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Snippet #1955465

located in The Rud'bul System, a part of For a Fistful of Creds, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Rud'bul System

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Character Portrait: Jensen Gables
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Statistics released by the Commonwealth in a recent medical study said that 94 percent of people dreamed in Gap-sleep. These people were the ones that had the easiest time in transit; they had the privilege of thinking they were doing something else.

6 percent of people, however, didn't.

Jensen Gables was one of those people. The sensation of entering Gap-sleep without the ability to dream was like that of being put under heavy anesthesia and then sunk into a pool of half-molten blue gelatin. Although the amount of time you spent Under tended to vary wildly, the average was anywhere between three and four hours, and while that may not seem like it lasts too long to someone on the outside of the tube, someone deep inside of it has a different experience. Jensen had heard stories of people going insane inside the tubes while staring off into the infinite blackness of their own unconscious mind, breathing oxygen-infused gel but never quite shaking the sensation that they were constantly drowning. They would wake up and immediately go batshit crazy; slashing their wrists open or assaulting crewmates they'd flown with for months, years, decades.

Luckily, Jensen hadn't ever had that experience. However, that still didn't mean he liked Gap-sleep. He found it difficult to go under; although it was slightly easier every time. But that didn't mean that the Gap tanks didn't bring a low, bubbling sense of fear deep in his guts. Oh, no, they did. They did every damn time.

Hence the overwhelming sense of relief he felt whenever the drowning sensation began to wear off; when the blackness started to recede and the hiss of the pressure locks introduced the semi-stale recycled air of the Gryphon into his tank.

Jensen blinked a few times as the top of his can popped. He immediately began to pull sensors off his body and climb out, dripping with excess gel as he hacked up what felt like both of his lungs and his stomach, but was really just the excess gel. The taste of unflavored gelatin combined with the bitter tang of chemicals filled his mouth as his senses returned one by one. He sluggishly tapped his upper arm, a green light indicating that the chem reserves were adequate, and within seconds a rush of energy hit his body as he awakened fully, the drug cocktail chasing the last traces of Gap-sleep out of his system. He wrapped the towel slowly around his waist after he wiped the excess away from his body, and immediately hit the showers.

It was times like these; on the short-but-still-overlong walk from the Gap-tank suite to the locker room, where the navigator was happy for the ship's former purpose as a luxury yacht. It was maneuverable for a ship its size; but still too big to shift fast enough for his tastes; it was well armed for a ship its class, but Jensen thought the guns were a bit light; the cargo bay was fairly spacious, but it was always just a little too small to him. It had many quirks, flaws and foibles, yes.

But damn if he wasn't happy for heated floors and air conditioning. He quickly cleaned himself up and pulled on his favorite jumpsuit, and made his way out to the command deck. As he stepped inside, he noted the presence of two others--Michaline and Jager, the crew's 'early risers'. He settled into his navigation suite--just to the fore of the captain's chair, at the bowmost point of the deck--just in time to see Michaline finish taking apart her leg. The stump always made her wince to himself slightly, he'd heard the stories around it and that made him thankful that none of his limbs had been busted so severely. It reminded him not to get involved with criminals. Well, besides Jager. Because technically right now they were in violation of several inter-system laws and regulations, even if they were there before they were fully in place.

Michaline made a statement about her prosthesis, and from his station Jensen smiled easily. "Oh, c'mon, Mish," he said playfully, "you and I and Jager all know that stuff's heat-degradable." He turned fully away from his station, fiddling with the port on one wrist as he started to smile his all-to-familiar 'joke smile'.

"'sides, I'm sure if you just asked kindly Jager'd put up for whatever gambling debt you're hiding from us all." He let out a light laugh and extended his Icepick, jacking into the navigations console and running through the diagnostics process. One by one, the reports came back shiny and clean--the Nimble Gryphon knew exactly where it was going at the moment.

"All clear, skipper," Jensen said cheerily. "Welcome to Rud'bul."