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ataraxionlogs2015-05-07 09:14 pm
ataraxites) wrote in ataraxionlogs2015-05-07 09:14 pm
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- bethmora fortescue,
- booker dewitt,
- carl grimes,
- carlisle longinmouth,
- chell,
- elizabeth,
- enfys llewelyn,
- felix gaeta,
- fenris,
- fiona (borderlands),
- firo prochainezo,
- hiro hamada,
- ivan,
- jemma simmons,
- john blake | au,
- laura roslin,
- minho,
- muscovy,
- nill,
- nowi,
- philip (penumbra) | au,
- remus lupin,
- rhys (borderlands),
- rikku | au,
- samantha martinez,
- selina kyle,
- sophie groeneveldt,
- tadashi hamada,
- the warden (mira tabris),
- valya
forty-third 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: 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.
----------------
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: 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.
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.
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[Which was still surprising and yet not.]
Though I don't think most remember anymore. Shale was with me when we were trying to get the dwarves to honour the grey warden treaties and we found more information about who she used to be in the Deep Roads and in a old Thaig.
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The golem fact has her turning, a hand pressing to call the lifts. ]
--Do all dwarves turn into golems, then? And how would they-- I feel grossly uneducated.
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Shale's control rod didn't work for us which was why she was able to travel with us of her own free will and have a personality. Which I'm glad about, she's a dear friend even if she is grumpy.
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I don't think I'd be able to follow along through half of that without a reference nearby.
[ But the thought of it, what she could follow: Dwarves creating golems from other dwarves. A way to control them and reduce them to something less than people. It is disturbing and amazing and reminds her too much of Isseya despite herself. Remembers what was done to the griffons. ]
I'm glad your friend was able to regain herself. It sounds awful to have been through, like a slave in your own body.
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She was not a fan of it. Or in people in general really. For which I can't blame her.
[She laughs slightly because she just remembered.]
She warmed up to me and then decided that alienage elves must be superior in some way to the rest of the world because that's the only reason she could see for liking me.
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I would like to meet someone that thinks that. She's likely the only one.
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[It's said with a smile but she's only slightly joking.]
In the very lest we should be able to believe we're worth as much as everyone else.
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Valya swallows, hard. There's a truth in that she can't deny. ]
...The Warden who won the Fourth Blight. Garahel. He and his sister, they were both from the alienage.
[ As well as Mira herself. Valya smiles slightly, then says firmly. ]
People shouldn't be able to deny our worth.
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No, they shouldn't.
I'm not sure how but I'm going to do my best to make sure they can't, ever again.
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Valya believes her and almost doesn't want to, doesn't want to have hope. She instead-- Just tries to smile. Moves a finger over the now-sleeping Revas in comfort. ]
Well, you'd have a better time doing that on griffonback. There's twelve more little ones waiting back home for you to choose from.
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Did you name them all?
[It's a way to move to a better topic because while it's her goal, among also recent thoughts towards finding a cure for the Calling, it's not a light topic and while she is a Warden she doesn't trust them to offer any support to either.]
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I... came here right after they hatched.
[ With two, now one, is the unsaid. ]
I can only hope my friends got back safely with the clutch. Or are hiding somewhere for the time being. It wasn't a sure thing, giving them back to the Wardens.
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What were the Wardens you were with like?
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[ She almost laughs, then doesn't. ]
The same as any other person, I guess. There were good and bad, but mostly they didn't want to get to know us. I thought it might be because they were going to turn us over at some point. Caronel is a good person, though. He went with me to get the eggs, even without knowing they were there.
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There were three in my joining. I was the only one who survived.
[She frowns slightly. Because well she's famous for being a warden after all...and she...doesn't really like them.]
I may be ...a warden. I may only be alive because I'm a warden. But I'm not their biggest fan.
no subject
...I don't think I like them either. Not really. I more just wanted a way to keep living. They've done a lot of... hard things in the past. [ She hesitates. ] The Wardens are the reason the griffons went extinct.
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[She sighs and rubs her forehead.]
I've met some good wardens along the way but I'm really not the best example of one since we were on our own for so long ....and sometimes I just leave.
Look, if you're serious about joining the Wardens, despite the risk, and there is a risk that you will simply die. Choose before you enter the joining ritual. They will kill you if you try to change your mind there. That's how the second man died in my joining. He watched the first person die from the ritual and wanted out.
[Secrets are all well and good but Mira doesn't care.]
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If I don't join the Wardens, I'm dead anyway. No matter if you don't want to fight, the templars have been slaughtering mages left and right. The Wardens' neutrality-- [ Faltering as that is. ] --is the only way I'll keep living.
no subject
Then I wish you luck. You'll make a good Warden and we need more of them.