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

[woodlander]

[ Tauriel nods, just very slightly. She understands the desire to learn of other cultures. It's something that interests her as well, particularly since she had little chance to learn it among her own people in Mirkwood. ]

I think it likely that my people are quite different from yours. You are born of Men, and in Middle Earth, they have their own lands far from those where Elfkind reigns. My people trade with some of them, to an extent.

But that is not for me to know. The protection of the realm is my business - though it belongs to my prince as much as I. Often he fights by the side of the guard. That is his role.

Would it not be so, where you are from, my lady?

[skjalf]

[ lizzie has had quite the broad education for her time, but there is much she still does not know. now that she has a chance to learn, she is fascinated. ]

I do believe so. If you are indeed an elf, my lady, then there are creatures of the same name but different disposition in legend where I hail from.

From what little I have read, they are considered interchangeable with the fairies, beings who are ageless and full of mischief. They have their own world, separated from mine by a veil, or something of the like. I have not read much of them.

You are not at all as they are described. It is most interesting.

[ from legends to fighting, the topics could not be any less alike. it's refreshing for her. lizzie shakes her head automatically. ]

Nay, not at all. That would be the province of my father and my brothers to protect myself, mother, sisters, and the realm. Women are not permitted to fight. If they do.. well.

[ she bites her lip. ] There was one who dared, and she was declared mad.

[ which seems foolish to her. ]

[woodlander]

There are those here who call themselves faeries. They look somewhat similar to my people.

[ Nuada, and Nuala. ]

In the gardens, you would see them. How do your stories describe us?

[ Listening to Elizabeth's description of the role of women, Tauriel nods gently. There's no real sense of disbelief on her face. She is a proven warrior among her people, but she knows that soldiers are male for the most part. Especially among the race of Men. They like their women kept inside. ]

I think it not mad to wish to fight. I would not do very well in that confine, I think. I was made to be a protector.

But all have their place. You are a noble lady. Yet even still, if you wished to learn, I am certain that you could. You could request it. Yours is a voice that must be listened to, is it not?

[skjalf]

They do? Oh.. oh my. I would very much like to meet them.

[ if they're real. but she's talking to a bonafide elf. so maybe they are. ]

I have not heard much, my lady. Much was lost after my country was conquered by Rome. But from the few stories I have heard, the fae do not get on well with humans.

In fact, the fae were feared and branded mere mischief-makers. But..

[ she looks around the wide expanse of the gardens, and then back at tauriel. ]

It is easier to fear something unknown than to understand it. A trap I would rather not fall into.

Your voice would be more readily listened to than my own. That may surprise you. But I have no authority. That was for my parents, and now my uncle. Is that strange, that I do not?

[woodlander]

It is.

[ And yet perhaps it’s not. Thranduil would be listened to before Legolas, after all. Perhaps it is to do with age. But still she would say that the rightful queen’s voice should be heard, over and above that of her guardian.

Human politics are strange, however. She would not pretend to understand them. ]

Does he speak in your place, until you ascend in his stead? I have heard of such things, though never seen them, for in my lifetime always has Thranduil been the Elvenking.

[skjalf]

I will not ascend in his stead. [ she shakes her head. ]

I will marry another King somewhere, and be his Queen. But I will not have much power, or much say.

Thus my surprise at your freedom, my lady. I did not know I wanted such before.

But it would be a wonder, to have such an ability. [ such liberty. ]

[woodlander]

Such can be the way of things, for those of Royal blood. Princes must marry Princesses. So would it be in my world as well –

But my status is not so high.

[ She hesitates, considering, and then offers Elizabeth the tiniest of smiles. ]

But my lady, if you will permit me to say so – here, there is no reason why status should prevent you from doing anything. If you wished to learn to fight, there is nothing to say you cannot.

[skjalf]

So it is the same in your land. Are these princes and princesses happy, do you think?

No? I have never heard of a woman being captain of a guard before.

I find that quite impressive, myself.

[ elizabeth returns the small smile with one of her own, and is silently thankful for being given an opening. ]

You are the first I have met to say so, my lady. I do not know how well I would handle a weapon.

But in the future, would you perhaps be willing to instruct me?

[woodlander]

I cannot say. Perhaps there are some who are very unhappy, and others who relish their role. I think that even princes and princesses must have thoughts that are their own, and will not always think the same.

[ Legolas is as much a guard as Tauriel, yet he's a prince. She thinks that he's happy, but she hasn't really asked him. She wonders about it, now.

But then she's distracted by the question, and she inclines her head. ]

I would be happy to give any aid that I could. If you wished to learn, I would by no means deny you.

I do not think you should be restricted, when it is your choice.

[skjalf]

As everyone's minds differ, I suppose. You are right. But it would be nice to think that perhaps in another place...

[ someone like her might be happy. she tilts her head, now a little curious. ]

What of you, my lady? If I may be so bold as to ask.

[ this is both the answer she was and wasn't expecting. she smiles at tauriel, easy and genuine. the light of it reaches her eyes. ]

The day may come where it may be necessary. I was not born to hold a sword, but perhaps I might learn. I would like to try.

You are very kind. I thank you a thousand times over!

[woodlander]

What of me? [ Tauriel looks up at her, curious. ] Am I happy? I am content.

[ Not happy, because she's trapped here, and cannot be happy with that. There were things sh was supposed to do, people she was supposed to help, and beyond that though she cares for those who are here, they do not truly know her. The Thranduil here is not truly her Thranduil. She cannot be happy, so far from her own world.

But she can be content with her lot, until it can be changed. That is what she tells herself. ]

And there is no need to thank me, my lady. I am happy to help. [ A little smile. ] I will enjoy it, I think. I like to train, and practice. It keeps my skills sharp.

[skjalf]

Yes. [ tauriel's reply makes her smile. ] As you should be. That is good.

[ they are trapped, yes. but their situations differ vastly. in comparison, elizabeth is content also to be here because it removes her from being a pawn in a game played by others. there is no richard or henry to fight over her like she is a scrap of meat.

or merely a stand which holds england's crown. she is content, and that might grow into happiness in time. and sadly as she herself does not know tauriel at all, she cannot read that there is more behind the elf's words than there appears.

she would attempt to give her comfort, otherwise. ]

You are doing me a great kindness. I think it right that I thank you.

[ she smiles, too. ] I will endeavour not to disappoint.