ataraxionlogs | thirty-first jump;

Entry tags:

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.

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Both of us at the same time? That must have sucked. Sorry.

[stiles keeps his gaze tucked low to the ground, more out of lacrosse practice instincts kicking in than deference for derek's privacy. he looks up when derek chucks the bag of candy at him (chucks, drops, whatever).]

What? Why do you have Halloween candy?

[he reaches into the bag and unwrapped a candy even as he asks, plopping it into his mouth with a pleased hum.]

Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault.

[ derek didn't like apologies to begin with, but he liked them less when they're offered for something beyond their control. the ship did whatever it wanted. there was no controlling it, and derek didn't see the point in doing anything beyond acknowledging that and moving. ]

It was in my locker. Along with the clothes I was wearing before.

[ he shrugs a shoulder, yanks his shirt down over his head. ]

I went home.

[ derek's calm is mostly forced. he still wasn't sure what was happening. he doesn't raise his hand to touch behind his ear, the mark the oni had left that still itched and burned. ]

[the words are so simple and innocent at first glance. 'i went home'. but as he chews, stiles' mind drifts back to halloween back in beacon hills and he...

chokes. a little on the candy before managing to swallow it down. halloween was the night that stiles started to really understand that something was wrong with him, the night he'd discovered that he had been the one to leave the message telling barrow to attack kira.

halloween was the night everything started spiraling downward.]

Oh... [he plays a little with one of the puppy's paws and fiercely doesn't look up, trying to force himself to sound more cheerful when he says;] And they let you take home a little souvenir, how nice of them.

Uh. Whoever 'them' is, I guess.

Don't eat that too fast.

[ which is more derek being gracious than calling stiles on the reaction. he's trying to pick and choose his battles, what he does and doesn't push at. derek's fingers stray to the mark on his neck, the faint itch and burn that isn't healing. he doesn't know if it will. ]

I remember the oni. [ there's a beat, then a shrug. ] I'm still behind. I don't remember the other things you talked about.

[ he's playing this off casually, when really derek's gut is knotted up in frustration and guilt, hating the idea of not knowing, of lagging behind yet again. ]

Got your super special 'self' scar, huh?

[stiles toys with a second piece of candy, rolling it in his fingers up high out of reach of curious puppies and keeping his tone as light as he can manage.]

Congratulations, you're yourself!

I'll pass on the celebration.

[ dryly, because this derek's least favorite part, trying to reconcile the sense that he hadn't seen stiles in months with the knowledge that he'd seen him just before the jump. it's disorienting. ]

It itches.

[ a complaint to cover up everything as derek takes his shoes out of the locker, sits down beside stiles to start putting them on. at least he's not as violently sick as he had been the past few jumps. it's a welcome relief. ]

[stiles unwrapped another candy and pops it into his mouth, chewing slowly. and just for derek's delicate sensibilities, he waits until he swallows to tell him:]

Yeah, well, join the club dude. The alternative is having your guts run through with a samurai sword so I think a little bit of itching is worth it, personally.

[he scratches idly at his own scar for a moment, voice distant when he speaks again.]

You're not still cold, are you?

I've been run through before.

[ though not with a samurai sword. derek eyes stiles curiously for a moment, very clearly deciding whether or not he wants to ask. derek's been run through by peter's claws and a steel pipe, and it probably isn't necessary to wonder where a samurai sword would fall on the spectrum. ]

Not right now. [ then, with some of the bite ebbing out of derek's tone-- ] Are you?

[stiles makes a face and stands one of the puppies up on its hind legs, waving its front paws in derek's direction in chastisement.]

All the more reason to avoid that shit happening again Derek, ohmygod.

[and then he raises an eyebrow at derek as the puppy he's holding up licks happily at his cheek and the underside of his chin. his hands are full, of course, but derek can feel free to imagine stiles is gesturing at the puppy pile in his lap.]

Warm and cozy and covered in puppies, big guy, no worries. The cold does go away eventually.

[ avoiding these things never really occurs to derek. he's sort of just accepted it all as inevitable, like of course he's going to be run through with a steel pipe, of course he's going to be impaled by peter's claws. this is just his life.

he pauses to study stiles for a minute, then nods, like he's made up his mind about something. ]

You should see if Tyke would let you babysit them more often.

[ co-opting tyke's puppies to ease whatever was up with stiles the way he had with isaac, it just makes sense to derek. stiles doesn't remember tyke, but it takes derek a minute to remember that, fallen into old habits momentarily, where stiles knew what derek knew. ]

[man, avoiding things is basically stiles' religion, except for when he flings himself head first into danger for the people he loves, of course. mostly he just likes to talk about it being his thing, and then do the exact opposite.

but. puppies! puppies are clearly the most important part of this conversation right now. puppies and the chance for more puppies, this can only be a good thing.]

And I would find this Tyke person... where exactly?

The Security offices.

[ casually, because that's more or less where she can be found if she isn't patrolling, or in her room. though derek is in her room sometimes, which is why he doesn't mention it, shrugs it off. ]

Or you can comm her. She'll answer.

[stiles laughs a little dismissively at the suggestion.]

And what, tell her that Derek told me I should cuddle some puppies for her?

Yes.

[ obviously. ]

Unless you can come up with something better.

[stiles does a little half shoulder shrug to avoid loosing his hold on the puppies and slants a smile at derek.]

Don't think she'd buy that I wanted to join security, huh?

Do you want to join Security?

[ not that derek's ever really considered joining a department. derek freeloads like a pro, keeps the mechanics of ship life at arm's length. but stiles had always been more involved than him. on more than one occasion, it had worked out well for him. ]

[stiles just sort of laughs, because is that actually a question derek.]

Who's gonna want me on a security team, Derek? Even ignoring [he makes a very strange hand gesture here that could literally mean anything] everything else, I'm not exactly built to intimidate, am I?

Stop flapping your hands around like that. You'd be fine on Security, if you wanted to be Security. There's more useless people than you patrolling.

[ what an encouraging comparison. ]

[just because derek told him not to, stiles waves his hand around some more. the puppies make some excited noises, so it looks as if they like it well enough.]

Oh wow Derek, that really makes me want to join now. You should be on recruitment posters.

Edited 2014-06-21 03:45 (UTC)

You're riling them up.

[ derek sounds amused, more at stiles comment than the idea of having to transport highly excitable puppies back to tyke's room. he sighs, sits down next to stiles on the bench. ]

You can do whatever you want. Just try not to get eaten.

[ dryly, as if scott would let anything eat stiles. as if derek would. ]

[stiles bemusedly lets one of the riled up puppies gnaw on a finger, tail wagging fast and hard as it vanquishes the flailing beast that had been stalking above its head. or something along those same lines, stiles assumes anyway.]

That's got to be the strangest motivation speech I've ever heard, Derek, and my dad once told me he'd be proud of me as long as I didn't get arrested again.

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thirty-first jump;

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