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

[blackmagus]

[It's a loaded question. Or it could be, if she lets it. Fortescue swallows down more of her drink, considering how to word things. Not really because she wants to keep it from Maria — at this point, she'd be more or less happy to come clean to a woman who has become a very dear friend to her. But she can't handle it right now. Not with what she was just handed.

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.]

[brainsqueeze]

I've heard of offers like that.

( 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 )

[blackmagus]

There's one end. A casket.

[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.

[brainsqueeze]

Is that why you didn't join a department?

( 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 )

[blackmagus]

Mm. [Fortescue nods.] I just... need to distance myself a little. From that.

[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.]

[brainsqueeze]

I wish I could.

( 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 )

[blackmagus]

I'm not entirely convinced that I can.

[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.]

[brainsqueeze]

If not there's always drinking.

( 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.

[blackmagus]

[Fortescue raises her glass dryly.]

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.