forty-fourth 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: 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.


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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

[workout]

No. I mean, she was, but— [ Actually, he wouldn't even know. His senses are still suffering, thanks to the jump. He goes quiet, giving the mask one last lingering look before he places it in his locker and closes the door behind it.

That doesn't mean he doesn't have a million more questions about it, obviously. He just doesn't want it freaking Lydia out any more than it already has. ]

Did you go home?

[immuno]

That's complicated. [ She admits, only shifting her gaze back to Scott after the locker door has closed. ] I don't remember being here before, but I didn't miss any jumps, either. [ She holds up her arm. ] Everyone knew me, but ... I just got here six jumps ago.

[workout]

Oh. [ Surprised; not unpleasantly so, but... it's another thing he's not completely sure how to handle, though maybe it's better in the long run. A short pause to count back on the jumps, forty-four minus six. ]

I remember being here before. With you, but— not you.

[immuno]

I figured.

[ "Did you go home" offered good context. ]

Cora, Derek and Isaac are still here. And Allison. [ But Stiles went. ] You should be careful with Isaac.

[workout]

I know. [ ... well, he knows about Allison, and that feels like the most important thing. It does until Lydia adds that note of caution, anyway. He hesitates, distracted by memories of the last time he'd been on the ship. Arguing with Isaac, trying to help him cope with the jumps.

Memories that make it easier for him to follow the implications, apparently; enough so that he sounds genuinely worried instead of skeptical. ]

Why?

[immuno]

Derek said he's been taking orders from that thing.

[ Realizing how ambiguous the declaration was, she clarifies, ] The smiling one, on the network.

[ Scott doesn't need to know the dark extents to what those orders were. It would only hurt him to know what his friends had been up to while he wasn't there. A whole lot of hurt. They all tried to live up to something better than they were because it was what Scott believed of them, but if anything, this little adventure just proved that they didn't meet those expectations. Not in the slightest. ]

[workout]

[ The flicker of confusion in his expression is laid to rest by that clarification. Isaac, taking orders from — Smiley, or whatever. Some ghost on the ship. One that hadn't been up to any good, as far as Scott could tell (which wasn't much, admittedly).

His face darkens as that sinks in, expression going somber. There's a hint of something else, too — anger, visible only in the set of his jaw. ]

I shouldn't have left. [ Which is completely stupid. That isn't something he can control, and he'd been doing a crappy job of helping Isaac before, anyway. He seems to regret saying it, following it up with a quick: ] Thanks for telling me.

[immuno]

It's not like you chose to.

[ That much, Lydia convinced herself of. It made her feel better about Stiles disappearing, at least. ]

Even you can't control everything, Scott. True Alpha or not, you're still just a person.

[workout]

Yeah. [ Not dismissive — he gets it, and he knows she's right. It doesn't stop him from giving her a sympathetic look that makes it obvious he's going to try, anyway.

Scott goes quiet for a second, studying her, and there's something almost like confusion in his expression. He listens to her heartbeat, notes the familiarity of her words, the confidence. ]

I'm glad you're here.

[ She isn't the one who lied to them. It's an acknowledgement she doesn't have the context for, forgiveness phrased as simple, straightforward gratitude. ]

[immuno]

[ She notices the weirdness, hums quietly for a moment as she tries to determine the source. After a beat, she opts to not give a fuck and figure it out later, breezily glossing over it instead. ]

Of course you are. [ A smirk settles onto her lips. ] Without me, you'd be doomed.