After briefly being a hostage, Nima is feeling a little shaken. But the herd of glowsloths are even more shaken, huddling together on the scorchmarked rocks that are serving as their temporary habitat.

Nima returns to the herd as quickly as she can, once the firebender has let her go, checking the animals for burns and calming them as best she can. Zuko scared them pretty badly, but he didn't actually burn any of them. Still, the glowsloths are bioluminescing in jagged, angry patterns, and jumping from rock to rock.

When the animals, and Nima, are calm, she stays with the herd. The littlest of the creatures is splayed over her lap, and Nima pets it while the herd's largest female picks through her hair. Nima allows it, sniffling occasionally, while the other glowsloths huddle nearby, twitchy and wary.

 Anyone wandering into the media library this morning would find a somewhat unfamiliar looking young woman (about eighteen, possibly nineteen) sitting in front of the equipment, head tilted back and eyes closed as she listened to some good, old-fashioned rock and roll. She looks fit, in excellent physical condition and seems cheerful enough. She has one leg folded over the opposite knee, toe tapping as she keeps time with the music. Yeah, she's discovered just how awesome music from twentieth century Earth is and she's enjoying it. 

Give her a minute and she'll probably notice whoever wanders in after her. 

So far, Ter'thelas had been avoiding the Sensoriums. What he'd heard of them had been mildly disturbing. A room of illusions. It all sounded too much like that human's tower, Karazhan. Still, he decided he ought to at least investigate them once. So he had entered the Sensorium with a package from the planet they'd left under his arm, summoned up an image long gone by now. A wonderous cityscape in whites, gold and reds, fine brick and mortar, curving architecture stretching towards the sky, open spaces and grand arches. The city of Silvermoon. He'd even included a few of the magical brooms that wandered the city, sweeping it clean.

Almost reverently, he unwrapped what he'd brought. An expertly wrought viola in a cherry-red wood. He lifted it, tuned it by his ear, and then, began to play. A sad, almost mournful melody filled the simulated city, as Ter'thelas, eyes closed tightly, played a dirge for his people for the second time in his life.

His omnicomm beeped with some vital message or another. He ignored it.

"Minion!" That was reflex. Minion wasn't here. "Brainbot! Your assistance, please?"

BAOW BAOW BAOW, the brainbot intoned.

"I just need a tentacle holding this right here--thank you. Whos'a good lil' brainbot? Whos'a good boy for helping daddy? You are! Yes, you are! Oh, look at you, yesterday, you were just learning how to fly and today, you're a big boy helping daddy around the lab!"

The brainbot's neural net sparked happily in response.

You never went wrong with positive reinforcement, as far as Megamind was concerned, and he really did appreciate the assistance. After the initial bad impression he'd made after pod release (really, what had he been thinking?), he was amazed they had even hired him to work in the Science and Engineering departments, and didn't exactly expect anyone to be willing to assist him with his project (not that he'd really asked, because if he had, he might have been surprised).

He was used to working alone, though, and he didn't have to work entirely alone, as one of his first projects had been making some brainbots out of the scrap material he'd found there.

What was he working on? Well, only something that'd get him in the good graces of the crew...he hoped. It had been hard enough proving himself to the people of Metro City. This paranoid bunch of motley do-gooders had apparently had some run-ins with villains before, and given his history, that mean he needed to start off on a good foot doing this good guy stuff.

And maybe, just maybe, if he kept it all up, Roxanne would fall for him again as deeply as she had before he'd been taken. Maybe. Of course, that was something he tried not to think about, the fact that she didn't remember a great deal of their history together. Six months was a considerable amount of time, time that could never be recreated, not exactly as it'd happened. He simply had to hope things would work out as well as they had the first time, that he wouldn't mess anything up, that...

BAOW? The noise was almost questioning, and Megamind realized he'd frozen in place, not doing anything, his eyes looking past his little project.

"Hmm? I seem to have gotten lost in my thoughts," he said to the brainbot. "Keep holding that right there, and I'll activate the energy core..."

The weapon sparked to life, a charge cascading throughout its circuits. It cast a crackling light over his blue face, and Megamind started to cackle loudly.

"With this weapon, I, Megamind, Master of All Villainy, will drive my enemies to their many-segmented knees!" his voice boomed through the lab. A thought occurred to him, thought, and he amended, "That is, if they even have knees! If not, it'll drive them to whatever body part serves the capacity of knees for their species! Or to some other assorted body part that's unpleasant to be driven to!"

He let off another masterful cackle, just because he felt like it. Old habits really did die hard.

That's when he heard the footsteps and noticed he had a visitor at the door. Looking back, goggles askew, he looked awkward for a moment, and quickly amended, "I meant: 'I, Megamind, master of all heroism.' This is a weapon to use against the Ohm. Not to use against innocent people, since that would, of course, be evil. Which I'm not. It's a horrible death weapon of--of...goodness."

BAOW, intoned the brainbot, and it was very clear what it was trying to say: Awkwaaaard.

[ooc: First person who tags in gets the monologue. Any others get similar evilish talking, so you can just assume he was cackling over his genius in any subthread.]

Feet propped on a table, leaning back in a rather comfy chair he'd stolen out of Engineering, Zetta absently flipped through the large packet in which he'd compiled his many proposals as he waited for the rest of the Council to arrive.

As he reached the last page in the packet, he snickered. "'Alexander, God of Destructions, smells.' That never gets old!" Not that he actually expected that particular proposal to be passed. It was just bargaining leverage, something that could easily be cut as a concession to get some of the rest of the stuff past the peaceniks and love-and-rainbows crowd.

"I feel like I should have a nameplate," he said, looking down at the table.

Neither Rachel nor Marco had any real trust in the medical situation they'd both been forced into. It seemed like they had been tricked and betrayed; and it meant that there were instantly a few more people crossed off their list of who they should trust when they escaped. In fact-- it left them at each other, it seemed, when they did escape from medical, two cockroaches slipping out of sight while medical was distracted from them.

Of course, this was compounded by the fact that several communications posts went up shortly after-- one announcing a Quarantine (thankfully they'd gotten out in time for that) and one announcing their abilities to the crew to warn them. And then things got worse-- Marco's morphing began to get weird, and Rachel... literally split into two.

This wasn't going well.

((ooc: As Blue's OOC post said, we need to make sure that only the people signed up for taking the two 'groups' (Nice Rachel and Marco in one corner, just Mean Rachel in the other) to Quarantine are the ones who actually do that. Other than that, feel free to try and do it! Tag under the header for whoever you want to thread with and feel free set the scene, and ours will enter in. :) ))