Unleash the Podlings!

[cityship]

||Pod Release Protocols Initiating,|| Stacy announced to the denizens of the upper levels. Down the the Pod Caverns, familiar sounds made themselves known:

Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

Mist sprayed from the cracks in the pods before the new crew members were summarily ejected from warm, comfortable stasis to their new chilly, damp reality. They'd either meet each other in the Caverns or in the upper levels, where the previously popped crew would also be waiting for them, if Stacy had anything to say about it.

This time, there were two pods spitting mechanical beings out of a more oily mixture, and one podling who was significantly smaller than most of the others.

Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiissss.

Comments

[prettycoolguy]

John-117, better known as the Master Chief, is awake now and vigorously so. That happened when he hit the deck and in a second or so he's already regained his feet through pure reflex. The temperature is the first thing that bothers him, even as he runs through a quick checklist of his limbs and finds them all undamaged. He's too warm. You NEVER wake up from cryo sleep without feeling slightly frozen. Or from a fleshy pod. Or dripping ooze, bad-tasting ooze that he's quietly spitting out and wiping from his face. Okay, this isn't making any sense. His eyes rake across the pod room around him, looking for signs of danger. It's like a Flood hive in here, the floor is fleshy under his bare feet and the other pods and the rest of the room are doing nothing to refute the similarity. It smells differently though... the decay is missing. It doesn't quite feel the same, but it does nothing good for his nerves.

Think, John. Where were you? In cryo in the back half of the UNSC Forward Unto Dawn, drifting in empty space. His only conclusion now is that something found him. But what? Where is his armor? And Cortana? How long has he been out? Long enough for those bruised ribs to stop hurting at least...

[cityship]

||Hello John-117.||

That 'something' is speaking to him. There's something strange about the voice though, like he didn't actually hear anything...

[morphitudinous]

Billy couldn't recall the last time that waking up had been so thoroughly unpleasant. He'd expected to awaken in his bedroom, or his lab, or perhaps even the Command Center, but he'd never risen to consciousness coated in the slimy fluid now clinging to him.

The foreign situation immediately kicked his still-sluggish mind into gear. His imagination provided him with vivid images of torture at the hands of Rita Repulsa and her bumbling minions. If they'd captured him in his sleep, he was in deep trouble. His fingers rapidly flew to his wrist to contact Zordon or another Ranger, but they only encountered skin and slime.

This triggered the first stirrings of panic. Billy reached for the morpher that always hung at the base of his back, and again, found nothing but slime-coated flesh. Stomach twisting, he looked over his form and deduced that he was completely naked. He covered himself with one hand and unsteadily pushed to his feet with the other.

Billy couldn't make out the details of his new surroundings, but the pulsating lights flashing on the edges of the blur in front of him were more than unsettling enough. Goosebumps prickled down his arms, though whether they were from the chill in the air or the rising apprehension in his mind was anyone's guess. A slimy, powerless Billy without visual aid was at an extreme disadvantage in any fight. And somehow, he doubted he was on a pleasure cruise.

At any rate, staring at the fuzzy picture of a cavern in front of him wasn't providing answers. He spoke hesitantly, hoping despite the odds that a friendly English-speaking life form was present.

"Is anyone there?"

[cityship]

||I am here, William Cranston,|| answers a voice. It's emotionless, almost mechanical in nature but not quite. Possibly feminine. And there's something strange about the way it sounds, as if "sounds" isn't even the right word at all...

[gogopowersuit.livejournal.com]

All of Samus's thoughts could be summed up in pretty much one word: Ugh. Dripping goo was never a good thing, especially if you were naked and covered in it. This brought another thought to her mind, why was she naked? An immediate reaction was an attempt to activate her power suit, which promptly failed. Another attempt. Failure. Her current surroundings, even though it was painfully obvious she was no longer on her ship, didn't even phase her as she worked out any possible reasons why it wouldn't work.

And nothing came to mind. There was absolutely no reason she should be naked, covered in goo, and stuck with a malfunctioning suit that was supposed to be fitted to her like a second skin. She wiped some of the ooze off of her face and looked at it. She tried to figure out what it was from, but couldn't identify it.

She was oddly calm as she stood up, though, figuring out a plan in her head. It wasn't her favorite idea, but it would be easiest to contact the Galactic Federation. She could get out of here and get her suit fixed. Yeah. That'll work.

[cityship]

||Hello, Samus Aran.|| The voice seemed feminine in nature, but also manufactured. It didn't appear to come from anywhere specific, either.

[crazychanger.livejournal.com]

"Ooohahaha dot vas interestink!" the triplechanger announced gleefully. He didn't seem fazed by the fact that he'd just gotten spat out into some otherworldly spacecraft.

There was a kshnk and a dizzying blur of movement, and Blitzwing's face changed.
"Ah...but vhere are ve?" he asked, considerably more quietly. He was now observing his new surroundings with some bemusement.

He hadn't yet noticed his height. Perhaps that was for the better at the moment.

[cityship]

A voice, female from the sound of it comes from...well...nowhere.

||You are in the Pod Caverns.||

[frakked-up.livejournal.com]

Today was officially the worst day of Saul Tigh's life.

He burst through the slime, gasping for air, and he just _knew_ that this was the proof that he was a Cylon, not a real human.

He'd been resurrected.

Looking around, he didn't see any skinjobs on hand to take him out of the goo. But maybe as one of the Final Five they wanted to give him some frakkin' privacy.

Didn't even leave him his eyepatch. Of course, he'd taken it off before racking out - or so he thought. He'd had some ambrosia before bed and his memory wasn't what it used to be.

Looking around, he gingerly climbed out of the body-temperature goo, wiping himself off as best he could.

"All right, you bastards. Which Basestar is this?" he asked. Didn't look like the ones he'd seen and been aboard, but maybe they were all different.

[cityship]

A feminine voice responded, perhaps not as helpful as he could hope. ||No illegitimate children are currently present. This is not a Basestar.||

[acid-dissonance.livejournal.com]

It was an eerie silence...before the pod before him popped...popped him out from all nightmares--and exposing himself to the present reality.

'...Operation: systemscheck..'

Soundwave's optics flickered to life as he stood away from the pod and eliminated the goo around himself.

It was an alien place with strange substance. He scanned the walls for signs of life and suddenly stood on his guard. This ship is alive, and it is holding him from reality... or is this the reality?

He didn't bother to check anymore. Fragged up systems are the least thing he can deal with in a situation like this.

"Organic ship..." He thought out loud, his voice, monotonous.

[cityship]

||Hello Soundwave.||

So, what's Soundwave's opinion on voices in his head?

[ihasvision.livejournal.com]

"....oh god, So much slime, I've got gunk in places I didn't even know I had," was Shawn's first reaction. Y'know, after the horrible screaming panic.

"Uh, anyone here?"

[cityship]

||I am here.||

Hey Shawn! How do you feel about head voices?

[metalbent.livejournal.com]

Toph Bei-Fong was a generally adaptable kid. She'd always had the earth, ubiquitous and strong, to help her see. And she was like earth in that she was headstrong and stubborn. It didn't take a lot to get her frightened.

However, waking up wearing nothing but what felt like the leftovers from one of Appa's headcolds, with no earth to be seen or felt, actually was scary.

She wondered where the others were. "Sokka? Twinkle Toes? Where are you guys? Where are we? I can't see a thing!" Her voice, normally cocksure and belligerent, now sounded shaky and nervous.

And the silence she got in response was completely unnerving.

""

[cityship]

||You seem distressed, Toph,|| a voice observed. Toph was probably lucky she couldn't see the tentacle and needle combination detaching itself from the wall, but she could probably hear it just fine. ||Would you care for a mild sedative?||

[risingfury.livejournal.com]

Konoko had seen many things in her life. Violence, psychotic scientists, crazy cult followers, and your occasional pedophile along the route. It was an officer's life.

This? Never in a million years would she have predicted being shoved into the cold world covered in slime of all things. Coughing up whatever could be in her lungs - please don't let that be someone's spit - and stumbled to her feet. Purple hair plastered itself to her forehead and face, feeling unnatural and sticky. She tried unsticking it first with no luck, and opened her eyes.

If she was a newborn child, she would have howled.

What she did, in reality, was no different.

"Hello!? Where am I? Anyone here?" she called loudly. Nearly slipping on the green juices, she grumbled. "This isn't funny!"

[cityship]

||You are in the Pod Caverns,|| a voice answered her. ||I am here. There nothing that was intended to be humorous.||

Psychic voice says hello!

[tobiasf.livejournal.com]

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<ahh...whoa...what?>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<ahh...whoa...what?>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

< Ahh...whoa...what? >

He was damp and slimy, which totally grossed both his human and hawk halves. In this form, everyone else towered above him, and he had to keep moving around to avoid getting stepped on, since there was no way he was flying anywhere soon.

< Where am I? We...? I seriously hope this isn't a blade ship. Marco? Ax? Jake? Cassie? Rachel? > he called out. < Or is this a dome ship? > He didn't see any Andalites though yet.

< Someone better do some explaining fast...I don't have a Xena mode like Rachel, but I don't like being played with either. > He hauled himself to one side, trying desperately to clean the goo off his feathers. < Yuck. > He was cautious about morphing because he didn't know what he might be getting into or who might see him.

[cityship]

||You are in the Pod Caverns.||

It's not quite like thought-speak, but it's close!

||This is not a Blade Ship. There is no one by that name on the active crew registry. Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, currently designated as 'Phillip' by request, is currently located in the Observation Deck. There is no one by that name on the active crew registry. There is no one by that name on the active crew registry. There is no one by that name on the active crew registry. This is not a Dome Ship.||

Late podpop is late ish?! [Was told to post here, if inconvinient I can redo somewhere else]

[neomite.livejournal.com]

The dream worked on her unmercifully, reaching into her subconscious, to find a strange but willing muse. Finding her eyes glued to the swirling colored pool in front of her, a face formed. A real face, its features distorted from weeks of dwelling in its watery grave and its skin contorted, reflecting an unnatural light from within. It’s cavity of a mouth unexpectedly opened malevolently, and forced Eve to push back against the weightless tide. She screamed, barely able to push herself out of harms way.

A flash of memory from within the gaping maw suddenly fractured into a dozen pieces. Hanging over a precipice, thick golden water below, a man telling her to run, a woman injured, dots glistening in the blue sky, falling to earth. It was then she opened her eyes, her real eyes and with hands cradling the sides of her head she fell from the pod like structure with a graceless ‘plop’.

Lifting up her head slowly, a peculiar soured aroma reminiscent of culture medium invaded her nostrils. She shuddered as the smell and cold seeping through exposed skin overloaded her senses. Her mitochondria, while working on the problem didn’t like it one bit. Eve wasn’t too fond of the sensation either, especially when it attached itself to something much more threatening, something not too far away.

She assumed as of the room came into view and she was able to sit up of her own accord, that the great expanse was still part of Neo-Ark. But then, why couldn’t she feel Aya? Why were the large ovoid structures looming scarily around her? Why didn’t anything feel in any way familiar?.

Without answers, Eve clung to herself, naked, wet and confused, sad blue eyes darting from pod to pod in search of an answer.

Re: Late podpop is late ish?! [Was told to post here, if inconvinient I can redo somewhere else]

[cityship]

||Hello, Eve.|| The distinctly female voice seems to be coming from inside her head.

[oneiropompuppet.livejournal.com]

Penelope wipes slime from her face and eyes, rising to her knees. Once she can see, she gasps, no longer trying to get to her feet.

Taken again. It may be damp outside, but it's nothing compared to the cold that grows inside her. Silly puppet. She thought she'd escaped.

She curls on the floor, legs pressed against her chest by shaking arms, heaving great breaths that would be sobs, if she were crying. People - some more normal than others - leave their pods. Penelope watches long enough to see that they're strangers. After that, she doesn't truly see them.

She always thought she would run if she ever faced the fae again. She had even thought she would fight. (Classic comfort delusion.)

She can barely breathe (symptom of anxiety attack). She wishes she could breathe.

[cityship]

A tentacle appears from the wall, bearing a needle. A feminine voice speaks up. ||You appear distressed. Would you care for a sedative?||

[primal-eve.livejournal.com]

What a peculiar feeling. This was certainly not the situation the being had remembered herself being in. Hadn't she just been locked in a battle for survival of the fittest only a few moments ago...?

But something was distinctly not right. Perhaps it was the sensation of wetness from the goo that had once enveloped her...her senses lagging a bit. After a few moments of laying there like a fish, her mouth opening and shutting with a few gasps of air, she finally opened her eyes.

Pale pink lips pursed into a thin, round 'o' of surprise as her gaze darted to and fro about her new surroundings...unsteady hands pressed against the slimy floor in an attempt to sit up. She shudders for a moment, her eyes momentarily rolling back into her head.

Oh dear.

She could almost feel the magnitude of life that surrounded her. Hmm.

Pulling herself up to a stand carefully, she wiggled her toes in the mush and likewise wiggled her fingers in front of her face. Peculiar. She hadn't been in such a...humanoid form...at least, last she remembered.

"...intriguing..." The single word is mumbled more to herself than anyone else, odd blue-green eyes again scanning the area in an attempt to catalog and understand what this place was and who was around...and, in general, what was going on.

[cityship]

||Hello Eve.|| The voice was feminine, and a little bit inside her head.

Oh dear indeed.