forty-third 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: As you emerge from the grav couches following the jump, the chill of the medical bay pales in comparison to the hollow feeling that settles deep within your chest. Grim and foreboding, the grip of isolation spreads through you like a gnawing void, as though you've been left behind. That nagging sensation of neglect that comes from someone turning their back on you only worsens as you move through your routines, leaving you feeling distant, disoriented, and unwanted.

New arrivals will find messages spray-painted in red 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

[oversight]

[ He's shy of appropriate ways to explain what's going on inside of him, but that's not really that unusual. ]

Guess I'm... relieved. Glad I woke up.

[ That's the most prominent thing on his mind at the moment but that's an oversimplification. Between the dreams and the incident in the shuttle bay, not to mention weeks of confusion and disorientation from before all of that, coming up with an accurate definition feels impossible. ]

You okay?

[mindtricks]

[ anderson nods, acknowledgement of his words and the corresponding emotional feedback that comes with it. relief is good. at the question, though, she shrugs. ]

I'm not feeling okay. [ but she should be. the ship has shown more than once how it can get under their skin, how it can influence their emotional and physical well-being. there's no reason for the hollow feeling inside her chest, but it's as real as the jump sickness making her nauseous. ]

[oversight]

[ John knows that not-okay feeling pretty well, but he popped out of the pod noting its absence this time around. He almost feels unsettled that he isn't unsettled. ]

That a blanket statement or are we talkin' somethin' more localized?

[ Concern is etched across his brow but he's not interested in pushing her if she's not willing to share. ]

[mindtricks]

[ he isn't feeling unsettled, except perhaps by how not unsettled he feels - but anderson certainly feels unsettled enough for both of them. still, she has to think about his question for a moment. ]

I feel isolated. [ a beat. ] Hollow.

[ the words are delivered neutrally, a description of how she feels more than an expression of the actual emotions. ] That, and sick, but that's not unusual after the jumps.

[oversight]

[ He nods, his eyes taking in all that they can. She looks a little pale, but which of them doesn't after all this time indoors? ]

If you need someone to pull you outta it, you know I will. Can come by later, maybe bring you somethin' to eat?

[ John has plenty of people and things to catch up on at this point but Cassandra's every bit as important and he's not about to forget the quiet friendship they've manages to forge here. ]

[mindtricks]

I'd like that.

[ it's probably nothing - the kind of lingering ill-effect of the jump that passes soon enough after, that she can eventually shake off the same way she does the jump sickness. still, she likes his cooking and she appreciates the offer, so she isn't going to decline it. ] Thank you.

[oversight]

[ He finds he'd like it, too. It gives him a chance to do something constructive and allows him to catch up with Anderson, something he always means to do on a more regular basis.

Reaching out, he gives her shoulder a squeeze and offers a smile. ]

Call you later, okay?


((OOC: Want to handwave or play it out or maybe do something new?))