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 2011-04-02 12:57 am (UTC)(link)
The fact that he could levitate himself was interesting, along with his method of speech. She'd have to see what else he could do later. He might be useful. She extended her hand toward him, gesturing.

Come. There will be no harm in following the lights for the moment. If there is treachery, it can be defeated. It is better than staying here and being trapped, isn't it?

[identity profile] tubeborn.livejournal.com 2011-04-02 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
He didn't want to accept this. He didn't want to follow along the path he was given and admit that there was no other way out. He had been free.

But there was no alternative.

He did not acknowledge the hand, but he did speak. < It seems I have no choice, > he allowed grudgingly.

It was not a "we", he would not group himself into a "we" with this stranger. Perhaps she could be useful to him, but if he found an opening he would take it without hesitation or concern for this other.

[identity profile] futureisclear.livejournal.com 2011-04-02 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
Come, then.

Without another word she turned and walked off down the path, all grace and poise, moving lightly. She'd just have to see where this particular path led and who or what this creature was.

[identity profile] tubeborn.livejournal.com 2011-04-02 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
Mewtwo floated along beside Ildraniath. He was trying to gather his anger into something constructive, to hide it away until it could actually benefit him. He stretched out his consciousness slowly, carefully, feeling the cocooned presences all around him. So many lives, more than he had ever encountered in one place. All dormant and asleep. Having this to consider helped soften his agitation.

It was readily apparent that he wasn't the chatty type. He just wanted to reach the end of this path and figure out if there was anything at the end that he needed to kill.