ａｘｍｏｄｓ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ataraxites) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2015-06-08 12:00 am
ataraxites) wrote in ataraxionlogs2015-06-08 12:00 am
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- ai enma,
- ailanne rei,
- allison argent,
- bail organa,
- brigid tenenbaum,
- captain hook (killian jones),
- cora hale,
- daryl dixon,
- death (discworld),
- death (sandman),
- derek hale,
- eleanor lamb,
- elizabeth,
- enfys llewelyn,
- fenris,
- firo prochainezo,
- garrett hawke,
- grant ward,
- hermione granger,
- ivan,
- jackson "jax" teller,
- karone,
- laura roslin,
- lee "apollo" adama,
- leo fitz,
- leonard "bones" mccoy (xi),
- maes hughes,
- max rockatansky,
- minho,
- nami,
- robin,
- scott mccall,
- skye,
- tadashi hamada,
- takeshi,
- taylor "tyke" kee,
- thomas
forty-fourth 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: Awareness comes to you slowly in the smothering quiet of the blue fluid. In the light piercing through from the medical bay you realise there's a shadow, a figure stood at the glass of your gravcouch, a hand pressed to the surface just above your face. Fear spikes through your gut as waves of alien sensation crash into your mind, a rage that feels endless, all-consuming, furious, molten hatred that you know is for you.
When the fluid drains, door sliding open to deposit you on the medbay floor, you remember it. Remember it coming again and again, like a nightmare that plagued your sleep over and over, leaving you with no respite, no rest. Days. Perhaps even longer.
You remember that the light coming through from behind the shadow was red.
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: Awareness comes to you slowly in the smothering quiet of the blue fluid. In the light piercing through from the medical bay you realise there's a shadow, a figure stood at the glass of your gravcouch, a hand pressed to the surface just above your face. Fear spikes through your gut as waves of alien sensation crash into your mind, a rage that feels endless, all-consuming, furious, molten hatred that you know is for you.
When the fluid drains, door sliding open to deposit you on the medbay floor, you remember it. Remember it coming again and again, like a nightmare that plagued your sleep over and over, leaving you with no respite, no rest. Days. Perhaps even longer.
You remember that the light coming through from behind the shadow was red.
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.
Locker.
[It's a bit sheepish, mostly because Takeshi's pretty sure it's rude to intrude on people while they're at their lockers trying to figure themselves out (she's new, Takeshi thinks; she acts new). He has just cleaned off his wet hair, had just gotten his sweater back on, the black leather powersuit underneath only shown at his neck and over his hands as he observes her. She was poking at something weird, and he's too nosy for his own good. And short. Very short, even for his age, and he has to crane his neck up to see.
His panda, which is sitting a little ways behind him chewing on his own foot, is not so nosy.
Yet. Lucky you.]
no subject
Uh — … Honestly? I'm not sure. [ She shuts the locker decisively. Let it be tomorrow's problem. But she did pocket a 5x3 hard drive before letting the door slam all the way. ] Some weird metal thing. [ She reaches up, scratching the back of her head and shrugging loosely, as if she's much more at ease in this situation than she actually is. ] You new, too?
no subject
No ma'am!! I'm not new! I'm old. But I was gone for a tiny bit, then I came back.
[Totally normal, like talking about the weather.]
Maybe the ship put it there... It might be bad! Don't touch it.
no subject
I'll make sure no one gets their hands on it until we know what it is. [ She smiles. ] You can just call me Skye, it's okay.
no subject
Seems like a good plan.
He straightens up his posture, puffing his chest slightly to look more certified.]
I'm Takeshi! I'm the Moral Officer in the garden!
Are you okay??
no subject
[ On second thought, she tips her head in acknowledgment. ]
That makes this either the most terrifying or the absolute coolest day of my life. I guess it can probably be both.
no subject
[takeshi idk about that
but — ]
What's ab-duc-ted mean?
no subject
no subject
Like how the aliens were taking people on my planet!!
[SPARKLE.
nah but his world is really horrible]
no subject
no subject
Y-yeah! They was blowing up buildings and — um, they killed people.
And they took lots of people! My dad went to go help. But I got attacked by big spider guys while I was waiting for him to come back...
[sigh my life]
no subject
[ It's obvious that she doesn't expect most children to have been through something like that. ]
I'm glad you're okay. What about your dad? Do you know what happened to him, is he here?
no subject
My Dad's still fighting the aliens. But then I came here! And I got a dad here, too. And a mom.
I'm sure my dad from home is safe, though. He's Muscle Rider, and he's really, really strong.
no subject
[ That seems to strike a personal chord, but she doesn't make much of it. Just softness in her eyes. Empathy. ]
no subject
He blinks.]
A foster family? What's a foster?
no subject
no subject
[but wait a second]
What's prison?
[It might sound familiar? But not really, gomen.]
no subject
no subject
Baaaaad guys.
no subject
[ Concern flickered through her expression, and she leaned in a little, dropping her voice. ]
Are they here?
no subject
Some at home!! And — and there was a bad person here who shot my friend... But I dunno... if he's here no more. 'Cus nobody's been shot for a long time. I think everyone's okay.
no subject
no subject
Nuh-uh. He was — he never showed his face on the phone.
And he made his voice sound funny... so I never got to beat him up for what he did.
[It sucks, that Kazama left and he never even got to avenge him.]
no subject
But if it was here and on the phone, he must have had a number right? [ She held up her arm, showing 044-084 on her own nanite tattoo. ] Do you remember what it was?
no subject
Instead he's a bit defeated.]
It was an... an—anymous. No numbers...
They was a big scaredy cat! They didn't even let anyone know what they did!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)