cityship: (Default)
cityship ([personal profile] cityship) wrote in [community profile] trans_92010-06-01 02:42 pm

Pod 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 Initiating|| 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] celery-brooch.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
One understands that, yes, time is a fluid substance. It can be manipulated, shaped, turned in on itself, rolled back, sped forward—even destroyed, given the determination. And yes, one also knows that there are many sorts of oddities that can occur should time be handled incorrectly, a whole multitude of paradoxes unexplored simply because they are erased the moment they are created. One can even assume that a single paradox may accidentally lead to other such paradoxes until the first is fixed, or something else is satisfied and the situation is, thus, corrected.

But this was just ridiculous.

The Doctor was lying on his side, curled up about as tightly as his frame would allow, covered in the obligatory layer of slime and nothing else, unmoving, and looking quite uncomfortable despite the softness of the fleshy floor supporting him. Of course it wasn’t really the floor that was bothering him—it was this whole situation, this nasty taste in his mouth and this sudden rush of vertigo and this voice that called itself Stacy, who is apparently also the ship in which he was currently stored, but really, none of that was registering, not yet. The Doctor’s innate sense of time was off to an incalculable degree wherein it was making his head quite fuzzy, though considering the circumstances this outcome was inevitable regardless of possible fluxes in the fourth dimension.

So—first things first (apart from the obvious and the already explained). Who was he? The same fellow as before? Everything seemed in order so far as he could tell—hair was roughly the same length and consistency, build was about right, all the usual landmarks were accounted for—but it was worth the check, even if moving out of his previous position hadn’t been accomplished instead. Said examination also helped to refocus his mind, get him back on track, set up some new priorities, remind him of a few relevant details.

Speaking of which. “Tegan? Nyssa?”

Somehow he didn’t expect a reply from either party, because there was always that third option that, simply because of its pure absurdity, actually better explained this whole thing. Thus he attempted that one next:

“…Doctor?”

…Heh. As if that would happen…

[identity profile] genociding.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Everything was fuzzy.

Euphemia laid on the floor for a few long moments, trying to gather her bearings after finding herself somewhere strange, on a warm, pulsing platform, covered in... something disgusting. She shivered as she finally sat up, pushing her once-flowing and beautiful but now-sticky and goopy hair out of her face.

She heard the voice-that-wasn't-a-voice, but she could only half understand what it was saying. There was something... something important she had to do. Wasn't there?

No, she couldn't. It was something best left un-done. She wouldn't, she couldn't...

She finally stood up and looked around.

Her mission. She struggled, trying to fight it, to ignore it. But could she? It all depended, now, on who had woken up beside her.

[identity profile] sin-and-misery.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 09:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Vader couldn't breathe.

He coughed as he fell to the floor, hard, clawing his way forward through muck and slime. Something, clearly, had gone wrong. His lightsaber was gone, the suit that had been keeping him alive was gone- he weakly swatted at the tentacles around him, wondering what fresh hell this was. Clearly he'd been captured, perhaps by some Jedi faction (which would explain the voices within his head), perhaps by the Black Sun, but for now his only goals were to locate and kill every being responsible for his current situation.

[identity profile] dearest-nehaa.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Nehaalista was one prone to panicking only when absolutely necessary, and, as she looked up and around the cavern she was so rudely deposited into, panic seemed like a logical conclusion.

Light help me, she thought, trying to remove the goop from her person. I've turned into one of those crazy, naked idiots from Stormwind. She looked around, her tail twitching, the unmistakable feeling of something oozing from between her hooves making her antsy and twitchy. It took quite a bit of willpower to not think about how the goop she'd just come out of had ruined her hair.

Instinctively, she reached out to the Light, and felt it respond. Relief flooded through her, even as Stacy continued to explain. So, she wants me to go... that way. I guess. Good, good. I can do that... Nehaalista straightened her shoulders and started walking.

[identity profile] carrycorpses.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Panic. That was the first thing that registered through Riza's mind as the world lurched and she was freed of the pod. Pure panic, and all things considered this was a reasonable thing. She was not in Central, and the last she remembered happened to be defending her Colonel from a devastating blast from the one who called himself 'Father'. And now? Well, now, we know the story of where she was and the soldier couldn't help but let the swift, uneasy panic rush over her mind. After years spent with alchemists and the like you think one would be used to this sort of thing, but that was not the case.

However much she wanted to panic, on the surface Riza kept calm. She always kept calm, the levelheaded one of the situation when it came to herself and the Colonel. That wouldn't change even as she mumbled to her self, moved slowly in the slime--well aware that she was nude, something she had never been around others. (Save the man she entrusted her back and its secrets too.) She hoped the slime, whatever it may have been, at least covered up the scarred pieces of her alchemy crazed father to the open eye.

Breathing in the taste made her face scrunch, but she shook her head to ward it off. And then she questioned, the answer in response not making the woman at all too happy. She didn't care about being here, and the words were ones she kept in mind, with a small natural frown. Whatever was going on one thought registered to the bodyguard's mine; she had to find the Colonel no matter the circumstances. He was blind and it was her duty to protect him as she always had, save the fact she didn't know if he was here. To her mind, he had to be.

And that idea was the woman's drive as she moved after the cleaning and the... body suit. (Something that was with almost a tinge of familiarity due to her surveillance work.) Well aware that without a gun on her she was a liability to the man anyway. Whatever this was, she didn't know if she believed it, if they wanted her to fight they sure as hell better gave her a sniper rifle back and lead her to the man she was protecting. That was the end of the story. Quietly, without questioning, solemnly she stood and peered around the area. The sniper in her disliking the movement against her feet and the surrounding area. This was wrong.
Edited 2010-06-01 22:34 (UTC)

[identity profile] deadforawhile.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Marcus Wright wakes up on the floor of somewhere very unfamiliar, covered in something he'd really rather not be covered in, for the second time this week. "Oh, you have got to be f%cking kidding me." he mutters, wiping pod-goo out of his eyes. It's not spectacularly effective, mostly because his hands are also covered in goop, but at least he can see now. The lack of dead bodies nearby is a pleasant change, as is the lack of people trying to kill him-- for the moment, anyway. He could worry about where he was and what the voice in his head said later (destroyers of worlds? Great Purpose?); now would be a good time to find other people and some clothes.

This is really not his week.

[identity profile] icy-alderaanian.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
She had been asleep, dreaming of walking a beach that had been atomized twenty-one years ago, with her parents - her mother, dead for as long, and her father, who had died four years before that. For a moment, as it changed, she clung to a hope that the dream had simply soured.

But Winter was enough of a realist to know better than that.

Standing a little shakily, without worrying too much about nudity - she'd served for long enough that modesty was a luxury, and if the people around her would be scarred by looking at a well-preserved forty-year-old, that was their problem - she tried to compare her surroundings to the thousands of architectural styles she'd seen before. Plenty had similarities, but none of them were even close.

She glanced around at the people picking themselves up, or already standing, around her.

[identity profile] silky-doll.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:19 pm (UTC)(link)
It was not the first time Sylia could remember waking up without knowing where she was or what had happened to her. It was the first time she had done so naked and coming to consciousness lying on the floor in a puddle of slime.

It was also the first time the floor and walls around her were breathing, and felt like some kind of cross between flesh and metal that only brought one thought screeching to mind for her-- Boomer. She was naked and defenseless and alone and this was a Boomer.

It was understandable, then, that she was screaming in hysterical panic and crawling into the nearest corner-like area as soon as she was awake.

[identity profile] favoredfire.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)
The humidity didn't prevent Leia from breaking out into a cold sweat.

This sense of entrapment was too familiar. She couldn't run away from the disembodied voice booming in her head. Panic gave way to shock. Leia was curled into herself, lying there, not willing to move; not willing to let her body admit that this wasn't a nightmare.

"Am..." she stopped as soon as she got the first word out. (It hadn't woken her. That's all she needed to know.)

Her last memory took place in the middle of the night. She couldn't sleep, and was pacing outside the Falcon on Endor, a man's sleep clothes wrapped around her. Her mind had been relaxed with fresh, night air and she'd boarded the ramp back inside to his-- their?-- bunk.

Had someone seen her? Did they think she was an easy target? Leia shut her eyes in shame; if that's how she'd been brought on board, then she obviously was. But no; she'd made it into bed safe and sound. How did this happen?

Muscles clenching, she stood up.

[identity profile] changelingdude.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)
"Dude..."

That was all Beastboy could manage for the time being. Everything was happening so fast after all.

First the snot and the naked and the heat and the robo mommy voice and the suit that feels like it's a few seconds away from groping him and now...champion? Whut?

Still he was handling things with his usual Beastboy flare which is to say...not at all gracefully. Brushing off any and all concern about what was going on he decided to test his suit for shapeshifting abilities turning into various animals to see if the suit would break or go with him.

[identity profile] on-an-impulse.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)
For a disoriented moment in the warm humidity, some tactile memory told him that he was back at the beaches of Onogoro, where the air hung wet and heavy and hot before summer storms. Had he fallen in the water? His mouth tasted of salt and something was shifting beneath him like tides at the very edge of the sea, but –

But that didn’t make any sense.

Shinn blinked his eyes open, wiping something slimy off his face. It wasn’t waves moving below him; it was the ground. And above – it was like staring at one of the PLANTs from the bottom of a maintenance shaft, watching pedways and rising and disappearing into a ceiling too far to see, except that the architecture was nothing like the colonies. Instead of precise lines and fluorescent lighting, there were organic curves and dips, all green-tinged in the weird light. It definitely wasn’t Onogoro -- or anywhere else he’d been.

He bolted to his feet, hands balling into fists, mind racing with a thousand variations on where fuck why how dammit when the voice spoke.

She imparted a sense of reassurance he hadn’t felt in years, something he couldn’t put a finger on. The affection in that voice was tangible as sunlight, as calming as the vaulting room was eerie, and he found that he loved that voice, too. As long as she was speaking, it didn’t seem to strange to be dressed by tentacles or to gather the small pink phone off a shelf of assorted keepsakes or make his way to a larger chamber.

When she stopped talking, however, all bets were off.

He shook his head as though physically casting off the daze he’d slipped into. Without Stacy speaking, a few facts became painfully clear: he’d been in some sort of stasis, there were tentacles that put clothes on people, and he had no idea where in the world or stars he was.

“What the hell just happened?”

[identity profile] sin-and-misery.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Vader knows that presence.

Inch by agonizing inch, he makes his way towards the familiar presence-- Padme? Of course not. It does not help that he cannot see, sound comes to him in confusing waves, and he feels nothing but the slow shut down of all his systems.

He grabs something he assumes is an ankle.

[identity profile] favoredfire.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Leia shrieks, not even noticing the fleshy, burnt monster that's been crawling toward her until now. Her heart skips a beat.

She doesn't know what's going on, but this creature needs medical attention.

"Stay still," her voice shakes. "Save your energy."

[identity profile] rekindle.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Her head was like a drum, beating, almost pounding, lightly in a rhythmic tempo. She could feel the ground beneath her pulsating almost in sync, but she was too out of sorts for it to fully register right then. It was for the best; that might have made things weirder than they already were. Cagalli laid there with her eyes closed for what seemed like an eternity, trying to get her bearings.

The first thing the girl noticed was the smell of the surrounding area. It was hard to describe offhand, yet her mind was able to connect it to how soldiers often smelled (and probably felt) after a long, hard battle. Taste was discovered immediately after when she opened her mouth to breathe better. Nothing but salt and a little dry mouth. Pleasant.

Slowly, she rolled over on to her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows, inhaling slowly, making sure to keep the goop out of her mouth. Eyes opened cautiously, taking in the surrounding area.

Things came into focus a little bit at a time. Not that there was much to see besides the pods, of course, but those were enough to make her eyes widen slightly.

After a little staring, Cagalli began to get to her feet, albeit a little unsteadily.
Edited 2010-06-01 22:51 (UTC)

[identity profile] frisbeesofdoom.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"Damn, I look good."

The voice carries out of his particular pod-y cave-y thing, Axel grinning way too enthusiastically for being naked and covered in a strange, sticky substance. Long-fingered, agile hands settle on his hips, eyes fixed on his pretty, sculpted abs, and it takes a moment for him to look adequately baffled that the floor was moving.

"Damn, that's weird."

He crouches, prodding at the matter below his feet, feeling the slight give of... what honestly looks like plant matter. Curiouser and curiouser. He promptly has a jovial conversation with the voice in his head -- some lady named Stacy.

Intrigued, a head of flaming red hair -- with an angular, green-eyed face attached -- pokes around the corner, short eyebrows lifting.

"Hello?"

[identity profile] favoredfire.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Leia stared intently -- this woman was a dead-ringer for her best friend, except for the age. She shook her head, even more confused than before.

"Winter?"

[identity profile] sin-and-misery.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Vader tried to speak again, but ended up hacking and sputtering.

"Who do you...work for?" he wheezed, but the wasted air took far more energy than he had anticipated.

[identity profile] short-changed.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
SPLAT.

With a heavy gooey thud, Ed landed with an ungainly thump. He groaned and pushed himself up reflexively, only to discover that his arm and leg were missing. All that sat there was the connections which were bare.

"What... the... hell..."

Shaking his long loose hair out of his eyes, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Analyze now, freak out next. Yeah that was good.

[identity profile] chattybroad.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Ugh, gross. Maybe not the most profound of first thoughts in this situation, but a fitting one. Amelia pushed herself up from the floor into a sitting position. She paused when she heard the weird voice, but it didn't make much sense. Was it a Spirit? But she couldn't feel any Spirits nearby...

She shoved her hair out of her eyes (guh-roooooss this was going to take forever to wash out) and looked around the dizzying cavern. She closed her eyes, turned on her Spiritalker's Sight, and took another look.

It only made things more dizzying. Swirls of blue and green spiraled into infinity, with tiny dots of other colours marking other figures in the distance. She turned off her Sight before it triggered a migraine.

She set her hands on the floor to push herself to her feet, and that was when she realized she was completely naked.

When you're from a society that considers bare shoulders vulgar, that kind of thing comes as a shock. She screamed, pressed herself back against the nearest vertical surface, and curled up in an attempt to preserve as much modesty as she could.

[identity profile] favoredfire.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Anger rose up. She just wanted to help despite needing it herself.

"It doesn't matter," she hissed. "You're deathly ill."

There had to be a medcenter or-- or something, if their captors were merciful.

[identity profile] changelingdude.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Unfortunately for him, the first person to notice the furious old man was someone who likely could qualify for "Most likely to get force choked" in the yearbook.

"Dude are you OK? I mean...well you don't look so hot!" Beastboy scurried over showing a complete lack of "A: Common sense and B: A sense of self preservation."

[identity profile] genociding.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Euphemia heard the shriek, and turned quickly to see who was there.

A Britannian girl. Was she hurt? That clinched it; for now, all thoughts of what she had to do were pushed to one side. She had to help, if she could. Belatedly, Euphie realized she was also nude, but that came secondary to figuring out what this was, and what was the matter with this other girl.

She positioned her arms awkwardly, folded in front of herself so as to hide those three most embarrassing areas, and moved closer. "What's the matter? Are you injured?" Euphie's voice was wrought with worry. "Please, talk to me..."

[identity profile] icy-alderaanian.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Winter's heart leaped. Leia - but under the goo she was barely half the age she should be, and... was she a clone? Was Winter a clone? Terrible thought.

She'd have to consider it. There had been studies made about how clones couldn't perfectly impersonate their templates. If she was a clone, she wasn't sure how she'd know, but if Leia was -

"Princess Leia," she said with a calmness she didn't entirely feel. As if they were meeting outside of the Senate chambers. "I've never heard of Stacy. You?"

[identity profile] gunslinging.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Sometimes things went a little crazy on what should've been a routine mission, and any Hunter worth his weight in titanium-x knew it. The reinforcements that intelligence hadn't picked up on, the environmental hazards that your spotter didn't catch fast enough to warn you about, those occasional (though thankfully rare) times when one routine mission suddenly ended in eight much bigger ones, yet another fight with Sigma, and the whole thing going down in the books as the latest full-blown Maverick Uprising.

And hey, sometimes you even woke up not remembering how the hell you'd gone from doing a backflip off the nearest vertical surface and dishing out the pain to the latest public enemy to...well, being in a situation that would require waking up from in the first place. (Axl tried to avoid those. Being stuck in medical with Lifesaver for a babysitter was never any fun.)

But even if he'd managed to take one in the back (unlikely but possible) or miss his landing (flat out not happening, he had pride to worry about, after all), he'd be waking up in medical.

Not in a freaky pulsing cavern, covered in...

...yeah, Axl wasn't sure he wanted to think about just what that stuff was.

It didn't look like X or Zero was around, but if they were, he could almost guess what the first thing they'd say to him was -- and the answer came like a reflex. "Whatever just happened, I didn't do it."

[identity profile] sin-and-misery.livejournal.com 2010-06-01 10:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Only bad things can happen to good people, it seems. Vader only happens to good people.

Vader tried to touch the Force, to reach out into it and squeeze the life from any being that would dare torment him while he was in this state, but found his grip on it...tenuous. Slippery. He chose instead to grasp blindly about with his physical hand, looking for something to choke.

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