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] caelestine.livejournal.com 2010-02-02 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
One of the nearby pods opens—and one might easily think there was nobody in it. After all, the goop spills out and there's no obvious body... unless a closer look is taken. Somewhere, in the middle of it all, is a little, fuzzy, mouse-sized wild mouse.

A mouse currently coughing on the goop, trying to scramble to its feet.

[identity profile] thewolfdaughter.livejournal.com 2010-02-02 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
San startled at the gush of fluid, bile and slime, then straightened curiously when nothing leapt out to attack. Or worse: they might want to talk. It was during this half-cursory investigation that she spotted the wriggling little mouse, like some forgotten ambassador of the forest.

Well, when you thought of such a thing that way, there was nothing to do, but scoop it out of the gooey puddle and speak to it. San had spoken to mice before; she knew all the speech of the forest, so she lifted the little creature in the palm of her hand and brought it up to her face, where she could see it properly.

"Well, where did you come from?" she asked, as arrogant as anything would be when speaking to something that much smaller than themselves, "You don't belong in the slime."

[identity profile] caelestine.livejournal.com 2010-02-02 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
The poor little mouse trembles in San's hand, as helpless as he would be in the jaws of a wolf. And it might as well be—the smell is on her, still, and as the mouse stirs, his mind is filled with fear fear fear. This—no, it is not a wolf, as his eyes focus, but the smell... He feels like the first day he worked on the scent border, trying to clear the stink out of his nose so that he could sleep without dreaming of things with teeth and claws.

His panic is too much to answer her with words—instead he tries to scramble away from her grip. Agile little thing.

[identity profile] thewolfdaughter.livejournal.com 2010-02-02 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
San jerks, nearly dropping the slippery, scrabbling thing, then she does drop it, and has to lunge to catch it again. Deterred, the wolf princess simply set him on the ground. Rodents, what could you do?

[identity profile] caelestine.livejournal.com 2010-02-03 06:01 am (UTC)(link)
The mouse scrabbles away, trying to find something to hide behind. Curiously, San may notice, it runs on its hind legs, with a hunched but bipedal stance... not that it seems to slow down the little creature any.