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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That was what he wanted, wasn't it?
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Whatever he was expecting, it certainly wasn't what happened.
Lets hope that Stacey doesn't understand trollish, as most of the words Sparhawk is saying are decidedly uncomplimentary.
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badtoucheddressed by the clingy, rather grabby tendrils dangling from the ceiling. When they set him down, his face and hair would be clean of the remaining stasis fluid, and the strangely soft and oddly throbbing jumpsuit would be working on cleaning up the rest of it.no subject
Experimentally, he pokes the jumpsuit with one finger, before looking up at the ceiling.
"So what now?"
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"I thought that you said my companions were not on the crew roster?" and he does his best to mimic her tone.
Although its slowly dawning on him that perhaps...
"Stacey, do the other podmates have legs?"
Considering that Sparhawk's only other experience with alien life forms included ones with no legs, its an apt question.
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Toxin was an slightly odd case, but he did have legs. Pat's legs, but still.
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"Then lead the way neighrbour, if it pleases you."
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||Please follow the lights.||
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The pustules lead Sparhawk to what looked like a large tube with a door in the side. Opening the door would reveal that it was a tube, apparently completely hollow.
||Please step inside. The Hub will take you where you want to go.||
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"You didn't have to bring me all this way to try and kill me," he notes mildly. "You could have just asked those tentacles to do it."
He doesn't think that Stacey wants to kill him, otherwise he'd be more on his guard, but he's interested in how she responds. Consider this his version of Ulath's "Dead-mouse-concealed-in-hand" trick.
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"That's reassuring to know," he replies, almost gently to her, before stepping forward into the tube. Never let it be said that a knight quailed before the unknown.
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There was a jolt though, and Sparhawk started rising through the Hub, up toward where the rest of the crew was congregating.