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] modelscientist.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
"Shepard!" There's a bit of relief in Mordin's voice. He's not completely alone in a strange situation (not that that hasn't happened before). More importantly, it's Shepard. With Shepard here, any obstacle they need to overcome have just gotten a little less imposing.

"Glad to see you in one piece."

[identity profile] blood-on-torfan.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
Hearing one of the voices get louder, Shepard turned her head to face the on-comer. He was just another blur to her and the voice amongst the garble was exactly familiar. Her eyebrows knitted together, trying her best to figure out what he was saying or maybe let those words sink in. It was already taking way too long for there to be a normal response, but she was still trying to figure it out.

[identity profile] modelscientist.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
Mordin crouched next to the nude woman and moved to help her stand. Damn his lack of omnitool. It was obvious, even without it, that she was disoriented and perhaps suffering from other symptoms.

"Shepard. Concentrate on my voice."

[identity profile] blood-on-torfan.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
Shepard was being lifted up now, this person or thing had taken her arm and pulled her to her feet. It was a little weird to feel the muscles in your own legs tighten and help support your own weight. It wasn't something people normally felt or care to feel, but holy shit was it weird feeling it. She momentarily stared down at her feet, a part of her curious if they were going to do something besides stand there.

'Shepard.' That was her name. Commander Jane Shepard. Her first name was a namesake of her grandmother's. Someone was calling her name and her gaze rose up to look at the person who spoke. 'Concentrate on my voice.'

That's when it hit her. Shepard yanked her away her arm, taking a few steps back as she shook the disoriented feeling from her mind. Her left hand came up to pinch the bridge of her nose as everything started to rush back to her.

"W-What...W-Where..." She shook her blond head again, accidentally throwing droplets of slime in every direction before finally standing completely straight. She was more alert now, or at least a lot more cognitive. "I-I'm fine. Fine."

[identity profile] modelscientist.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 02:35 am (UTC)(link)
"Good. Need you to be at your best. Situation may be dire. Uncertain at best." Mordin explained, already looking around the room for a possible avenue of escape.

"Seem to be aboard an alien craft of unknown origin. Not collectors, despite similar aesthetics. Must retrieve weaponry, clothing if possible. You seem to suffering from disorientation. Concussion? Maybe."

[identity profile] blood-on-torfan.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
"...if I do have a concussion, explaining everything under a minute isn't helping it." chided the commander's usual bluntness. She was definitely feeling more of herself than earlier.

While she didn't recognize the voice, it certainly did sound Salarian. Which...didn't really help much if they were aboard a foreign vessel. They might as well be captives. She raised her head to ask another question when..oh, Not just a Salarian but a naked one. That uh, that wasn't something she wanted see to be quite honest with herself. She was naked too, and with a small jump, her arm swung around to cover her chest.

Trying her best to not think to hard on her new discoveries, she cleared her throat and did her best to glance away from Mordin. Hopefully one of the first questions coming to mind will ease some of the uncomfortableness. "Not to be rude, but how exactly do you know my name? Have we met?"

[identity profile] modelscientist.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
That brought the scientist up short. Shepard didn't know him. The injury must be worse than he suspected. He absently nodded the modesty concerning mammaries, remembered that most sapient humanoid mammals seemed to possess this trait, then moved on, already formulating his reply.

"Doctor Mordin Solus. Aided you in mission to track down, defeat the Collectors. You have no memory of this?"

[identity profile] blood-on-torfan.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
Shepard would try to be completely modest, but that would just make being naked in front of an equally naked Salarian even more awkward. Let's move on to more important matters though, shall we?

She shook her head at Mordin, doing her best to tap into the almost ever-mangled mind of hers. "Doesn't ring a bell and can't say I heard of the collectors either. Are they working for the Reapers?"

[identity profile] modelscientist.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 03:28 am (UTC)(link)
A nod. Shepard was a sharp one, even if she doesn't remember this sort of thing.

"Yes. Abducting humans, using genetic material to build, spawn new Reaper. Disturbing. Stopped them of course."

[identity profile] blood-on-torfan.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
It was more than troubling to know that she was missing a sizable chunk of her memory and that she had apparently didn't recognize a member of her crew. that lead to two things: A.) Something was physically wrong with her B.) The Salarian was lying and was trying to gain trust he hadn't earned yet.

For now, she'll work with the former. They first needed to find out about the place around them and why they were the-

that's when Stacy started speaking to her. Calling the notion that a ship was speaking inside your head troubling was a monster of understatements. It never happened to Shepard personally before, but that only meant one thing.

"...We're on a Reaper ship." She muttered under her breath. It was so very hard not to shake in fear of such a conclusion.

[identity profile] modelscientist.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 04:39 am (UTC)(link)
"I do not believe so. Inconsistent with previous actions. why would Reapers seek to capture you? Or if they did, why capture me also? Much more important to have you dead." Mordin did his best to reassure her, even if it really wasn't all that much. He wasn't going to let Shepard start freaking out on him, after all.

[identity profile] blood-on-torfan.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 06:57 am (UTC)(link)
"We still don't know what really happens to humans when they're harvested by the Reapers. Hell, not even the Protheans really knew and I have that damn cipher still scrambling my brain. We do know that they 'harvest' all life in the galaxy when they can and this looks pretty close to a harvest to me." Okay, she was panicking a little, but after personally encountering a Reaper twice before actually now currently in one, there was more than enough reason to be a little panicky.

She looked around, doing her part in finding a way out of here. It was a bit of a depressing sight to see so many pulled into the ship like they were.

[identity profile] modelscientist.livejournal.com 2010-04-02 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Perhaps 'Others' mentioned by ship have answers. Best to investigate. No use standing here speculating." As far as Mordin was concerned they'd find the answers somewhere. Besides, then he'd have a chance to look at the ship...