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Entry tags:
- !location: mess hall,
- arrowette,
- bandit,
- bella (garou),
- brainiac 5,
- brenda,
- cielo,
- daniel jackson,
- dave lister,
- gambit,
- iron fist,
- jack spicer,
- jaime reyes,
- jamie hemeros,
- jo lupo,
- john crichton,
- kelly-087,
- kon-el,
- lafiel,
- lois lane,
- mei ling,
- pirogoeth,
- ravager,
- red devil,
- river tam,
- ronon dex,
- sailor mars,
- shawn spencer,
- spider-man,
- superman,
- wyn callahan,
- yuri otani
Meet N' Greet
Part of the crew might be gone, but life on the ship goes on. In fact, new people have woken up and, eventually, they've been spat out into the mess hall.
Maybe it's better to introduce them to some of the worst aspects of ship life first, right?
Anyway, the word is out that there's new people, and someone should probably go say hello. Before the n00bs mistake the glop for crew.
[ooc: read before tagging, plz]
Maybe it's better to introduce them to some of the worst aspects of ship life first, right?
Anyway, the word is out that there's new people, and someone should probably go say hello. Before the n00bs mistake the glop for crew.
[ooc: read before tagging, plz]
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She's not sure which is crazier: this, where she is wandering around inside a chick named Stacy in some warped designer's answer to Ferngully, or that time she ended up in a desert somewhere off-planet, running around with Clark and Kara and spooky phantom things, jumping through portals, and talking about weird alien mumbo-jumbo. Either way, it's a head trip.
And apparently, like last time, she's not alone in this warped little place.
"Oh, good, I'm not the only guest on the Freakshow from Outer Space Variety Hour! Now who here has actual answers?"
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Now she just had to figure out if she knew any of the people here. The odds were good that she would, but they were even greater that she wouldn't.
And now her head hurt from trying to think about that.
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What's really wierd is all the different...things...he sees moving around here other than humans. Blue deer-human things with scorpion tails, robot-type beings,and some that are human but are supposed to only exist on television.
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The young, blue-haired man was reasonably skittish, he was drugged and tribeless in unfamiliar territory, and he still didn't understand what was going on. His stomach churned and his heart ached and the pulsing of the suit against his skin didn't help matters any. He tugged on the front of it weakly, it made him feel like he was slowly being devoured.
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Baleful eyes on the wall scanned her. As she passed the first, a slot opened on the wall underneath it and a strange tray full of grey goo was shoved at her by another tentacle, causing her to flinch. Clearly she was expected to eat.
Yuri found the farthest seat and sat down with her tray. She let out a half sigh, half groan and looked down at the slop, steaming and still moving in sickening puddles.
"You should make friends, Yuri." Borg said from atop her head.
"Easy for you to say...This probably feels like home to you."
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"Um...Hello, I'm Daniel Jackson. I uh... I'm still not sure what's going on here," speaking is usually the best way to go when meeting new people.
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He comes in sniffing, setting his nose to the walls, the floors, the chairs and tables, not to mention a few pairs of feet, some legs, a few crotches. Everything (and everyone) smells boringly uniform. It wasn't helping to get his mind of the uncomfortable, restrictive...thing they'd put on him, after the bath. Bandit and the plantsuit weren't going to get along, he can tell.
Beyond the wonder at the newness of the place, he can't help the beginnings of anxiety that start to well up. No Doctor Roseanne, no schedules, no missions. It's such a strange new life.
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She looked balefully at the edible plate that something in the wall had thrust at her. Clearly she was meant to eat, and while this looked like something found in a mythical giant's nose, she did not relish the thought of being force-fed by the same tentacles that had dragged her out of the pod bay. So she found one of th boney chairs and sat, reluctantly sipping the stuff.
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Walking slightly oddly, Lister entered into the mess hall, and stopped dead. It wasn't the sheer array of races there that stopped him, nor was it the creepy architecture.
No, it was the ladies. All discomfort, and lingering memories of the Kochanski dream were blasted away in the flood of red hot hormones.
"Smegging hell, is this heaven?"
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Concentrating on the room again, he could see that there were people who just "woke up" like he did and people who have been living in this place. Now I know that nothing's going to suddenly try to kill me here. Where ever the hell here is.
Visibly relaxed, leaned up against a wall, Ronon was content to study the crowd in front of him. Maybe one of his friends might stroll in.
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Maybe someone will come along and just explain everything to her.
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Mei Ling wastes no time with asking questions. She would like answers, thank you very much.
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One Captain James Tiberius Kirk makes his way into the mess hall, collapsing down on one of the nearby chairs.
"Bet those desk-jockeys back at the academy never have to deal with crap like this," he mutters to no one in particular.
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Jackin' some wi-fi.
Re: Jackin' some wi-fi.
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"Come on are you serious?" he asks nobody in particular, giving the unappetizing mess a nudge. "They had better shit than this in prison." Which he was in for a grand total of like... twenty minutes. Long enough to try the food, anyway.
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Meh. He didn't have much of an appetite anyway. Pushing the substance away, he propped his chin in one hand, idly rubbing at that arm with his other hand - that ticklish, skittery feeling underneath the suit was going to take some getting used to, he was sure - and stared out at the rest of the room. Lotta other people, some looking a little more...unique than others; a dog, a wolf. All supposedly here for Stacy's "higher purpose," or whatever line she'd fed them.
Jamie sighed. It felt childish and counterproductive, moping like this right off the bat, but he couldn't help it; he was starting to feel the loss of his friends back on the island, some more keenly than others.
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It's probably telling that this glop isn't as bad as the field rations he remembers.
He's picked a spot in the corner, towards the outer edge of the group, where he can see everyone and monitor the entrances. There are quite a few exotic-looking beings wandering around, ones he's only seen in pictures his parents had of the time before the purge of mutants started. During and after the war, beings with green skin or blue hair would have been thrown out of the dome or exterminated. It's strange to see one walking around...not exactly in broad daylight, but openly. Maybe it won't be so bad here.
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And there were more people here. Strange, strange looking people in some aspects and...dogs? Wolves?
Pirogoeth decided to go with her norm with these places. She chose a bench near the wall, and started to watch everyone, to see what she could make of this place.
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"Could one of y'all fine ladies and gents be kind enough to point a man in the direction of the nearest liquor cabinet?"
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The stuff that was soaking into the tray that was sitting infront of the young Starfleet ensign? It was pretty disgusting. Sometimes the youth raised his hand to poke at the stuff on the tray with a corner he had managed to chip off. It giggled. Food wasn't supposed to giggle.
Muttering a few words under his breath in Russian, Chekov glanced left then right before looking back down at the.. stuff. "Zhis is not natural food stuffs? Is it? I think, perhaps, it will jump off zhe tray and run avay."
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Ravenous, he didn't even glance up from his tray as he shovelled the glop into his mouth, pausing only to mutter to himself about how he ought to think about getting abducted by giant space vegetables more often.
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When he emerged from the pod, he thought he had been captured by the H'ylthri, but this place was definitely no forest. Not that a living spaceship is better. At least the suits matched his fashion sense.