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

[wolfchild]

[ the smack draws arya's attention. when she pieces together what happened, she looks a lot like the proverbial deer in the headlights. nymeria sneezes. ]

I'm sorry!

[ arya fixes the towel around her before getting up shamefaced to retrieve the brush. ]

[inafadingcrown]

[And by that time, Galadriel has picked the brush up, so she hands it back to Arya.]

It's quite alright; no lasting harm was done. [A little red mark on her leg, nothing more.] I am glad to learn I was not your intended target. [That's a joke.]

[wolfchild]

[ if galadriel had been, the brush would not have hit her leg. but arya keeps that observation to herself. she takes the brush with a little nod. ]

I'm really sorry, my lady. I didn't mean to.

[ please don't tell cat :c ]

[inafadingcrown]

[Now she goes to grab a towel, wrapping it around herself. And then picks up another for her hair. It's a handful, okay?]

I know you did not. As I said, there is no harm done. [She's not going to rat you out for an accident, gosh.]

[wolfchild]

[ arya gives a quick nod and hurries back to nymeria, red-faced and biting her lip. ]