trans_9 | Introducing a Little Anarchy

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Introducing a Little Anarchy

[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | Instructions: Post your character with one post establishing them as being podpopped. 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.

Glowing phosphorescenet 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.||

[ooc: make sure you edit the entry tags to reflect that your character has popped. normally mods would do it, but we have 34 characters popping and that's just, yeah, a little much]

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Mist sprays from one of the pods, and out of it slides...something. An indistinguishable mass of red and black organic matter, almost resembling the machinery of the ship, only without structure. The slime that was dripping onto the floor was slowly being absorbed into this biomass, like a sponge. The flesh twitched, pulsed, and began to shift. It condensed itself, took a humanoid shape, and finally changed it's outer layer into a man wearing a grey hood and black leather jacket.

This was Alex Mercer. His mind felt scrambled, like a pile of puzzle pieces. He took in his surroundings; the dark and the soft green light, the humidity, the smell, the several naked people also slipping out of the pods that filled the cavern. And he could feel the biomass that made up this whole place, a biomass not unlike himself. Alex didn't understand any of it. The last thing he could remember was cleaning up the rest of the infection in New York City. Deep in his mind, another memory stirred, one he had forgotten, the memory of his creation, before his release, before his sentience...

But now was not the time for reflection. Alex began to get his senses back, and he. was. pissed. Alex stood up straight, his eyes darting left and right, trying to figure out just what was going on.

"Where am I!?" Alex shouts. He grips his head as he suddenly feels the voice in his head, similar to the times he's absorbed people's memories, only much less violent and much clearer.

||You are here.||

Alex frantically tries to find the source of the voice, but she is no where to be seen. He clenches his fists and stares into the darkness.

"Where?! Just who the hell are you?!"

||STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT, but please call me Stacy.|| For a moment, Alex is perplexed, until he feels the rush of warm feelings entering his brain. Love. Alex grips his head and gasps. He knew of this feeling. He knew from the small bits of memories he had taken. Taken from those he had consumed. Those he had killed. This was different. This wasn't just a memory, this was the real thing. A feeling he had only ever felt once, for his sister.

Alex shouts angrily at Stacy. "What is this!? What do you want from me?!"

||You have been Chosen to accomplish a Great Purpose.||

Alex's quickly building rage finally reached it's peak.

"GO TO HELL!" Alex threw his arms to both sides, and his hands morphed into large sharp claws. He grabbed his empty pod with both hands, and with great effort, ripped most of it off and chucked it into the darkness. A pointless effort. He could not fight this Stacy, and he doubted that these other people had any part in his abduction. With no other option, Alex ran, following the only light he could see, up a long spiraling walkway. He gained speed, ripping up bits of the floor where he stepped.

Alex skid to a halt when he reached the room at the top. Vines descend on him ensnaring him, but Alex fights back, slashing at the vines with his claws and managing to free himself. He runs again, and this time to another large cavern, with a clear floor, and no clear exit. Alex yells as his arms change again, increasing in mass a hundred fold, and he slams them into the floor.

"LET ME GO!"

Luke, his plantsuit throbbing uncomfortably against his body and lightsaber in one hand, belt in the other, had been about to put them on and go find some answers about this place and where he was and how he could return when it hit him--the Force fairly screamed with it. Anger, and pain, terrible pain, and great fear. And in the next moment, a being (not entirely human, the Force whispered to him) tore out of the chamber he'd just left a moment ago.

His possessions still in hand, Luke jogged over to the male, seeing others starting to take notice out of his peripheral vision. Everyone here was confused, and a commotion like this could start a panic and get people hurt. He'd stop it if he could.

"Hey," he said, putting his lightsaber and the belt on the floor and advancing slowly, with his hands held in front of him to show he was unarmed. "Calm down, okay?"

Alex slammed his fists into the floor again, causing cracks to form underneath him. He turns and glares at the blonde haired man.

"Why? Do you know what this place is?"

"Well, it's a ship, I think," Luke said, keeping eye contact and keeping his hands up where the other could see them, body relaxed. "She introduced herself as Stacy. I'm sure we'll find out more."

The man was agitated, Luke felt it clearly, and unstable. He didn't want to have to use force--or the Force--that would only agitate the other further. Peaceful words and negotiations would hopefully be enough, they were all confused right now.

"Sure." Alex sneered as one arm shifted back to normal and one changed into a large, double sided blade. "And I'm sure that whatever WE do find out won't be very nice. I don't know about you, but when I get abducted by aliens, I'm not just going to sit back and let it happen. Now stay out of my way and maybe I'll help get you out of here."

"But we're needed here, I think," Luke said, keeping his voice and Force-presence calm, radiating it out toward Alex. "Otherwise we wouldn't be called here. I'm a Jedi, I can't just leave people in distress, it wouldn't be right!" He bit his lip, hoping he wouldn't have to use any powers of persuasion on this one. He seemed very strong-willed so it might not even work, and Luke didn't want to put himself in danger without even having set foot in the rest of the ship.

I have a bad feeling about this, he thought to himself.

"We can't do much about it now, we're here, aren't we?" he continued. "Why don't we just try to make the best of it?"

Alex kept his distance from Luke. He was starting to calm down, think more rationally. So far, no one except for those vines had put up a resistance. Alex scowled and shifted his arm back to normal. He took a few steps closer to look.

"Well I'm not a Jedi, and frankly, I'm the last person to look to for help."

"But you still have something that must have set you apart from everyone else that Stacy could have awoken," Luke said earnestly. "Something that'll help with... whatever tasks she's picked us for." He smiled. "Come on, how about you get your things and then find out where you can rest quietly. I think that'd do wonders."

"You mean besides these powers of mine?" Alex asks dryly. He shook his head and walked past Luke. "Fine, whatever. I've got everything I need."

Alex did not need sleep, but he did need some kind of breather. He turns back to Luke. "I'm still going to find out the truth behind all this, one way or another."

"I think we all will, in our own time," the Jedi Grandmaster said calmly, glad that the man had decided to calm down. "Stacy doesn't seem like the kind of, er, ship to keep us in the dark." He knelt, picking up his belt and lightsaber, and buckling them around his waist.

"I'm Luke Skywalker," he said, holding his hand out to shake. "If you need anything...?"

Alex merely looks at Luke's hand and puts his own hands into his jacket pockets. He's not in a friendly mood. He did keep an eye on Luke's lightsaber though.

"My name is Alex Mercer. If I need anything, I'll let you know."

He pulled his hand back, nodding. "I'll see you around, Alex." As he walked away, Luke resolved to keep an eye on Alex, check up on him every now and then. That much anger and frustration at the world--he couldn't let the man go on like that. It would hurt him and make him susceptible to the darkness, and if Luke could help someone turn away from that path, he would.

The echoing cavern didn't echo with Sheeana's footsteps. Fremen and Bene Gesserit both, her footfalls were quiet as the mouse she was often compared to...A nickname she accepted for the ironic jab it was.

She was searching for her sisters: other Bene Gesserit must be frozen in those pods. One chamber was clear, and she was turning towards the exit, ignoring the shambling hatchlings and their cries of disgust.

She began to descend a walkway when her internal multitude began to clamor of danger. Sure enough a pained looking man bounded up the walkway, trailed by slimy tentacles. His body seems to shift, gleaming and deadly, first blades, then great fists. The tentacles worry at him like wolves bringing down a bull moose.

Abruptly he is in front of her and she dodges back at literally blinding speed. Her crysknife is in her hand before too long, gleaming and bone white in the darkness of the cavern.

Look how his body shifts. Could he be one of the Enemy with Many Faces?

She's ready to find out.

"Calm yourself. That won't do you any good." A hint of Voice in it, just enough to compell listening.

Alex snarled and turned towards Sheeana. He saw the knife she wielded and scoffed. It would take more than that to threaten him.

"Why? Who are you? What do you know about this place?" Alex slammed his fist into the floor one last time, creating a small shock wave. The weight of his fists made him hunch over as he slowly started to walk over to Sheeana.

He doesn't fear the crysknife...But he is arrogant and enraged. Watch him simmer. Step back when he explodes.

Sheeana stood to her full height (a Dune waif, it wasn't much) and allowed the man (if indeed he was) to advance on her. Her face was a stony mask...well, maybe there was a tiny bit of a smirk. "I know more than you think, boy!"

He stopped. "Boy?" Alex asked, confused and a little annoyed. He frowned as one arm changed back to normal and the other shrank down to normal size, but with sharp prongs instead of a hand or fingers.

"How about telling me then?" Alex did not want to have to consume this person too. He had enough memories in his head already.

Sheeana is fascinated, perhaps a little repulsed by his transformations. Her face remains the same smirking mask however. If he is from my universe, I would assume he was the kind of advanced, uninhibited Face Dancers the Scattered Ones talked of...But he probably isn't. There's some powerful cellular control here...much like that of a Reverend Mother, but without the disciplined mind. Dangerous.

"That's right. You act like one, lashing out instead of trying to figure out your problems. I know plenty about this place, but I see no reason tell you any of it."

She turns her back to him, begins walking away as if suddenly bored. Let him attack me from the back...A risk, but one that opens possibilities. Wasn't that your grail, Tyrant?

Alex watches her, letting her walk away a distance. He sighs, resigning himself to what he has to do now.

"I don't need you to tell me." At that moment, Alex swings his arm at Sheeana, and the pronged end launches at her, tethered to a thick, black tentacle connected to his arm. All he had to do was let it grab her, pull her in, and consume her. All too familiar.

I don't need you to tell me... That goes to some small compartment of Sheeana's memory for further analysis. Later she would wonder at its meaning. Did he carry a T-probe on his person somewhere? Was such a thing even neccesary for such a strange being?

There's a blur and Sheeana has thrown herself downward too quickly for the human eye to catch. She feels adrenaline engage, the tingling and tunnel vision, the trance of battle. Her crysknife wings out above and behind her. It is the sharpest blade in her universe, but can it sever that tentacle?

The whip fist flew over Sheeana, and her crysknife cut into the tentacle. Alex grunted in pain and quickly retracted it. Red and black fluid dripped from the wound for a moment before quickly healing over. It seemed that he needed to keep his distance, which hopefully would not be too difficult.

Alex's arms shifted and his hands changed back into the long sharp claws. He would match speed with speed, and keep a little surprise handy just in case.

Sheeana was a literal blur, abandoning herself to her training in the Weirding Way. Each attack was rythmless as a Fremen's walk across the sands, as her dance for the worms.

She kept her distance, the crysknife's blows lashing out at the strange protean man's extremities. She wanted to know if she could chip away at him somehow. That spurt of life-essence earlier showed he could be hurt, at least. But where?

Alex raised one arm and immediately a hard black shield formed over it, protecting most of his body from the crysknife. The shield was not as effective as he had hoped, as the weapon began slicing through.

Alex did not have Sheeana's grace, but he did have brute power. Alex jumped back, launching himself several feet into the air, almost touching the ceiling. As he descended, Alex raised one clawed arm. Just as he hit the floor, he pierced it with his claws. Underneath the clear floor could be seen many tentacles with sharp points emerging from his claws. once they were close enough to Sheeana, the tentacles shot up out of the floor as a mass of spikes. Spikes that could pierce tank armor.

Alex was holding back though. If he was going to consume Sheeana, he could not afford to kill her. He needed to weaken her.

Remarkable... She was awed by his abilities even as she disdained his attitude.

When the man landed there was a rumble and spikes shot through the ground, making the whole area a deadly forest.

Sheeana thanked the worms she'd grown up with for teaching her an almost animal sensitivity to vibration. She dodged back, but one sliced up, leaving an angry red slash on the inside of her forearm. Fremen ancestry meant she bled only for a moment before swift coagulation. He wasn't the only one with adaptions.

She threw herself sideways (more spikes came fractions of a second behind her, the closeness leaving her back criss-crossed with more red marks) into a desperate roll. "Hold." This was Voice, a potent tool. Bene Gesserit trained years in this skill, using sophisticated subharmonics to compel swift obedience in the listener. The reciever felt conscious control wink out momentarily, a frying of everything that let them hold on to themselves.

If this worked...

Alex suddenly felt himself freeze. He could not move a muscles. The spikes quickly retracted back into his body, freeing him fro the ground but he still could not move. Somehow this woman was doing this, but with only one word. It made no sense to Alex, but clearly it was happening. And he was a sitting duck.

Gritting his teeth, Alex managed to force one of his shapeshifting abilities to work. Hard, chitinous armored plates grew from and covered his entire body, creating a defensive shell that would not break like his shield. This did not make him invincible though. Alex desperately tried to regain control of movement, before Sheeana could take advantage of his vulnerability.

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Introducing a Little Anarchy

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