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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.

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The advantage to having done this before was that there was less confusion, at least on his part. There was less panic, less blindly running about, less confused queries as to what was going on. It meant that he knew about the general state of nakedness and disorientation, and Clive found that he was now firmly of the opinion that he really didn't want to see the vast majority of his fellow castaways naked. And yet it would happen again and again.

An unexpected side effect, however, was knowing which...what was the phrase? Oh, yes. Grav couches. An unexpected side effect was knowing which ones were (generally speaking) filled when he got into his own and which ones were empty. And so it was when the previously empty one to his right unexpectedly deposited someone, Clive was surprised and yet...right, yes, they said this might happen.

"Oh, hello. I take it that you are new."

Lifting himself to a better standing position he rubbed at his shoulder. Why was that fall so hard? The floor was slick as well. His eyes however were still clearing, so he was blinking them over and over.

New? Was that person speaking to him? He shifted a hand to rub over his face, hand running over as if to hide the large jagged scar on his cheek, but then continued on to slick back his hair. Frowning about this situation he just nodded at first.

"Um... yeah. Guess so." He was new, but new to what? "Where... am I?" And how did he get here? Where was his gun? his clothing for that matter! Partial nakedness rather sucked when it came on as a surprise.

The gesture and the scar weren't missed, though he chose not to comment on it. They all had their secrets...and that was hardly the oddest physical adornment seen among the residents of the ship. (So far the troll was the clear winner in that regard, though...was that another one?) "I'm Clive Dove. I'm certain that someone who knows the..." There was a hesitation here: momentary, brief, smoothed over as almost as quickly as it came with a polite smile. "...details can give you a better explanation than I can, but you are aboard what I've been told is a spaceship called the Tranquility."

And here was another hesitation, though it was for different reasons. He looked over at the other man, again. "Do you need a hand? Or can you walk?"

The scar wasn't even that big of a deal, but he was still getting used to having it while being around people. Or, you know, being around people in general. That would take some getting used to too.

This was a kid though. A kid offering him some help, which was greatly needed. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to focus. He opened his mouth to speak again and coughed. The feeling like having a tube down his throat was the worst. Clearing his throat he frowned deeper.

"A ship, huh?" Figures. This didn't look like Red Army though. Was it Rebel? He righted himself better, shaking his head to clear his disorientation some. Could he walk. "Yeah, I can walk." He took a deep breath. "Know where my stuff is, Clive?" That was what the kid said his name was, right?

Name. Crap... he'd have to give one too, huh? Claudio was out of the question. He was being hunted after all. Give him a moment to find a name, okay kid? He'll stop being rude soo--or not.

Having gone under a false name up until recently he was in no position to pressure about names or the lack thereof.

Either way, he nodded sharply, and immediately regretted it as it reminded him about the disorientation side-effect. It wasn't pleasant the second time around. "There's a set of lockers nearby. Yours would be in 133, if I'm not mistaken." In the event that he got a curious glance or the stranger looked like he was about to ask what or why, Clive would indicate the tattoo on his shoulder.

Oh he got the curious glance, the raised brow and the frown of confusion all at once. The indicated tattoo however solved that. "133?" He repeated, reaching up to rub that. His eyes were getting clearer but he could read that fine.

"Where'd that come from?" Crap was he branded? Ghosting out of here was seeming more and more like a better idea. "Lockers?" so many questions that made him seem mildly dumb, hmm? he'd smarten up soon, but he was still confused.

"Why we were branded? I haven't heard a satisfactory explanation for that." And he looked at his own tattoo: 79. A completely meaningless number, which Clive supposed was a good thing...if they were all marked with deeply symbolic numbers it implied troubling things about their abductors. Back again at the stranger, who still had yet to give a name now that he thought about. Which made sense, Clive supposed, given the circumstances under which they were meeting: mainly naked and for all intents and purposes kidnapped and trapped in strange surroundings. "The vast majority of the people here are as ignorant as we are about what really is going on."

The lockers could wait for a moment.

None of this made sense, but then again life didn't make much sense lately. Everything on Heaven's Fence was messed up and nothing he knew was in the right order anymore. Kidnapped, branded and shuffled off to some ship? Sure, why not.

"So we all just... wake up here? Then what? How long have you been in here?" There had to be some form of answers to all of this, shouldn't there?

"So now what? We just wait around till our captors make themselves known?" Ah, he was still pretty sure this was a kidnapping, great. Getting a better view of things however helped. At least it wasn't him alone, but it still made him uncomfortable. As long as there were people with him however, he'd be alright.

"Oh no, hardly. The closest thing we have to captors have already made themselves known, and if you would believe it they supposedly know little more than we do." This was accompanied by a slightly wry smile and delivered in a tone of voice which was a paradoxical sort of insincere sincerity (or sincere insincerity depending on how you read it), a sort of implied 'well, they say they know little more than we do, but really...?'

"Well. We could stand about talking all day..." mostly naked "...but I suspect you'll want to find where your belongings are. The lockers are this way. Hopefully you'll have more luck than I did in that regard."

Hardly? Well hell, that didn't sound good. He gave the boy a tired look to the first half and just... nodded. Yeah, alright. That sets it. The first port of call or chance off this boat he will go invisible and slip away. Easy enough. Or so he hoped. Maybe he can steal a shuttle and get off that way. Either way, captors that have no idea what is going on isn't very helpful. "Sounds like a mess..."

The idea of finding the locker though was good. "What sort of luck did you have?" In otherwords, what are you saying? You couldn't find the locker, or your stuff in it? He wasn't even sure himself, but he would be grateful to get some real clothing. "You think my things are in this locker then?"

Clive shrugged, loose, vague, steering the two of them towards the suite of lockers where hopefully...just hopefully he'd find his belongings. "Well, the contents of the locker seem to vary wildly. One gentleman I met had, among other things, a parrot in his. Others have whole suits of clothing."

And here he paused, glancing back at his companion. "Myself? A box of matches and a deck of playing cards. I'm hoping this time around I'll at least have something more than that."

He moved along, rubbing at his neck or back, deciding he didn't feel as bad as he might have thought, you know, being dumped out on the floor suddenly and all.

A brow raised pretty high at the parrot thing. A whole bird? "Were they your matches and cards at least? What about clothing?"

And then he frowned. He's hoping something more will be there this time? "How many times have you gone through this?"

"Only once before. I don't intend on experiencing this more than necessary, I assure you." Though the best way of going about addressing that was something Clive had yet to decide upon...

He frowned, unconsciously mirroring the other. "Tell me," and here lay a pause where a name normally would lurk, but in lieu of having one readily available came silence, "What do you think of this entire situation? I understand that you've just arrived and are likely disoriented, but I'd like to hear your thoughts thus far."

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