ataraxionlogs | thirty-first 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: There is something very easy about waking from the gravcouches this month. The sensation of being watched is absent, and so is much of the sickness - even for those characters who entered Engineering in February. Instead the jump feels comfortable, the stasis fluid warm on your skin, the medbay lights not too harsh as you emerge amongst your fellow passengers. The sensation may be unnerving in its strangeness, but there will be a deep feeling of being well-rested, calm and content, that will not be completely lost no matter how much you question it.

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You wake up in darkness.

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.

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. 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.

This is your welcome party.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ she's opening her mouth to argue back at his initial skepticism (it was a really big dog okay??), but then he's simulating the scratch with faux-clawed fingers and lecturing her - her what? her cover story? that's what it sounds like - and all she can do is listen with her mouth open slightly, all arguments lost somewhere in her throat as she realizes in a mix of horror and relief that he knows.

she finally closes her mouth, her brow knitting a little. give her a second to process both this turn of events and the wisdom he's imparting, her eyes on the healing scars as she simultaneously pictures a mountain lion's claws and mentally vows to avoid shorts like the plague.

then she exhales a laughed breath, looking up at stiles again. ]

I guess I'm gonna have to keep that in mind. [ with a definite underlying 'thanks'. ]

I mean, don't get me wrong.

[stiles takes his hand away from her thigh now, having proven his point and not wanting to push his luck really on the personal invasion side of things.]

Mountain lion is a better cover when you live near a preserve or the mountains. Somewhere you can actually expect to see a mountain lion. But people are willing to explain away some strange things with a nice, simple, wild animal attack.

[ he's being... really cool about this. it makes her wonder what exactly he knows, or who he knows. she doesn't think he's a wolf, he doesn't seem wolfy, but then again, neither does josh... still, that's not something she wants to ask right now. that'd be a super shitty way to thank him, prying into his business while he's busy being miserable about his buddy.

still though, even as cool as he's being, he's still got her a little more on-edge about the scars' visibility in this towel. it kind of makes her that much more aware that she really is sitting on the floor of a spaceship in nothing but a towel to talk werewolf with a stranger. noooot so ideal.

so she shifts her toes up under her so she's crouching instead of sitting, a sort of vague transitional gesture. ]

So I seriously need to shower, but I don't want to just bail on you here. [ she's not sure how big this ship is or whether or not she'll ever see him again if she does bail, which sucks because now she kind of wants to make sure he ends up feeling at least more okay than he does right now. ]

[stiles shakes his head, flashing her a fleeting smile. whether she had intended to or not, sally had managed to distract him a bit from this whole daphne mess.

he holds out his arm towards her so she can see the numbers tattooed there: 030 » 024.]

Name's Stiles. You can usually manage to track me down with these.

Edited 2014-05-10 20:48 (UTC)

Sally. [ She does the same: 031 » 127. ] I'm not gonna lie, I have no idea what these mean. Like, is that a phone number, or...?

Sort of. Your communicator can be used to communicate with the ship at large, or if you know someone's number you can contact just them that way.

Thirty twenty-four, [ she says, to commit it to memory. Then: ] I think I can remember that.

You'll do fine, it's even less numbers than an actual phone number.

[a wry look and he scratches the side of his neck as he adds;] Of course with cell phones these days nobody ever really bothers to remember those either do they?

thirty-first jump;

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