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ataraxionlogs2014-09-08 12:00 am
ataraxites) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-09-08 12:00 am
Entry tags:
- !jump,
- aaron doral,
- alex summers | au,
- alison hendrix,
- arya stark,
- benny lafitte,
- caprica six,
- captain hook (killian jones),
- caroline forbes,
- castiel,
- charles xavier,
- cora hale,
- death (discworld),
- derek hale,
- elizabeth of york,
- erik lehnsherr,
- fenris,
- firo prochainezo,
- gwen stacy,
- harry osborn,
- helena,
- ichabod crane,
- ilde knox,
- ivan,
- james 'bucky' barnes,
- james vega,
- jean grey,
- jennifer keller,
- josias st. john,
- katniss everdeen,
- kieren walker,
- lily potter,
- milagros gallo,
- peeta mellark,
- raven reyes,
- remus lupin,
- robin hood,
- sally malik,
- simon monroe,
- simon tam,
- taylor "tyke" kee,
- the warden (samara amell),
- zoe washburne
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.
----------------
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: 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.
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
[Literal skeleton is always literal.]
I WILL LET THOSE WHO KNOW MORE ABOUT TECHNOLOGY EXPLAIN WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT THE SHIP TO YOU THEN.
no subject
Zombies. How do they work, exactly? And how dead are they, technically, if they're able to get up and walk about.
[ Just going to roll with it. Regret may or may not happen later. ]
no subject
I HAVE SEEN A FEW DIFFERENT TYPES SINCE I WAS TAKEN FROM MY WORLD. HOWEVER THE ONES ON THE DISCWORLD ARE VARIED. IF SOMETHING DISRUPTS THE ...PROCESS, EXCESS LIFE MAY TAKE HOLD. BUT WILL SOON VANISH AFTER THINGS ARE SET STRAIGHT.
THE ONES THAT STICK AROUND ARE RATHER LIKE GHOSTS. EVERY SO OFTEN THEY JUST HAPPEN. AND THEY GENERALLY PREFER THE TERM UN-DEAD. I BELIEVE A REG SHOE IN ANKH-MORPORK HAD A GUIDE MADE UP ABOUT IT, BUT I DON'T HAVE A COPY WITH ME I'M AFRAID.
no subject
No, that's fine. I mean this is still very informative. [ Manners. He doesn't look any less bemused than he'd started out. ] I think Undead's the preferred term where I'm from, as well. Reg Shoe— is that a name?
no subject
ARE THERE OTHER TYPES OF UNDEAD IN YOUR WORLD?
no subject
[ It's all the same. One flimsy dose of medication missed, and he's right back to being rabid. ] Sorry, where did you say you were from, again?
no subject
no subject
It crosses his mind very briefly that the living don't like shaking hands with the undead, but then it also crosses his mind that Death is probably far more undead?? dead?? than he is, so. ]
I'm Kieren.
no subject
A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU KIEREN.