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ataraxionlogs2015-04-08 12:00 am
ataraxites) wrote in ataraxionlogs2015-04-08 12:00 am
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- bail organa,
- bethmora fortescue,
- booker dewitt,
- carl grimes,
- carlisle longinmouth,
- daryl dixon,
- elsa,
- evangeline de brassard,
- feuilly,
- firo prochainezo,
- hoban "wash" washburne,
- jemma simmons,
- john blake | au,
- kyle crane,
- leia organa,
- leo fitz,
- lúthien,
- muscovy,
- raven reyes,
- rebecca "newt" jorden,
- rick grimes,
- robin,
- sebastian vael,
- skye,
- the warden (mira tabris),
- valya,
- zoe washburne
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.
----------------
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
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.
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.
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.
no subject
Oh, you know. Jump things.
[ Waking up and finding people just gone. For once, she might actually want to say goodbye to a person. But you don't get that aboard this bloody ship, apparently. ]
All in one piece?
no subject
Yeah, I made it out.
( No new memories but nothing lost - especially her. She wasn't heading off anywhere this time )
You need a bar?
no subject
She nods. ]
Desperately. Care to join me?
[ It's something of a routine for them. But it's a good routine, in her mind. ]
no subject
( if anything for the moment it was more to make sure that Fortescue was okay than in needing a drink herself. She didn't have a doubt that something would happen that would change that )
It might be quieter now. There's no trouble yet.
no subject
[ Fortescue gives a dry smile to go along with her joke, but it's a bit forced. She doesn't feel like smiling. She feels like drowning herself in a bottle. ]
You make it out of all that? I mostly stayed in my room, to be honest.
no subject
( It's a statement that doesn't need much elaboration. They both know the job - or at least what the job was before getting here. Here, in a place where monsters existed - where things were twisted so? It wasn't the same, and you had to hold down your stomach sometimes to keep moving on. Maybe sometimes she'd like to ignore it, but she'd never been able to. She didn't want to think about what she'd be thinking about if she tried to. There were plenty of other capable people here but one more person always helped - and if something did happen and she hadn't tried to help that was something that Maria didn't like the thought of )
If it's over then I'll take that.
( Until the next time, anyway. One time she wouldn't make it out, but she'd keep fighting until that happened )
no subject
This ship is doing quite the number on all of us.
[ In more ways than one. ]