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

[troops]

Lady Galadriel.

[He tips his head forward respectfully, well aware by her demeanor- if not her name- that she's most likely someone of a high position.]

Well met. My name is Cullen. [There's a casual little smile and he tilts his head, curious.] I don't recognize the location, I'm afraid.

[inafadingcrown]

A pleasure, Cullen. I would not expect you to know my realm, unless you hail from Arda as well; I introduce myself by title more out of habit than aught else, in all honesty.

[troops]

I... I don't think I've ever heard of it.

[Which is strange enough, especially since she seems like the most familiar thing he's seen since he woke up.]

I'm from Ferelden, if that helps at all.

[inafadingcrown]

[She shakes her head] I am afraid that your home is as strange to me as mine is to you. You have been informed, I trust, of the many different worlds from which the Tranquility may draw its passengers?

[And trust her, she's very aware of how crazy that sounds.]

[troops]

Ah.

[There's been a lot of information happening in the last few hours. He might have heard that at one point or another, but...]

I just assumed- you look like you could have come from my, uh. World.

[inafadingcrown]

Would I know of your Ferelden if I were? [Is it a large player in the politics of the world, in other words?] I do follow the realms and politics of Men, to a degree, but not so deeply as some. I will admit to the possibility that I have overlooked something, though I do not think it entirely likely.

[troops]

...no, probably not.

[She doesn't seem like any elf he knows. She's too tall, for one, even though she shares their ethereal nature. If anything, she looks more like the statues the elves worship than one of them.]

It was my mistake, I apologize.