cityship: (Default)
cityship ([personal profile] cityship) wrote in [community profile] trans_92010-04-01 07:04 pm

Snap, Crackle, and POP

[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 phosphorescenet 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] maguspuparum.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
There were about a million reasons for Evangeline to be pissed right now, though they were mostly consequences of and could be expediently reduced to one: she'd been abducted by aliens.

You got a unique perspective when you were a few hundred years old, seeing multiple epochal changes in human society and technology. Recently they'd been coming faster and faster and soon it'd probably be completely normal, but she'd had nice, big chunks of time in which to digest them so she was at an advantage regardless. She was used to the idea that things changed and old ways of life just got wiped out forever, casually as she'd snap your average dead god's neck. Around the time she'd gotten in the business of cutting deals with martian time criminals for technology from the stars she'd sworn she was done being surprised by what the future held forever.

This crap was still kind of jarring. Like waking up with a hangover in Zeus' own sinuses. The hangover part might have been her fault, though, if alcohol stayed in your system while you were in storage in some kind of goo-pod.

At any rate, she actually needed to mull this one over for a bit. She'd never actually thought about this kind of thing, but she'd generally have assumed that if any aliens had abducted her it would be the last mistake they'd ever make. And she'd have a spaceship to cruise around in in short order. That would have been amusing, in the slightly ironic way someone arrogant choosing a target poorly generally was.

This, if the telepathic broadcast could be believed, was actually something a lot funnier. They hadn't just abducted her, they'd taken her to be some kind of champion. Some kind of hero.

Only one good reaction to that.

Laugh. And laugh loud.