ataraxionlogs | thirty-ninth jump;

Entry tags:

thirty-ninth 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: A feeling of deep dread greets you as you stumble out of the gravcouch, strong enough to hold you still for a long moment, searching your surroundings for the source of your wariness. Nothing becomes apparent, only your fellow passengers waking up. Eventually you gather the resolve to pick yourself up and start moving, the feeling fading slowly as you progress through routine.

New arrivals will find messages spraypainted across their lockers telling them not to follow their tattoo numbers, and instead to find a room on Floors 001-010.

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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.

ＹＯ́Ｕ̴ ̧Ａ̨ＲＥＮＯＴ҉ ̷ＡＬＯ̨ＮＥ҉

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.

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Zoë was scary. In a good sorta way that Kaylee knew she could trust her. Something like a mother figure, but an older sister at the same time. She got it, and it was nice to have another lady on the ship when Inara wasn't around. So seeing Zoë around did a whole lot to brighten her never-dampening spirits.

"Like what sorts a' things?" She asks, opening the locker and looking at her own clothing inside. Perfect. "An' how in the 'verse did we get here? This sure ain't Serenity."

So she didn't know, Simon thought with a twist of his stomach. None of them knew... which meant Kaylee also didn't remember that they were together. Of course, because his life could never be simple.

Then again, he knew how to play his cards right this time, he reasoned with himself. But that wasn't important right now.

"None of them have shown up here, I'm afraid," he said sadly. "Not even River- it is just me, Wash and Zoe... and you now. The rest of them may show up in time, but for now it is just us. As I said, we're on a ship called the Tranqulity- it is bigger than any ship you have ever seen. Probably bigger than any Alliance cruiser."

[He falters at that, unsettled by Cole- reading his thoughts as if they were on paper. A sharp spike of fear is forced down, Maker, why would they be trapped here with a demon?- but he has to adapt, has to take this and work with what he has. What he has are nullification abilities that couldn't stop a wisp- let alone a fully formed demon- a sword, no shield, and no idea where he is.

Dorian could help, maybe, and Cullen doesn't want to believe Cole when he says he doesn't know, but what other choice can he have? It's not like he can interrogate him, not in the state he's in, and- and-

-and Cole is stuck in his tunic.

Cullen just stares at him for a moment, incredulous and still wary, as if it's some kind of ruse to get a knife in his gut, but- can a demon be so clueless? He isn't sure how to deal with this, but Cole is definitely having problems with the tunic, and Cullen glances around a moment, as if to see if anyone is watching, before he steps forward.

He keeps one hand on the pommel of his sword, still not quite able to believe that this situation can be real, and reaches out with his other, grasping at the bunched up fabric and giving it a sharp tug so that Cole's head pops through the neck hole. Another few pulls then, and he manages to help the spirit with getting his arms in the sleeves, and Andraste help him, the ridiculousness of this situation is almost too much to bear.]

...there. You- uh. [He's actually rendered pretty speechless from the display though, and shifts his weight slightly, entirely unsure of how to react.] Hm.

"We're- Go shi! Bigger 'n a cruiser?" You're talking machines, and Kaylee is all sorts of perky. "D'we know what kinda' ship she is? Kinda funny we was on Serenity, now we're on a Tranquility. Ironical." She assumed that was the correct form of irony. It wasn't.

"So it's just the four'a us..." Which wasn't bad so to say. But it wasn't optimal. "Y'mean t'say that you've been here before?"

[At this point, Zoë's just both really happy to see someone else from Serenity and sad that it's River. Simon'll be happy, sure, but that doesn't mean it's in the girl's best interest to actually be here on this stupid ship.

And, the happy smile definitely makes it easier for Zoë to relax from her defensive stance for the most part. But that doesn't mean she's going to just let up either. River wasn't exactly the most stable of people on a good day.]

Well, you're a sight for sore eyes. I suppose you haven't seen your brother yet, right?

[Since he had to wash himself and thus his hair when he got the blue gunk off, it's actually pretty fluffy when not stuck to his skull with probably way more grease than is even thematically appropriate for the high fantasy era setting. Which is to say after the tunic gets properly pulled down it's sticking out absolutely everywhere and looking similar to dandelion fluff. He smiles brightly at Cullen, now the proud wearer of a tunic ... that could honestly probably use a good wash too but let's not pray for more than one miracle in a single day here.]

Thank you!

[The pants at least he can manage on his own, because he can watch what he's doing. There's also only so many ways the boots go on, though anything that can be laced is left unlaced since he also doesn't know how to tie them.]

She reaches and takes his hand, and squeezes tight. This is like Tim all over again, or it will be, if she ever has to give it back (ha ha). She smiles at him, then, pleased with herself, and starts heading towards the elevator.

Need someone to watch your back? Scare some locals on a backwater planet? Zoë is your woman in that regard. Need someone to hold your hand and brush your hair while telling you things will be okay? Best going to talk to Inara there. But that doesn't stop the former Corporal from loving the rest of the ragtag crew that Mal managed to cobble together during their time together on the Serenity.

"Wash's gotten shirts, pictures, things like that." The pictures are both good and bad, considering the information that Simon shared recently. "Can't say that I've had the benefit of gifts like that, but it's not always bad and it's not always good.

"As for how we got here, that's a jingcai question that no one can answer."

[Cullen lets out a longsuffering sigh at that, instinctively turning away when Cole pulls his pants on and sending out a short prayer of thanks that at least he doesn't need help with that. He leans against a nearby locker while the demon gets the rest of his clothing on, arms folded in front of him in an expression that could be called sulking if anyone dared.

He's leaving his boots untied. He's going to trip over them, and Cullen isn't going to help him because of course a demon wouldn't be bothered to tie his shoes for some reason or another, and- and it's not bothering him at all.]

...you're going to fall on your laces, you know.

[Cullen tries his best to sound gruff, critical. To convey that he's not letting his guard down, no matter how meek Cole presents himself.]

Probably.

[Cole says this with a solemn agreement, looking down at his laces with a sort of sad resignation before turning his attention back to the locker. He proceeds to fetch his assortment of random crap that had previously been in his pockets and, well, puts it back in said pockets.]

I don't know how to tie them though. Varric said he'd teach me but he's not here.

You can't tie your laces.

[Maker help him. It's a demon, he's dangerous and probably has something to do with why the three of them are there. Cullen needs to consult Dorian about this, see if it'd be possible to magically contain him or something because Cole walking around like this is dangerous enough as it is. He helped them escape, yes, but- but that doesn't make him trustworthy. Demons often make promises to help before they can hurt and for all Cullen knows, Cole could have had his own reasons for not wanting them to fall into Corypheus' hands.

He locks his jaw. He's not going to help him.]

You said you don't know why you're here. [Cullen watches him to make sure he doesn't walk off or disappear, still on edge, but- well, if Cole started running, he probably wouldn't get very far with the state his boots are in.

A demon that doesn't know how to tie his own bloody shoes. Fantastic.]

What do you know?

I know the mockingbird song. I know that elfroot is part of healing potions but I don't know how they make it go from the plant to the potion. I know that the third step up to the loft of the stables is very creaky but solid so no one thinks its worth fixing considering the state of the rest of Skyhold. I know there's going to be an archery contest there too but Varric and Bianca are not allowed to enter. I do know a lot of things.

[Just, you know, not laces.]

... But I don't know anything about why we're here. The music is all jumbled up inside. The ship's name isn't right. I can hear you and Dorian because I've heard you before but everything else sounds strange. Like listening to someone when you're underwater and they aren't. Warped whispers that want more than they can give.

[He pulls back his sleeve to look at the ID number on his arm.]

Do you think these numbers mean anything or is it just so we don't forget which wall box is ours?

[Day-drinking. Yeah, that's always a crappy sign. Nick arches a brow at her, but he knows enough to know that she'll tell him in her own time, if she wants to tell him at all. The main thing is to be a good friend - it's sort of a new trick that he's learned. So he nods after a moment.]

Yeah, sounds like a plan. And hey, if you need someone to scrub your back-

[It's not a serious come-on, but he's hoping that it might make her smile.]

[ Shepard hadn't thought much of the gesture, herself; she'd hugged Garrus when they'd first met up again and both he and Liara knew her better than most anyone. She's more focused on the moment, on discovering where they'd left things... on what had happened to their world. ]

Then I guess we've had a lot of mysteries over the years; what's one more?

[ At the answer, though... her chest tightens as she imagines them all on the ship, Joker trying with everything he had to get them out of the fray and up amongst the fleet. Had she been there to see the Crucible activate, or had it been even before that? ]

You were able to leave safely? [ She asks with urgency, brows knit in the seriousness of it all, with her need to know that her friends, at least, could live in the new universe when she and Anderson couldn't. ] Joker got you out of there?

[He wants to accuse Cole of avoiding the question, but is Cole really even capable of avoiding questions? He's been upfront so far- if a little scattered- and answered the questions presented to him, even if his answers weren't entirely logical. He's not logical though, he's something else entirely, and a small part of the commander wonders if he's being too harsh with him, but he crushes that sentiment quickly. Doubt is what gets people possessed, doubt is what demons use to hurt you, kill you. He can't afford to doubt.

(Dimly, he realizes that he sounds like Meredith, and the thought makes his chest tighten. But it's different- this isn't a mage in the wrong place at the wrong time, it's a demon. It's different.)

Cullen glances down to his own wrist when Cole speaks, and he's wearing his gloves now, but he remembers the numbers on his skin, clear as day. They didn't have any special significance to him, but could they serve another purpose, or is it just some form of branding? Ironic, to be abducted aboard The Tranquility and then branded like one, but that's neither here nor there.]

I don't know what to think.

[It's a little more than he wants to admit, but there it is. Cullen watches Cole for another few moments, before letting out a sigh.]

...you really don't know, do you? You had no part in this?

[ Whatever urge he has to move forward after her, keep her close, it's cut off by that defensive raise of her hand. The gesture earns a wounded look before his eyes raise back to hers, and he should take his time, try to explain it evenly — instead the words come out heavy, desperate. ]

Since that night at the mansion. When he tried to... he was trying to take your power, Emma.

[ And that's where his restraint ends. Killian steps forward, just enough to try to place his hand on her cheek, give some sort of physical tether to keep her from withdrawing. ]

But he doesn't have it now. Not here. [ It isn't much of a victory. There's still a finality to it, and he tries to ignore the fact that it's a temporary reassurance. ] He's gone home.

[Cole shakes his head slowly, now that he's got his things back in his pockets. He takes his hat, holding it in his hands and turning it over for a few moments there.]

I'm sorry. If I did I could tell you something, but I don't know.

You think I'm going to hurt you, like you were hurt before, but I'm not.

[He knows a lot of things.

He knows what happened in the tower. Especially since Cullen wears that pain like a badge of honor right now. Cole puts his hat on after speaking.]

Perhaps in spite of herself, Claire smiles, just a little, at the corner of her mouth. She's not sure about the level of Diablo's class against the backdrop of a caste system, but that resonates with her in some sort of private joke kind of way, and she's able to appreciate it and respond like a normal human. Meanwhile, with the question of how many brain cells he's retained out of the way, she can more comfortably broach the topic at hand.

"It's cool that you remember being here, at least," she says, switching the leashes from one hand to the other so that she can better accommodate the curiosity of the dogs. "That might make readjusting a little easier. Everything's as terrible and insane and murder-shippy as it's always been, probably." Almost like an afterthought, she sticks her hand out. "Claire Bennet."

[He goes still at that, the slight amounts of leniency he had been offering Cole gone now. Is he so easy to read? How does it know? Cullen's expression hardens and he pulls away from the locker, half-tempted to grab Cole by the collar and- and do what? He has nothing to go on here, no leads, and certainly nothing to accuse him of that he hasn't already.

He doesn't think about it, what Cole is implying. He hasn't thought about the specifics, doesn't let himself remember anything except for the warning and the knowledge of what even the most unassuming mages are capable of. Time and contemplation had tempered the anger and distrust, but it's important not to forget the result. It's important to know how heavy the weight is when you're putting it on the scale, even if you make it a point not to judge every weight by the heaviest.

Still. He doesn't think about it.]

You should... follow the messages on the wall. I need to talk to the others.

[A pause, and then-] ...we'll speak again.

[It's a warning as much as it is anything else, and Cullen backs off. He doesn't want to continue this conversation, not from where Cole had taken it, and he doesn't think he can get anything more out of him. Cole has gathered his things by now, and with any luck, he'll be off on his way- Cullen need not join him. Being near him is uncomfortable, having him read every action, every thought, it's- invasive.

So, he takes the opportunity to excuse himself, offering one last glance at Cole's shoddy, untied laces, before shaking his head and getting out of there. What more can he do? Cole could be a danger to others, but with no ability to remove the threat, he simply has to retreat, maybe find Dorian and come up with a plan of action.]

I wouldn't say everyone thinks that. I bet just about as many think we're here for some terrible and probably evil secret reason.

["Accident" is just the closest thing they were given as the official story.]

You got the rest of it down, though.

[He smiles.]

I'd hate to see what kinda stuff you go through back home, then.

Before he answers any questions, Wash is going for a hug. Just a towel be damned. After over a year of jumps, some boundaries just started to not matter as much. Everyone had seen everyone else naked at this point.

"That's a bit of a long story. She's not like any ship I've ever seen before, and there's something about her drives that ends with people on board from different places. Straight out of science fiction."

[ He'd definitely be rolling his eyes if the circumstances weren't still a shade too tense. As is, he gets a slightly unimpressed look on his face, but he doesn't even divert his gaze from Rick again, much as he'd like to shoot Simon a look.

The words are familiar. Not because they're true, of course; it's the kind of nonsense he'd heard from Dean. From Lisa's parents, too, the talk of turning, as if it was some kind of gift. There's a pang of guilt at the connection, and it's made no better by the description — no talking, no thinking. He's been trapped in that before, been rabid.

He wants to launch into an explanation of how they're different, exactly, explain the medication and the rest of it. Instead he offers a smile, and then there's a genuinely amused, but admittedly nervous: ]

Walkers. Really.

[ Because tensions aside, that's funny, thanks. ] That's my name. Well, not Walkers, but— I'm Kieren. Kieren Walker.

[ she doesn't smile, no more than she already was at least (and that's hardly a real smile, more a product of tension than anything), but she does tilt her head a little as she drifts a step or two backward toward the showers, eyeing him. it's almost appraisal, or maybe a subtle sort of indecision.

then: ] What if I do?

Got a lotta tech here.

[Which she's not about to admit she doesn't really understand. But delegation? That's a perfectly legitimate thing to do.]

Simon or Jennifer'll talk to ye 'bout the details.

[That's right, will.]

Simon or Jennifer. Right.

[ If he notices the deflection, there's no sign of it — instead he seems eager for a lead or an out, or both. He starts towards the door, but he's hesitant to just slide past her without further comment, pausing for a passably polite: ]

Thanks.

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Page 28 of 65

thirty-ninth jump;

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Oh, good, I will remember coffee.

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[pods]

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