cityship: (Stacy--Actual Face)
cityship ([personal profile] cityship) wrote in [community profile] trans_92010-08-01 12:28 pm

Podpop

[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.
shootingblancs: (Gunshy)

[personal profile] shootingblancs 2010-08-01 08:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, now - that was Ozma. The Skull leader was standing in front of him, looking at him in unmistakable surprise (not that Michael really blamed him, of course, given the circumstances). And Michael was still naked. Well, then.

There wasn't much to do but just stand, cross his arms over his chest, and nod. "In the flesh. Where'd you get those clothes, Captain?"

[identity profile] holylonelynight.livejournal.com 2010-08-01 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
First things first. He could figure out why Michael wasn't dead once they could be sure they weren't in any danger.

"That way," he said, jerking his thumb behind him. "It's...a bit of a shock at first, but at least you get clothes out of the deal."
shootingblancs: (Michel does not approve of this)

[personal profile] shootingblancs 2010-08-01 09:07 pm (UTC)(link)
He nodded. "Right. I'll get dressed and we'll see where the other Skulls are."

Of course, shortly afterward he discovered what Ozma had meant by 'shock.' There may or may not have been a short, startled shout coming from the clothing room. But he emerged in one piece, and thankfully dressed - he kept tugging at the plantlike fibers.

"'Shock' is one way of putting it. I could think of a few others."

[identity profile] holylonelynight.livejournal.com 2010-08-01 09:24 pm (UTC)(link)
"...You could say that again," Ozma muttered. It certainly wasn't much compared to seeing your dead squad-mate up and walking around like nothing had happened.

"Let's get moving. I don't want to stick around here too much longer."
shootingblancs: (I see what you did there)

[personal profile] shootingblancs 2010-08-01 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, if you weren't going to bring it up, Ozma, Michael wasn't either. It was strange enough being alive without chatting about it. "You couldn't hide something like this on a colonial island... so we're not on the Frontier. Do you think it's the Vajra?"

[identity profile] holylonelynight.livejournal.com 2010-08-01 10:23 pm (UTC)(link)
"No," Ozma says thoughtfully. "Even this is too big for them. Just look at all these pods. Besides, the war with them is over. They'd have no reason to."

He pauses for a second.

"...Right. You weren't...there...for that, were you?"
shootingblancs: (Genreblind)

[personal profile] shootingblancs 2010-08-01 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Michael paused for considerably longer than a second. "I'm trying not to think about it too much," he answered. He knew he should have been dead, but he didn't feel like a ghost.

"I didn't think you could make peace with a bunch of insects."

[identity profile] holylonelynight.livejournal.com 2010-08-01 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's complicated. I'll fill you in once I'm sure we're safe."

Which was not right now. Not that Ozma is particularly looking forward to it anyway.

"C'mon, that looks like a way out of this cavern," he says, pointing to the entrance to the Hub in the distance.
shootingblancs: (Gunshy)

[personal profile] shootingblancs 2010-08-02 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
So, Ozma thought he was dead, too. That either meant that he'd somehow lived and nobody had known, or ... well, something else that he couldn't really think of at the moment. But he certainly hadn't imagined it.

"I hope so," he quipped. "This seems like the sort of place you could get lost in for a long time."