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Entry tags:
- !location: pod caverns,
- !plot: pod release,
- aibghalien marsai,
- alistair,
- arhu,
- chris redfield,
- cinque nakajima,
- duo maxwell,
- dustin brooks,
- elisa maza,
- eva,
- gaignun kukai jr./rubedo,
- hal "otacon" emmerich,
- hit girl,
- james,
- john-117,
- jomy marquis shin,
- lacus clyne,
- namira amell,
- nunnally vi britannia,
- phillip,
- ren akiyama,
- setsuna f. seiei,
- spider-man (older),
- tavros nitram,
- tieria erde,
- vislor turlough,
- volstagg,
- wash,
- wheeljack,
- yve cousland,
- zhiai'kahn ahl
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 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.
||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:
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 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.
no subject
Think hard, Alistair.
Maybe this kid was...NOT a Darkspawn? Brilliant!
"I'm Alistair, not Gamzee," he said. Also brilliant. "Um. Are you all right?"
no subject
"I..." voice pitched in an adolescent squeak. He clears his throat and tries again. "I'm Tavros. Wh-what the hell is going on?"
no subject
"I have no idea," he finally said. "Other than the fact that there are apparently people-ships that like picking up unsuspecting people and taking them Maker-knows-where for Maker-knows-what..."
He sighed, shoulders slumping.
"This Stacy-ship insists that there are other people around...someplace...who know what's going on, but I'm hardly one of them."
no subject
He pulls himself a couple of feet from Alistair. Where is that damn wheelchair?
no subject
Well, yes it was. Maker, he was a bad, bad man.
But...hive? That didn't sound good.
"You aren't actually a Darkspawn, are you?" Tavros didn't FEEL like a Darkspawn, but he could always be a new breed...
no subject
"I... I don't know what a Darkspawn is, I don't think. Is that anything like... like a Fiduspawn?"
no subject
Give him a moment. He's thinking hard again, here, and it shows on his face.
"I really don't think you're a Darkspawn, come to think of it. There's a distinct lack of frothing and snarling for blood. So no, probably not."
Really, he's taking this remarkably well, for him.
"So...what is a Fiduspawn then?"
no subject
"Fiduspawn's pretty cool, it's like, uhh, it's a game. Each card has a different monster on it, right, with stats and things? And then you hatch a--"
Common sense shines through!
"Uhhh, but I don't think this is really, um... the time for that. I really, really need to talk to Stacee."
Tavros glances at himself. His complexion goes browner in embarrassment.
"And maybe f-find some clothes."
no subject
And then he mentions clothes.
"Um. Yes! That would be great! Clothes! I should find some of those, too." Maybe he'd even find a sword or a shield or his armor. Anything. Really.
"Er. I don't suppose you need a hand?" Because most humans weren't like trolls. And despite himself, Alistair's sort of firmly on the side of "nice guys".
Unless you're Morrigan.
no subject
Tavros hesitates at the offer and examines the floor again.
"Uhh... no. I kind of... can't walk anymore, so it'd basically be kind of a big hassle for you. Don't worry; I can do it."
He starts moving again, arm over arm. Dammit, the slime's drying and this is kind of hard now. He shouldn't have stopped to chat.
He wonders how much time he has left to get home. Last he heard, meteors were already coming down.
no subject
Alistair looked confused for a couple of minutes. Don't worry, this happens a lot.
"Well, how about I follow you then?" It seemed like a good idea. And if Tavros got hung up or something, then perhaps he could give a hand. Or something.
no subject