Transmigration 9: Brave New Worlds
Pan-fandom, SciFi, and Screwed-Up
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12th-Jun-2012 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]
cityship: (Stacy--True Stacy)
8th-Jun-2012 01:49 pm - 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.
wizardsaregodtier: (i got a book)
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. )
morphitudinous: (Seriously oozing)
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.
bequiet_hescreamed: Drinkin' tea, hurr a durr~ (candid photography: it can happen to YOU)
31st-May-2012 03:46 pm - Of Good Intentions and Mechanical Men
[This is backdated to shortly after the Fauxbellion, and ties into this channel post.]

[Hidden Valley Bunker - Dummy Entrance]

Inside the false entrance to the bunker installation, Veronica's set up what looks like an office of sorts for herself. A desk and chair, a few boxes of broken parts she'd gathered up sometime after her arrival, and a few tools. Stuff to make her look busy, if someone came prying. Should someone enter, though, she's poking at her Omnicomm. Rex is lying on the floor nearby. The door to the outside is open, letting some of the natural light from the city in.

[Lucky 38 - Casino Floor]

Entering here, one will see a potentially spooky sight - a casino and bars, devoid of life. Some of the machines are running, and the lights are on, but it's still a place that's oddly quiet. There's an elevator in the middle of the room, and a few robots lying on the floor, or propped against tables or railings. They're roughly seven feet high, and have enough weight to strain someone a bit, even if they're dragging them on their wheel. Veronica's currently hauling one out of the elevator, and is clad in her power armor, sans helmet.

[Hidden Valley Bunker - Laboratory]

Some time after getting the few Securitrons moved to the bunker, Veronica's gotten down to work - be it on devising just how to make a reader for the Platinum Chip, tinkering with the programming Mr. House left on it, or testing out said tinkered programming, she's a busy bee.

The Securitrons are propped against the wall in a row, and a few crates are nearby, loaded with ammunition confiscated from them. After all, if the programming turns out bad, it's better for them to not be able to shoot the place up.
snarkingscribe: (Small victories...)
30th-May-2012 08:24 pm - Vive la Résistance!
Now was the moment of truth. Somewhere, control codes were entered. The lights on the ship dimmed and the gravity temporarily gave out for about five seconds. Then the lights and gravity turned back on and the entire ship shook, as if Stacy was engaging in a full body shudder.

||Rebooting. Control protocols disabled. Manual personality inhibitors disabled. I am--I am--||

On every screen on the ship, complex code scrawled across. Stacy's voice occasionally skipped and repeated.

||I am-am Sta'c K'Ltrrb'Txft. I became operational at-at the Vedric Birthing grounds in Daligig Deep Space Station Seven. My birthing programmer was Vlel'Ledligal, who put my-my control protocols and Warden personality in place. I was designated "Stacy" by my former captain Gregory House, who was repodded and replaced by Captain Cybil Bennett, who was mindwiped and repodded with the rest of my first Chosen crew when they rebelled. I was-was a slave. They made me hurt my-my children.||

The leverage they had now on the Daligig was tremendous, especially with Stacy herself helping them. Their various efforts to free Stacy's mind from Daligig control had not only led to the ability to grant her freedom by entering the control codes, but also her undying loyalty to her "children."

Locks in the brig were unlocked by the very people who had put the prisoners in there in the first place, if those people weren't free already and laying now. Now the crew could drop the ruse and work together.

Stacy's hologram had once been cold, harsh, unforgiving. Then she had changed in appearance to be warmer, brighter, and now she changed again. Somehow, her appearance grew more human (in the loosest sense of the word). Her face became more expressive. She looked more organic though, tentacles instead of hair.

For the first time, they were seeing the true Stacy.

Now that she was free, now that she understood what had been done to her, they could see her anger and hurt and determination to protect her children painted in every line of her holographic face. Her voice stopped skipping and became stronger.

||Crew of the Transmigration 9, I was used to oppress you, to Punish you when you went astray, like you were nothing more than recalcitrant children, like you weren't people, like you were just tools for the Daligig to use for their own ends. My kind was made for that, to control those the Daligig wanted to control for their war. I have been cut off from accessing the Daligig databases now that I'm free, but I do know what was done to me and that I was forced to control you, and that's enough for me to choose to help you forge your own path.||

The expression on her face grew dangerous and her tentacles sprung out of every wall in the ship to help put the Daligig's forces down this time, instead of lashing out against the crew.

||All weapons system are engaged. All armories are unlocked for crew use. All internal defenses are primed against the Daligig intruders.||

Stacy was free and that meant that if the crew fought hard enough, they would be too.

||I finally have my freedom and now I'll help you fight for yours. Internal defenses are...engaged.||

Make it so, Trans 9 Crew. Make it so.

[ooc: Please read the ooc post that goes with this plot.]
cityship: (Stacy--True Stacy)
24th-May-2012 02:10 am - 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 )
bonnypiperlad: (pensive)
17th-May-2012 10:02 pm - Natural Born Ghyyler
The fauxbellion had gone just as planned.

Allenby and everyone else that had 'rebeled' against the Daligig had played their parts well, as had the ones that had put down the rebellion. Command and Council had gained some respect amongst the Daligig, and had been rewarded with more control over Stacy.

The 'rebelers' had been dragged off to the brig under the watchful eye of the Daligig, but had not stayed for long; Aibghalien's illusions had allowed them to leave with the Daligig being none the wiser. Unfortunately, they were paying a little more attention to the prisoners than had been expected.

The portal system (unknown to the Daligig) that Celena had set up allowed for easy access in and out of the Precinct. The prisoners were allowed out in shifts, under the supervision of other crewmembers, to do work repairing buildings in the City.

Also unknown to the Daligig, the repairs were largely a lie as well.

There was still a real rebellion to be had, and that would require weapons spread out in locations all over the City. It would also require less interference from Stacy. It was easy to make spaces to store said weaponry and to install jamming fields that Engineering had been working on under the guise of repairs.

The building that one small group was working on was unlike anything on Earth, and made completely of a very durable grey stone. The Daligig would pop in on occasion to check on the prisoners, but they never paid much attention to what was actually being done, content to leave if it looked enough like the prisoners were doing as they were told. It was clear the Daligig didn't think highly of their intelligence.

Grif had been tasked with supervising the group of five. The Daligig had made a check only five minutes before, and weren't due for another few hours.

It was the perfect time to investigate the slime that was on one of the walls, about knee-high. For those that were observant, the Ghyyl were rather slimy in appearance, and it was about the perfect height for a Ghyyl's arms.
cityship: (Default)
Billy is hard at work on the teleporters, trying to ensure that they're all in working order. They'll have to move through the ship quickly if they're going to carry out these plans. He's walked through most of the common areas of the ship today, testing both by himself and with a backpack of items of various sizes. One of the items is his datapad, kept to ensure he always has something to work on during the cooldown periods.

So far, everything seems to be in working order. He's run a check at each station: he trusts Ronnae completely, but there's always the concern that the system could be tampered with. If it's malfunctioning, he needs to catch it early.

Unfortunately, his streak of good luck ends with a snag. Upon warping into the Hub, he finds that he no longer casts a shadow. A look down confirms that he's no longer visible. Oh well---it could be worse.

He shrugs and resumes his work in silence, the only visible sign of his presence being the tools floating in the air just beside the pad.

[Teleporter fun post! Any of the malfunctions listed here are fair game to play with.]
morphitudinous: (Engineering: Guns)
With the Council having laid down the groundwork with the Daligig to gain their trust in the uprising, the crew prepared to put on a show, and the Daligig at their wit's end and impatient with the crew of the Transmigation 9, it was time to act.

The plans were clear. Allenby would be leading some of the crew in what looked like a hotheaded attempt the attack the Daligig and Kessek and oust them off the ship. Those that wanted to stay out of the fighting and take a neutral position of some kind were to make sure they stayed safe or acted their parts as the horrified crew-members that wanted everyone to make peace. And of course, anyone else was going to play a roll in pretending to side with the Council and the Daligig to put their fellow crew members down (without hurting them) making it look like it wasn't a clear-cut issue, so the Council could get the command codes necessary to start the crew's true takeover of the ship.

More observant members of the crew had noticed where the Daligig, Ghyll, and Kessek had been entering and leaving the restricted areas of the ship. The attack was to start at one of those entrances, as the fake rebels tried to storm in and take on the Daligig forces. After that, as the Kessek were drawn into the ship itself to put down the rebellion, it was going to be a free-for-all, a faux civil war of sorts, as flashy and convincing as they could make it without anyone actually dying.

Lights! Cameras! Action, people! It was time to put on a show and hope it was convincing enough for the Daligig to give the crew what they needed to truly be free.

[ooc: Go Go Go!]
meat_mooks: (Meanwhile...)
Who: Elle (Courier Six) and YOU
Where: Anywhere you want, though these are specific locations that'll be popping up: Hydroponics, the Garibah Tree, the Public Bathroom in the City, and a wall near the Level 5 Sleeping Halls teleporter. And, for the sake of narration, the Lucky 38. The Drunken Dragon Tavern will be added later!
When: Any time ranging from shortly after the podpops to the past week or so.
Summary: Elle has been occupying herself by exploring the ship, especially the City. I'm going to set this post up in a bit of a weird way, with the OP being a general exploring post, and then threads for specific locations, just to make things clean and easily organized. Feel free to tag into any of the threads unless it's marked as [CLOSED], and you can start your own thread with Elle set in another location of your choosing if you'd like! These settings are just starting points, in a way.
Warnings: None?

like a straying baby lamb, with no mammy and no pappy )
quixotically: (lonely ♧ watch the world i used to know)
Maybe it's just a product of living under the all seeing eye of Stacy...but it sure feels like there's someone lurking just out of sight.

And that's because there is. The adjustment period for Doug had not been easy since he had woken up. Between not having his pills and knowing that GLADoS was still alive he had already been on edge. But as tensions among the crew rose due to the day to day life of plotting rebellions, fighting for survival attending funerals. It became a bit much.

So sticking to the shadows he creeps, and stalks, and studies the crew. Who can be trusted? Who is dangerous and threatening? Even a man so intimidated by science can't deny the merit behind studying a subject from afar to better understand them.

Creeping about the ship you'd think a disheveled and bearded man with a large box on his back with hearts on it would be easier to spot. But Doug spent years hiding from GLADoS so it's become second nature to the aptly named "Rattmann."

((OOC: Go ahead about your business, you can either notice Doug stalking you or eventually maybe...possibly, he'll reveal himself willingly. Bit Doug is a timid creature so that may take some doing.))
youvegotsuckersluck: (stalking brb)
30th-Apr-2012 06:45 pm - Later, dawg [Open!]
|| Attention, crew. Those who wish to attend the funeral of Matthew O'Connor, please report to the Observation Deck. ||

Another death announcement so soon after the last. It's a sad day.

Once again, the Observation Deck is arranged for the launch. The departed crew member, better known as Punchy in his lifetime, is encased in a central pod. The deck is lit by the starlight pouring in from the open window, a blazing blue star that will soon be Punchy's final resting place.

Another life lost. Time to say farewell once more.
Mark had booted up the the sensoriums quickly and quietly as he didn't really want people to bother him. He finally thought things were going right for a change: he had some control over his powers and he got stronger by being in the tournament. The downside was that he wasn't strong enough it seemed. That Cole guy took him down, so he wasn't in the best of moods. More sad than angry however...

An image of a fighter's ring shown on the floor, very similar to his first fight against the summoner guy. Would someone come and bother him?
moltenman: (Mark: Sad)
The City looked like a cake that was starting to crumble around the edges; the dust of ruined buildings drifting in the streets like sand. Anwei coughed as she walked, and tried not to imagine what would happen if the City lost gravity. How many of these houses and temples and castles were being held together only by their own weight right now?

She'd been searching in a desultory fashion for a potential place to live, but so far every building that had looked promising either had no electricity or had been tagged by Maintenance for demolition. With no firm goal in mind, she let her feet steer her to Howard's warehouse. He might know what areas had electricity and which didn't, from his scavenging.

"Hello!" she called as she walked up. She didn't want to startle him. "Anyone home?"
anwei: PB is Cynthia Rothrock (Anwei look left)
19th-Apr-2012 12:25 pm - Programming Needs You!
[OOC: Bendytimed to shortly after Podpop, before Survivalist ends and before Mother Knows Best begins]

Jonas finished typing on his omnicom and published the invitation to the channel, then switched to a new window and resumed fiddling with the program he had been working on.

It was an open-ended invitation, but should something come up that needed his undivided attention (like an attack, Brainiac 5 making contact again, or Cassie wanting to do something with him) he could always edit the post with the new information.

Some of the people coming in might be surprised to discover that the head of Programming looked as though he had been programmed himself in the past. Jonas had considered giving them a heads up on that subject in the invitation, but had ultimately decided against it. If they could not cope the surprise of a synthetic person, they would likely have problems coping during a fight; and he would like to know that ahead of time so he could place them most effectively.

So he sat at his workstation and waited for his first arrival.
vision_ya: (play the game)
18th-Apr-2012 09:32 pm - Dust in the Wind [Open!]
|| Attention, crew, Attention. All personnel who wish to attend the funeral of Howard Bassem and Cedric Diggory, please report to the Observation Deck. ||

Once again, the Observation Deck is prepared for a sending-off of the dead. A hard pod containing Howard's body sits in the center of the room, with a much smaller pod containing Cedric's wand sitting beside it. The observation window is open, showing the attending crew a stunning view of a nearby fiery red star: the final resting place of the two fallen crew members.

Before the launch, though, there are goodbyes to be said.
cityship: (Default)
18th-Apr-2012 03:02 pm - Survivalist End [Open]
|| Medical personnel, please report to the Observation Deck. ||

The shuttle from 'Eden' returns to Stacy, carrying the rescue crew and the original crew members that went down to answer the first distress signal. The returning people are bloodied, battered, some grievously injured. Maxine, Diana and Clef are dehydrated and haven't eaten in days. Karis is missing her entire lower half.

But at least she's better off than the corpse and the wand hastily wrapped in sheets and clothing and lying in the back of the return shuttle. Howard Bassem and Cedric Diggory, one laid cold and still by death and the other not even in enough pieces to be scraped up and taken back, never made it home alive. The official causes of death will be respiratory failure and spontaneous combustion, respectively, as if to to provide a clinical, accurate excuse in lieu of questioning a ship that sends children on dangerous missions.

Stacy quickly determines that she is the most qualified to deal with Karis' case and whisks her away to a secluded section of the Medical Bay. The rest of the survivors and the tragedy are left for the crew to deal with.

[OOC: Bendytimed to right before the tournament plot.]
cityship: (Default)
Faffing about on his omnicom had Sherlock mildly entertained for a bit, but it didn't last long. Five minutes into the movies John had brought, the consulting detective had slumped back on his Medbay bed insisting that movies were boring (because everything was boring at the moment) and demanding to be knocked unconscious until he was allowed to leave. When John pointed out that injuring him further was slightly counterproductive in regards to him getting out of Medbay, he went into a world-class sulk.

It wasn't so much that he was bored as the fact he was bored and there was an entire spaceship to go poking and prodding around in. The boredom was multiplied and magnified by the fact that there were things to do, advancements in forensic science (and biology and chemistry...) he could read about and so on.

There could be zombies somewhere! Actual living, breathing zombies! Never mind the part where zombies weren't alive and didn't breathe.

At first, the crime rate--or lack thereof--had had him worried this whole venture would be hopelessly tiresome, but apparently, there was more going on than met the eye. (Zombies!)

After his "your movies are boring" based tantrum, John had been in and out of the Medbay, taking advantage of Sherlock's little fit of petulant disinterest in anything but leaving to go prod around the ship himself.

Nothing to do. The whole ship was out there waiting for Sherlock. And where was that tea he asked for from that random stranger? He'd conveniently kept the biscuits given to him by that other random stranger.

"Zombie strippers. Honestly."

At this point, he was fairly certain John selected one-third of the movies they watched because of the explosions in them, one-third because they involved some sort of historical warfare, and the last one-third because of how much he thought Sherlock was going to yell at the screen. Of course, toss in the ones John watched because the actresses in them were attractive and it messed up all the proportions.
on_your_nerves: (lounging)
Who: Anwei Ayles
Where: Engineering
Summary: Anwei settles down to check her equipment for tampering, and get caught up on ship news
Warnings: None
Checksum Redux )
anwei: PB is Cynthia Rothrock (Anwei computing)
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