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]

[ typical for her time period, elizabeth has far more concerned about being modest when men are about. and there are more than a few naked ones out there -- she has tried her best not to stare. she has no idea that anyone could be a threat.

nor that katherine could have potentially been one, had she decided to be. the fact that she did not means there is a chance she might try to befriend the other woman. she doesn't have any, besides her younger sisters. it'd be nice. ]

Yes. I simply do not look forward to.. explaining things. I would not mind delaying it awhile, but I confess I do not know where to go.

[ elizabeth's composure breaks for a split second, as katherine's statement brings a flood of empathy to her eyes. then it is gone, and she says softly: ]

You have my condolences for your losses. I have seen much of that myself recently.

[ her father, brothers, uncle anthony and elder half-brother. all gone. life sucks for everybody no matter the year. a depressing lesson to learn. ]

[outliver]

[ Katherine figures that if this is a thing that happens every now and then she'll have plenty of chance to ogle the guys later on. ]

If she already knows you are here, and you already know she is younger than you remember, then there is little else to say about it. But I get it, it's probably a little to weird when combined with everything else.

[ And then Katherine gives her what might be the first honest smile since she arrived. ]

Thank you, and my thoughts are with you.

[skjalf]

[ elizabeth, too. though she is ten parts excessively shy, and five parts just curious. her mother will kill her if she ever learns of this. ]

Weird? [ a word she's never heard before. ] What does that mean?

Strange, yes. But also.. well. Things have happened. We have lost much in the last months. I do not know how to tell her.

[ elizabeth returns the smile with a genuine one of her own. ]

Of course. And you have my thanks, Katherine. You are very kind.

[outliver]

Weird means odd, strange. Rare.

[ And it's weird she doesn't know/drumroll ]

Perhaps you shouldn't? If there is something she's yet to experience, it wouldn't do her any good to worry about it now.

And please, I'm just looking after myself, in a way. I don't think anyone should have to bear with this on their own. Not you, not me.

[skjalf]

Ah. Well that is.. weird? Language certainly will evolve uniquely over the centuries.

[ hey now, she still waxes shakespearean almost. ]

Perhaps you are right. None of the news would be pleasant at all.

[ elizabeth gazes at her for a moment, and then gives her a smile. ]

All the same, it is kind of you. Even if it is only to yourself, as you say.

[outliver]

You don't even know, Elizabeth.

[ She'll be horrified once she learns of slang then, probably. ]

Then again, you're free to do what you think is best.

[ Katherine smiles back, eyes going again to the gown. ]

I say that sort of things sometimes, but I do like your company, Elizabeth. Forgive me if I sounded like I didn't.

[skjalf]

I have a feeling it will not take me long to find out.

[ and how casually cuss-words are slung about. yep. those are base, and vulgar. ]

Then I shall bide my time and see.

[ elizabeth's smile does not waver. ]

It is all right. You are kinder than my sister. I am glad that you do, Katherine. I happen to enjoy your company, as well.