[He doesn't take to it at first. He doesn't actually think this is anyone's fault, his slow acceptance of the situation, it's just that it's all very sudden and very new. He's working late, when he's taken, you see. The lights of the lab had been bright while he finished up labeling his blood samples and the new samples of influenza. Sometimes they flicker, as they had done before he was taken, because the lab is old and the generator even older. The noise, though, is new. This soft, pitched whine like an engine in the distance and then the lab is gone. He manifests to puzzled looking men in lab coats, but where he is is certainly no laboratory. The men with guns are a dead give away, as is the slightly bedraggled appearance of everyone who starts to approach him.
Needless to say, he has a minor freak out.
At first, he's certain he is hallucinating. That all the weeks running on three hours of sleep a night have finally caught up to him and this is the result. It isn't. Next, he wonders if he's fallen asleep at his desk. He hasn't.
The truth is a tough pill to swallow. Time travel is one thing, but cross-dimensional time travel is so off the wall bananas that Jay spends a lot of time sitting down, looking vaguely grey and feeling ill.
It takes a couple of days for him to get over it and convince himself moping about it will get him nowhere. The positives start to align up. First, he reminds himself that he has crossed off one impossible bucket list dream: time travel. Second, he enthuses himself about working with the people responsible for said impossible dream. Eventually it becomes easy to just act into it. On day three, he reasons that if he doesn't start making friends, it's going to be a lonely road back home.
And so, at breakfast, the day after Dr. Jones announces an actual real life time travel mission, he slides right beside you and says, after taking one big bite of an apple: ] You think you'll volunteer for it? [He's sort of on the fence about it himself. ]
ii. explore surroundings
[The downside to all of this -- as opposed to being trapped in a future that is not strictly his own -- is that while the cots are sort of big and relatively comfy for a military based operation, they are not private rooms. Jay hasn't shared a room since his last girlfriend, and certainly has never shared one with more than three people at the most.
It's a lot to get used to, hearing other people breathe at night. Listening to them toss and turn. Listen to them come and go in the dead of night.
So, really, his three hour a night sleep record does not actually improve. If anything, it stays the same and feels actually worse. But he supposes it's a good bonding experience? Maybe? At least, if he has to share a room with a group of people, he figures it's best to know them on a surface level. So about as smoothly as his smooth apple operation on day three, he asks casually, while making his bed: ] Hey, do you have Power Rangers were you're from? [Good neutral territory, is Power Rangers. ]
jayesh dara | original character
[He doesn't take to it at first. He doesn't actually think this is anyone's fault, his slow acceptance of the situation, it's just that it's all very sudden and very new. He's working late, when he's taken, you see. The lights of the lab had been bright while he finished up labeling his blood samples and the new samples of influenza. Sometimes they flicker, as they had done before he was taken, because the lab is old and the generator even older. The noise, though, is new. This soft, pitched whine like an engine in the distance and then the lab is gone. He manifests to puzzled looking men in lab coats, but where he is is certainly no laboratory. The men with guns are a dead give away, as is the slightly bedraggled appearance of everyone who starts to approach him.
Needless to say, he has a minor freak out.
At first, he's certain he is hallucinating. That all the weeks running on three hours of sleep a night have finally caught up to him and this is the result. It isn't. Next, he wonders if he's fallen asleep at his desk. He hasn't.
The truth is a tough pill to swallow. Time travel is one thing, but cross-dimensional time travel is so off the wall bananas that Jay spends a lot of time sitting down, looking vaguely grey and feeling ill.
It takes a couple of days for him to get over it and convince himself moping about it will get him nowhere. The positives start to align up. First, he reminds himself that he has crossed off one impossible bucket list dream: time travel. Second, he enthuses himself about working with the people responsible for said impossible dream. Eventually it becomes easy to just act into it. On day three, he reasons that if he doesn't start making friends, it's going to be a lonely road back home.
And so, at breakfast, the day after Dr. Jones announces an actual real life time travel mission, he slides right beside you and says, after taking one big bite of an apple: ] You think you'll volunteer for it? [He's sort of on the fence about it himself. ]
ii. explore surroundings
[The downside to all of this -- as opposed to being trapped in a future that is not strictly his own -- is that while the cots are sort of big and relatively comfy for a military based operation, they are not private rooms. Jay hasn't shared a room since his last girlfriend, and certainly has never shared one with more than three people at the most.
It's a lot to get used to, hearing other people breathe at night. Listening to them toss and turn. Listen to them come and go in the dead of night.
So, really, his three hour a night sleep record does not actually improve. If anything, it stays the same and feels actually worse. But he supposes it's a good bonding experience? Maybe? At least, if he has to share a room with a group of people, he figures it's best to know them on a surface level. So about as smoothly as his smooth apple operation on day three, he asks casually, while making his bed: ] Hey, do you have Power Rangers were you're from? [Good neutral territory, is Power Rangers. ]
iii. mystery box
[whatever u wanna do. ]