( you wake up, alone in the dark. )
CHARACTERS: EVERYONE.
LOCATION: The Medbay, the Locker Room, the Passenger Quarters. Pick your poison.
WARNINGS: I didn't write this. The wonderful wonderment that are the mods did. I'm only borrowing so we can get this party started.
SUMMARY: You wake up. Now choose your own adventure. (Start a new thread, tag someone else's. Whatever, people. Have at it.)
You wake up, alone in the dark. 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, empty medical bay.
Don't worry. The disorientation usually wears off in less than thirty-six hours.
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. The rest is up to you.
LOCATION: The Medbay, the Locker Room, the Passenger Quarters. Pick your poison.
WARNINGS: I didn't write this. The wonderful wonderment that are the mods did. I'm only borrowing so we can get this party started.
SUMMARY: You wake up. Now choose your own adventure. (Start a new thread, tag someone else's. Whatever, people. Have at it.)
You wake up, alone in the dark. 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, empty medical bay.
Don't worry. The disorientation usually wears off in less than thirty-six hours.
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. The rest is up to you.