Ace really really hated this ship. He’d been in buildings this big; land locked monsters that were impossible to find your way out of, pointlessly huge for the rich and cocky.

But this ship…she was a ship. And she shouldn’t be this big. Every sea loving part of him insisted this was true.

A ship in space.

Well, what could you do?

It took him a little longer than he’d promised to find the room Chopper had directed him to, and he was left standing outside hoping he had found the right one.

What was Luffy’s doctor even DOING here? And it seemed like just him, none of the rest of the crew, he knew Luffy. Luffy wouldn’t leave a member of his crew alone.

He sighed and lifted his hand to knock.

Maybe Chopper had the answers.

Ooc: Let me know if this won’t work.

"Getting goddamned tired of goddamned GLADOS! Stupid soul dropping bullshit."

Looks like a certain hunter finally escaped the latest set of mazes. Dean fumed before looking around. Ok, why was the city so deserted? Even more than usual. He started to run, ignoring the fact he felt a lot warmer than usual. Stacy's heating system must be out of whack. Damn, and Sam's still in the brig. He ran faster trying to find him.

Omnicomm in hand with the map file displayed - the one that Alex had given him - Wheeljack made his way through the halls of the alien ship he'd found himself on only cycles ago.  Once in a while, he'd reach out to brush cool, pliable-metal fingers over the stone-plastic-something surface of the wall as he went, still in awe of this reportedly living, organic, sentient ship.

And in shock at everything he'd learned . . . but he resolutely was pushing that from his mind right now.

Right now, he was looking for the Engineering Department - a natural environment for him, to be sure, but more pointedly, he was heading to meet someone. Someone named Alex.

It occurred to the Autobot engineer that he had no idea what Alex looked like, nor even what race he was.  Guess I shoulda asked, huh.  Well . . . nothin' for it now, I guess.  Besides, how big can Engineerin' be?  Gotta be someone in there who answers ta the right name.

Reaching the top level of the ship, he came to an area marked "Engineering Core" and paused, outright staring for a moment.  Wheeljack was a brilliant engineer and top-notch physical scientist - the best the Autobots had to offer - but he took in the buzzing equipment and organic workstations with a sensation like degrading fuel in his tanks.

Whoa.  Um . . . I-I may be just a little outta my league here, I think.  Talk about a learnin' curve!

Well . . . if he had to start over again, then he supposed that was just what he'd have to do.  But first thing's first.  Squaring his shoulder struts, he strode into the room.  "Hello, anybody home?  Alex?"

With the little house she’d been fixing in the City quarantined, Sheryl had made it her business to become intimately acquainted with the Quarter, and had happily discovered that it had a serviceable mess kitchen and crew bunks in the dustier parts of its bowels. A few hours in Hydroponics later, she’d assembled the materials for a serviceable break from ship-goo dinners, and now a respectable soup was finishing up on the oversized burners.

She let her hair down and sent off a brief omnicomm message and started pushing the worst of the dust off the little lounge’s tables before anyone from off Frontier could arrive.

[[ Dated to after podpop and during contagion plot, open to all. ]]