ARRIVAL ▒ 003

[ataraxites]

CHARACTERS: Any and all.
LOCATION: Basecamp, Medical and beyond.
WARNINGS: Implied (and possibly explicit) nakedness.
SUMMARY: The Tranquility jumps again.
NOTES: Can be found at the bottom of the post.

T H E   C A M P   ( C U R R E N T   C H A R A C T E R S ) Dawn is just shy of breaking when the alarms start. The wailing is distant enough that many manage to sleep through it, but inevitably wake up to the long, piercing siren coming from the crashed, early morning shape of the Tranquility. The coming jump puts a feeling of nervous energy about the camp, but it's becoming a routine, and they know there are long hours until the jump sounds. People clear the surrounding area of effect, and otherwise go about their day. It's ten hours later when it happens. A tremble in the earth, shaking up through the trees, sending the jungle's wildlife into distressed flocks of movement and alarmed cries. Under the shrouded sun the wreck of the Tranquility begins to cord with lines of white light, threading across the hull like veins, some patches remaining dark, standing out against the vision like splotches burnt to the back of the eyelids. There's no great sound. In an instant, the ship is gone, a soft whomp, a feeling of air rushing past, the trees bending towards the site as if blown by a fierce wind. It's only a second. With a crack, the wreck returns, a rumble rolling through the air like thunder. The earth shakes. The trees tremble. The ship groans, the sound echoing out like the cry of a wounded beast. Everything turns white. M E D I C A L   ( N E W   A R R I V A L S ) You wake up, alone in the dark. There's a breathing tube jammed down your trachea, and you're suspended in a tube of clear blue fluid. Through the fog you can see shadows of movement, the muted sound of alarms crying. 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 suddenly dropped several feet onto the opposite wall. The impact is painful, winds you, and it takes several seconds to overcome and persuade uncooperative limbs to move. All around you is chaos: the sirens of alarms are shrieking in your ears, close and claustrophic in the wreckage of the medical bay you've awoken in, lit dim and red. Around you, others are waking up, falling from other gravcouches, stumbling to their feet. Light catches your eye, and you look up to see a huge rend in the outer wall high above you, overhung by broken structural beams and damaged cabling. Climbing up takes all the strength you have. You emerge in bleak, grey sunlight, surrounded by an immense, vast jungle. As your vision clears, you realize you stand on the hull of a colossal spaceship, crashed on an unknown world, two moons hanging heavy in the sky above. In the distance, far out on a great swathe of torn up earth through the jungle is the site of a camp. But there is no welcome party coming to greet you. Perhaps you are alone, or you encounter someone in the same situation, but regardless, you must make it down and away from the ship without the aid of anyone who knows what's going on. Should you choose to head for the camp, it's dead quiet. The men and women who have made this place their home are scattered around, in the midst of having gone about their day, but all of them are in a state of frozen catatonia. Entirely unresponsive to any kind of stimulus, they are as still and as unseeing as statues. Within two hours since you woke in the wreck of the ship, they suddenly and simultaneously begin to stir, regaining consciousness to a prompt nose bleed and the unsettling affect of lost time. N O T E S Anything remaining within a mile radius of the ship when it jumps will be irreparably damaged. Soft organics will be pulverised, while all trees and plants will initially appear fine but crumble to pieces within a day (or sooner if disturbed). Non-organic material will also be weakened, bending or falling apart when touched. Newly arriving characters venturing through the medbay will discover their inventory items scattered beyond the ship. Feel free to find all of your inventory items, or lose as many as you like, as they will be randomly distributed around the jump radius. They will also be able to find jumpsuits and other standard clothing in the wreckage of medical. The alarms will cut after two hours, a which point a looping audio message telling passengers to make their way to the blue lifts will be audible. The lifts, if investigated, will be missing, leaving only empty elevator shafts. The wreck will show increased signs of instability for a few days after the jump, and will have seemed to have sunk further into the rock of the cliff than it was before. As described, all current characters will simultaneously enter a state of strange catatonia when the ship jumps, essentially freezing in place. They will see only blank whiteness, and be unable to recall how long they spent in this state. Upon regaining full consciousness two hours later, they will be left with a headache and a nosebleed. If you have any other questions, please don't hesitate to contact us via PM, the FAQ or Questions pages!

Comments

[dogbane]

William's expression sharpens with interest. He looks at her sideways, and it's as tangible as paint fastening to a white wall. Wary. No longer frightened, mind you; there is a lot to be afraid of here on the planet, and the time that's passed since they inhabited the Tranquility make those particular terrors seem further and further away. Nonetheless, that seems like prospectively interesting knowledge.

Especially since they found out about the tether, the hard way. Even if it isn't the most immediate threat to their lives, day-to-day, the ship insists on remaining relevant.

"Did you?"

He skirts a spiny-looking plant, tucking his hands into his pockets as if abruptly remembering how to look like a person. "What the fuck was that all about, then?"

[circumitus]

...

Rey had promised Firo that she wouldn't make a public network announcement this time. That she would keep it between them. But she knows that William wouldn't come after her with pitchforks, and he was even just as pissed when she had practically put a target on herself. Not that anything like that came from her actions, but...

"Bringing the pilot to that room gave it the information it needed to send us to van Rijn." When she speaks, she's deadpan and cold and detached than she was before, as she marches like the soldier she is. "That's why Smiley called 'traitor'."

She doesn't know how many, or if anyone at all, has been able to piece this information together. Or if they even cared anymore.

[dogbane]

That is somehow both worse and better than William had expected. "Well, fuck," he says, slowly. His voice is just a little louder than the crunch and pulp sounds of his feet connecting and disconnecting with the terrain below. "Bloody ship definitely could do less with sticking its hands up our arses and fiddling with us like we're fucking handpuppets."

He refocuses the blame where it should go. Truly. How could Rey have known? "You know what? It also would've been nice of the red fucker would've let you know before we went and did the thing." He scoffs. Part of this is his urge to reassure. When he's with his friends, he'll start to chat up a storm. A few months of solitude have depressed the usual urges, but the engine has had more than a good half-hour to warm up, now, and he's ready to run his mouth. "We know the bastard has learned to send a fucking text message, right? God. Fucking cunt. Guess the buck stops-- all the way over there.

"Guess Smiley and Van Rijn still don't get on," he adds, a little more optimistically. He likes that mostly because he doesn't get on with Van Rijn as a concept, himself. "I wonder where the red fucker is anymore."

[circumitus]

"Agreed," Rey nods.

The most fortunate thing is that she hadn't felt the same way since the ship crashed. Whether or not the influence has been severed completely or it's just dormant, she's reluctant to even dwell on much.

Despite her past actions, William's inclination to shift culpability away from Rey doesn't go unappreciated. Unlike before, this isn't information that'll help them now. What's done is done, and taking her responsibility out in the open would do nothing more than shoot herself in the foot.

Besides, she'd rather not have the attention.

"Don't know. Honestly, don't care where he is anymore." Dead, still in the Tranquility, or whatever. It makes no difference to her now. "Would just like to get as far away from the ship, and it, as possible."

shall we wrap this one soon and do january things? :)

[dogbane]

William nods his head emphatically beside her, his eyes drifting down to the ground in front of them. "Hear fucking hear, love," he says, fervently. He has many reasons to move away from camp, and many of them greater than the specific aversion to the Tranquility and all that it represents, but that's actually a fairly substantial one as well.

He'd be halfway around the planet, he thinks, were it not for the tether. And on that note, "Fuck the tether." He twists his head aside and spits on a fern for good measure. It's a victimless crime; the fern doesn't seem to mind.

He exudes a sigh. "Suppose all we can do is keep cracking on."