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

[specialism]

[ so she remembers just as much as he does about the abduction, namely nothing at all. it's probably a good thing in her case, because he can't imagine that it was particularly pleasant and if she doesn't remember it, that's all the better — but that he doesn't remember, that bugs him. ]

What's your name?

[ensouls]

[ wanda lets out a relieved breath at her lie being believed, then begins to fret all over again over his next question. humans have two names, but she only has the one. maybe she doesn't have to give a family name, but she wants to fit in, be as human as possible.

after a long hesitation, she speaks. ]

Wanda Stryder. What's yours?

[ hopefully mel wouldn't mind her taking her name. ]

[specialism]

Grant Ward.

[ the relief in her demeanour is noted, but not further analysed. her pauses could just as easily be down to disorientation as anything else, and ward is careful, but he isn't paranoid. ]

[ensouls]

It's nice to meet you, Grant Ward.

[ after a moment of hesitation, she holds her hand out for him to shake. as far as she remembers, that is the proper way that american humans greet each other. ]

[specialism]

Likewise. [ it isn't really — the circumstances mean that nothing is particularly nice right now, but he's willing to be polite, and so he shakes her hand anyway. ]

[ensouls]

[ wanda is a soul, she has to be polite. she doesn't really know any other way to be, unless someone is being unbearably annoying, and ward hasn't been anything but kind so far. she shakes his hand and smiles, her grip light as a feather before she lets go. ]

Do you know where we're supposed to go now? I don't see any signs, or anything, and this place is so big...

[specialism]

[ he wishes he had a better answer for her than — ] No clue.

[ a brief survey of their surroundings reveals, however, that most people who seem familiar with the place, or at least not as disoriented, are making their way into one particular direction.

they might do well to follow, so he jerks his head towards it. ] That way.