ataraxites: (Default)
axmods. ([personal profile] ataraxites) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2015-01-08 12:01 am

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
hairlocked: (This is not all that we are)

[personal profile] hairlocked 2015-01-14 04:09 pm (UTC)(link)
No, the third; but sufficiently early as to make very little difference. She's still gone, and I'm still lost without her.

[ The human touch. She's lost people too, and connections are easy once you know how. Leoben learned faster than the others. Psychologically, people are easy to predict and read--to manipulate if need be. But his manipulation is subtle here. Surprise is disarming. Time to make an emotional connection.

First, a soft little something of a smile.
]

Do you know many people here? Someone from home?
diplomaticsolutions: (Default)

[personal profile] diplomaticsolutions 2015-01-16 02:07 am (UTC)(link)
[It was, especially when compared with the number that she herself bears. To be here that long... Although she knows that others have something to go back to. Perhaps a particular person or a reason to keep on fighting. Then again, there may well be others in a situation like herself, where there is nothing.]

I do. I suppose you could call it a blessing and a curse, as I doubt anyone would desire to have their friends brought here.
hairlocked: (A part of me swims in the stream)

[personal profile] hairlocked 2015-01-19 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
It may be selfish to wish it on other people, but the alternative would be unbearable. To be alone against these trials isn't worth thinking about. No one to hold you when you've faced the peril of standing between Cerberus' jaws. My sister is here--I'm not sure where I would be without her.

[ He's fortunate. He has a future to go back to, a future he knows because it's his calling to know it. That gives him the confidence of knowing that he will go back, because that future simply can't happen without him.

But he would be so fascinated to know what it was like to have nothing to go back to. How vital would it make living aboard this ship? What options would it form for her? It would be an interesting observation on human nature if nothing else.
]