cityship: (Default)
cityship ([personal profile] cityship) wrote in [community profile] trans_92011-04-01 12:09 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] futureisclear.livejournal.com 2011-04-01 06:14 pm (UTC)(link)
For all of their failings, humans were resilient creatures. Sometimes they could even be empathetic. Ildraniath - a non-human, clearly. Delicated, angular features and pointed ears make that clear. Well, sort of clear. She's still covered in muck and looks fairly human in body, if not in face and mind. She wiped a handful of slime off and eyed the Doctor. Nudity she could deal with or at least not let it get to her too badly. She was still fighting down panic - she needed to find her spiritstone.

"Farseer Ildraniath. I seem to be unharmed, but I am just as in the dark as you are," She replied, voice steady and almost aloof.

[identity profile] a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com 2011-04-01 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
He looked distinctly unfazed by the differences in her features; it was nearly impossible to tell whether he hasn't noticed them, or whether he was simply accustomed to being around non-humans to begin with. His gaze came back down from the cavern ceiling, and by the time he met the eyes of the being addressing him, he was ready with a friendly smile.

"A pleasure, I'm sure," he replied cheerfully, and there didn't seem to be even an iota of snoot in his tone: he offered a hand to shake, in fact. "Though I must say I'll never stop being unnerved by the vague 'chosen one' declarations. They always seem to have the wrong one when they do that to me. Err... not that this time in particular seems to solely involve me," he added hastily. "I certainly hope it isn't my fault, at least."
Edited 2011-04-01 18:34 (UTC)

[identity profile] futureisclear.livejournal.com 2011-04-01 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
She hesitated at the outstretched hand and settled for simply dipping into a slight bow. She could be polite, even if she wasn't necessarily used to mon-keigh greetings. But she was going to need answers. Very soon. And clothing. Clothing would be a plus.

"The future is always in flux. Uncertain. But occasionally there does emerge one who is chosen for a greater purpose..." She frowned. "However, this seems to defy most of what I know. I should not be here."

Which is sort of obvious, but she felt the need to elaborate on that particular fact.

[identity profile] a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com 2011-04-01 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
He wasn't offended, easily shifting gears through centuries of experience in his travels to offer a bow in return.

"Indeed. The stipulations of such a doctrine, while varying from world to world, do tend to follow a loose guideline, if nothing else. I've never seen them fulfilled this way before, however; to be sure, I've not often seen a mass stasis termination like this that... hasn't..." And then he actually did look terribly worried.

"...gone dreadfully wrong," he finished absently, turning on his heels to get a better look around them. "And you're sure none of this looks familiar, even outside the requirements of some spiritual rite or other?"

[identity profile] futureisclear.livejournal.com 2011-04-01 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)
She was still acutely aware of her own nudity, but unlike most mon-keigh, this one didn't seem particularly preoccupied with his baser urges. Good. She wiped another handful of gunk from her hair as she considered his words.

"It reminds me vaguely of another species I have faced in combat once or twice. However, considering we are not dead and our biomass being put to use to fuel their hive, I doubt they're responsible for this. Besides, if a Hive Fleet splinter had fallen upon my homeworld, I would've known long before it arrived..."

[identity profile] a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com 2011-04-01 09:26 pm (UTC)(link)
"I rather doubt this is a fuelling hive," he agreed, reaching up to scratch his head... and being met with a mass of ick. He began to groom himself semi-earnestly now, or at least getting as much of it off him as he could, while he spoke.

"Considering the variations in species here, and by the smell of things, the unvarying formula of sustaining fluids, this place isn't meant to monitor us for optimal feeding conditions. Given the somewhat invasive introduction alongside, I doubt we're underestimated as primitive creatures, either, which rules out the possibility of collecting expendable footsoldiers or simple clone generators."

He seemed to get sidetracked by theories and speculation rather easily, half the time leaving one to wonder whether he was still conversing, or simply annotating. The academic facet crumbled slightly, though, as he turned to the wall to lay a hand almost reverently on it.

"She's here, though," he murmured, his tone softening. "Whoever she is, even if that was automated, the sentience remains, albeit in traces. She's benign."

[identity profile] futureisclear.livejournal.com 2011-04-01 09:31 pm (UTC)(link)
She nodded in grim agreement. His assessment was sound, although a bit meandering and not as direct as she would've liked under the circimstances. She paused as the Doctor stepped forward and placed his hand on the wall. What was he-?

Ah, why had she not thought to do so herself? She stepped forward and placed her hand on the wall, stretched out, let the familiar power flow through her - ah, there it was. An intelligent spirit or construct. The same who had spoken into her mind a few minutes ago. She did not probe or attempt explore; she had no idea of what she might find.

"Perhaps - but those are surface thoughts and directives. Going deeper might reveal more of her true intent."

[identity profile] a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com 2011-04-02 01:11 am (UTC)(link)
"Perhaps it might, but wouldn't that be rather rude?" he pointed out, paying no mind to the fact that he was defending a sentient empath of a ship. "She hasn't invaded our minds, per se--she's simply speaking to us without seeking entry. Or to me, at any rate..." He glanced up again with a quick frown.

It had been unnerving, to be announced to like that despite his strong and habitual empathic barriers, but it had in fact been only an announcement, and no trace of probing through it. Though it might have used the same linked base as he had with the TARDIS (he could feel her, somewhere distant and distorted, but even his perception of her was slippery), he somehow didn't feel threatened by it. To the contrary, it comforted him, to a small degree.

"Did she attempt to glean anything from yours, then?" he finally asked, pulling his hand back in an almost guilty fashion.

[identity profile] futureisclear.livejournal.com 2011-04-02 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
Ildraniath shook her head, "No. She simply spoke to me - she hasn't probed my mind. At least not in a way I can detect. Or while I've been awake."

She frowned and flexed her fingers, bringing her hand back to her side. Well, that made another psyker aboard with her at least. Even if he was mon-keigh. He didn't seem to be an Imperial Psyker - they tended to be very jittery.

"I assume we should be moving on."