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

You're not gonna like the answer.

[ that's all he gets for fair warning, as it happens, because she shakes her head as she drops her chin. ]

Nine months.

[ While it's a relief to know that his son won't have missed him for however long he remains separated from him, it's intensely upsetting to imagine enduring that length of time on this vessel. Time will pass normally here, evidently, and somehow, he'll have to manage through the pain of not being with his son.

Regina is here, though nothing is the same between them, but he's slightly more optimistic in that regard, and that's his one blessing in this. ]

And you've managed to stave off madness somehow.

[ He's kidding. Mostly.

It's his attempt to mask how unsettling that prospect is. ]

I'm used to being alone.

[ There are near two-hundred people sharing the locker room with them, but Emma has never been more honest than she is in that moment. No matter how many of them there are -- how many of them she knows, or is related to, or connects with on some level, that's how she feels here. Alone.

These nine months have reminded her in crippling ways of what her life was like before Storybrooke -- in some ways, she's forced herself to regress to the person she was then in order to deal with it. She shuts people out. She doesn't try to connect. She keeps busy and she keeps to herself. ]

Spend enough time that way, and you get used to it. [ She nods like she's trying to use that as some reassurance. ]

[ Robin can't quite relate to that, as he's been surrounded by people for much of his life, and he knows he'd go mad if left alone too long. There's still much that he doesn't know about Emma, though he's at least gathered that she never really had a family growing up, and he wonders if being alone is something she'll always prefer because it's familiar, or if she longs for what she's never had. Those are questions far too impertinent to ask when they don't know each other very well, though given their close quarters here, perhaps she'll trust him enough to speak of it a little more.

It's promising that she's mentioning it at all right now. ]

That's true of many things, certainly.

In the nine months you've spent here, though, you haven't yet allowed yourself to form attachments?

[ His query is posed gently, not wanting to imply that he's judging her, simply trying to gather what he can about the situation. ]

[ emma's eyes flash.

she thinks of sark, taunting her with her own memories, the superiority he'd shown in being able to read and understand her at all. thinks of will, and the comfortable silences as they walked, of the way he'd become the instinctive direction her head would turn when she was uncertain.

she thinks of jax, the only person she consistently checks in with after the jumps. she thinks of charles, and the knowing smiles that she hates because he can't help himself and she doesn't blame him for it, and raven, and how looking at her felt all too much like staring into a mirror (even when she wasn't stealing emma's identity).

she thinks of hook, and her eyes drop. she clears her throat before answering plainly. ]

No.

[ her eyes lift back to meet robin's and she inhales deeply, eager to surge forward and leave that subject far behind her. ]

It's easier if you don't. [ she pulls at her lips. ] Look, uh, I've gotta—I work security, so there's something I've gotta check on. Give me a call if you need help with anything, all right?

[ It's immediately obvious to him that he's said something wrong, or perhaps simply overstepped a boundary. She guards her heart carefully, somewhat like Regina, though he senses it's going to be difficult to be accepted as more than just a superficial acquaintance to Emma.

He's not averse to being bold when necessary, but Robin knows he must abide her wishes, so he nods, the slightest smile on his face.

This isn't over, though. ]

I'll be certain to do that, and I imagine our paths will cross again soon, Emma. Do take care in the meantime.

thirty-first jump;

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