trans_9 | (no subject)

Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There was condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in oblong glowing things that were clustered along the floors and walls of the huge, ancient-looking caverns.

For now, the ones that were cracking were the closest to the floor, but perhaps later, the figures sliding out of the pods would be sliding out onto the slimy walkways and platforms above.

Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiissss.

There was light, and unconscious minds breaking through the top of the briny, harsh waters of consciousness, as their bodies did similarly and broke free from the pods, sliding to the floor, shivering in pools of slime.

Once the temporary blindness that some of them had passed, and once they were free of their sleepy stupors: somebody had some splainin' to do.

But there would be no explanations, as the only thing that could explain was only watching, silently, almost as a mother would look at their child right after it was born.

Pop. KASCHUNKhissss.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

||I am--|| Sam would feel a burst of sensation -- emotion -- in his head. Honor, maternal love, and duty, all mixed and blended together until they were nearly indistinguishable from each other. ||The closest approximation for humanoid vocal chords is STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT. You may call me Stacy.||

A pause.

||You are in the Clothing Room.||

Very literal, our Stacy.

"Riiiight, the 'Clothing Room,'" Sam said with blatant sarcasm. He looked around the room and the long, touchy-feely tentacles of...whatever. "Obviously."

Shaking his head, he lifted his eyes back toward the ceiling. "Ok...'Stacy,'" he said, turning his attention back to the 'voice.' "What'd you do with Dean?"

There was no other possible explanation for Dean's disappearance. Sam hadn't been awake more than ten minutes, twenty max, and this 'Stacy' chick had already proved to him that she had to be the one running the show, which meant she knew where his brother was.

||There is no 'Dean' on the active roster at this time.|| Stacy replied.

The silence stretched.

That was apparently all the answer she was going to give him at this point.

"Then where is he?" Sam demanded to know.

||Individuals who are not on the active roster are still in podsleep, dead, incapacitated, or have simply not been taken.||

Option #2 kind of sucks.

Sam felt his heart drop at the mention of the word 'dead.' There's no way. Dean wasn't dead. It wasn't possible. Sam's mind was so focused the possibility that Dean, his brother, the annoying pain in the ass that had been looking after him since Sam was six-months old, was gone that he nearly missed 'Stacy' say something about being 'taken.' "Taken?" Sam asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "What do you mean 'taken'?"

||You and the others have been Chosen.|| Stacy answered. There was almost emotion there. Seriousness.

But that was all to her response.

"Great," Sam scoffed with a quick roll of his eyes. "Like I've never heard that before." What was with him and being 'chosen'? First old Yellow-Eyes feeds Sam blood when he was six months old, 'choosing' him for God-knows-what...and now this. Just as he was about to push further about his being 'chosen' and why, he stopped. Considering how Yellow Eyes had been less that forthcoming with his explanations, 'Stacy' was most likely to be just as cryptic, especially given the vagueness of all her 'answers' thus far.

"All right," Sam shrugged, deciding that, for the time being, it was best to play along, if only to get more information down the road. "Where to next?"

||After the Clothing Room, the other podlings proceeded to the Possessions and Weapons Locker.|| Stacy said. ||I can show you the way, if you wish.||

"Yeah, sure," Sam answered with a defeated shrug.

The pustules on the floor outside of the Clothing Room lit up again, leading him around the structure to another door. This one opened to reveal a cramped-looking tube.

||The Hub will take you where you want to go.|| Stacy informed him.