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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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.

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Comments

[muscovy]

But it is silly to not want to keep your important things, because then you have nothing in the end. [He's silly himself that way, sometimes, though really most of the time it isn't even an issue because he has very few belongings that eh could give away.]

[foundafamily]

[He conceded with a nod. His most important things are actually people, but he understands just as well as anyone else the desire not to be left destitute.]

Yeah, I guess it is. Well, they still got it back in the end. But they didn't get angry or take revenge or anything like a lotta people would, you know?

[The way Muscovy talks about all of this gives Firo a hunch that the general attitudes of their worlds may not be all that different. At least on this topic.]

[muscovy]

Why not?

[It's a good thing, probably. Maybe. He can't really tell - it's something that should be normal not happening and on the one hand that is good in this case because that thing that should normally happen is bad, on the other hand it is not normal, so it is not how things are. And deviation like that can mean more trouble in the end than it is worth.]

[foundafamily]

[He glances at the doors as the lift thuds to a stop.]

I dunno. I guess they decided it was worth it to give me a chance.

[He nods firmly.]

Whatever it was, they're some a' the better people I've met.

[muscovy]

[He nods and really isn't sure what else to say with this, and they have arrived anyway, so he peers out of the lift cautiously when the doors slide open and then steps out, remaining quiet to hear if something is approaching, and also to not attract possibly dangerous creatures to their presence.]

[foundafamily]

[Sorry, Muscovy, Firo tends to babble if he gets going.

He steps out into the hallway and glances around. He doesn't seem to share Muscovy's plan about lying low and starts speaking almost immediately.]

Doesn't look like we've got any company.

...I wonder if the monsters would even bother comin' to a floor that doesn't have anybody on it.

[Comforting thought, right?]

[muscovy]

They will bother if they hear you talk here, yes?

[This is as close to a shut up as he'll get.]

[foundafamily]

[Sheepish, Firo glances down at Muscovy and concedes with a nod.]

...Maybe. All right.

[Okay, now he'll be quiet. He moves down the hallway, keeping his eyes open. When he spots one of the lounges, he nods to Muscovy and slips in.

There's a lot of clutter in this kind of place, which means there are lots of hiding places.]

[muscovy]

[When they enter the room, his daggers have appeared in Muscovy's hands and he watches their surroundings with concentration, leaving the finding of a hiding spot to Firo.

Everything is quiet and he doesn't even know what he is looking for, but this is... creepy and scary and strange. The only place that he has been to that was remotely similar as this had long since been occupied by people who were on a similar level of development as him, and while that place still had electricity and modern conveniences it was never entirely modern and always crowded.]

[foundafamily]

[Firo hasn't noticed it yet, but they've strayed beyond the lit corners of the ship and to somewhere that, well... They probably shouldn't be. As the lights in the passenger quarters go out for evening, it's not entirely odd that they're outside of the lit zone. Hey, maybe he just lost track of time...

He's not entirely sure anything is even wrong with where they are until he hears what just might be the faint scrape of claws. Firo immediately stiffens and has his knife in his free hand.]

...Tell me I'm just goin' crazy and you didn't hear that.

[muscovy]

[Muscovy just grips his daggers harder.

He didn't hear anything, but now he strains his ears, trying to pick up on anything that might be there, slowly turning around and back again to spot or hear whatever Firo might have heard. This place is really, really mean.]

[foundafamily]

[And another scratch, this time definitely closer. At this rate, Firo wonders if they'll be cornered.]

All right. We need to get outta here. Before it gets closer.

[He stuffs the eye in his pocket, thoughts of finding a hiding place abandoned. He starts moving for the exit, keeping a careful watch on Muscovy, ready to grab him if anything pops out.]

[ooc: Feel free to npc the monster, if you want! I was just thinking of one of the standard manticores.]

[muscovy]

[Muscovy looks around while following Firo's lead as quietly as he can, but he simply cannot see what Firo can see, being lot smaller, so he misses the manticore that is now perched on a higher cupboard, muscles taunt to jump at the little nation at any moment.

[foundafamily]

[Firo freezes for just a second when he spots it. Great. This is just great.]

Shit.

[He doesn't think there's a point to being quiet now--the thing's already close and ready to go.

Without thinking, he reaches for Muscovy's collar with the hand that isn't holding the knife. If the kid will let him, his plan is to drag Muscovy along as they run like hell. He's already eyeing some furniture they can throw at the thing as they beat their retreat.]

[muscovy]

[Muscovy jumps when the hand grabs him and struggles for a moment out of reflex, and that is all that the being needs to jump at them, digging its claws into Muscovy's arm. He only barely manages to hold on to the blade that he held in that hand, and uses the other to frantically stab the paw holding his arm down, paying no heed to if he stabs himself in his panic. It's ...not a nice sight, really, and bloody, but it also is effective.

The manticore howls in pain and anger and flinches back for just a moment, not enough for Muscovy himself to get up and out of the way, but there would be a chance for Firo to just grab the little nation and drag him away now.]

[foundafamily]

Hey--!

[Oh crap, oh crap. For a moment, Firo's certain that he's sealed Muscovy's doom; either the kid or the monster is going to tear him apart.

As soon as the monster winces, Firo lashes out with a kick to try and push it back. It's a wild movement, more of a warning and a ward than something intended to land solidly. His real focus is on asserting his grip on Muscovy and pulling him away. As soon as he has a good grasp, he'll try to half-carry half-drag the nation along in front of him as he starts booking it out of there.

The monsters don't tend to need much time to regroup, so getting them out as soon as possible is his only goal.

[muscovy]

[Muscovy is no heavier than a child his age should be (less so, maybe, because for all that he looks round that is mostly the way he dresses and his cheeks that are just rounder than anything else on his body. Even after a month on the ship he's still rather malnourished). So Firo should be able to half drag, half carry him with relative speed even before he finally manages to let his legs cooperate and support the moment, his hands still clutching his blades tightly (cannot drop those, absolutely not!)

The manticore drops back into the shadows for a moment, but there is a growling all around them as they run.

The beast wasn't alone.]

[foundafamily]

[Shit. It's all Firo can do not to curse out loud and that's only because he's trying to save his breath for something actually helpful.]

We need to be fast, okay? I can carry you if you need it, but we don't wanna get surrounded by these guys.

If too many come at us, just get behind me.

[He knows his regeneration has been inhibited to some extent here, but he'd still rather it be him getting shredded than Muscovy.

He glances behind them, his heart beating faster when he thinks he sees more pairs of eyes looking back.]

[muscovy]

I run fast.

[He's used to running from things or people. He's too small and weak to fight a good number of dangers, still, so he had to become rather adept at it, even after gaining a lot of fighting power in the Drabwurld.

...Fighting power in the Drabwurld. If they get surrounded, he can call upon his fire soldiers. But that will take stopping and wasting breath, and he'd rather just run.

So that is what he will do, try to get to the elevators as quickly as possible without losing Firo.]

[foundafamily]

Good.

[Speed helps a lot, because Firo's not so eager to tangle with these things again. He runs behind Muscovy to try and be in position to shield him if the monsters get too close.

He can see an elevator up ahead. If they can reach it in time, he'll step inside once Muscovy makes it and hammer the button for another floor. ]

[muscovy]

[As soon as they're inside the elvator, Muscovy reaches into his pocket and quickly leans down to pull three little tin soldiers out of his pocket and placing them on the ground before whispering a command. They turn into thirty centimetres high little men that are purely made of flame and line up at the entrance of the elevator, not blocking the door from closing but ready to attack the manticores if they try to get in.

....And his eyes go wide in shock as he sees them. THEY SHOULD NOT BE THIS SMALL.

[foundafamily]

[Firo glances over at Muscovy as he hits the button for any floor but this one. He wonders why the heck the kid's playing at a time like this, but then the things erupt into fire.]

What the hell're those?

[He bashes the button a few more times as he stares in confusion, but the door is closing slowly. Agonizingly slowly. Slowly enough that a manticore lunges forward and snaps through the gap at the little soldiers.]

[muscovy]

[Two little flame soldiers swing their swords at the attacker, and as the tip of the manticore's muzzle falls to the ground while the beast jumps back, what remains of its face on fire, the door finally closes. Muscovy still doesn't answer though, too shocked still to do so. The soldiers keeps standing in front of the door, ready to attack again if anyonething tries to enter.]

[foundafamily]

[Firo slumps against the side of the elevator as the doors close and they're whisked away. First it goes up, then starts moving horizontally, taking them away from the darker hallways.

He stares at the soldiers.]

...Thanks.

What are these guys?

[muscovy]

They are mine, and only listen to my words.

[He crouches down and holds a hand out, whispering a command to make them return to him. They do, and stop just far enough away from him to not set him on fire before abruptly turning back into little toy soldiers so that he can pocket them. Which he then will do.]

But they should be much taller.