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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I would, [ Because, you know, she would. ] But then I'd have to ask if there's a warrant out for your arrest.

[ That's a joke!

Maybe. ]

[ She makes a noise that's a little chipper than her body language is, jerking a thumb towards herself. ]

This girl? Not so good with the space legs. Things are just— I just feel like I'm a little out of my element, that's all.

[ Which is completely true, of course, because she really can't blame it on him that she looks like someone else, or the random generator of the universe decided to repeat that particular set of genetics. Veronica does look mildly apologetic, resting the back of her hand on her forehead for a brief moment. ]

And yet, here we are.

[ An exhale, and she makes a little face instead. ]

I promise, I'm not— a walking static electricity rod. I am, apparently, quite testy. [ Beat. ] Sorry.

[At Luke's answer, Jaina feels like banging her head into her locker. Right. Of course he's not been told who married her dad. It figures. It really just figures.

Oh well. There's nothing to be done for it now except clue him in. So with a slight chuckle and a wry grin, she peers up at him.]

Actually, yes, you do. [A pause then, as plainly as she can manage.] She's your sister. [Another pause and Jaina realizes that there's every chance no one told him about that either. Which means she's really just stepped in it but, well, what's done is done and there's no going back now.] Leia, Uncle Luke. My mom is Leia.

Ah, yes. That sweet maid's uniform, oh how it tantalized our tastebuds for centuries.

[ Centuries? Come on, Veronica. To his credit he has, you know, slowed down a little bit, but it doesn't really make anything he says any clearer — he's not in the personnel files either, so that definitely means he's new. And yet: extremely well adjusted to being kidnapped and sent into space.

He doesn't seem to be terribly surprised by having ten fingers and ten toes, either, so that rules out alien. (Well. Probably.) ]

Alien abduction is actually not too far off.

[You'd think that Luke's first thought would be somewhere along the lines of just how excited he is to be an uncle. That, wow, his niece from the future is right here, in the flesh and he should be so grateful to know her. That's what he should be focusing on.

But, as fate would have it, Luke's first thought is more like 'Han... and Leia. Han and my sister. Leia. And Han.'

There's no logical reason for the anger to suddenly and inexplicably rise inside him as quickly and strongly as it does. I mean, Leia's his sister and Han is his friend. Logically he should be happy. But every possible voice of reason in Luke's head is just screaming screw logic.

Of course, Luke knows very well why he's angry. He thinks back to the conversation that he and Han had about Leia soon after escaping the Death Star. How Han had teased him about "a princess and a guy like me". How quickly Luke had been to shoot down that idea. How the very thought made him want to kick and punch stuff really hard.

Yes, she's his sister and he's learned to accept that but part of him will continue to feel for her the way he did before for a very long time. That feeling will be difficult if not near impossible to fully extinguish, ever.

Just as the anger is threatening to completely take over and cause him to make a scene that he really, really shouldn't, a thought occurs to him and it's probably a really good thing it does.

This is his niece from the future. Leia's daughter, and Luke's niece. Knowing about the rather awkward and inappropriate feelings that Luke and Leia once had for each other long before she was born might... well, that might be a really bad thing for her to know about. I mean, she might have already heard stories about it but if not, letting her know now, in this way, might seriously traumatize her.

So now, just covering it up and pretending like absolutely nothing is wrong is apparently the only possible way to go. Right. Here goes nothing. Luke takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, then forces the most genuine smile he can manage.

Still, all this took several seconds for him to think through. That was a serious pause while he rode through a number of emotions that may or may not have been evident on his face.]

You're... my niece?

[Forced joyful laugh. See how hard he's trying to focus on the good?]

If you need anything, you can call me? My name is Blue. Um. This is my number.

[He show her his tattoo. It has a number on it. God knows I don't remember what it is.]

Just a wanted poster.

[He says that with a smile, like it's not true.

(It's true.)]

[He knows, objectively, that a little time is precisely what he needs. He knows he ought to spend time in medical. Never before has he used his ability like he used it there on the bridge; prior to this, he'd always been careful to respect the bounds of what he's able to accomplish with his telekinesis, but there, at the door, he'd strained time and again until something broke in him, time and again - He worries he did damage, worries there will be some side effects, worries he won't be at his best.

And he trusts Veronica to take over for him. She plays bubbly and chipper and facetious, but underneath that extrovert's personality lies a keen intellect. And, he thinks, more crucially still, there's a genuine desire to do good. Veronica has proven herself, these past weeks, to be competent, intelligent, and deserving of faith.

Yet he still balks at the idea of letting anyone take over his duties. Never mind that he needs it, never mind that she's good at it, never mind that it's what he's training her to do - the thought of taking time off is...He's only taken time off once, after the...incident those six months ago. He ought to now, but...

But then Edgeworth takes a moment to look at Veronica. He listens to the strain in her voice. And he wonders if perhaps she's not asking for his sake, but for her own.]

It will be...a difficult few days. This whole incident on the bridge must be documented in full.

Your King?

[He tilts his head, curious enough about what she is saying.]

Ah--it isn't in England, lass. You will find here, some people are not exactly from the same world as you might be--though I hear about England quite often. I am in Middle Earth--part of Aule. The Mountain is also known as Erebor, but I do not doubt that you know nothing of it.

[ she was now, but she's reminded she didn't ask— ] I guess.

[ arya bites her lip. ]

[What kind of officers abandon crew for a month? William's eyebrows shoot up his face, finding camouflage somewhere behind his forelocks. He doesn't entertain exactly how much longer Emma may have been here on the ship, just yet. From the medbay, the operation had looked like it had been running fairly smooth; a crew of invisible two would suggest otherwise.

As far as he's concerned, she is native.] Right then, [he says.] Well-- [she doesn't look like an especially fangy or hostile native. Maybe that's just the shellshock. He hesitates to guess what was doing on the bridge, then, but now seems as good as time as any to find out. Crossing his arms, he props a shoulder on the locker.] keeping in mind that I've got little love for any sort of regime that crews through abduction, and I'm definitely not spying for Big Bruv up there, but nothing I'm saying seems reportable or grounds for court martial, [just covering all his bases, you know,] can I ask--

--what you was doing in the bridge?

[ her brow furrows a bit, only briefly, as she notes the sheer number of qualifiers going on there. he's being cautious - she doesn't blame him, necessarily, it's smart. it's just astoundingly unlike the way emma responds to any situation that doesn't involve emotions. it absolutely confirms that he's new, but her newness had more greatly resembled, well, yelling. ]

Trying to find us a way off this damned ship. [ there's warning in her tone as she answers, because this is the beginning of a bumpy ride. ] We work the ship to keep ourselves alive, but we don't have control over it or its trajectory. We're stuck. So, while no one's around to court martial you, there's also no one who's going to help.

[She smiles at her]

That counts for something. Connections between people are the most important thing, in the end.

'Fraid you haven't landed in a pleasant place. We haven't figured out enough of how we got here to get back working. It's been a challenge enough just keeping the ship livable for the past little bit.

[He grimaces]

And she has ways of getting inside your head.

Yes, that would be fine. [ She nods when he offers to take the crown, letting him keep instead of taking it herself. Her eyes watch his face for a moment before she moves to grab her clothes from her locker. She is quick to put on her small clothes while still beneath her cloak.]

I do not know what the ship wants or why it happens. I am afraid no one knows. [ But she does know that the nightmares are told to be horrible. She moves to pull on her dress, her voice muffled as she speaks to him again--] Some do not return but that is rare, very rare.

You know England? [Elizabeth pauses, clutching her towel a little tighter to herself.] Then there are others from my country here?

[She looks thoughtful before shaking her head.] I have not heard of such a kingdom before. This is such a foreign place, only made even more so if there are those from other worlds.

There must be a way to open this door, we simply must keep trying.

[The door is an entirely foreign barrier for Elizabeth as well. There is no knob, no handle to which grasp which may open the door. She pushes against it once more, putting her wait and only then does the door slide open with a whoosh, sending Elizabeth stumbling into the room.

She's not sure how she opened the door but she looks around the barren room, it's very basic, reminding her of something not completely unlike a prison cell. But they will make due as they had often done underneath Westminster Abbey.]

I know it is not what we may be accustomed to, but I know we can endure nonetheless.

[Problem is that he hasn't showered - never does, just yanks on his clothes and checks the Gardens and showers later - and he doesn't want to get her sticky. Sticky is kinda gross. Besides, he has a better greeting and so he does what he was going to do before she implied he was going to make out with her face. He snorts at her and leans down, does a quick one-two-three round of cheek kisses, then leans back and explains himself.]

Haven't showered yet.

[To demonstrate, he sticks two fingers onto his opposite arm, pulls them off slowly so that the noise is as loud as possible.]

His grip tightens, his fingertips depressing upon her scalp, her skin, hard enough to bruise, forcing her to look upon him.

"Little snake, slithering and sliding where you are unwelcome and unwanted, treacherous, foul spawn of your beast-bred mother." His mind reared up, coiling slowly around her spirit, as if it is a thing he can crack open.

"You will keep your forked tongue behind your teeth, henceforth. Won't you?"

Don't mention it.

[seriously. either people wouldn't believe him or it'll be extra painful when ncneill goes ahead and betrays him. han finds himself in the same situation, but at least he has two arms to fight people off.]

Come on, showers are this way.

[old coots love him. in fact they choose him and that's how he ends up in situations like joining a rebellion (he hasn't joined, he's there until he pays jabba off- that's a lie he's stopped telling himself a while ago).

he stops it immediately, remembering that he's han solo and han solo cannot connect to the youths. maybe he should have done what his wookie guardian used to do to him and just give him a small growl before -

you know what, he's not a wookie and he isn't going to do that.]

Sweetheart? Buddy? Child? Human? Pick one, any one.

If you were going to interrogate me, you should have made it worth my while.

[3.

he glances down at himself and at ward, raising an eyebrow.]

It costs extra if we're naked.

You couldn't have lied to me and said it was your pal over there? [he looks at her direwolf, almost expecting it to make the sounds that a wookie would.]

Who's idiot that threw it?

Yeah. You've been gone a while.

[ but frankly, having this conversation in the shower is absolutely fine by him because while the jumps aren't the worst things max has ever been through, a hot shower still makes him feel considerably better regardless. and the invitation — it might not have been intended as one, but he'll sling an arm around her shoulders regardless ( it also means she can't see the scars on his back; he'd like to keep it that way ). ]

Let's shower, then.

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twenty-eighth jump;

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good choice, she is such doge, much dancing, wow

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