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]

[ she flicks some more at him, though with hardly any water left it would be a wonder if any drops manage to hit him. ]

You need a shave. [ she tugs on his whiskers. ] You look like a bear. A big, hairy bear.

[ she drops her hand quickly to hug herself. out of the warm spray of the showers, the cold of the room registers. her skin breaks out into goosebumps. arya fixes the towel around her so she can hide her arms under it too. ]

[bullshead]

[ he runs his hair over his face again, brow furrowing. ] No I don't.

You need to get dressed. It's cold in here.

[wolfchild]

Yes, you do. Nuada would agree with me.

[ so there. and she will go get dressed, but only when she wants to. which would be when nymeria returns, friendly now that she knows she won't be attacked with a brush again. she nuzzles arya's hair. ]

[bullshead]

He doesn't count.

[ gendry snorts, arms crossing across his chest. they're wrong, even if nuada agrees, he doesn't need to shave at all. ]

[wolfchild]

Because he has eyes and can see?

[ she shoots over her shoulder. wrapped warmly in the towel, she heads for her locker. ]

[bullshead]

Because he doesn't count. [ gendry follows, he doesn't need much prompting. it is automatic. ]

He's an elf or something, right? They probably don't even grow breads.

[wolfchild]

You shouldn't grow a beard.

[bullshead]

Why not? [ he screws up his face. ]

[wolfchild]

Because it looks like you're wearing an animal on your face.

[ once she reaches her locker, arya opens it carefully. no new additions. she feels a touch of relief. arya unties her towel and throws it at gendry's head. she dresses quickly to combat the cold. ]

[bullshead]

It does not. [ arya stop being so judgmental of his pitiful excuse for a beard. ]

[wolfchild]

[ friendship = judgment. true facts.

arya rolls her eyes and makes no response. she looks around before fastening the gold vest nuada made for her. a tunic over it quickly hides it. a variety of knives are hidden up her sleeves and she ties her sword belt last.

the locker door shuts sharply as she sits on the floor to pull on her boots. nearby, nymeria plays with the towel. ]

[bullshead]

[ gendry scoffs but makes no effort to continue the argument. he instead leans against a nearby locker and looks about the rest of the room.

if he sees the knives she hides up her sleeves he doesn't make a comment on it, looking at nymeria as the locker door is shut sharply. ]

Where are you going now?

[wolfchild]

I didn't eat before the jump. I should get something now.

[ a little pause. ]

I ought see to Engineering.

[bullshead]

It might still be hot.

[wolfchild]

That's why I have to see.

[ because dutyyyyyy ]

[bullshead]

Want me to come with you?

[wolfchild]

[ yes. ]

I guess. [ arya jumps to her feet. ] Nymeria!

[ at the sound of her name, nymeria lopes toward her, the towel in her mouth. arya takes it from her and tosses it aside. ]

Come on, you.

[bullshead]

[ he doesn't laugh, though some sort of sound leaves his mouth. gendry shakes his head and falls into an all too familiar step. ]

You serious about shaving her?

[wolfchild]

No.

[ arya raises an eyebrow at him. ]

But I will shave you.

[bullshead]

I don't need shaving.

[wolfchild]

[ she wrinkles her nose. ]

Have you seen your face?

[bullshead]

Yes.

[wolfchild]

Then you know you need a shave.

[bullshead]

I don't need a shave.

[wolfchild]

Yes, you do.

[ stark stubbornness: engaged. ]

If you don't do it, I'll shave you.

[ reaching the lifts, she punches the call button. ]