed and slightly dejected.]
I did say 'nearly anything', didn't I. So--er--no. Not that one. Sorry. This ship is generally pretty fair with my magic, but it's not keen on giving me that total escape.