twenty-eighth 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: It could just be the standard sensation of air on wet skin, but if you bother to check, you might notice the steam rising from your body, barely there and gone within a minute. By the time you get to the showers, it will be clear that it's not just taking you time to adjust. The room is cold — colder than usual, but no worse than the last jump. While it's nothing dangerous, it's certainly motivation to hurry through the usual routine and get dressed quickly.



It's getting closer.




YOUR EYES ARE OPEN.

KEEP LOOKING.

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

[skjalf]

[ she is just hoping that this is as much a waking nightmare as her life before arriving here had become. ]

That is not how etiquette works, is it?

[ she tilts her ahead, aware now that this girl is better-born than she speaks. and elizabeth can now relate to her, because her life has also been stolen out from beneath her. she has been trying, desperately to claw back some control of her own. ]

Very well, then. Elizabeth is my given name. Should you wish to know the name of my House, you will have to give me your given name in exchange.

Is that fair?

[twicequeen]

[Elizabeth holds her closer, holding onto her as if her daughter may slip away as well.]

My boy...Edward...how could your uncle do this? [There is no holding back the tears now, her chest heaving. It's so difficult to believe there is a world where her husband has died leaving her alone with her marriage declared null and void, and her children, it's too much.

To think that Richard of all people would do this, this is something she would have expected from George.]

We have to find a way back, we have to stop them. [Her voice is still shaky but even here, she refuses to simply give up and let Richard just win.]

tara knowles | closed + ota

[steeled]

lockers : closed to tig trager

[ seeing jax alive is a gutpunch, the combination of relief and dim, banked fury making her feel a little dizzy. he hovers but they both have to dress, and once he's out of sight and headed for his locker tara sags against her own, closing her eyes and breathing in slow and deep to keep down the urge to do something— violent or embarrassing or both, who knows after what happened outside the bridge.

opening the locker one handed is easy enough, but getting dressed is something else. the zipper on her jeans won't pull smooth and the denim keeps pulling and shifting on her too-wet skin; tara curses her hand and impatience and grits her teeth, tugging until she gets it. the button is a lost cause, but jax's too-big shirt is easy enough. ]

hall headed to medbay : ota

[ sending tig after jax and promising he can find her in medical ( and swearing medical is close enough he doesn't have to walk her doesn't work, and she doesn't bother not rolling her eyes at the whole process ) gives tara space to take a moment for herself, and she pauses in the hall just outside medbay's entrance. making sure she's not immediately visible from inside or anyone walking by, she leans against the wall and lifts up her hand, staring at the blue-tinted gauze with faint distaste.

the wrappings will need to be changed soon, and focusing on that practical fact keeps her from thinking about why; what it means that her hand will need to heal, or why it needs the time at all. ]

[wolfchild]

[ she taps the brush against her knee. ]

Arya. [ since the woman expects a family name, she relents: ] Of House Stark.

[straddles]

[ tig's already gotten dressed, figured out the whole locker thing with a little bit of peering over shoulders and staring at numbers and generally being confused about things for long enough that it's a little bit embarrassing. but he contributes it to 'kidnapping fog,' or the thing your brain does when you've been kidnapped that makes it hard to think like a fucking rationale person. like he's ever been rationale.

... and like he never knew he wanted to see a familiar face as badly as he does right now.

tara's just there. trying to get her clothes on. trying a little too hard and for a few seconds he contemplates jumping on her. but he reels in his exceedingly damn strong enthusiasm and tries for a saunter.... yeah, no. instead he trails on up closer, fingers playing along the lines of the lockers until he's just close enough to lean in without moving. like he's circling around her without the threat of an incoming threat, enough to be curious but not enough infringement to be an asshole. ]

Need any help, gorgeous? 'Cause I could be here to save the day. [ always an asshole actually, but he tries to smile at her like a big ol' SURPRISE and he's here to be... something. he's here to be here and maybe that's exciting. or maybe she'll punch him in the junk, every day's a surprise. ] And can I just say you're a sight for really sore eyes, I don't think that blue shit did me any good, but really- Tara. I could help if you want it.

[capsize]

[ not televised in the enchanted forest, unfortunately. hook easily releases ward's arm when he moves away, but the tension doesn't go unnoticed.

as for the response, it doesn't actually mean anything. hook has no idea whether or not there was a battle of new york — but it does make it clear that this man's familiar with the city, if nothing else. the easy assumption to make is that anyone familiar with new york is from there; the problem is that hook's known too many people displaced from their worlds, so assumptions will have to wait. ]

And this place, is it in the same realm?

[skjalf]

I am of the House of York.

[ she tilts her head. that is a pretty name. ]

I did not mean to offend with my question, Lady Arya.

I have never before seen a wolf so large.

[humanistic]

[A family with wolves, all right. Weird, but why not. A dead deer in a locker is more questionable. A wolf eating the deer, that's pretty standard. That's what wolves do. What he gets hung up on--]

A waffle... made of meat. I'm pretty sure that's not actually a thing.

girrrrrrrl

[capsize]

[ the hostility's impossible to miss even before the woman speaks up, but if there was any doubt, that certainly clarifies her intentions. there's a slight delay while hook considers it — stepping down isn't his instinctive response, really — but then he pointedly removes his hand, flashing a smile that's far too fake to be considered polite. ]

Easy, lass. It's the only hand I've got; I'd rather keep it in fine condition, if it's all the same to you.

[ he raises his hook as he speaks, just to make his point clear. there may be some inherent threat in the gesture, drawing attention to a weapon — but otherwise, it's entirely conversational. ]

[skjalf]

[ for once, she allows her veneer of composure to slip, and she weeps. great choking sobs as she clings just as tightly as her mother is to her. ]

I... I know not his counsel, Lady Mother. [ elizabeth's shoulder shake with the force of her sobs; her mother's sadness increases her own. as though the hurt her parent feels is being absorbed into her heart.

she's so all over the place where richard is concerned. he's confusing. and infuriating. and he frightens her, too. she is pale, face streaked with tears as her mother pulls back enough to speak. ]

God as my witness, Lady Mother, I know not how. He frightens me.

[ she might as well get all the bad news out there now. she won't want to talk about it again. ]

He has brought Cecily and I back to court. And he calls me Princess Elizabeth despite his law. The way he is acting.. Mother, there is gossip.

That he will put Anne aside. [ beat. ] For me.

[ and she can't stop, now that it's all ending up out there. ]

What does he want from me? He gives me dresses of the same cut and style as Anne's. He escorts me to dinner and dances with me. I did not want any of it!

But I do not know what everyone else wants or expects. I will not have him.

And I will not have Henry Tudor, either. His order killed my brother in the Tower. Or that of his mother. I am certain.

[battlesleep]

I see.

[ Absorbing, still, and it's not just the information he's taking in. It's her stillness when he touches her hand, the sternness of her words. The lack of - he's not sure what he's looking for in her but it isn't there. Something is wrong. ]

Certainly. It will be - [ he turns to look to where others had headed, gestures in that direction. ] There is a chance they will have brought my things?

[wolfchild]

[ wryly: ] Monsters don't eat those where you're from?

[skjalf]

[ she does not know him; but he looks unhappy. when her father had been alive, sometimes she would play for him when he was not in a jovial mood. so now, she sits herself down a ways from the stranger upon the bench, sets down her small pile of belonging, and takes her viola in hand to do just that.

the tune is soft, and mournful. the instrument cannot produce a cheerful ditty.

but it is sweet and beautiful, as she had learned to play at a young age. elizabeth does not say anything, or ask anything. she will simply play, and hope that the notes lift the spirits of the stranger. ]

[wolfchild]

[ arya makes a moue. ]

She's a direwolf. Wolves are to her what dogs are to them.

[ little cousins. a pack easy to dominate. ]

[skjalf]

[ elizabeth turns her grey gaze to nymeria, smiling a little. ]

She is a beauty. I suppose I am not the first to tell you I have never heard of nor seen a direwolf before.

[ not a sight she will ever forget. ]

[wheeloffire]

[ Frodo nodded along with the new information. So he had arrived on the 28th jump. His locker was number 33. He would also sleep on the 28th floor...with the rest of those who had joined him today? Although Frodo didn't like the idea of spending a night on a ship that hovered in space, it would have to do. There was no doubt in his mind that the others here didn't like it, either.

He continued to rub at the markings, ignoring the little red mark it was starting to leave on his skin. ] How may I wash it off?

hello space pirate

[capsize]

[ while logic would probably merit treating that like the threat it is — and in his defense, hook does withdraw his hand — all it really does is encourage a broad grin. proper smuggler greetings, not unlike proper pirate greetings. ]

I doubt such a place exists. [ the amusement's plain in his voice, but despite the rude response he's undeterred from questioning. ] What realm is this?

[unparental]

Do you think I'm an idiot? [ that would not be one of the two things, but she keeps her voice down to at least avoid calling attention to them— she's had two years to compose a speech for just about everyone back home, and screaming in his face would ruin that effort. ] I'm serious. When you were flirting with me, using me to get to Elena— was it a joke how easy it was? Poor naive aunt Jenna doesn't even know vampires exist, let alone that she needs to look out for a family of them who are all apparently assholes with god complexes.

[ the call for family should matter, but all she can see is klaus; family or not she can't see anything worth chosing in him, not after everything he's done to her family. ]

If you think I'm pissed off at you because I died, you're just at the tip of the iceberg. I knew what I was doing, and I made my choice. [ saving elena mattered ( even if it didn't save her so much as delay the inevitable ) and trying to stop klaus mattered, she has to cling to her death meaning something or she's not sure she could stay at tentative peace with it. ] He was here, you know. Klaus. The family you want me to understand that you chose.

[ she smiles, tight, and it's a little sickened. ] He made me stick a knife in my chest while he explained exactly how little I'm worth. So, no. I don't understand it at all.

laughing already

[capsize]

[ it's hard to miss the flight response regardless of how quickly it's crushed. the wry response does more to confuse it than clarify, if only because hook can't quite decide if it's an awkward joke or strangely deflective.

the directness of the follow-up is appreciated, but— ]

Virginia. [ what a ridiculous name. but if he's mentioning it, it must somehow be relevant to the question. ] Is that near New York?

hello dreamy pirate i mean

[carbonite]

Realm? Geez, what is it with you people? [seriously. how many people didn't recognize that this was a ship? it was a shitty ship, but it had all the qualifications for people to get that.

that said, after a year han still hadn't learned the whole "people don't live their lives in space" like he does.]

You're on a space ship called the Tranquility. This is a lie. Your life is now terrible.

[wheeloffire]

This man smiled, and he seemed a little less mean...but Frodo couldn't help but doubt this. This man had been quite angry about something before, but now he looked...well, happy. Frodo didn't exactly trust that this man was lost in his thoughts...but he wouldn't assume.

"Thank you." Frodo didn't want to stick around. He just wanted to leave. But he urged himself together. Remember your manners, young hobbit. "Thank you for your help, sir."

[2leftfeet]

If you're lucky. [And because it'd be remiss of her not to say something--] Be careful when you open the door.

[For a moment, she lets it sit. Then Shepard looses her fingers from the knot in her towel, catching his arm to get a look at the tattoo there. Her grip is light, hands callused, She wants to be happier to see him here. Instead she memorizes the number and then turns, shoulders leading.]

You're this way.

[capsize]

[ legitimate, maybe, but completely useless as far as hook's concerned. or close to it — whether it holds meaning to him or not, the fact that the man has any point of reference implies new york is part of his reality, at the very least. it's a start.

hook makes a show of removing his hand in response to the pointed look, but it's clear he's more amused than threatened. ]

Then you know of it. [ it's a rhetorical statement, and he doesn't bother waiting for confirmation before continuing his line of questioning. ] Tell me, have we left its realm?

nope all good

[sorrycharles]

[ Erik doesn’t miss.

He lands square on his side, knocking the air out of himself with a coarse grunt. There’s a fleeting impression of bare ankles and a heel turning for purchase, but he doesn’t even get that far before Nathan’s weight closes around him and the dank shower floor falls away.

There’s some brutal twisting in the interim, bony elbows and long teeth all opposed, raw muscle coated in hagfish slime.

Not enough to spare him an explosion of sparks across a field that bleeds red to black.

A blind, flinching wrench of his shoulder does him no favors -- he hits the floor again at speed and with his eyes closed. Castoff water leads the way, breaching out into a splash upon impact. He has to scramble to find his feet, water in his eyes, blood welling thin from a split over his nose. The master of magnetism.

Ready for round two. Just as soon as he figures out what just happened. ]

[wolfchild]

You're not the sixth.

[ arya seizes the opportunity to jump on nymeria. she stumbles back with a yelp. nymeria escapes to the side but only after several good sweeps with the brush. arya grins. ]