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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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.

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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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Comments

[oversight]

[ John tries not to think of life as a gamble, does what he can to avoid citing the odds, but he's not so naive as to think that River's cursory calculations are anything but accurate, and if he had to place any kind of bets it would be on the three of them. Granted, five-hundred-thousand-to-one really does sound like a longshot, but never has he met more viciously loyal people willing to do whatever it takes.

There are others, of course — the people that belong to his people — but for John this is his family and its been returned to him and he's never had the opportunity to experience this before, not quite on this level, at least.

He laughs — it's a bit choked — and before he can get too sentimental, he presses a kiss to the crown of River's head, ruffles her hair and then turns to pull Dean into a goddamn hug. On the outside of this? Like hell he is. ]

—we're too stubborn for goodbyes.

[ And thank god for that because he'd much rather take on space with the both of them than just about anyone else.

When he pulls away a moment later, Blake looks between the two of them and counts himself damn lucky, even considers that he might have already put his money on the table some time ago. I mean, this certainly feels like a payout, doesn't it? Maybe even one appropriate to the odds, he thinks, if he's allowed to be that sentimental. ]

i am the weak link

[perceptum]

[ Really Dean, you should have seen that one coming.

It's easy to forget for a moment that this probably isn't anything good. Being dragged to Wonderland was a situation in and of itself, but it happening again? River wasn't kidding when she said it was 'unlikely' - hell, the chances of winning the lottery had to be higher than the likelihood of strange unseen forces pulling all three of them back together again - but it's hard to feel anything other than incredibly lucky with the two of them there.

Being back in this kind of situation would be hard on anyone, harder on River than your average person most likely, and it's a lot easier to stave off any kind of real panic with familiar faces around. She has Simon, she has far more of her old crew here than she ever could have hoped for, and she has her chosen family too. She isn't about to start questioning that kind of luck. ]

Now.

[ She stands up a little straighter once the hug releases, tries to look a little more serious (though the smile she can't quite get rid of ruins the effect a little). ] She needs to know the details. I have questions, where can I find the answers?

I am the weaker link

[righteously]

[The hug catches him by surprise, but there's no denying the family-fuzzy sentiment. After a huff, he thumps Blake on the back for a second or two before extricating himself.]

Alright, alright, jesus. It's like a Hallmark commercial, you two're giving me space diabetes.

[Too many feelings, too much family, it's gross.

And awesome.

But, you know. He doesn't handle this stuff well, and he's not about to tear up in public, so. Moving right along. He crosses his arms over his chest, shakes his head something equal parts exasperated, fond, and amused. You two're gonna be the death of him, you know.]

There's a pretty comprehensive guide you can snag on your phone. Think it would've gone over better as a pamphlet, but you know, whatever. You can read through all the juicy deets there, but you know, anything... big and personal, we're all ears.