thirty-ninth 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: 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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ＹＯＵ͘ ̨ＷＡＫＥ̢ ̧ＵＰ ́ＩＮ ＤＡ̛ＲＫＮ̢Ｅ̕ＳＳ̶

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 ̧Ａ̨ＲＥ ＮＯＴ҉ ̷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.

ＴＨ̀ＩＳ͜ ̶Ｉ͠Ｓ͡ ͘Ｙ̵Ｏ͝ＵＲ ̕Ｗ͝Ｅ̛Ｌ̨Ｃ͡Ｏ͝Ｍ͏Ｅ Ｐ̛ＡＲ̴ＴＹ͜

Comments

[sparkler]

[It is clear that Cullen is a commander, instantly jumping to strategic thinking, plans and practicalities. Dorian values that sort of thing, certainly, and he sees the need for it - but he also feels a burning curiosity, a need to know more and learn all that he can of this strange place.

Well, that is why he's a mage and not a leader of men, he supposes.]

I see no reason to trust it, but we can investigate it without trust. I have my magic, and you have your sword, yes? We're not defenseless, and we don't have any other leads.

[Sometimes you have to play into your enemy's hands in order to get them to reveal everything. Dorian is certainly getting the impression that this is going to be one of those times. After all, they can't very well just stay here.]

We can speak to whoever we find here, collect some information, and then take the 'lift'. Whatever that is.

[troops]

[Cullen nods, agreeing with the sentiment. Even if they can't trust anything around them, they can at least have faith in their own abilities. He knows that Dorian is a capable mage- strong, with magic from his homeland- and he himself... well. He has no shield, and the lack of lyrium in his system rather strongly limits what he can do, but he's not exactly about to admit it to the other man. He's got a blade, and it will have to be enough.]

Alright. I haven't seen many others with weapons here. We should be safe if we split up for a moment. [If nothing else, then to make information gathering faster.] As long as we meet up again before going to- uh, the lifter. [A pause.] Lift.

[That sounds agreeable enough to him.]

[sparkler]

Excellent. Let's meet back here, then - with luck, we'll both have something interesting to talk about.

[If nothing else, Dorian needs to fetch some of the other things that he found in his locker. Robes and his staff are all well and good, and he has nowhere else to put the books, but the lyrium might be useful if things go south. It is always good to have a backup plan.]

Let's go talk to a few strangers, shall we?