Breezes are rare in the city. Rarer still are winds strong enough to glide on - so when Goliath feels one picking up, he doesn't waste time continuing his walk through the City. He lunges for the nearest building, talons digging into sheer stone, and pulls himself up the wall arm over arm until he's gained enough height to take off. He launches into the rare thermal, spiraling upwards, higher and closer to the domed sky that closes off the City.

As he rises, he lets himself appreciate the calm security of being in the air once more. Gliding may be the one thing that pulls him back to the Sensoriums. He has no interest in resurrecting a world lost - he has lost and returned to a home by sorcery before, and has no incentive to do it again - but it would be wasteful to lose strength in the air for lack of opportunities to exercise his wings.

Secure in the air, gliding slowly downwards, he surveys the City, looking for signs of life in the streets, or buildings that look like Precincts. He doesn't spot any of the latter, but when he sees the former, he swoops downwards, landing far enough away that he believes he will not scare them too soon out of helping him in his quest.

"I am looking for the Precinct. Perhaps you know where it is."

Something...odd is happening on the ship. Plant-like protrusions are occasionally sprouting in places throughout the ship.

They look like mistletoe, but this is purely coincidental. It's not like it's the holidays on the ship, right? It might be for some people, back home (if they still had a home), but others were grabbed from different times. No, it's just coincidence that these little devices look vaguely like mistletoe, and coincidence what they're being used for.

For you see, when this "mistletoe" is overhead, a crew member will be trapped in an invisible forcefield, and won't be able to escape until someone has kissed them or otherwise showed them some equivalent of affection. (Cheek kisses and sloppy puppy kisses from the canine crew members count). The "mistletoe" spring itself is shielded itself and can't be destroyed, the only way out is a kiss.

Why is this all happening? GLaDoS is performing whacky behavioral experiments, that's why. Each time, it happens, she intones messages like the following.

"Please express affection for your fellow crewmate to free them."

"This is of the utmost importance, and part of ongoing Crew Coherency and Cooperation Studies."

"Please do not attempt to leave the vicinity until you have participated."

"Participation is required. Why wouldn't you want to participate?"

"The Transmigration9 AI Complex thanks you for your participation in important research. Unless you don't want to participate, but not participating would make me disappointed. I suppose you just want to disappoint me."

And of course, sometimes she even outright lies.

"There will be cake."

All the while Hal was traversing the ship, the place that came closest to home for him was the Statuary. At least, a part of it did. He needed a clear head. He needed someone (someone he knew from back home) to tell him that he wasn't crazy.

Thankfully, he had already contacted Wonder Woman. He would contact Ollie and Guy and Kyle first, but the ring couldn't contact them or find them for some reason. Maybe it has something to do with their location... In fact, the ring hadn't been able to do some of the things it was used to doing, and Hal knew that since he started exploring this place. He would deal with that later. But for now, he waited for the amazon princess.

Kyle was looking for information, anything that gave him a clue as to what was really going on. He honestly didn’t expect some golden epiphany of information to rain down on him, but there was always a hope that he’d learn just a little bit more.

He had gone through a good deal of the books, looking for something that seemed older than the others and nothing. He had found absolutely nothing. No book of doom, no schematics of the ship, nothing. Sighing he rubbed at his temples and wondered exactly what everyone was doing. Wonder (STAR) Woman was probably trying to figure out how to eat the slop without dribbling it into her cleavage (like that was even possible), Hal was off demanding answers (as usual), Guy was probably using the ships walls as a speed bag, and who the hell was Booster Gold?

He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling… “Since when did mistletoe grow on intergalactic meatship?”

It had been a busy day, or at least as busy as Chris could make it. Between his own regimen of physical therapy, talking with his sister, and contacting this Luke Skywalker guy that had been looking after Steve, Chris was actually struggling to find things to keep him from doing the one thing he didn't want to do too much of: thinking.

Now, though, he had worked himself as long as he could. His body was starting to give out on him, and it was only reluctantly that he headed back to the room he was sharing with Jill. He flopped down on the bottom bunk. Yea, that was supposed to be Jill's bed, but at the moment, he was too tired to climb up onto his bunk. He hadn't even noticed if Jill was in the room or not. But as soon as he hit the bed, his mind began to dwell on certain past events. The Kijuju incident, Raccoon City, and the news regarding the destruction of the various worlds. It began to sink in about the massive loss of life, and the ever compassionate Chris was having problems coping for the moment.

Peter walked into the sensoriums once again, after sending out his message to find Lorne's bar had already been set up, as if Stacy had been expecting him. The green-skinned demon barkeep smiled warmly.

"Hey there, eagle scout!" Lorne said, his voice matching the look on his face. "Thanks for bringing me up again! Your first song's cued up. Let's see how big a crowd you can draw this time!" Peter nodded with a sheepish smile and hopped upstage. He hated to admit it, but this was such a stress relief, and nothing could be more embarrassing than the mistletoe incident.

As a slow piano started playing, Peter began singing his slightly sad tune.

o/`City lights are calling
slowly coming back to life
Speeding in the fastlane
Mama let us waste no time

Devil in the doorway selling any knid of hell
We're just coming out to play the game

We never cry for love - we're superheroes
We are back where we belong
We never cry for pain - we're superheroes
Make a stand where we belong

Way too long I've tried to be
what I could never be
For too long you've rolled the dice
but you can't control me
I ain't talking 'bout romance
you may fiddle I may dance
Anyway it's just a game we play..

We never cry for love - we're superheroes
We are back where we belong
We never cry for pain - we're superheroes
Make a stand where we belong

You gotta move to stay alive
We're gonna rock the bash tonight..

Cry for love-we're superheroes
We are back where we belong

We never cry for love... o/`

Peter finished and looked at those who had shuffled in after his comm. He waved to the mic as he got off the stage.

"Mic is free, guys. Go nuts. It's actually a lot of fun..."

[OOC: Same as last time, folks. Start a subthread with your character approaching the stage and singing a song. Characters can react to other's performances even if they aren't singing themselves. And any song you'd like, Lorne has the entire mutliverse on karaoke. I'm not asking, and neither should you. See that? EXACTLY the same. Almost like I was lazy and copy/pasted.]

Even after his conversation with Luke, it took Steve a day or two to finally work up the courage to seek out Claire. He got close on the second day and then chickened out, then retreated to his room to try and figure out exactly how he was going to phrase this. It was all in the approach, after all.

So he decided today he'd stop by the precinct for... something, he'd probably find something he could do around there-- and if he ran into Claire, then he'd talk to her.

And he ran into her in one of the conference rooms. Shit. Why was it always a conference room?

"Hey- uh... Claire?" he said, clearing his throat. "Are you busy?"

Oh god. What was he doing? This was the worst idea ever.