ataraxionlogs | twenty-eighth jump;

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Were it anyone else, it would be infinitely less so. Unfortunately, it's Lúthien and she is one of the people most expected to obey the laws of her king.]

No, I am sure you have been well taught. It is merely that it goes unspoken in Doriath. And so I have had no opportunity to learn it myself.

[Something for her to ask Artanis about later. It would be one way to pass the time here and that's something she's in desperate need of. Hiding in the gardens has already become a bit tedious and she doesn't like to bother others to walk with her if she can help it.]

Yes, he's a young dwarf I met when first I arrived on the ship. [Well, young by her standards.]

[ Frodo smiled, and looked down to his hairy feet. ] That's understandable, of course. [ Kind of. So he knew a little about the elves. But that didn't mean he knew everything, of course...

Now when the discussion led into dwarves...it had to make him think. Was the dwarf she was talking about related to Thorin's Company? Frodo couldn't remember what was left of that Company, but to meet one in person would be amazing! Of all the stories to tell! ] My uncle used to tell stories of a company of fourteen. He spoke of a dwarf named Ori once. I was just curious, that's all.

[There would be a great deal to learn about them and that's just thinking from Lúthien's point of view. All the things that came to pass in the thousands of years she'd lived through before the rise of the Sun and the Moon.]

I will be of little help on that matter, I am afraid. He did not make mention of a company but I was, at the time, distracted.

[And by distracted, she means that she was trying to weasel out information about her future from Ori.]

Oh no, don't say such a thing. [ He looks up to her, and smiles. ] You have been a great help to me as it is.

[ Frodo looks down to the flowers for a moment or two. ] I was being a little overly-curious. I'm sorry if I seemed to be prying in any way.

I am glad to hear that but much of what I have done is pass on what I was told when I arrived. I can hardly take full credit.

[She laughs softly and reaches, lightly brushing her fingers over one of the nearest of the flowers. They aren't quite so lovely as the one she grew for Nuada but that had been a special request and she had to put quite a bit of effort into growing that one specifically.]

No, no, you were fine. I do not mind questions.

[ Frodo watched as Luthien carefully stroked the flowers, amazed by how elves had such a talent. They glowed, each with their own little radiance. It was amazing what they could do.

He smiled. ] They are beautiful flowers.

Thank you. I have always had a gift with flowers. I thought that growing some here might make me feel a bit closer to home.

[She hums a few notes, watching as a few more flowers sprout up around Frodo.]

[ It was a truly remarkable thing.

Hearing an elf sing was golden enough. But to actually watch nature come to life as she hums is another thing entirely. Frodo feels himself rest, something he felt like he hasn't done in ages, as beautiful flowers bloom all around him. It reminds him of Sam, and the Shire. And how it was always warm there, and the breeze was the most lovely thing...

Frodo sighs when she's done. ] That was a beautiful song you were humming.

[It's always a pleasant feeling, knowing that her music can sooth someone, help them relax and rest. Peaceful as life is in Doriath, stress, worry and fear can still reach them there and she would often offer to sing.]

Thank you though I must admit, it is not my own. My mother taught me this song and brought it with her.

She must have sang as beautifully as you do.

[ It's a wonderful feeling. The flowers remind him of home, of the Shire. It pushes away the awful thoughts that the Ring gives him. He can feel his mind settling, like a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. ] It is a lovely thing to hear.

Moreso, I have always thought. She is the one that taught nightingales their song.

[That really is a nice thing to watch, how flowers can affect somebody. And it takes a good deal of (admittedly quick) thought before she speaks up again. Lúthien doesn't often like seeing her flowers picked but since they grow for her so easily, she can't see the harm if it helps someone.]

Would you like to take some flowers with you? To brighten your room, if you choose to stay there.

[ Frodo raises his head, and give her a grateful kind of look. ] May I...?

[ He doesn't want to offend her, though! He knows that elves are very drawn to that all that is around them. If this is the only place that could bring them solitude...would he really want to rip some away? That didn't seem fair, just for his mind being calm. ]

But what of your flowers?

I will grow more. And if they can bring joy to you outside the gardens, I think that they will not mind.

[Besides, she's offering. And she's picked more than a few flowers in her lifetime. Never excessively, her mother taught her not to do so and the reasons why.]

twenty-eighth jump;

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this is really short i'm sorry haha...

it's okay!

thank you u_u

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