axmods. (
ataraxites) wrote in
ataraxionlogs2015-06-08 12:00 am
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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.
no subject
[ Well, she can't. Not exactly. No one's ever forgotten her, just left her behind and taken her back for store credit. But mostly, she feels compassion and understanding for what Sam must be going through, expecting to find a friend and encountering a stranger. For her, it's just weird. Slightly jarring, maybe, but she can get over it easily. It's not like Skye to ever let expectations corner her. But for him … ]
I wish I could remember. [ Said softly, with a hollow shake of her head that says it's not such a compelling wish that she'd go seek it out or fight to figure out a way to get those memories back. After all, she didn't even know they were gone. ] Did we … Were we friends?
no subject
[And then he'd either made connections with those people all over again, or made new ones. There wasn't anything he could have done about it, and he wasn't the first nor obviously the last to deal with it.
Just another thing you had to deal with aboard the Tranquility.]
Yeah, you could say that. We fought that thing together. You helped me out when a friend died. I'd say that counts.
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[ Slightly disheartened, Skye's expression softens with sympathy. ]
What happened?
[ It's cliff notes by comparison to remembering, but at least she'll have the information. And since it's already come up, she has to figure he's not going to be super uncomfortable talking about it. ]
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[Which makes for a good warning in the future. DONT STAY OUT DURING THE JUMP.]
However the jumps work, her body couldn't handle it. [A beat.] There may have been other forces at work, though. Something that kept her away from the pods in the first place.
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"Other forces."
[ Skye repeats the phrase, shaking her head. ]
Like someone kidnapped her and kept her away from this part of the ship?
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There's was a trail of blood leading to her. I think she was running from something when it happened. She also left us a message, told us that 'it's out there and it wants us alone.'
Not too long after that, if we isolated ourselves for too long, we started to spontaneously bleed. And after that started, one by one we started getting trapped. Doors would lock, hallways would seal themselves, all in an attempt to keep us separated from one another.
[He doesn't elaborate further, on the hallucinations or the mind links because he doesn't fully understand them himself.]
I don't know if it might happen again, but just make sure you don't go off anywhere alone. Even without all that, it can get dangerous out in the hallways.
no subject
the
fuck.
It sounds straight out of a horror movie. Blood, death, disaster. "It" sounds like something preternatural, like what Hannah Hutchins had been dealing with. Going very still, eyes wide, Skye holds her breath until Sam's done explaining. ]
Something else is here, isn't it? Locked up with us. [ She remembers the hand slapping against the glass of her grav couch just as she woke up. Chills leave goosebumps on her skin. ] What is it?
no subject
[He shakes his head.]
We don't know. No one's ever seen it, as far as I know.
[He doesn't know if that's what Seraphim saw, only that she had a warning about it. If she saw it, she didn't give any details.]
no subject
God, Sam. I'm really sorry. I didn't know it was that bad, that must have been horrible.
[ She can't fix whatever this thing locked up with them is, but she can be there for Sam. However long ago it was, it obviously still hurts. ]
Look, I know it's not the same, or whatever, but you can still talk to me if you need anything, or if ... I don't know. If there's anything I can do to help.
no subject
You don't have to apologize, Skye. You didn't do anything wrong.
[He appreciates the sentiment, though, and it's a tribute to her character that she's still willing, despite the loss of her memories. She was there for him once already, after all, and she didn't need to do that either.]
You already did help. You just don't remember. [He tries to manage a smile at that, before he goes on.] Look, I'm just glad you got to hear about what's going on before you headed up.
no subject
Yeah, I— Thank you. Seriously. Every time I think I've got some idea of what's going on here, there's more to it. [ First Jax, then Fitz, then Simmons. Piling confusion onto confusion. It's not their fault, of course. There's a lot to get to.
And to some degree, it's incredible. She won't lapse into amazement here and now, knowing the cost, but it's not lost on her that she's in deep space. People spent their whole lives dreaming of stuff like this, and Skye was living it. On the other hand, people were also dying from it. Good people, by the look on Sam's face. ]
no subject
[But at least he's been able to catch her up to speed, give her some warnings. He doesn't want to lose anyone else on this ship that he cares about.]
Just make sure that if you need anything, you call me, alright? My brother, Dean, is here too, if for some reason you can't get a hold of me. You can trust him.
[There are others, but he trusts his brother first. Of course. If she says she's Sam's friend, he'll come running.]
no subject
She just wished Ward or May or Coulson were here too, to help her do it. But Sam's offer reminds her of them. Of Ward and Coulson, at least. May was … tougher. Still, Skye knew even if it didn't come with a warm offer, May would have been looking out for people who needed help. It makes it easier for her to trust Sam at the same time that it makes her miss the rest of her team. ]
Okay. I will. Thanks. [ With that said, ] Your brother's here too? Must be nice. [ Glancing past his shoulder out into the medical bay proper, she seems to scan the area. ] My friends are too. People who I knew before I got here.
no subject
[Especially after the whole demon blood incident. Looking back, he knows he'd been an idiot, but it's hard to reason with someone who's lost sight of what's reasonable.]
Yeah? [His eyes raise at that.] Did they just get here, too? [Because if they were already here, Skye had never mentioned them before.]
no subject
[ She doesn't seem to think much of it, or try to explore reasons that she might not have mentioned them. After all, running for her life and hearing about Sam's dead friend doesn't really open up talking about her own positive experiences. ]
We all worked together. It helps, having people around that you know you can trust.
no subject
He's not sure his brother had ever come up before, either, but things also hadn't gotten this insane.
He nods his head in understanding.]
There's only one other person here I know from home, but if you ever meet someone who calls himself Castiel, he's safe. A little odd, maybe, but he's a friend.
[Also an angel, and 'accidentally' responsible for some souls going missing for a minute, but shhhh.]
no subject
[ She repeats it to make it clear she'll remember and nods. ]
Thanks. Sounds like everybody could use a friend in this place.
[ Her smile seems to say that she's decided, whether she remembers or not, that she can count Sam among them. Then, after a moment's silence— ] … What's a boggart?
no subject
It was, uh, a creature that could take the shape of your worst fears. As it grew stronger and multiplied, it could make you see full blown hallucinations. It was also virtually indestructible.
no subject
[ No matter how hard she tries, she can't keep the thrum of excitement out of her voice. In a quieter, awed tone, she adds with some wistfulness for the memories: ] Cool.
[ A beat later, she corrects. ] I mean, it sounds terrible. And horrifying. But super cool.
no subject
I guess that's one way of putting it. Hiding from it in a closet wasn't all that cool, though.
[Yep. That happened.]
no subject
Come on. How many people can say they've hidden in a spaceship closet from mind-controlling aliens? Even you have to admit it's a little awesome. I refuse to believe it's just the safe buffer of amnesia letting me recognize the cool factor.
no subject
In retrospect, maybe.
[Considering the insane number of monsters he's fought and killed in his lifetime, nothing is particularly awesome or cool anymore. But for people new to that kind of thing, he can sometimes understand putting it under that kind of umbrella.]
At the time, not nearly as much fun.
no subject
[ Skye accepts finally, a wry edge to her voice. For a moment, this feels almost normal. Like she's not just been uprooted and stuffed on board a spaceship. ]
So how'd we stop them?
no subject
[Which means it still exists, yay!]
no subject
[ whaT THE FUCK. ]
Can't we, like, jettison it into deep space or something? That definitely sounds like the kind of thing you ditch out an airlock.
[ That's what SHIELD does but with rockets ... #responsible ]
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