cityship: (Default)
cityship ([personal profile] cityship) wrote in [community profile] trans_92011-01-01 02:54 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 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.

[identity profile] 8wings.livejournal.com 2011-01-02 12:14 am (UTC)(link)
"These look like some sort of life support system," Anwei said, gesturing to the pods that clung in thick clusters to the fleshy pillars around them. "Maybe it was just - some sort of accident. Maybe it isn't Earth that's gone, just - some of it."

She smiled, a little more sanely this time. "Of course, maybe the clothes they give you are alien goo. Goo might be in fashion this season."
neveradamsel: (Default)

[personal profile] neveradamsel 2011-01-02 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
"Mhm, they do." She gestures. "They look like something out of a movie I saw, once." What the name of it is, she can't remember. Not like it matters.

"If it is, then I really ought to be rocking the runway."

[identity profile] 8wings.livejournal.com 2011-01-02 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
"Life support implies that we are important enough to be saved, for whatever reason."

She made a sharp barking noise that was almost a laugh. "I once owned a dress that went opaque only where someone else looked at it. And only right where they looked - everywhere else it was these long translucent tendrils. So you'd walk around at a party and there would be these spots all over you, where people were looking, and guys would try to peek out of the corner of their eyes and," she rolled her own eyes, "it made for a very amusing evening, shall we say."
neveradamsel: (☄ [ show you the world ])

[personal profile] neveradamsel 2011-01-02 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
She nods, still having a little bit of trouble accepting all of this whole being saved and world ending business.

"That sounds like a dynamite outfit," she says, voice tinged with genuine admiration.

[identity profile] 8wings.livejournal.com 2011-01-02 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
"And you have to believe that you are worth saving, you know. Think of how much effort this implies, how many people are here," pointing to the pods. "It really could be that we're here to save the world." She grinned, that horrible wide grin again.

She glanced at Roxanne. "It actually was part biotech, which is what this ship appears to be. Maybe they can make you one. But not in grey-green, we hope. Care to see what clothes we're really going to get?" She pointed to the strip of lights along the ground with one foot.
neveradamsel: (Default)

[personal profile] neveradamsel 2011-01-02 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
"Wouldn't that be something." She muses, carefully looking off to the side as she studies one of the pods instead of that wide, sharp smile.

"I prefer red," she murmurs, thinking that if anything an outfit like that would have definitely snagged her a couple interviews back home. "Sounds good. I know I'm tired of being naked and covered in goop."

[identity profile] 8wings.livejournal.com 2011-01-02 01:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"Sorry, I'm oversmiling again, aren't I?" She touched her fingertips to her cheeks and consciously relaxed them. "All that practice for visiting Earth seems to have melted away in the pods."

"Oh, the dress was variable spectrum - that way you could set it to match other people's clothing. And - ha ha - if two people showed up wearing the same dress, they would fight. The dresses, not the people I mean." Anwei was strolling along the path of lights, slowly enough that Roxanne could follow her or not as she pleased. "If the pod release was automated, the clothing section might be as well."