Entry tags:
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.
||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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She wriggled for only a moment, before she realized what exactly was happening. Cleaned and dressed (well, dressed was a loose word, but at least there was something covering her now) she stood back on the floor, fighting her legs as they swayed oddly beneath her.
She moved around. The suit, if strange, wasn't particularly uncomfortable in nature, but that didn't mean she felt good wearing it. It seemed to pulse against her skin, and she cringed a little, stepping quickly out of the room.
"Hell of a welcome you have set up here," she half-shouted at Stacy.
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"Yeah, take me to that locker," Gwen said sternly. "And who would I speak to about gettin' my wedding band back? Or did you chuck that out as well?"
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||If your ring is here, it will also be in the Weapons and Possessions Locker.|| Stacy answered.
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"I don't understand," she asked Stacy. "Why do you let us keep some of our belongings?"
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See? Stacy cares.
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"Seems a bit cruel to deprive them of being able to go home," Gwen muttered, tromping down the hallway. But pretty kind not binning a ring that cost her husband a few months worth of pay.
Gwen's thankful. A little.
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||Please step inside.|| Stacy instructed. ||The Hub will take you where you want to go.||
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She stepped inside the tube, and cleared her throat. "Well, let's get to that weapons locker, then." First she'd find her ring and her gun. Then she'd find someone else and get some answers.