ataraxionlogs | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Nico just looks really uncomfortable for a good minute before he opens his mouth. He really doesn't want to say it, but fine. ]

Hades.

He looks like that hot guy from Ocean's Eleven, where I'm from.

[ things you didn't want to know about your dad ]

I work for Coyote, there. He's not Greek, obviously.

I've never seen that movie.

[ Things that fly over his head, that. ]

Depending on who you ask, he looks like various dictators for me.

[ A pause. ]

American. [ Okay no, he's got to ask it. ] Do you mind Hades?

[ Which is to say do you like Hades, but what are proper words. ]

Wow. That's unfortunate.

[ Seriously, Brad Pitt >>>>> dictators. ]

Yeah. [ 'murica ]

Pretty neutral. I haven't had to deal with him much, which will probably continue because gods tend to be pretty stuck in their ways, and I doubt I'm going to the Greco-Roman underworld when I die.

Not to me.

[ Which is half fuck you my mom loved him and half I don't want to hear how hot my dad is. ]

Making sure, I'm not— I'm Italian, my American mythology isn't exactly all there. [ With the obvious, but I'm real good at Greek and Roman. ] They don't make Mytho— [ He stops himself, because he is not going to geek about the card game not like this. ]

You'd be surprised who ends up there, actually. [ A pause. ] Do you— There's a reason I asked.

Don't make what?

[ no do it ]

I don't think most are personally working for the gods of a different pantheon. Probably.

[ Nico she is not a mindreader, that is not her gift. ]

And that is...?

Nothing. It's nothing.

[ sorry jaye, you can't make him. ]

Son of Hades. I think I'd know.

[ you sure, jaye? can't he make it your gift? ]

People don't like Hades? Underworld isn't a place people want to go to?

[ don't make me say it please and thank you. ]

[ sorry bro she is all coyote's ]

I've met way worse gods than Hades. I'd rather hang out with him than most of the Judeo-Christians any day. And not just the angels or demons. [ especially considering her, ahem, soft spot for Crowley ] Their minders are fucking weird.

[ no accounting for taste. ]

It's a little strange when you're talking about my dad that way. [ but maybe a part of him feels a little pleased by it. ] Those religions are weird to begin with. [ there's a pause and nico ends up looking at the ceiling like God is going to strike him down. or maybe just his mom. ( catholic things die hard. ) ] How weird?

Edited (oh shut up i'm exhausted) 2014-01-25 08:05 (UTC)

I could go back to talking about how he looks like a really hot dude. [ js. ]

Well, there's the one demon minder who used to be a priest and only said yes to the job because he was drunk. Or the demonic minders with the really nasty powers -- can't touch other minders or they'll poison them, that sort of thing. And some really weirdly naive minders, even though angels in their actual forms are freaky looking.

Please don't. He's my dad, I don't want to know that ever. [ let him die. ]

Wouldn't that be what a demonic minder would like to have? I mean, the priest wouldn't but— [ you know. ] And I doubt the angels ever show their real form to them.