cityship: (Default)
cityship ([personal profile] cityship) wrote in [community profile] trans_92010-02-01 04:23 pm

Once You Pop, The Fun Don't Stop!

[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | Instructions: Post your character with one post establishing them as being podpopped. Tag each other in groups of 2's, 3's, and 4's, to get some interaction to start with. If a thread doesn't already have 2 or 3 people tagged in, tag it with your character's podpop popping near the other people, rather than making a new subthread. If you would like to play out them talking to the AI, please send an email to the mods making the request--we do this only by request. Then move onto the big Newbie Meeting. Once your character has gotten the rundown from the old crew, you may start posting entrance posts and freely tagging.]


||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounds out to all the podmates through the ship.

In the Pod Caverns, there are the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There is condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slide out onto the floors, covered in slime.

--


There was nothing. You were going about your normal life, then there was a bright light, and then? Nothing.

Then the world lurches.

The chamber here is humid.

Actually, "chamber" isn't quite accurate. You're in a cavern, half-lit by an eerie greenish light, going on and on as far as the eye can see. The light is coming from what can only be described as pods, glistening, round greenish-yellow things, glowing with a pale inner light, outlining human -- and not quite human -- forms. Each is rooted to the floor, to the walls, with something black, twisted, and unidentifiable.

They line the walls of the cavern, go up in maddeningly high columns, curling and corkscrewing up into the darkness, until the light from them is like that of the stars, glowing pale and mournful in clusters in the darkness above. Twisted walkways and stairs crisscross, traverse the platforms in front of the pods, wending their way back and forth, up and down through the chamber.

You just came from one of those pods, broke free like a butterfly from a (slimy, nasty) chrysalis.

Now you stand alone but not quite alone, naked, not knowing how you got there, who took you, or why you were taken.

As your body heats up again, you realize the air is warm -- just a few degrees too warm to be comfortable -- and muggy; it smells acrid and organic, like freshly spilt blood and sweat. Your mouth tastes of salt.

The floors are pulsing under your feet, throbbing...

Wherever you are, this entire place...is alive.

Oh, and also you're naked and covered in alien snot.

When you call out, ask where you are, a voice speaks to you, in your head. She tells you:

||You are here.||


When you ask who she is, she tells you that her name is STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT, but that you may call her Stacy. When she tells you who she is, there is a gush of emotion, love, maternal warmth. You are on a ship. She is that ship. Her name is Stacy and she loves you. Her voice is warm and motherly, even if these messages sound almost automated.

Glowing phosphorescent lights appear in pustules along the floor. They lead you up a massive spiraling walkway that gives you a view of what are possibly millions in stasis. At the top is a room with moving vines that clean you and clothe you in a plant-like body-suit--soft, but durable. After that, the lights lead you to a great cavernous room with a clear floor that lets you see all the holes and tunnels in the walls of it. When you reach the center, the last thing she tells you before whisking you away to gather your belongings and meet the rest of the crew is this reassuring thought:

||You have been Chosen to accomplish a Great Purpose. You have been Chosen to help fight the Ohm, a race of insectoid beings that are the destroyers of worlds.||

||You have been Chosen as champions of life, as protectors of the worlds and peoples that are left. The others are waiting for you. They will explain everything.||


She will tell you nothing more. Your answers lie with these "others" she speaks of.

[identity profile] proffesorcrisis.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 09:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Isaac was taking this all pretty much in stride. He'd gone to sleep nude on the shore of Strack island anyway. That the Weaver would transport him elsewhere and cover him with slime did not surprise him in the least. So far, on a scale of horror for Weaver-encounters, this was well below average.

"Weaver? What can I do for you?" He called to the walls.

[identity profile] givememysamples.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"My name isn't Weaver, but you can start by telling me what exactly this is all about," comes a short, snappy reply from an older and very nude woman. She's got an arm folded over her chest to try and preserve some modesty.

[identity profile] proffesorcrisis.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Isaac was a gentleman. Well not so technically, he was actually on the high end of the proletariat scale of his home city, being a mercenary-scientist. But he certainly wasn't going to oggle a lady who didn't wish to be. So he averted his eyes, staring at the eerie pods, open and gushing like strange eggs.

"Ma'am, i'm afraid I don't know. The last time I went to sleep, I was set to make a deal with a giant transdimensional spider though and this is the exact kind of thing it would do just to...amuse itself."

[identity profile] givememysamples.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 09:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"Transdimensional spider. Well, after the biological computer network, I'm ready to believe anything."

Grace frowned, "So where the Hell are we?"

[identity profile] proffesorcrisis.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'm afraid for all my scientific pretensions, I don't know that either. I do know we should probably move on though." He awkwardly tried to signal her to follow him while not actually looking at her. The resulting gestures might or might not have actually been anywhere near her direction. "By the way, what's a computer?"

[identity profile] givememysamples.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
She's prepared to follow him. She took a few steps and then glanced at him, "...you don't know what a computer is?"

[identity profile] proffesorcrisis.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Isaac, who was looking every which way but at anyone else, did not notice the puzzled look. "I understand 'to compute' as a verb, but if you're implying some kind of device, i'm not at all familiar with it...Which means it must be pretty obscure."

[identity profile] givememysamples.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 10:25 pm (UTC)(link)
"Obscure? They're one of the most popular devices in the world. It's a machine that... well... computes. They allow us to record and store raw data, play games, do just about anything you can think of with them. Hell, we use them to do calculations human beings can't!"

Yeah, you're kinda weird.

[identity profile] proffesorcrisis.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Ah, a calculation engine. I've seen a few of those. Not my specialty, but I can certainly see their usefulness. Where are you from, ma'am, that such constructs are so common?" Isaac's way of speaking may have sounded oddly formal but for his psuedo-Victorian world, it was quite casual.

[identity profile] givememysamples.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 10:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"...they're a staple of everyday life, really. I'm from Earth. The United States of America. Where the hell are you from?"

Pretty much everyone in the world knew what a computer was. Get with program, Isaac.

[identity profile] proffesorcrisis.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"New Crobuzon on Bas Lag, and i've never heard of that place or nation. I have a hunch things are about to get a lot stranger..." Though whether he was reffering to that revelation or the tentacles they were coming up on was hard to tell.

[identity profile] givememysamples.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
"Whoa, hold on-"

And then she cleaned and clothed. She flexed her fingers, trying to settle down. Life on Pandora had told her to be wary of such things.

"...funny. I've never heard of Crobuzon or Bas Lag either."