ataraxionlogs | forty-second jump;

Entry tags:

forty-second 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: There's a strange sense of contentment that greets you as you wake from the jump. Deep and certain, it doesn't warm you or cloak the unpleasantness of the stasis fluid on your skin and the disorientation spinning in your head. It feels disconcertingly distant, instead, a sense as though an answer has been decided on - and that you won't much like to experience it coming to fruition...

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.

ＹＯ́Ｕ̴ ̧Ａ̨ＲＥＮＯＴ҉ ̷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.

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[ Sadly, Booker - as ever - isn't in the mood for jokes. He just grimaces, nodding. The sticky substance from the grav couches isn't the worst thing he's had to deal with, but it's still unpleasant.

He's not here to talk about goo, though. He glances down at the bottle and the still-empty glass next to it, gaze lingering for a moment, before he forces his attention away and back to her. This isn't his strong suit, but it needs to be done. ]

You helped me once before.

I wonder if you might see fit to do so again.

[ Luckily for him, then, that Fortescue isn't really in the mood for them, either. Normally she thrives on whatever might lighten the mood, jokes or teasing, but at the moment that half-hearted attempt at a joke is the closest thing she can manage. She has a small sip of her drink before she cants her head slightly to the side, thoughtful. ]

Well... no promises.

[ She can't even help herself, at the moment. But she does inch the empty glass toward Booker, an invitation to help himself if he's in the mood. ]

What's eating you?

[ He's always in the mood, but especially now. He reaches for the glass and the bottle immediately, with a grateful nod for Fortescue as he pours. ]

Elizabeth.

[ It's not much of an answer, but...how does he even begin to explain? Booker takes a drink, staring down at his glass for a moment before meeting her eyes. ]

Have you spoken to her lately?

[ Funny how focused this bloke is on Elizabeth. She really needs to ask about that. For now, though, she'll simply take in whatever his request is, running a finger around the lip of her glass. ]

Not as of late. [ She grimaces, a bit. ] It's been rather chaotic.

[ To put it lightly. But Fortescue knows Elizabeth can take care of herself. And that, more importantly, she has a bunch of people like herself who are surreptitiously looking after her. Hopefully they've been doing a better job; she, herself, has been slacking in all of her friendships, lately. ]

Why?

[ It doesn't even occur to him to explain his interest in Elizabeth's well-being. He'd never had to before. She'd never had friends to explain anything to before. ]

She's acting - not herself. She won't admit it, but...

[ He shakes his head gravely. ]

I think something's wrong with her.

[ She'll probably ask him, soon. For now, she'll stick with this... somewhat alarming news, if it's true. Lamentably, Fortescue realizes she failed to track down Liz after the Jump, as she usually does. She'd been distracted. And now she's here and well on her way to tipsy.

Later. Tomorrow, maybe. ]

Wrong with her in what way?

She was attacked, when those monsters were here. Hurt.

[ He pauses, allowing the guilt to eat away at him for a moment. He should've stopped them. Should have saved her. ]

We got her to the medbay, got her patched up, but she woke up - different.

[ It's no description at all, he realizes, and he shakes his head helplessly again, taking a drink. ]

I ain't sure how to explain it. But those people - she was desperate to help them. Would've gone after 'em alone, if I hadn't agreed to come along. When she woke up, it was like she didn't care about them at all. Didn't care about anyone but herself. And that ain't all. There's other things, too...

[ He trails off, not sure how to continue. Not sure if she even believes him at all. ]

[ There's a two-score attack of guilt, then, because Fortescue wrinkles her nose and looks less than pleased, though she tries to keep her face otherwise blank in that regard. She's feeling like she needs to stay guarded, for the moment.

However, if he's telling the truth... Elizabeth, only caring about herself? That's not right at all. The way she'd been tormented by those creatures, before, the ones that preyed on fear... ]

Did Elizabeth notice something was off? Did she recognize you? [ A pause. ] Has anyone else experienced this, when they were attacked by the monsters?

[ She doesn't approve. Well, he can't blame her. Booker just shakes his head, unable to answer most of her questions. ]

If she knows something's wrong, she ain't saying. Dunno if anyone else...if this has happened to anyone else.

[ Then again, he hasn't really asked around, either. Booker's social circle aboard the ship is still pretty small. Mostly, it's just Elizabeth. ]

She knows me, but...it's like she knows who I am, but not...

[ He runs a hand through his hair. It's so hard to explain. ]

Like she knows my name, remembers what I've said, things we've done, but none of it means anything to her.

[ Fortescue nods. It's worth asking about, once she feels like being social again. Which won't be for a day or two, probably, but she knows a fair few people. She's something of a social butterfly, when she's not completely miserable. Though with her present track record, she's starting to feel like maybe she shouldn't be a social butterfly.

Or she'll just have to keep people distant from her again. Like back home, except for different reasons. ]

That's very odd. [ Elizabeth should feel something. ] Not like her at all. [ Thoughtfully, she taps her fingertips against her glass. ] Perhaps I should send her a message and see if I get the same treatment.

[ Booker nods soberly, still worried. ]

Obliged if you could.

[ He pauses. She seems a bit quiet and withdrawn herself, tired, perhaps, and it looks like she's been working on the bottle for a while, despite how early it still is. But he doesn't know her well enough to say for sure that something's wrong - he's never even seen her in person before. ]

...You didn't have any run-ins with those things, did you?

[ Those things being any of the various creatures that had been infesting the hallways when Elizabeth was attacked. ]

[ It's going to weigh on her mind, now, until she checks with Elizabeth. As to the question, she shakes her head. ]

No, I usually keep well enough away when things invade our space here. Or turns our minds against each other. Or... anything else the ship cares to come up with. It rarely works out well.

[ Back home, she'd be charging out there. But here? Fortescue mostly just keeps her head down. She still isn't sure what to do with her life, now that she technically has one. Until she figures out, she'll tend a bar or two. ]

[ Elizabeth had admitted that the ship was bad news sometimes, but she'd never mentioned all of that. He narrows his eyes, frowning. ]

How often do things like this happen?

Often enough.

[ She doesn't really want to think about it, but she takes a large sip from her glass and then considers all she's experienced so far. ]

Not every Jump. But nearly. If it's not something from the ship, it's something outside of it.

[ Fortescue idly taps her glass, canting her head slightly to the side as she looks at Booker. ]

Do you mind if I ask how it is you know Elizabeth? [ And then she recalls there was a missing element from the start of this. When she was distracted. ] ...Name's Fortescue, by the way. Forgot about that bit, sorry.

[ Well, she's still mentally distracted. Just less so. ]

Miss Fortescue.

[ He looks surprised at the question, and then abashed, as if he should have expected it. And he should have, perhaps, only no one had ever asked him that before. ]

She -

[ Well. It's harder to explain than he'd thought. At least not without either making himself sound terrible, or painting himself as more of a hero than he deserves. Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt.

He hadn't brought her to anyone, in the end. But he hadn't been able to rescue her, either. ]

We...were partners, of a sort, back in Columbia. Where she came from.

Partners.

[ There's no doubt as she repeats the word. It's as if she's chewing on it thoughtfully. ]

How long?

[ The longer he's known Elizabeth, the more she'll give his words credence. But nothing changes the fact that she's going to send Liz a message. See how she's doing. Especially now that she's caught up as to what happened before the Jump. ]

Long enough.

[ Two, maybe three days?

But there's no hesitation or evasion in his tone, all the same. Booker may not have known Elizabeth long, but he knows her, all the same. He knows that the way she's acting now isn't right.

He can't blame Fortescue for giving him a bit of the third degree, though. He'd do the same, in her position. ]

I ain't...any kind of a danger to her, if that's what you're thinking.

[ Honestly, he's not sure that that is what she's thinking - she's not looking at him with any particular suspicion (which is a refreshing change). But he knows he didn't make a very good showing of himself when he'd first arrived, and allowing Elizabeth to be hurt in the corridors doesn't help. ]

[ She chuckles. She's not going to take his word alone, but he seems all right now that he isn't so, well, drunk. Elizabeth tends to be so idealistic that it could be very possible for her to not see the worst in someone. ]

No offense meant, love. She's just dear to me, that's all. And to a lot of people here.

[ And Fortescue looks out for her friends. Especially since she doesn't have many of them. Even if the pool is shrinking further...

And on that mental note, she takes another hefty sip. ]

[ Booker raises an eyebrow at the endearment. He doesn't get that sort of thing often.

But he's glad - if not surprised - to hear that Elizabeth has people here who care about her. The thought of her arriving here alone, having to live among strangers for five months before he joined her, had eaten at him. ]

Then you'll understand why I'm concerned for her.

[ He cares about Elizabeth too, after all. Even if it's not as easy for him to come out and say so. ]

Mm. [ She nods an affirmative, as she lowers her glass back to the table. ] Elizabeth and I arrived in the same Jump. So we had that bit of camaraderie going for us.

[ The ship is easier with other people to lean on. But that also backfires when those people leave, and is the reason Fortescue is here in the bar to begin with. ]

I've been trying to keep an eye on her the... best that I can.

[ Fortescue still isn't sure she's the best person for that kind of job, for anyone. Her skills are of a completely different set altogether. But Elizabeth is dear to her, like a younger sister, and she's been trying. ]

She don't make it easy, does she?

[ He slouches back in his seat, taking a long swallow of the drink he'd poured. Honestly, he doesn't have the first idea where Elizabeth might even be right now. She must have been at the Jump, but he'd never caught sight of her there. ]

No, she certainly doesn't.

[ Fortescue all too clearly remembers the incident with the creatures — Dementors? — where Elizabeth had heard voices in trouble. And nothing would dissuade her from them. Or at least nothing that Fortescue had been able to do. Once Elizabeth wants to do something, it seems impossible to steer her off course. ]

She can be a bit stubborn. [ She makes a sound that might be the cousin of a chuckle. It's about the most she can summon, at the moment. ] In the best way, for the most part.

[ Booker allows himself a wry smile, shaking his head. ]

Sounds like she hasn't changed that much.

[ Except she has, of course; she's changed far too much of late, and the smile disappears as he finishes his drink and sets down the glass. ]

I'll let you be now.

Appreciate the drink, and...your assistance.

[ She nods slightly. ]

Not a problem. I'm usually found where drinks are involved. We'll talk again, then.

[ They can compare notes, if Elizabeth is still acting strangely. ]

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