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

<3

[specialism]

[ ward follows — at a steady distance, at not quite the same pace. he's good at this; it's what he was trained for. which means that losing loki once he turns the corner is all the more worrisome.

ward doesn't let his guard down, doesn't stop to look around and make a target out of himself in case this is an ambush. he keeps walking, hand on one of the guns. ]

[allfatherissues]

[Only a second or two passes before Loki's voice echoes from behind Ward, standing several feet down the corridor they were both passing through. The Trickster and his misdirections and illusions, what can you do.]

Is there a particular reason that you're following me?

[His tone is undeniably patronizing.]

[specialism]

[ ward doesn't flinch, he's too well-trained for that. he does curse internally, but that doesn't show on his face.

blandly: ] What are you talking about?

[allfatherissues]

[Whereas Ward's tone is bland, Loki's is an excellent example of patronizing.]

You. Following me. Certainly you did not think that I would not notice?

Who are you?

[specialism]

Dan Filch.

[ it's a well-established alias and ward isn't feeling particularly inclined to give loki his actual name. maybe that'll be a complication later since he has given out his real name to others, but — he'll deal with that. ]

[allfatherissues]

[Loki gives the man a condescending look; the sort that implies Really?

But he doesn't say as much, as skeptical as he may be, and instead takes a few steps closer.]

I've the who, now I require the why. You must recognize me, otherwise why else would you take the time to follow my utterly random pattern throughout the medical bay?

[specialism]

[ yes, really — he didn't expect anything pleasant from this encounter, and so he refuses to let the condescending look bother him. ]

I could have picked anyone. [ the nonchalance is faked, but it is faked well. ]

[allfatherissues]

[It's a very good nonchalant manner, looking sincere enough. Loki is well-versed in lies, though, so he isn't quick to accept that answer right away.]

But you didn't. Do you recognize my face? I wonder. [Are you from his world, he wonders. The logic would run that way; of course, all this logic is one-sided, as this man hardly seems eager to share.]

[specialism]

Should I?

[ ward is a specialist — but he wasn't just trained to be a blunt force instrument, he was trained to be capable of subtlety and subterfuge as well. ]

[allfatherissues]

[The most patronizing you've heard of him thus far follows:] Are we to go about questioning other in this way? We may be here all day; it would be prudent if you spoke a bit more directly.

[specialism]

[ how enjoyable. ]

Or you could just walk away.

[allfatherissues]

Stubborn, aren't we?

[Either way he's going to remember this man's face!! Even if he doesn't get any satisfying information at the current moment.]

[specialism]

[ ward, being the social and chatty person that he is, says nothing at all in reply and instead just looks back at loki.

this conversation is going well, isn't it? ]