||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounded out to all the podmates.

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

There was condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slid out onto the floors, covered in slime.

Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiissss.

Sparhawk is not normally one for brooding. His only real fit of brooding occured after his wife was kidnapped, and even then it mostly consisted of Sparhawk thinking of ways to track down those responsible, and what he would do with them when he caught up to them.

He dislikes feeling helpless. At least when he first arrived here, there were people to meet, and he had to get his bearings. And then the brain slugs came, and the Taxxoms, and there was no time to think in the heat of battle.

But now, afterwards, the reality of where he is, is sinking in. He has found good companions on board this ship, but it is still an alien place. And so far, there is no way of getting home. To be sure, Sparhawk, more than most, understands about being chosen for a purpose, and not being consulted. He had not asked to be Anakha, but that was the way that things worked out. That was the reason that he volunteered to try and find a way off this ship. Others should have the choice whether or not to be Chosen. But he would stay.

He's not voiced this thought to the rest of the crew as yet, there was no need. No doubt most would think him mad to want to stay, but he is a Knight. Being mad is what they're good at. He can almost hear the voice of Kalten in his mind.

But he still gets homesick to an extent. And so the broken nosed knight has retreated to the Sensoriums.

A large thatched cottage stands at the far end of a muddy yard. the smell of fresh baked bread fills the air. A large barn rises up behind the house, and fields stretch into the distance.  Its late evening, the clear and cloudless sky that peculiar shde of blue that can only be found at this time.

Sparhawk sits on a log to one side of the yard, Stacey provided whetstone in his hand, carefully working on his sword. His rhythmic movement is still not quite as smooth as it could be, although Brainiac 5 did a good job of healing his shoulder. Along with a few choice words about waiting so long, but Sparhawk let that wash over him. There were more important things to worry about.

So he's taking this time to relax, while he can.

After being de-slimed--for the most part--and wrapped in discomforting, dark green, plant-like body-suits--that not only left little to the imagination, but also seemed to be breathing--the newly pod-popped crew all happen to congregate in the Weapons and Possessions Lockers at the same time. This cavernous warehouse of a chamber has shelves and shelves and racks of belongings and weapons that go off as far as the eye can see. Everything from massive sidearms to impossibly huge swords, to Hello Kitty lunchboxes.

Their own belongings are here near the front--they've been moved to make finding them more easy, but it will take a bit of hunting.

Either way, they won't be searching alone. Everyone's piling in at the same time.

Blitzwing has, rather enthusiastically, taken well to the Sensoriums. He's avoided the occupied rooms, preferring his own company (as usual). He's also been through the Media Library and at Icy's behest has spent most of his time there, occupying himself with whatever reading material he can get his hands on and that he actually likes. Random, much to his siblings' annoyance, has spent his share of time giggling happily and letting the pod read his mood.

This usually consisted of Caramelldansen and other energetic pop songs (most of them Japanese) playing constantly, and Icy and Hothead were in mutual agreement after the first hour to never let Random in here again.
When it was Hothead's turn, he spent most of it watching military films.

After that little adventure was over, the triplechanger , with Icy in charge, went off to the Sensoriums. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted, so he just said 'a place to relax.'
He really wasn't expecting this.

It's New Kaon, exactly as he remembered it, oh yes that was a vivid memory-all twisted structures of Cybertronian metal and glass, glittering in the light of a Cybertronian sunset.
Which is almost like an Earth sunset, really.

In any case, he's currently sitting on the lip of the balcony, legs hanging off the side and breathing in the ambience of the place.
(Random and Hothead are too busy complaining about the lack of explosions to bother themselves with looking up 'ambience'.)

There's a slight breeze springing up, and he can feel it. Oh yes.  He used to love the place, for different reasons; maybe he still does.

Even a Decepticon appreciates peace, and quiet, and maybe even beauty-once in a while. Even if the Decepticon in question is crazy. Blitzwing shutters his optics briefly and swings his legs idly, toying with the idea of going for a flight or even blowing things up please please please?

Icy refuses to let Hothead and Random run rampant, promising they can change it to something else once it's their turn, and continues to quietly enjoy the scenery.