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Entry tags:
- !location: pod caverns,
- !plot: pod release,
- aldrea/esplin 9466,
- alendian,
- applejack,
- ash ketchum,
- ashley graham,
- cassie,
- chell,
- christina sierra,
- cypher,
- daja kisubo,
- danny phantom,
- death,
- donna noble,
- edward elric,
- ellyn vitner,
- fox mulder,
- hank pym,
- hei,
- jake berenson,
- kali,
- katara,
- kimberly hart,
- kyuubey,
- lightning,
- malcolm reynolds,
- mark allan/molten man,
- mei terumi,
- minatsuki takami,
- miss martian/m'gann m'orzz,
- morgan knight,
- pinkie pie,
- pram,
- punchy,
- rapunzel,
- rarity,
- red xiii (nanaki),
- ron weasley,
- sakura kinomoto,
- sandrilene fa toren,
- satellizer el bridget,
- shoutarou hidari,
- soren,
- sumeragi lee noriega,
- the master,
- tidus,
- tsunade,
- victoria waterfield,
- wakka,
- yoshiya "joshua" kiryuu
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
Somewhere in the mud and blood and knifing a boy fresh out of his mother's arms and plunging his hands into the entrails of a friend he'd known for years, a part of Malcolm Reynolds, the part that gave a man's life meaning, and that was good and hopeful and noble had just rotted away. The volunteer had died. The believer had died.
Yet, even as it took everything from him, the war had taught him how to keep on living. It was the war that came to him as he emerged from that pod, utterly naked, coated in goo, and cursing with enough Chinese to make an army of Buddhists blush. The war that got him to push aside his fear, and confusion, and anger, and to focus on what needed to be done. The maternal tones of the voice speaking to him were noted, cataloged, and filed away, even as he stated a few unkind things about what this Stacy could do with her fight. There were others there, but they were as disoriented as he was and therefore likely couldn't help.
No, right now he had to accomplish certain tasks before he had the luxury of helping anyone, or of losing his mind. He needed to find out where in space he was. He needed to find his crew. He needed to find a gun. He needed to find his ship.
And he needed some gorram pants.
no subject
The voice in her head at that thought confirmed it - a living ship. This did rather seem like some sort of drunken nightmare, but she didn't have the headache to go along with it.
She glanced around, looking for the 'others' that Stacy had spoken of. A few feet away - a man, who looked only marginally less confused than she felt. A rather good-looking man, at that.
"Hello there, handsome."
no subject
'Hello there, handsome.'
Of course, it turned out one of the few things that could result in at least a temporary such deviation was the presence of an extremely attractive, and naked, woman covered in a healthy coating of alien slime.
Face twisting into a expression of shock, he let out a quick, "Suoyou de dou shidang," as his eyes lifted towards the empty heavens. "You should know normally I make it a policy to introduce myself to a woman before taking things to this stage."
no subject
"And I'm usually a few more drinks into my game." She offered a still-slimy hand, ignoring her own current state of undress. "Sumeragi Lee Noriega."
no subject
"Captain Malcolm Reynolds. Well Miss Sumeragi, I'll admit to hoping you know more about this mess than I do."
no subject
"I wish I could say I did - did you get the voice, too?" She tapped the side of her head to indicate what she meant - and hoped the ship didn't always communicate that way, because it was unnerving.
no subject
The mention of the voice got him nodding the affirmative, his hand reaching up to touch his own head. "Not sure if I'm relieved to know that ain't from brain damage, or worried about what kind of feng le Alliance tech in my head."
no subject
"Well, if we aren't crazy, then it's something we can do something about," she said firmly. She wasn't sure sure the 'Alliance' he was talking about was, exactly, but it sounded suspiciously like the ESF. "Firefly-class is unfamiliar to me - though I wouldn't mind seeing it." Provided their ships were actually here.
no subject
"Better be here. If they touched my ship, I'm gonna have more than words with them." Turning back, he met Sumeragi's eyes, managing to push out their mutual nudity from his focus. "We find it, I'll give you a free ride anywhere you need ta go."
no subject
So instead she gave the man - Malcolm - a grin. "A true gentleman. I didn't think there were any left, these days."
no subject
Watching the flow of the people around them, he seemed to recall that they were, for the moment, standing naked and gooey in the middle of a giant cavern. "First though, what do you say we get some answers about what's going on here?"
no subject
Malcolm had a point, though. "Let's - and hope that there are some clothes to be had in the bargain." Even if she didn't particularly mind the sight of the man naked.
no subject
Mal himself didn't really mind Sumeragi's state of undress if he was being honest, but it was rather hard to focus on staying alive with such a tempting distraction. Luckily Mal had enough discipline to keep himself on task and focused.
Mostly. He was still human.
"That would be a kindness. At the very least, I'd like some pockets and somewhere to hang a holster."
no subject
"As least it isn't cold in here," she added, somewhat offhandedly.
no subject
"We'll have to thank our captors for the kindness when we see them. Looks like we should go thank 'em." Falling into step alongside her, he began to move towards the indicated entrance. "So, what part of the 'Verse are you from?" If she wasn't familiar with Firefly's, there was a good chance she hailed from the core worlds, though he really hoped she wasn't Alliance. Her bearing didn't have any of the casual arrogance he associated with that bunch, but Mal wasn't blind enough to think that everyone who served in that body was a self righteous or corrupt meddler. At least she was young enough not to have likely not fought in the war.
no subject
"Born in Spain, but I'm something of a wanderer." Technically true, even if she'd wound up wandering her way to space. Not that there was no place for her on Earth - but while the mission and Celestial Being remained, the surface was a dangerous place for them to be. Maybe after... but it sounded suspiciously like this place was their 'after'.
no subject
no subject
And she thought a living ship speaking into her head was the weirdest thing that had happened today.