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

Once finished speaking with Capa, she's eager to head back to start to do a head count. She needed to know how many people were there and how many people were still around from the last time. That was all that mattered. Her device buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out, checking the messages.

Still with us?

She faintly smiled as she looked at it, raising an eyebrow. Good, he was still here. In her panic when Capa pulled her away, she'd forgotten to check on the few people she knew. She was glad he was okay.

She sent another text back.

Still here, amazingly. There's a lot of new arrivals this time.

Noticed that. You'll have to let us know if anyone you know turns up.

It was no small relief to, not only find a lack of an error message, but a return text moments later. He didn't think it was all that unlikely that, despite lacking Bones and members of the Icarus, someone else might find a familiar face in this mess. Jim wasn't necessarily worried about capacity, this ship was clearly able to support thousands of people--

but that was with a fully functional crew. On a ship that wasn't malfunctioning.

Think I got someone from home but I'm not sure. She's changed.

Kristeva. But she had been an android back home and now she was walking around with skin, bones, blood, and lungs. She knows that's not the first time this has happened but it's still...jarring. And she and Kristeva are on loosely good terms. Vincent and Pino are still on the Rabbit. The others... The others are still dead.

She frowns at her communicator for a moment, pushing back the guilt and the frustration.

Anyone from your home arrive?

Negative.

At least not yet, there were still some pods to open but Jim was fairly certain that at this point the odds were pretty fucking slim anyone was going to show up. If he was missing from his primary universe, he only had to hope that someone was keeping his baby running.

No. That's a shame. But then, who would ever want to subject their friends and loved ones to a place like this? (Even as she thinks this, her mind drifts to two others that she might want here, if only to know they're still alive.)

A good sign, I guess.

She keeps walking, back towards the group, as she types.

We've lost some people. Any of yours?

I heard about Corazon. I haven't spotted Thumos yet, either.

But they're the only two, so far, that he's noticed- or been told of at least. His gaze lifts, briefly, back into the room, offering up another sweep as though something might change- but it doesn't.

We'll need to rendezvous with the new information and compare it to the old once we get a little more settled.

Capa told me about Corazon too. I'm sorry if you knew her.

No one's left that Re-l's been too close to, and that's just luck on her part. And while she agrees that they need to check with the names and information before they do anything else, she finds there's something else bothering her. She hesitates for a long time before she finally types it out, hoping it's crossed his mind too.

Where could they have gone?

It's crossed his mind, too. As soon as he found out people had disappeared, it was the first thing he considered.

It's possible that they were pulled out the same way we were pulled in.

While they still think this stuff is up in the air, Jim is all but convinced that's what it is. Whether it was a malfunction of the ship or whether it was purposeful was all up to debate- but the logistics of arrival, especially with the second jump, all pointed to this.

Where they've physically gone, however... Well, even he couldn't begin to guess.