ataraxionlogs | (no subject)

CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
LOCATION: MED BAY
WARNINGS: ... Partial nudity? It should be pretty tame, but let me know if I need to add anything.
SUMMARY: Side-effects of a jump may include disorientation and temporary memory loss. Fortunately, there are a handful of others who have been through this before.
NOTES: Yes, it's a rehashing of the game premise. Don't worry, you can personalize your own (re-)introduction!

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. 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.

Don't worry, you are not alone. There are others who have come before you, others who are awakening beside you. Some may be familiar to you, perhaps even friends. They will help you through your disorientation, even though they might suffer from it too.

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.

This is your welcome party.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

This is still utterly annoying the second time around, Tali decides. At least she feels as if her body -- or her suit, at least -- is telling her this is familiar, because it takes less time for her than she remembers to push to her feet and start sloughing off the goo from her suit. She's still thankful that the gravity couches haven't deemed to strip of her the equipment that keeps her alive in these jumps, but that thankfulness is only momentary. She forces herself into the other room and to her locker to grab her things, though -- her comm device and her weapon -- before walking back to the main room.

At least there'd been a warning. A quick glance around tells her that there are more people than before, and that's what leads her to announce -- however shakily -- the following.

"Is there anyone out here that needs assistance?" She hopes it's loud enough.

John is perching on one of the metal stretchers that rests beneath a host of tools, all ready for the call of the computer nearby. It's perfectly harmless, almost inert aside from the hum of the system. Being here, out of the way of the flood of those escaping the tanks, allows him to both collect himself and watch over everyone else. He hears her call, and the tremor in it as well.

It takes a moment, but he's got his knuckles against his lips and is giving one, sharp note of a whistle in her direction. He can't tell if he's catching her eye or not, but he gestures with a hand for her to come over.

She's not sure how she feels about being summoned over by a whistle, but she recognizes him as one of the doctors who had wanted any non-humans to come and visit him if they had any problems or special concerns, and she certainly fell into that category. Now seemed as good a time as any to get that taken care of.

Tali walks over to him with a tilt of her head, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes?"

"Sorry," He greets her, along with a small, apologetic smile. One, he didn't want to go shouting in a room full of stunned people and, well... John couldn't recall her name right off. The apparatus that she wears, though, is somewhat familiar, and he does know that he will need to speak to any non-humans that come in.

"The med staff has your medical information, right?" He shifted to pick up a plane of glass nearby, apparently used for this sort of information. Her number was his saving grace. "Tali, I'm Doctor Watson, if you don't recall. Just wanted you to know we've got antibiotics on parr with the ones you supplied, and we've tested a few alternatives. You should be all set."

Looking back up, John meets her... helmet. Wherever her eyes might be. "Really good of you to offer help. I can't imagine the jump being easy on anyone."

Fortunately for John, there's a dim backlit glow where Tali's eyes are: this gives anyone talking to her a good indication of where she's looking.

She nods, taking in the information that he's giving her to file away for later. Her shoulders relax just a little as he speaks.

"I have to say, that's quite a relief. The reserves that I have will get me through a minor infection, but if I do contract something more serious..." Well, death wasn't all that unfamiliar to anyone who'd lived in the Migrant Fleet. Her own mother had died that way.

"No. I can only imagine what it must be like for anyone who isn't used to a space station in the first place, and that seems to be the majority of the population. It's -- unfortunate." Not only because they're likely to be ill-equipped if there's an emergency, either.