ataraxionlogs | twenty-eighth jump;

Entry tags:

twenty-eighth 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: 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.

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[The entire thing is strange, even for Silver. But unlike everyone else he's not stumbling around naked for long, in fact it's only moments after he stands and realizes he's you know, naked, that he thinks up some clothes (his usual, a suit) and heads where everyone else is going, magically oddly enough, clean. But not before he sees the numbers on his arm and tries to figure out what that's all about.

Eventually however he makes his way to his locker, and while he should be looking for familiar faces, he's not sure they'll even be around. Sapphire and Steel, they weren't where he could get to them, were they? And he doubted he'd have gone this long unmolested if Lead was around, and Gold would've already contacted him.

So he's alone. Except for a bunch of humans but they're humans so...

With a sigh he starts to rummage around his locker, staring at the jumpsuit for a few moments before digging through a bunch of boxes. Which really makes it seem like he raided an office supply store with all the clips and paperclips and such in there, but he seems oddly delighted with it all and takes his time shoving it into his pockets.]

[ Nathan is at least dressed by this point; Bail lent him his jumpsuit, and it fits almost perfectly. He unbuttons his sleeve and pulls it back up folding it up over his elbow out of the way to make room for Peter and his needle. He reached up to still Peter's hand, though, meeting his brother's eyes. ]

Next time. You're pissed that you weren't there in time to protect me, but when have you ever needed me to need protecting, huh? Saving from myself, now and again, but you know what, when all's said and done, if they're stronger than me, then they're the ones who've beaten the shit outta someone who can't defend themselves. Every time one of them raises a fist to me, they raise me a rung on the ladder. It's like Reagan, after the shooting.

[ Nathan had done the same. Been shot, mysteriously survived, and found God as a result. It was a Republican thing. ]

You shouldn't be fighting my battles any more than I should be fighting yours. But I guess since I'm never gonna stop running to your defense, it's only fair you pull your weight too. Sometimes, though, not always.

[ He winked, let Peter's hand go and presented his arm. ]

That's hardly informative at all. Does no one express frustration towards this?

PODS:
[Sapphire awakens slowly, not panicking, but not calm, either. Something's very wrong. She grips the sides of the contraption she's in before gasping for air, feeling a bit sick to her stomach and worse for the wear. The feeling soon passes, but fear still shines in her eyes. She feels nothing.

The contraption tells her nothing, even as she tries to analyze it, no year, no function other than the obvious preservation of life. Shoving herself out of it, she notes that she's mostly nude as well, and covered in a sticky, unpleasant substance. No matter on that one, and even as she stands before the pod, her appearance changes without so much as a blip. Blue dress, matching earrings, hair perfectly coiffed.

Pausing, though, she takes a look around. How is she not afraid? How is she not panicking?

It's not true. She is. On the inside, she's reaching out with her mind to her partner, Steel, calling his name with telepathic thoughts and a sheer will to find him, to meet with him, to assess this and find a way to solve it. On the outside, placid and detached, but mentally she's frantic.]

LOCKERS:
[Sapphire traces the numbers on her arm, having tried to get rid of them earlier to no success. She's standing by her locker as well, glancing around now and then, then back to the sprig of flowers that lays before her. Humans everywhere, a few who seem to be a bit different. It's unusual, but nothing feels desperately out of place. That's the catch, isn't it? There's no time, nothing displaced or wrong, a deadness where there should be something, anything at all.

Nothing, though. Nothing at all. She may look slightly distressed, as though she's thinking too hard and something is vaguely wrong. Turning to whoever is nearby, she gently touches them on the arm.]

Pardon me, but what year is it?

[ well, this is new and probably troublesome. the last thing anyone needs is more doppelgangers. ]

jokingly, as if his earlier comment was a bad pick-up line or something similar. ] I agree. If you've the time, I could use a tour. [ a pointed look. ] The highlights, of course. [ he already knows the ship is huge. ]

[Relief washes over her as she finishes speaking with another passenger and spies him out of the corner of her eye. He looks mildly content at the very least, and she's glad of that much. All good company is appreciated.]

I see you have your toys, Silver.

[Good that she's not intimidated, because as gruff as Clint looks, he's still a nice guy. And he looks a little worried.]

Yeah, you're new, right. Uh... We don't know how we got here, but when we're not doing crazy sh--stuff, we're pretty okay. Managed to make it this far. [He glances around, unsure of himself.] There's a lot of us here.

( Ilde...isn't fond of London, granted, but she's not quite ready to say that space abduction is better than being safe at home with few needs unattended to. her life may not be ideal, but she's conscious of how privileged it is, even if she can't see the full extent of that from the inside. )

Different universes?

(isaac had been doing a good job of minding his own business. freshly dressed in his own jumpsuit, he navigated his way through whatever bodies happened to be in his path, careful not to touch any even as he attached a strange looking metal piece to one of forearms. it was during one of his quick glances up that he spotted silver. the oddity of his movements drew isaac's eyes right towards him, and he paused to watch.

it wasn't every day he saw someone stuffing... office supplies?? in to his pockets. it was a little weird, but isaac's paranoid sense of self-preservation determined the guy was probably-not-dangerous. possibly just an overenthusastic secretary. still, he stayed. and even had commentary to offer, how about that.) Uh, it might be easier to just take the boxes? (how much pocket space could he possibly have...)

[ at that, his brow furrows. if someone can pose a threat to elena, among others, he might not be wrong in his assumption of true danger. ]

How did you escape?

[ he clears his throat. why must he always answer for his brother's actions? ]

You have my sincerest condolences. [ and they are sincere. ]

[ oh don't worry. he gets it.

though, it's his turn to take a second and blink and try to see past the veneer of someone who looks far too familiar. like him and his 'weasel faced junkie' self, he now knows what it's like to be accused of something you aren't and well... she doesn't really sound like elle. she does, but elle wouldn't say half those words. ]

Sorry, I just. [ no, really, have an apologetic grimace-look-thing, though her edgy response is a tad... frustrating on its own. ] - Yeah, that about answers it for me. But don't blame it on me that you happen to look like someone I knew.

[ mostly he'd wondered if he was going to be put on the slab for another round of shock therapy for shits and giggles but he isn't going to be saying that out loud. ]

Pods:

[This isn't where he should be, this place has time moving, and above all else people. He can tell that even as he gets out of the contraption, wiping at his face just in order to see but not caring that he's naked. In fact he's looking hard at the people around him, looking for signs of blond hair or blue clothing and it's really only when he remembers he's naked and around humans that he thinks up an outfit.

But that doesn't stop him from looking mildly worried as he looks around, not heading the way of everyone else but instead looking through the pods and crowd for one person in particular.]

Lockers:

[After finding Sapphire and cooling back down to his normal stance on people in general, Steel has set off to find his locker. It's not home to much, but he frantically tries the box in it, just in case it's working, that it's the one box the Transients had...only to discover no, it's not. Which just makes him drop the travel chess set onto the floor, pieces scattering about as he inspects the ring instead.

He's really about as happy looking as you'd expect, line facing, even as he turns to someone, ignoring the mess he's made.]

Is this all normal?

[It's the telepathic contact that gets his attention, it's unmistakably her and Steel kicks himself when he's cleared his head enough to hear it. He's frantic himself, on the outside however as he tries to find her among the people, but he does send her a telepathic nudge though to show yes, he's here.]

Sapphire!

[ that was true, even the doppelganger thing didn't bother bela so much anymore. ]

I have a little time. [ a stretch of her legs would do her some good. she can't help but laugh softly. ] Of course. I'm sure you'd want to rest at some point. [ oh, but he was charming. ]

[Well, whatever has drawn them here was kind enough--or stupid enough--to bring them in as a team. A great sense of relief washes over her, and she turns around, looking here and there to see if he's anywhere nearby.]

Steel, what's going on? I can't sense anything.

[ jenna's already shaping a furious retort when elijah removes the chance to deliver it, and she chokes a little on indignant fury before shaking her head disbelievingly. ]

'Oooh, come to me first'. Jackass.

[ after another moment of staring disgustedly at where he was standing, she stalks off herself. at a normal speed like a non-freak, elijah.

...to go get super drunk, can't win 'em all. ]

[ Christ, but his face hurts. It's good to surprise the other man, though, get a shot in all of his own, even if he still hasn't quite worked out quite who swung at him. He'd heard a voice, seen a face, but all there had been in his head was ringing after that. Now that Erik finds his feet, Nathan identifies him, and the attack suddenly makes a whole lot more sense.

Of course. You don't just go and almost kill Charles Xavier without getting a shattered jawbone for your effort.

He rakes his hand back through his hair, brings his fists up again, broad shouldered but with a relatively open stance. He's not a trained fighter, just a bruiser (and the occasional bully). Petrellis fight with heart, not skill. ]

You got a good right hook, but in the future maybe leave the flying to me, huh?

Good to know your listening comprehension's about as good as your marksmanship. [ because someone has to remember that he hurt belle ... even if it's only via sarcastic comment on an unrelated topic. mostly, it's a means of grounding her in what now feels so long ago. manhattan had been the turning point. everything that came after happened so fast, but at the same time, felt like such a shift that everything before that moment when she'd crashed into neal felt like a different life. a much less painful one, if she'd being honest with herself.

but against her better judgment, she will at least provide him with rudimentary information. mostly because if he doesn't know what's happening he's likely to be even more unpredictable. ] A spaceship. We're flying through space, headed who knows where. [ she gestures around. ] Even my world doesn't have science like this. We're somewhere else.

It would be better, perhaps, if he didn't feel so at peace. She was powerful, yes, but not so powerful that dangers did not still lurk about the ship. Some likely in this very locker room. Which reminds her...

She glances quickly at his hand, at the chain she can see emerging from his fist.

Keep it well hidden, Ringbearer. she thinks to him. You are not out of danger yet.

Out loud, she keeps a lighter, albeit but still solemn tone. "Glad I am for your company, but I would be gladder still to see you well and truly safe."

[His arms cross over his chest, rocking back on his heels to be able to look down his nose at her a little better, an eyebrow arched pointedly. A summer ago, the implied 'obviously' would have carried a touch of humour, of fondness for the girl in front of him.

Now it just carries an air of impatience, of not being sure if she really needs the confirmation- or if her surprise stems from being just as new as he is, and discovering what the explanation of timelines actually means is a bit too much for her]

You weren't in any danger of becoming one, when I left. [At least- not until he got hold of her, but details] How?

[ Tauriel's eyes show sympathy. Her memories had been scrambled, and it had taken some time to recover herself. She knows how jarring it had felt. ]

It was....somewhat easier for me, on this occasion. The first time I awakened in that tube, I had no idea where I was - or even who I was, I am sorry to say.

Each month we must enter them again, before the jump. It is a necessity, on pain of our lives. I am sorry to bear that news, for I like it not at all.

[ Looking down, she lifts up an arrow again, and draws her knife along it to refine the shaft. ]

I have met people who have been here for years. My people are long-lived, and a year seems not very much time at all. But it is long enough, when home is far away. I am truly sorry that you have been brought here, Elizabeth. I am sorry for all who must see such times.

[He let's the time it takes him to finish buttoning his shirt, to reach back into his locker for the leather jacket he'd been wearing just before being taken- act as a natural pause in the conversation.

It doesn't much mask the fact that he needs to weight his options- with this particular family, every question, every negotiation, every suggestion leads to the same necessary consideration before acting. It simply covers just quite how desperately he thinks he needs to.

In the end, he offers to appease him with a general frame of reference. The less inclined Elijah feels he needs to push Stefan to give first, the less likely Elijah is to discover precisely the things Stefan doesn't want him to.

Besides, he'd rather leaving the pissing contests to Damon, he practically lives for those occurrences]

You are lacking a dagger in the chest. [Is that a space thing, or did someone earn a coffin against Stefan's wishes?]

Edited (no apparently not for real though oh my god i am sorry for me) 2014-02-13 15:31 (UTC)

[Elizabet's lips are set in a thin line. She never gave George a chance, even when Edward welcomed him back at court with open arms.]

Do you think he truly deserves that chance now?

[But it's what Edward would have done, he would have given Richard the chance to for reconciliation and peace.

Elizabeth was never so forgiving.

She couldn't be, she always remembered the past wrongs inflicted against her family and this would be no exception.]

Come, I am ready to rest as well once more. Everything always seems more clear by the light of the morning.

[For now she will say no more of magic. At least the line of those who killed her son will be cursed to know no male heirs, it was the least that such traitors deserved.]

[Oh. Right. Obviously.] Perhaps you should do that.

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Page 51 of 113

twenty-eighth jump;

Lockers!

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Pods + Lockers | Open!

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sorry for the delay!!

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Pods + Lockers

pods \o/

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i had to

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not according to my edits. ty for rubbing my face in it dick

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