ataraxionlogs | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ ric knows very well that hugging the girl who's pretty much his daughter ( technically is if you factor in marriages and the like ) while only in a towel is maybe a little weird. at the same time, however, he has to admit that seeing elena alive versus knowing that she's a dead puddle in the bridge sort of makes that weirdness take a flying leap out of the airlock.

any awkwardness be damned, he's hugging her as tight as he can without even missing a beat. ]

Murdering would defeat the purpose of being thankful you're alive. Grounding threats on the other hand.

[ those are fair game. ]

I'll murder you then I'll ground you.

[ hooking her chin on elena's shoulder, she wraps her arms around them both, straining her arms as far as they'll extend like she can keep them safe and together through her strength and sheer force of wanting it so badly. ]

Hey. [ her eyes fill quickly, tears leaking out to splash down and hit her breastbone and elena's back. ] I thought you were dead, Elena.

[ the words are solemn, devoid of her usual teasing. ]

[ elena's never felt more loved in her entire life than she does in this moment. she wraps one arm around alaric and the other around jenna, holding her aunt as tightly as possible and ric only a little less tightly. if she ever wants to go do something stupid on the deathship again, she's going to remind herself of this moment, and stay well out of trouble. ]

I will accept both, so long as the murdering comes in the form of a neck snap.

[ oh, god, now jenna's crying and elena can't keep the tears out of her own eyes, though she tries to bite them back. she doesn't get to cry about this, she brought it on herself. ]

I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jenna, I'll never do it again.

[ her words are just as solemn, completely serious -- never messing with the ship again. she will duck her head and play along like a good little girl and stay with her family. ]

Let's— not talk about the logistics of the murdering right now.

[ because that just reminds him that she almost died and if anything makes him squeeze her even tighter before he tries to hug her and jenna at the same time. ]

We won't let you. No amount of begging and puppy dog eyes will make it so we let you go next time.

[ it's a promise, maybe elena won't do it again but if she does he swears to god he's sitting on her if he has to. ]

And both of you don't cry. People might think it's my fault.

twenty-eighth jump;

threeway thread, y/n/cake?

but i'm catholic not a member of the church of england it's cake or death and we make you take death

can i have chicken instead

that depends on what type tbh