ataraxionlogs | thirty-fifth 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: You wake feeling cold and alone. There is a strange sense of emptiness, and the jump holds no surprises for you. There is nothing buffering the jump sickness and disorientation for you this month, and those still suffering the lingering effects of August's plot may find it more difficult than usual to get through the post-jump routine.

New arrivals will find messages spraypainted across their lockers telling them not to follow their tattoo numbers, and instead to find a room on Floors 001-010.

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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

[ Lily happens upon Kieren (presumably) after he's already gotten his contacts back but before he manages to make his way out of the area, making her usual rounds to check for anyone she knows newly-arrived. The sight of him stills her though, long enough that she decides she should check on him. He's in the new row of lockers, but he looks worse off than some of the people that were here all the past jump. She recognizes the look, a little, and it worries her.

He seems coherent and she approaches quietly. She doesn't look afraid, or bothered - concern is there, but it's gentle enough. ]

Are you all right? The first jump is often the hardest. [ She'll ask if he needs medical soon, but it's important to make the right approach. ]

[ Kieren just wants to get the damn cover-up on, mostly. He doesn't say that, of course, but he does startle slightly when she speaks, made edgy by the desire to get out of the room as soon as possible. He just isn't sure which way to go. The showers are the obvious choice for getting his face sorted — or they would be, if it weren't for the small crowd of people still trickling through.

Needless to say, it takes him a moment to register what she's said. Nerves aside, the concern's unmistakable, and it goes some way in settling his focus. ]

I'm fine. [ He answers on autopilot, only to think better of it a beat later. The fear hasn't totally gone from his voice, but it's heavily subdued by an almost flat, wry tone. ] Actually no, I'm not fine. What do you mean by first? Are there going to be more of these?

We have a medical crew if you do need it, there's always someone around. We all have, ah, different areas of expertise. [ Magic and science are pretty different, okay. She's not entirely convinced—and then he clarifies, so she nods slightly. She has her arms crossed over her chest but it's an easy stance, not self-protective, just. Tired and calm, really. ]

There seems to be generally about a month's time between each time we have to do the song and dance with the pods and the showers, but time is strange on board so it's hard to tell. It involves space travel, which I'm unfortunately still woefully unversed in. I've only been here a few jumps. [ Okay, that probably sounds a little crazy? But. That's all she has. ] That was so many words, I'm sorry.

No, I don't. Need a medical crew, I mean. But thank you. [ Not defensive, really, though it could probably qualify as stubborn. The thanks is genuine. Kieren casts a distracted glance towards the main exit, thoughtful, but his attention's fully on her when he looks back.

He has the small box and the mousse tucked under one arm, posture protective and a bit stiff. There's a deliberate effort to relax as he eases into the whole human interaction thing, but he never really shakes the awkward edge. ]

And that's fine, it's very helpful. [ Just kidding, he got like, half of that. He's at least heard the space spiel already, so he isn't completely lost. And he should maybe prioritize getting more information, or getting out of here, but after an uncertain pause: ] Where are you from?

[ Awkward she can deal with. It's probably clear that she's trying to ease his tension by being as disarming as possible, and even if it only helps a little it's something. She nods, again, not satisfied but with some attempt at understanding. ]

Cokeworth, originally. [ She says this at length, pushing some of her hair out of her face. There's a pause and then, almost as an afterthought she adds: ] My name's Lily Potter.

That's very pretty. [ Which might sound silly from anyone else. Awkwardness aside, it sounds like a genuine compliment coming from him. ] I'm Kieren. Kieren Walker.

[ He goes as if to offer a hand in greeting, then thinks better of it, awkwardly stalling out midway and drawing his hand back to his side. The cold hands make the living nervous. The people here are navigating around the elephant in the room very politely, so far, but habit's hard to kick. ]

And you've... you've been here long? On the ship? A few jumps, that's a few months, right?

Thank you. [ She means it, genuinely—when she smiles it's genuine too. ] It's nice to meet you, Kieren.

[ She deals with this awkwardness as smoothly as possible; she'd been reaching for his offered hand but manages to segue into shoving her thumbs into her pockets casually instead, maintaining the idea of an easy stance. ]

This is my fourth, to be exact. I think the idea is that it's meant to be a month per jump, but sometimes time plays out funny on board so it can be hard to keep track.

But still, four months. That's... [ A long time. And more medication than he has, which is something that occurs to him rather abruptly, prompting a quick glance back towards his locker and the kit hidden inside. ]

What if someone's got a condition? [ Said absently, and by the time he looks back to her he realizes that the condition in question is probably super obvious. May as well say he's asking on behalf of a friend, at this rate. ] Something that doesn't have a quick fix. Is that something the medical crew's usually able to help with?

[ This stills her a moment: she can see why he might be worried, but the idea that he's... coherent because of a medication had never really occurred to her.]

We can try, yes. Sometimes stock appears on its own, but failing that if there's a sample it's possible to make more of it so that supply doesn't become an issue.

thirty-fifth jump;

lockers!

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um sorry for the horrifying delay ilu U DON'T HAVE TO PICK UP AGAIN IF U DON'T WANNA