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]

But we have not even tried to. [ something she feels is a fair point. even back home, richard had never been given so much as a chance to make things right.

to pave the wave for the coronation of her brother. something she wonders now if he had ever intended to do. but that might have been a possibility. one which had been tossed to the wind and scattered.

she has already helped her mother curse someone's entire line. that, to her, is enough. her eyes are swollen and puffy, but glint with determination of her own. ]

Yes, they are. And you and I have already cursed the entire male line of whoever is responsible. That is revenge enough, and I shall do no more.

I would petition the Pope. And have my Uncle removed from the throne peacefully.

[ no more magic. she is putting her foot down, because her conscience won't be able to take any more death on her hands. it was justified, what they had done. but it does not make her feel good. ]

Yes. Suddenly I find myself fatigued anew. I would sleep, and hope to wake to a world which makes more sense.

[twicequeen]

[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.]

[skjalf]

[ but elizabeth is more like her father in demeanour. family is supposed to be sacred. she casts her mother a look of utter exasperation and fatigue, showing that they have clearly had this discussion before. ]

I know nothing save that I am sick unto death of this family eating its own.

Richard of Gloucester is family, whether or not we like it, Lady Mother. His son is my cousin. His wife is my aunt.

And we have enemies aplenty in the form of Tudor and his mother without adding our own kin to the list. So, yes. I do. He deserves a chance to live, if not hold the throne which does rightfully belong to my youngest brother.

[ no, she is not. and this has frightened and exhausted her daughter in equal measure.

if this could all be resolved peacefully so as richard and his family might retire to the north and leave them be, then she would be willing to work with the pope, and with him. but this isn't up to her. which means this will sadly only end badly. ]

Very well.

[ her smile is tightly-drawn, like her stiffened spine. whether or not her mother does magic, elizabeth draws the line at herself. she refuses to hurt any others here. or back home. ]

[twicequeen]

I will not hear any more on this matter now. He will be dealt with.

[Elizabeth knows that as long as they live, their enemies will always pose a danger. Even so, she was horrified at the death of old King Henry yet even as she watched, she hadn't stopped the brothers. If Margaret of Anjou had met the same end, she knows she would have been able to sleep more soundly.

But perhaps her daughter is right, she is the voice of her husband who is absent and Elizabeth needs that balance. Otherwise the storm would rage out of control, hurting even those she loved.]

There must be some quarters to rest in, I believe someone mentioned such things but I do not know where they may be.

[skjalf]

Nothing I say will make a difference, will it? Then you will need to ensure that yourself, Mother.

[ she will have no part of that. cursing someone's entire male line is more than enough. justice is done. or will be. whenever this first-born son is born, be it henry tudor.

elizabeth heaves a sigh, and casts a glance about. on some of the doors are numbers. she reluctantly pulls back the sleeve of her gown to stare vacantly at the grotesque violation of her person that is called a 'tattoo' and clues in.

the numbers are similar. ]

I assume the numbers we have been assigned will lead us to our quarters. Look at the doors. We need simply match the numbers on us with those upon the doors.

[twicequeen]

[Elizabeth glances at the tattoo on her daughter's arm and then back at the numbers on the door.]

It seems we must go onward, come.

[She takes her daughter's hand to lead her through the hallway. It's at least quiet and not as bright but it's still some time before the reach a door bearing the same number that Elizabeth's arm did.]

I believe this is it. [She placed her palm to push against the door but nothing happened.]

[skjalf]

[ she continues along with her mother, until they reach the door bearing the same markings as are written upon her mother's arm. but they are not an exact match to her own. ]

For you, yes. But apparently not for me.

[ she nods to her own numerals, which end in '011'. she has quite the ways to go, yet. but that won't matter if their doors won't open. lizzie frowns, and leans forward to push against it.

nothing happens. uh, what? she stares at the door quizzically, as though it has grown three heads. ]

What in God's name?

[twicequeen]

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.

[skjalf]

Mother.

[ she watches calmly as her parents works at pushing the door open, with out really making a move to help. the sleeve of her gown is still rolled up, baring numbers which differ no less from those upon the door here under dimmer light than they did in the harsh glare of the showers.

when finally the doors slide open, elizabeth wordlessly holds up her arm, to allow the difference to sink in before saying softly: ]

It seems I have been given other accommodations, Lady Mother. We will endure. But not in the same room.

I spent so long sharing a bed or cot or room with Cecily. It would do me good to have a space of my own. I can return upon tomorrow's morn to speak with you anew.

[twicequeen]

[Elizabeth turns to her daughter in surprise. But then again she has made her children live in cramped quarters in sanctuary, she can understand Elizabeth would wish for her own room.]

Very well. I will come find you upon the morning.

[It will take some effort to remember Elizabeth is not such a child as she last saw her as, as much as she just wants to make sure she's protected at all time.]

Do not forget to say your prayers and try to rest as much as you are able then.

[skjalf]

[ lizzie comes as close to making an oh moooooom look as she can given how tired she is. ]

I am eighteen now, Lady Mother. It will be all right.

It seems I shall be in the room marked eleven, should you need me.

[ but then her features soften, and she moves forward to hug her mother tightly. ]

Yes, I will. I promise. I love you, Mother. God give you a good night.

[ and with a swift kiss to her parent's cheek, she gently lets go, and turns to find her own quarters down the hall a-ways. ]

[twicequeen]

Good night, Lizzie.

[Elizabeth hugs her tightly in return, slowly getting go with a soft smile. She indulges in at least watching Elizabeth head down the corridor just in case before turning away towards her own room.

Only then does she let herself give out to collapse on the bed with both physical and mental exhaustion from the day.

Perhaps the new day will bring clarity to their situation.]