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

[Surprise flashes across Galadriel's face. That anyone- let alone a young girl, however competent she may seem, could possess dragons and not be fried to a cinder is still a shock to her. Not as much as when she first arrived, since she had met Morgana's companion, Aithusa. But it's still startling enough to get a brief reaction.]

If they are aboard, I have no knowledge of it. And I assure you, a dragon would gain my attention swiftly.

A dragon would gain the attention of most, I believe.

[ She says it with sweet understanding, humor in the way her eyebrows draw together and arch. She restrains a smile, though it falls easily as her eyes scan the medical bay once more. ]

They have no place here, and neither have I.

True enough. [She manages a strained smile] Though perhaps not for the same reasons.

[She does not elaborate, instead turning toward the med bay, her gaze following Danaery's.]

This is not the place of any of us. Yet we are here, whether we wish it or no. Until we manage to discover the means to undo what has been done, we must make the best of things.

And what, pray tell, does the best of things entail when one has climbed from a prison of glass and steel?

[ daenerys turns sharp eyes on galadriel, scrutinizing her. she does not yet have even this woman's name, and yet she comes to her as an advisor. dany has never been one to turn down the advice of those with experience, and she will listen to those who would counsel her well, but it is an interesting move all the same. ]

[Dany can assess as she wishes; it doesn't bother Galadriel in the least. She continues to stand straight and tall- the bearing of someone long accustomed public scrutiny.]

Survival, at minimum; here, it is not always as simple a task as one might think. At best- learning more of this place and those who have found themselves here, biding one's time until more may be done.

[ biding one's time. what a bitter, loaded phrase. all she has done is bide her time; waiting for her brother to make a move, waiting for drogo to carry his bloodriders across the narrow sea, waiting for her dragons to grow strong and able, waiting for the people of meereen to be able to rule themselves.

she has grown weary of waiting, but it seems to have no end. ]

I'm adept at all of these, so the best I shall make. [ she glances around, distracted by her thoughts. this woman would know if her dragons are here, so she claims, but dany seeks them herself regardless. ] What is your name?

[Waiting is a slightly different experience for elves- what is a week, a month, even a year or two when eternity stretches out before you? One learns to patient.]

I have several. [Which isn't as beside the point as it sounds; even here, she goes by more than one.] Most, however, know me as Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien. [She gives a little dip of her head.] And you?

Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.

[ and since galadriel is offering her title; ] Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea and Queen of the Andals and the First Men. [ she gives a very calculated nod. ]

Well met, then, though I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.

They're made more pleasant by your acquaintance.

[ daenerys offers a smile and inclines her head deferentially. ]

[And she receives a slight smile in return] Mildly so, perhaps. There is little that can make an abduction truly pleasant. Still, I thank you for the kindness.

thirty-first jump;

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