trans_9 | Talk About Timing...

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Talk About Timing...

While chaos was going on in the city, a level below the Living Areas, the rest of the ship was functioning normally. Stacy, apparently oblivious to goings on in the city, likely do to her malfunctioning sensors there, carried on with ship business.

||Pod Release Protocols Initating,|| Stacy's familiar voice sounded out to the upper levels, though no one was there to hear her. They were all downstairs, fighting for their lives against giant cockroaches.

In the Pod Caverns, there were the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

The usual condensation and mist sprayed out from cracks in the pods, they ripped open and the people inside slid out onto the floors, covered in slime. One of them, due to his mechanical nature, slid out covered in a sort of oil mixture, in a smaller body than he'd once had.

Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiissss.

There was no one already freed from the ship to greet them, only Stacy herself, and the empty silence of a ship caught in the middle of a crisis.

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He's still walking, arms crossed, looking surly.

"'Keen'?" he asks. "Are you sure you don't need that helmet?"

"I'm sorry, would you rather I squeed and asked you what the future is like, because oh-em-gee isn't that like the coolest thing ever and jumped up and down so you would turn around and see what was going on just to get a show? I don't think so, nerd boy."

"I'd rather you stop using strange colloquialisms such as 'squeed' and 'oh-em-gee'--whatever that means--as that's what's making it sound as if you need a helmet."

"Oh that's it, tight-ass. Somebody hold my non-existant gold, coz I'm about to come up there and blast your bits off with heat vision."

~~Lyle, hold my weave!~~

He rounds on her. "That's it. You're walking in front, so I can have my turn making discomfiting comments about your rear end."

"Back off five feet, Captain Celery. You don't get to come this close to me when I'm not wearing anything." She pushes past him then, her hand grazing a pectoral. "Fine, follow me, but I don't know where I'm going, and for all I know we'll get us lost. Then we'll see how much you enjoy the view."

||Do you require clothing, Kara Zor-El and Querl Dox?||

"How about a bubble bath and tacos? The clothes can come right after." She looked at Brainiac. "Especially for Squirrel Fox here. He's looking a little green."

"She requires a muzzle," Brainy groused, and then focused his brain past the annoying girl.

"Who is speaking to us right now?"

||I am STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT--|| the voice began. As it spoke, both Brainy and Kara would feel a surge of motherly love, duty, and many other things, all wrapped up together and half-translated into sound. ||You may also call me Stacy.||

"Right. Stacy. Okay," Kara said, nodding."Umm, I don't require the muzzle, but is there, like, a book of manners that you can throw at his head? Or a text book from a finishing school? Because he needs it. Like, stat." A pause. "Why are we here, anyway?"

Brainy, on the other hand, reacted to those feelings being dumped in his head with more than a nod.

"Whoever you are, don't--don't do that!"

||I do not harm the crew, Kara Zor-El,|| Stacy replied. As if to disprove that, a tentacle armed with a needle suddenly protruded from the wall. ||Querl Dox, you seem distressed. Would you care for a mild sedative?||

Let ~~Mommy~~ Stacy love you, Brainy.

"He'd prefer a much stronger sedative. Boy needs to be put down for a few hours," Kara snarked.

Truth was, the rush of feeling had overwhelmed her, but she was feeling too snarky to really deal with them right now.

When she was alone...if she ever got alone time [really, did she even want alone time?], then she'd give in.

"Umm. So, you never told us why we're here."

As the needle arms dart for him, he steps back and puts up his forcefield. "I do not require sedatives! Stop trying to dose me and answer her questions."

The needle-arm disappeared back into the walls of the ship.

||You are both here because you have been Chosen for a great duty,|| Stacy explained. If they were hoping for more than that, they were out of luck though.

"Chosen? Seriously?" She raises an eyebrow. "I'm not killing anything. Just an FYI." A beat. And then. "He was chosen to be the entertainment though, right? Jester hat and all?"

He frowns at her. "Chosen for what kind of duty?"

||A great one.|| Stacy answered. She is just so helpful, isn't she?

"Please clarify on the exact responsibilities and obligations we've been chosen to fulfill and why we, specifically, were chosen to do this."

||That information is classified.||

Nyah nyah.

"Let me make sure I've properly collated all the information you've provided us--you've taken us from our proper places in the timeline for the express purpose of fulfilling some sort of purpose or obligation you refuse to tell us the nature of, and any and all questions of ours will be met by you telling us that information is classified, correct? I'd also imagine you or whoever is responsible for your existence or assignment to your task of communicating with us are responsible for my memory being altered."

His fists clench at his sides.

"You infernally fatuous disembodied nitwit! If there is some sort of task or mission we must fulfill, do you honestly believe we'll go through with it without more information first? Did you really think I wouldn't notice your memory tampering? I have a twelfth-level intelligence, and complete mental control! Why should we trust you?"

"...Ignore him. He suffers from total social dysfunction. Now, about those baths..."

These things can be figured out later. Once they've eaten, been cleaned up, and gotten dressed.

The needle arms cometh.

||Are you sure that you do not want a mild sedative, Querl Dox?||

A line of pustules at their feet began to glow, leading upwards through the cavern. ||Please follow the lights.||

Kara looked down. "Ew." Looking up at Brainiac, she said, "Descendants of evil first. Superheroes bringing up the rear."

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