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ataraxionlogs2014-05-07 08:58 pm
ataraxites) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-05-07 08:58 pm
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- adam monroe,
- aidan waite,
- alex summers | au,
- angel,
- arya stark,
- athos,
- biggs darklighter,
- bran stark,
- bucky barnes,
- buffy summers,
- carolyn fry,
- cesare borgia,
- charles xavier,
- commander shepard,
- cora hale,
- daenerys targaryen,
- damian wayne (robin),
- derek hale,
- elizabeth of york,
- ellie,
- emma swan,
- eowyn,
- eric northman,
- fenris,
- fili,
- galadriel,
- graham humbert,
- hank mccoy,
- harry potter,
- ianto jones,
- ilde featherstonehaugh,
- isaac lahey,
- jack harkness,
- jaime lannister,
- jason "red hood" todd,
- john "reaper" grimm,
- john mitchell,
- kate bishop,
- lucrezia borgia,
- luke skywalker,
- marian hawke,
- merlin,
- ned | au,
- netherlands,
- nuala,
- odessa knutson,
- peeta mellark,
- peter parker,
- regina mills,
- remus lupin,
- rikku | au,
- robb stark,
- robin hood,
- sally malik,
- scott mccall,
- severus snape,
- sirius black,
- skye,
- spike,
- stiles stilinski,
- taylor "tyke" kee,
- teresa agnes,
- thomas,
- thor odinson,
- tiffany aching,
- tony stark,
- wendy beauchamp,
- will graham
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.
----------------
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.
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.
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.
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.
no subject
A body, huh?
[ Well, golly gee, she certainly makes this whole operation sound real damn tempting. Needs to work on that sales pitch, then again it's dumbasses like him that get their dicks twitching over words like that. Maybe everyone in the service is just wired wrong. Nothing should sound so good as giving up body and soul for a greater good, and shit tons of violence, but there's plenty of them. ]
Looks like you've found yourself another one. Staff Sergeant John Grimm.
[ He rearranges the rifle pressed at his side and extends his gloved hand out amiably. ]
no subject
If anyone's going to die in the ship, she'd rather they weren't surprised by it.]
Lieutenant Commander Lydia Shepard. [Don't use her first name, Grimm. It'll be weird for everyone.] Did they give you ammo for that thing?
no subject
Pulling his rifle up from the ground, he pulls out the magazine and places it back with a hard slap. ]
About half a clip. So, stuck on a giant hunk of metal with no real destination, where's a guy to get more ammo? They even have those kind of resources here?
no subject
You're firing bullets. [It's not as novel as it used to be - most firearms here seem to.] If you're lucky, you might be shooting the same caliber as something they've got in the armory. Otherwise, I'd ask the comm. Someone might have a box rattling around they'd be willing to trade you.
[Or give. There's a few passengers that are shockingly kind-hearted.]
no subject
An armory? They give us access to the armory?
[ He looks as confused as he sounds. ]
Lot of freedom to give your captives...
no subject
We've also got access to at least one engineering deck, a flight deck and the life support systems. [Shepard snorts, nose wrinkling. She clearly doesn't think much about most of those.] But don't get too excited. I don't know what you've heard, but I'd be surprised if whoever or whatever's keeping us here is really doing it on purpose. It's either a screwed up AI acting on old programming it doesn't understand or it's a crew that's got a pretty severe case of cabin fever.