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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
[ The answer's pointed, though he doesn't drop the cuffs, transferring them to one hand before letting it drop to his side. His attempt at offering easy conversation doesn't do much to hide the way he's studying the man. Not his features— the way he holds himself, the familiar deceptive calm of it. There's a pause while Peeta realizes he was being watched and hadn't noticed, but he maintains the casual tone when he continues. ]
How long have you been here?
[ Why doesn't he recognize him, in so many words. Or should he, rather— Peeta's memories are having a hard time keeping up, and he's already failed to pick up on one familiar face. ]
no subject
At the question, though, his gaze drops to his right forearm. The number itself may be covered by jumpsuit sleeve, as is the opposite metal arm (although only to the wrist), but the gesture does as much for him as the sight of it. 025 » 132. Hill's had started with 31. ]
Six jumps.
[ But he doesn't miss the different lilt to the question. Maybe he's projecting. (Maybe. There didn't used to be much to project.) Still, he adds, ]
Pretty sure we haven't talked before. Is that what you were wondering?
back from hiatus finally!!
[ If this was the first conversation he was having after the jump, odds are he'd be more defensive. But he's had enough time to come around to the fact that it's the same as being back at camp— regardless of how frustrating it is, having to admit he doesn't know what's going on and having to take someone else's word for granted, it's easier. He'll take solid footing where he can get it.
Peeta follows the glance towards the other man's arm, and the glint of light on the metal of his hand is a temporary distraction. His first thought is that it's familiar: different materials, sure, but advanced. There's an aesthetic to it that reminds him of the Capitol, and his voice is entirely casual when he asks: ]
Did you get that here?