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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.
nnnnooooooooooooo
Her voice still has an odd, drifting quality to it, loud and ringing but strangely displaced. It takes Scott a few seconds to sort through the mess of sounds and find the source— and when he does, he freezes.
The sound of his own heartbeat is something he's gotten used to ignoring. It grinds to a halt before kicking up, heavy, and he has to swallow back his shock before it becomes too obvious. This isn't home. This is the ship, and this is how the ship works. He remembers that, even if his heart's taking a second to catch up. ]
Allison.
[ Too quiet. She can probably see him speak more than hear it. Then he blinks, snapping out of it, and there's something very forced about the way he glances away towards a nearby stack of towels, grabbing a few before threading his way across the room to meet her. One of them's stuffed under his arm while the other's unfolded, and he's wrapping it around her shoulders before he realizes that might be overstepping. A slight falter in his movements, an awkward half-step back, but he hasn't let go. ]
Sorry. I'm not... [ Sure. What she remembers, whether Isaac's here, how either of them feel beyond dying confessions. He's not quite sure those count, here. ]
already crying about it
[ And she is so grateful for it. With everything going on, with Isaac threatening her, the revelation of what was happening to them all, herself at a complete loss on what or how to do anything—Scott is someone she can rely on. He may not know what to do, either, but they can not know what to do together. ] I'm guessing you don't remember, though.
no subject
This thing's called the Tranquility, right?
[ Just checking. It could be another spaceship that's completely identical, it's not like that'd be the weirdest thing that's ever happened. ]
no subject
[ Her time with him here had been short, but him having memories of this place made things a lot easier, if she was being honest with herself. He was used to everything, including the messed up parts. ] This is jump 44.
no subject
I was jump... seventeen, I think? But I barely remember thirty.
[ He'd missed over ten jumps. The realization's jarring, but not because he really would've rather been on the ship. It's just ten-plus jumps Allison might've been here without him. ]
no subject
[ She's already trying to figure this out, why he remembers part of it but not that gap in between. Something to do with whatever it was trying to get inside their heads, maybe. What already had gotten inside their heads. If she sounds hurt by the fact he left, she doesn't mean to. She's used to it now, although she's been one of the luckier ones who only had two people taken that she knew as more than just another face on the ship. Lydia had gone into her pod and woken up with no memory at all. It didn't count as being taken.
She and Stiles had been working together to try and figure it out before he was taken, too. Allison hopes that she sounds more glad to see him than anything else, because she is. Lack of memory of the one jump they were here at the same time (that she remembers anyway) not withstanding.
Allison looks away and then looks back at him, heart suddenly pounding a little. There's something else she wants to ask, but she doesn't know if she should. Part of her chides her on this, telling her he probably saw the scar, and if he knows he wouldn't need to ask. Another part reminds her that if he hadn't he wouldn't say anything about it at all, and Allison elects to side with that. So she needs to ask.
But not here. ] D'you wanna get out of here? I, um. Think the goo is starting to dry and my cat ran off.
no subject
He doesn't want to make this any heavier than it has to be. If Allison is okay, if she's moved on — so can he. And if she doesn't remember dying—
Then her heartbeat picks up. He catches it immediately, and it drags him from one indecision to another. He's on the cusp of asking her what's wrong when she beats him to speaking, and he responds by visibly relaxing, trying to play along with her attempt at casual. ]
Yeah. [ To getting out of here, and a beat later, expression turning curious and a tiny bit amused: ] You have a cat?
no subject
[ She grins at him a little, shrugging her shoulders slightly, and starts to head for the showers. ] Lydia—she used to have Prada and a cat named MiuMiu here. Before she woke up without remembering anything. They just sort of... vanished, and I guess I missed the company. So when he offered, I accepted.
She does her own thing mostly. I get the feeling she's always been pretty independant.
[ Small talk is good. Small talk keeps her from having to talk about other things. ]
no subject
Only he does remember, eventually. His easy smile falters for a beat, but it doesn't completely fade. He rallies it a second later, well enough that anyone who didn't know him that well would probably buy it. He follows her lead, too, falling into stride as she heads towards the showers with only a brief glance over the rest of the room. ]
A lot of cats are. [ He looks back to Allison before he continues, composure completely back intact. ] That or they just really hate vets. [ Guess who prefers working with dogs: this guy. ] Are there still a lot of animals on the ship?
no subject
Yeah, mostly up in the Oxygen Gardens. Chickens, cats, Sirius Black even got me a small pony, although it's not real. They could probably use someone to help them out, actually.
[ She stops when they get to the showers, turning towards him and rolling her shoulder back to indicate the shower room behind her. ] We're all located on floor 9. My room is room 11. Can we meet there? To talk?
[ About the elephant they're both totally ignoring. ]
soRRY wraps this up!!
[ It sounds... a little bit like a date, but he's careful to not think of it as that or to make it sound like that, as much as possible. Tries to sound reasonably enthusiastic without being overenthusiastic, which is actually easier to do thanks to said elephant.
His nerves shows in the distracted glance towards the showers, like he's completely forgotten the fact that they're in towels. He sort of has, honestly. It also shows in the way his next comment barely sounds like a statement instead of a question. ]
I'll see you then.