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ataraxionlogs2015-01-08 12:01 am
ataraxites) wrote in ataraxionlogs2015-01-08 12:01 am
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- bellamy blake,
- benny lafitte,
- bethmora fortescue,
- bucky barnes,
- captain hook (killian jones),
- caroline forbes,
- charles xavier,
- cole,
- commander shepard,
- cora hale,
- cullen rutherford,
- derek hale,
- dick "robin" grayson,
- ellen ripley,
- eponine thenardier,
- firo prochainezo,
- harry potter,
- heather mason,
- ivan,
- jackson "jax" teller,
- jennifer keller,
- johanna mason,
- john blake | au,
- john mitchell,
- kieren walker,
- l "ryuuzaki" lawliet,
- leo fitz,
- levi,
- liara t'soni,
- marian hawke,
- marty mikalski,
- minho,
- mordin solus,
- netherlands,
- octavia blake,
- padme amidala,
- raven reyes,
- richard rider,
- rick grimes,
- river tam | au,
- sally malik,
- sam alexander,
- simon tam,
- sirius black,
- takeshi,
- taylor "tyke" kee,
- thomas
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.
----------------
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
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.
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.
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.
no subject
[They might be on board a ship that has dubious plans for them, and they have to deal with blue goo and oxygen tubes, but at least they've both got a drinking buddy or two. And the ship does tend to build a sense of camaraderie among the people it kidnaps.]
No one's actively trying to kill me here. That's pretty nice, I have to say.
[Well, the ship might be, but not because of who or what she is, probably. And it's sad, but that's a step up from back home.]
no subject
( She's certainly no longer target number one on the world's biggest hit list, and whilst that one threat might have been stopped she's under no illusions that she's safe. Hydra might have scattered but they're still out there, and whilst she's protected against the government it wouldn't stop anyone taking her out. Here? The ship isn't at least that good - it can't really put a gun to her head )
Should I ask why people want to kill you?
( Kill such a lovely woman? With obvious secrets underneath. They've skirted around the topic before, and whilst there might have been small fragments told it isn't enough to put together a clear picture. Fortescue has to be a threat to someone, or just in one of 'those' situations. There are a few job reasons, unless it's personal )
no subject
I quit a very stressful job full of secrets, and everyone wants their hands on them.
[Even people who hadn't even known what she was. The thugs who had nearly killed her for information had thought she was just some sort of secretary. She hadn't given a drop of information up. Mostly out of spite, but the more she thinks about it, the more she's convinced it was the right decision. Honor, and all that.]
I'm not giving any of it up, ever, but the Empire is nervous and paranoid. I should know.
no subject
( From someone that is in the same boat as her? Minus being on the top of Hydra's list she's waiting for the attempted killings. Especially with Fury dead. It's no longer just Hydra but every government - if they weren't trying to throw her in a dark hole it would be to kill her. Some want her secrets others wouldn't mind if they died )
I have a couple of safeguards against governments but it wouldn't do much to a bullet.
( Sharing is caring, right? )
no subject
[But Fortescue knows, because she's the one they send to do those particularly unsavory deeds. ...or she was. She'd been Imperium's agent for so long, she has to remind herself that she's out now. For better or for worse, she's never going to spill any more blood in the name of King and Country.]
Imperium might not kill me, but they'll certainly drag me back and try to make me work for them again. And if I won't...
[She shrugs. At best, she'll live in a cell for the rest of her life.]
no subject
Then I'll drink to not dying.
( And perhaps to no secrets. At least no knew ones. The only thing that made it semi-acceptable about being here was the fact that time was paused. That she wasn't missing anything, or missing being able to help in anything. Although she would hope that with things just going to hell that there might be a small breather. They all needed one, anyway )
no subject
[Briefly, she raises her glass, giving a tired-looking smile.]
Any luck and I'll just stay on this bloody ship.
[Unlike some people, who want to go home and have things waiting for them. Which she only feels bitter about after... say, two more drinks.]
At least the things here want to kill everyone, and not just me.
no subject
( They didn't need any personal things out to kill them. No one did, and it wasn't something worth thinking about. Not when they all had demons or things they'd rather not see. She was glad she had a drink to go along with this thinking )
How did you get started? With secrets.
( Just curiosity. There were so many ways people got pulled into SHIELD - Maria hadn't started off as a spy. Was it the same across worlds, or only one path? )
no subject
Which is essentially a nice up yours, in regards to how her career had gone.]
My magic is prized in certain... shadowy parts of the Empire, for subterfuge. They made me an offer that I... had to take.
[She wrinkles her nose. Too right, how they'd expressly manipulated a protective sixteen-year-old to sign her life away. Anything to save her little sister. Anything.]
no subject
( They were usually offers from the other side - Hydra, other governments. SHIELD may have had one or two slight similarities but nothing quite as manipulative. Or at least they liked to pretend they were a step above it all )
There's never an end to them either.
( Although when you end up with that many secrets it's hard to get out even if you could )
no subject
[Idly, she swirls her drink in her glass.]
I ran, but we'll see how long that lasts.
[Maybe she shouldn't say that, but she's too far into the conversation to back out now. She's trying to get out. Running and hiding is the only option.]
What I did, you don't get to leave. That's not part of the contract.
no subject
( There's a lack of judgement, and Maria can understand why she wouldn't. Her life hadn't been her choice, and if you could you'd want to get away from it all. Even if you ended up being good at it )
no subject
[The alternative is bringing up so many bad memories that it — well, it does to her what Maria had discovered, earlier. It shuts her down. One person can only handle so much at a time.]
no subject
( Or maybe she's distant enough already.she might not be able to take herself away from familiar work - it wouldn't feel right, and she's never been good at sitting on her hands, but she lacks the personal connections that have rattled Fortescue. Few friends and no family... lonely life, but it keeps her focused )
One day I might ask you to show me what it's like.
( Probably not, but she'll keep drinking all the same )
no subject
[She offers a sad smile.]
But I'm going to try. I've been trying for months. It hasn't stuck, just yet, but practice makes perfect, right?
[Please let practice make perfect, because Fortescue can't handle any of that stuff again.]
no subject
( Which has apparently become a regular habit. What has this ship done to her?? Forced time off and actually making friends? How dastardly )
You'll figure something out. We've got enough time to if the ship doesn't kill us first.
no subject
I'll toast to that. [Thank the Gate for booze! And the ship. Whatever.] Time is nice, even if there's... a great deal of it.