CAKEQUEST 2012

Some may have noticed the lack of a certain cacaphonic pink pony on board the ship as of late. It seems that Pinkie Pie had found herself being GLaDOS' newest test subject and, of course, with Pinkie being Pinkie, she performed every test and ran every maze with no complaint, because she had been promised cake at the end! In fact, it was likely that GLaDOS would get tired of her long before she grew tired of testing.

And that could very well be what happened, as Pinkie was finally dumped in a random spot in the city, possibly making a squeaky-toy noise as she landed.

"Oof! Ms. Test Lady! Do I get a cake now?" She asked the sky, and waited for an answer. When none came, her ears flopped. "She said there would be cake at the end!"

And technically grief-counseling as well, but Pinkie had only heard the cake part. She looked around and tried to figure out where she was, and what she was going to do now. She wasn't in the big maze anymore, but Ms. Test Lady hadn't given her cake yet. Clearly, that meant only one thing:

The test wasn't over yet.

You could practically see the lightbulb go on over Pinkie's head. Of course! This was just another part of the test! And by gosh, Pinkie was going to do her best! There was cake on the line, after all.

"All right, Ms. Test Lady, I accept your challenge! I'm gonna get that cake yet!"

Passersby may be wondering why she's talking to herself. Unless you know Pinkie and realize that this is business as usual. Or perhaps you aren't even in the city, you're just minding your own business somewhere else when suddenly PONY IN YOUR FACE, asking you if you've seen a delicious cake anywhere. She's not going to stop until she's solved this newest test.

She is on a quest.

A quest for cake.

[[OOC: COME JOIN PINKIE IN HER QUEST FOR CAKE. Anything can happen! In fact, it's likely that anything WILL happen because this Pinkie Pie we're talking about.]]

In Which the Overlord is No Longer Home [Open]

Right outside the gate device on the Obs Deck, quite inconveniently located for people with a tendency to trip over such things, lay a large tome.

On the front cover, a face sat rigidly immobile. Eyes shut, mouth frozen, it might as well have been simply drawn on for all that it showed no reactivity to the environment or external stimuli.

To those who know the Overlord, well, that book was indeed the Sacred Tome. But was it still Zetta? For all intents and purposes, the Overlord appeared to have checked out.

[Just the start of a little plot. Respondents are encouraged to thread in pairs, because the book won't be responding no matter what you do.]
monster_san: Craining neck back at the camera with wind sprites (Ow my neck)

(no subject)

Who: Fuu and OPEN
Where: The Chalk Drawings. Specifically the Thames.
Summary: Fuu stumbles into some pavement art.
Warnings: Cockney accents None!

Supercalifragilistic... )

Technical Difficulties

So she wasn't wearing her suit with the wig and mask right now. In a way, during the attack, she understood that maybe it just didn't matter as much anymore. Coincidentally, it was also when she was beat up the most. Even when she had faced that messed up Cain fucker after Sasami, she hadn't been as injured as this. Being thrown against a wall, shot a few times (thank you barrier jacket) and straining every part of her body to its max would pay a toll, and with everything being so wonky, the Overlord's healer hadn't gotten to her.

So here she was. In med bay. Barely conscious.

And she still needed a new cook, damn it!
cityship: (Stacy--True Stacy)
[personal profile] cityship2012-06-12 09:53 pm

Meet N' Greet

||Initiating Meet and Greet. Crew members, for the sake of morale, there will be periodic meetings on the Obs Deck so that newer members of the crew can be welcomed and so the crew can communicate with one another.||

Apparently, Stacy liked to throw a party now and again.

[ooc: Anyone may start new threads here]

Widow's Insight [Open, Cut for Spoilers]

The first thing that Natasha Romanoff - as she had allowed herself to be called in recent years - had done after she had popped out of a gooey pod (and subsequently gotten clothed, briefed on the situation at hand, and retrieved her weapons) was familiarize herself with the spaceship that she had found herself on. It had taken a long while - the size of the ship made the SHIELD Helicarrier seem akin to a SmartCar - but she’d scoured as much of the place as she could, because it was always useful to know one’s bearings.

Especially in a situation like this... )

Nuke it smarter, not harder [Open]

Outside the Sensorium, a large floating sign proclaimed in large text:

SENSORIUM IN USE. PRIMARY OCCUPANT: AIBGHALIEN MARSAI. PURPOSE: DEPLOYMENT OF SIMULATED AND GENUINE MAGIC. VISITORS WELCOME. CAUTION! NONSIMULATED MAGIC IN USE!

A helpful magic mouth also repeated these words verbally to those who drew close, a necessary sop to potential issues of translation (or literacy). Despite this ungainly addition tio the illusory sign, Aibghalien was pleased with his idea.

Such thoughts had fallen far to the back of his mind, however, as in the Sensorium he had created a fourfold simulated environment. One quadrant, which the door opened onto, consisted of his tower laboratory from his days as a regent, with tables of magical and alchemical apparatuses set up in various states of use or disarray. The next quarter clockwise was a battlefield, with two armies clashing in a seemingly perpetual state of conflict. Continuing around, in the third quadrant, a group of orogs shuffled aimlessly around a dungeon hallway in exactly the manner one would assume orogs would shuffle about while waiting for adventurers to burst in on them in their otherwise empty and joyless 20x20 dungeon room. Finally, in the fourth quadrant stood Aibghalien, dispassionately deploy a mighty gout of fire from his hands into a swarming mass of Kessek.

“Pause,” he said out loud – not necessary, but Aibghalien found it helpful to set deliberate barriers between his general mental thought processes and the commands he intended to give the sensorium. The image froze in the midst of the fire impacting the Kessek armor. Nodding to himself, Aibghalien stepped forward to examine the intersection of attack and defense, analyzing the impact with the intent of improving it.

Practice [forward-dated to just after Rebellion]

Chance had heard some things about the AIs in Stacy's brain, but this was the first time he had been exposed to what Glados actually did to people. Upon being released, Chance found out that he had missed the whole rebellion thing so he was recovering by booting up the sensoriums shooting monsters in a junkyard.

"Man. Too easy. I should up the difficulty..." Torque muttered as he shot monster after monster.
meat_mooks: (Meanwhile...)
[personal profile] meat_mooks2012-06-06 08:04 pm

Brought Down to "Normal?" [Endplot, backdated to before Rebellion]

The crew that returned from Hendersus Villae following their rescue mission was not the same crew that had been sent there in the first place.

Well, they were. They just wouldn't look like they were for a few more hours.

Goliath, Kang, Rainbow Dash, and Crematia were all still stuck as humans, and the reassurance they'd gotten from Zarom Ghartha that their transformation would expire in roughly one day's time was surely enough to allay some of their lingering discomfort with finding themselves still in the wrong bodies, but unfortunately, no amount of reassurance could completely relieve their situation of awkwardness.

Awkward or not, though, they all needed rest and medical attention, so there was no hiding out while the curse wore off. Not unless they wanted to spend the next 12 hours still hungry, tired, and injured to various degrees.

[ooc: setting up subthreads for individual character reactions is a-go!]

A typical Doctor Who companion injury [open, post-rebellion]

Of all things, Ian hadn't been expected to be bested by a tree. That it was a tree that moved without the wind should have given him a clue, but, well, it was a tree. He'd got too close, it got a good hit in, he'd landed awkwardly and now he couldn't walk.

It was only his ankle and, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, he'd intended to just hobble home. Except that it did really hurt. So halfway there he found the nearest teleport and ended up in the medbay.
makeherblue: (009)

Almost good to go [Post-rebellion] [Open]

The surprising thing about Stacy was the Doctor hadn’t thought she couldn’t be more beautiful, in all her (sometimes) slimy, brilliant glory.

Then he saw her true face, right before she fought back with the rest of the crew.

Ah. So maybe he can be wrong from time to time, the Doctor finding that life on Stacy with the rebellion was easier in that you weren’t stumbling over Daligig or Kessek giving their impressive glowers, as if it was difficult not to just step on you and be done with (well, that and trying to avoid them when they decided enough was enough and it was far too long since they’d shot anything)…and then there was the clean-up. Considering how hard the Daligig had fought back, the Doctor had to say he expected far more casualties than Stacy’s crew had and this was probably the part where that voice in the back of his head bothering him with all sorts of things like niggling feelings.

It was probably telling him all sorts of annoyingly logical things, like in the end they probably should have been spacedust. He told it to shush.

The Doctor threw himself into trying to fix the TARDIS now that he had a second wind of sorts. With Stacy being twice as beautiful as before, the work was coming along much faster than before, now that she wasn’t resisting him. In fact, he’d go so far that she’d even given him advice – not that he’d be ready to admit to his companions that yes, the Doctor could at times need jiggery-pokery tips from a ship. At this rate, he thought he could actually tell Jamie, Barbara, Ian, Victoria and all his other friends a proper when instead of hedging around it and sending them on errands to get parts he didn’t even need. The Doctor roamed the halls of Stacy, sometimes in the hanger, sometimes rummaging about the City, picking his way through the damage and looking for anything that could stand in for an influx injector (or a toaster. A toaster would actually be better than a standard-issue injector!).

So yes. Right! The Doctor was in need of a toaster/influx injector. He just may temporarily kidnap anyone – or anything – he thought might be useful on that front.

[The Doctor will have met your character and kidnapped them for this. This is basically for characters okay with having somewhat short-term CR with Eleven (probably a few months OOCly?) and continuing CR )]
googledox: (154)
[personal profile] googledox2012-06-04 01:39 am

Action Is the Antidote to Despair [massively bendytimed before Rebellion]

Despair was a funny thing sometimes, in that it could be all-encompassing, overwhelming. It could fill your entire being like water dripping down into the grooves and craters of a pockmarked surface, creating a flat uniform plane of itself.

He hadn't quite felt this way at first. First, he'd just been numb. He'd been numb when he'd tried to give Jeka his flight ring and she refused and as Jeka had been taken away to the pods for healing after what his mother had done to her. He'd been numb as he was given medical treatment and turned away all visitors, including Brenda. He'd been numb when facing the Council and demanding he be imprisoned for what he'd done to Daniel and Punchy and the others. He'd been numb in their face of their compassion and insistence that he didn't need to be locked up, that probation and psychiatric treatment and monitoring were enough in light of his guilt and his treatment of his mother.

When he heard the news that Punchy had died before he had the chance to thank him for trying to save him, for talking him down out of despair at the lowest moment of his entire life, that was ironically when the despair came back full force. It felt terrible.

It also felt good to feel, to not be like his mother. That was the fine line between them, thin as the edge of a knife but a difference that, like the edge of a knife, cut down deep to the bone. His mother wouldn't have shed a tear over the death of Matthew O'Connor, but curled up in his cot in the Brig, Querl Dox wept wretchedly over the passing of the most ridiculously-named superhero he'd ever known.

The Time We Lost [open, post-rebellion]

Podded and popped again? Billy was less than enthusiastic, especially considering the circumstances. He'd been podded to hinder the engineers---of that, he was certain. He hadn't tried nearly hard enough to affirm his loyalty to the Daligig. Billy would really have to work on his ability to lie.
And his ability to not immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion. )

You have to eat sometime. [Open, During Rebellion.]

It takes some nerve to stop in the middle of a battle and think, "I'm hungry. I wonder which side is controlling the mess hall at the moment?" and decide that it's worth the risk to go find out. That's exactly what happened here and - fortunately - at the time Clef went to check, the Mess Hall was in fact a neutral zone. Which is to say that no one had thought it strategically important because the food was that bad.

Well, now it was being occupied by the crew. That is, by Clef. Who was sitting at one of the few still-upright tables and eating some grey mush like it was just a normal day. Occasionally some fighters on either side would run through and occasionally pause to go what the fuck? at him, but since nobody had pointed a gun at him yet he so far considered Mission: Get Some Lunch a success. Contrary to all appearances, however, he was quite ready in the event that circumstances should change.

[ooc: Put up a post so there could be multiple threads. Feel free to have a fighty thread in here! I think that would be awesome.
forging_on: (trust me I'm an expert!)
[personal profile] forging_on2012-06-03 04:43 pm

Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood. - future-dated to post Rebellion

Who: Presea & OPEN
Where: the City, especially in/around Hiccup's forge
Summary: [Future-dated to post-Rebellion.] After the fight was over, it was time to regroup, and to take care of the weaponry that kept you alive. Presea's headed to the City to meet Hiccup and talk to anyone else whom she might encounter on her way.
Warnings: none

Heat is required to forge anything. )
grimbiker: (Now I'm drunk enough)
[personal profile] grimbiker2012-05-31 01:48 am

A good old fashioned bar fight

[[OOC: Please read this post first.]]

Lately, most of Sirius’s days had ended the same way. Today was no exception. After roaming the City and taking down notes, he went to The Drunken Dragon to get plastered. It had worked well for him so far, at least in his opinion. He was even getting used to the drinks.

Sirius didn’t socialize very much. Oh, he talked to Kang and Nima some but usually he sat and drank in silence. To anyone who knew him, that would have been a red flag. The second red flag was his motorcycle, sitting largely unused in the Hangar. As for the third, that would come shortly.

Sirius, however, was oblivious to the impending destruction he was about to wreak. He sat at the bar. It would be nice to say that he was quietly nursing his drink. It would be more accurate to say he was downing it as quickly as possible.

Sometimes you lose too much [Open]

Something about the river kept drawing Morgan back.

Which was odd, since he'd never considered himself to have any particular affinity to water before coming to the ship. Sure, he'd trained in it, and enjoyed swimming, but he hadn't considered his pool or a beach to be any sort of 'quiet spot' or meditative spot for himself. Then again, lacking access to his mentor's dojo, or his own personal retreats of choice, maybe he shouldn't be so surprised that he'd found a new one.

Work kept him busy, with Medical low on staff and so much to do from the rebellion. Fake as it might be, he still found himself putting in long hours and lots of effort to keep things going.

Still, sometimes... especially when you got the worst of news, you had to take a break. And you couldn't be strong forever.

Morgan sat at the edge of the river, staring into the currents, and let himself quietly cry.

Losing Them In Pieces [Open]

Who: Jamie and open!
Where: The Brig, unless someone drags him out from it.
Summary: A reaction to Billy's repodding and Zetta's subsequent announcement.
Warnings: General unhappiness warnings. Possibly a bit of sulking and a reluctance to do things.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go )

Task force [Open] Sign ups bendy timed before fauxbellion

Once the call had gone out after his initial announcement 'Vadum had set himself to assessing the current stock of weapons, armour and vehicles available to them. They had access to the GIA armoury so they had little shortage of the plasma weapons they utilized, he had managed to procure a number of crates of assorted weapons, now currently stored in the Quarter.

That done, he'd made his way to one of the many sensoriums, the simulation of a fairly typical human constructed base and training field off to one side, including a firing range for those who needed to test their aim, an obstacle course for those who wished to test their agility as well as many other such structures that could be utilized to test the abilities of those who wished to sign on. The whole installation ringed by a clearing which then expanded out into forested hills. Filling a measure of this clearing to one side sat a number of vehicles of all sorts from those familiar to the Sangheili commander to others he had only observed in passing.

Off to one side near the firing range a table arrayed with all manner of weapons, both ranged and close combat weapons sat waiting to be test and used on the range. It was here that the Sangheili Commander waited.

------------------------

[OOC: Sorry to everyone for the lateness of this, have been eaten up by Uni lately, nearly to the end of semester though, so I should have time very soon.

As to the workings of this, I'll have two main those wishing to play through the sign up process are welcome to, characters in the infantry regiment can have either 'Vadum or Roger Maxson for their sign up. Those who don't wish to play out the process are more than welcome to hand-wave it.

The second subthread will be primarly a mingling part for those who wish it. Squad listings can be found here.

The third subthread will be a non-bendytimed training thread for those who wish it.]