Tony peered out at the passing Bleed, watching the swirling colors slide past. He felt a bit nervous for some reason - the idea of this being an "official" date was odd, but he was the one who proposed it. Huh. He hoped things would work out well (and so far, between him and Kate, things had been fantastic). It was nice to have someone grounding, someone there who he could just talk or cuddle with. It gave him something real to hold onto.

He grinned to himself and nervously tried to tame his unruly hair again. Nope. Not happening. He sighed and turned towards the door, laughing at himself. Kate liked his hair unruly. It was part of who he was.

The crew dreams.

As they have been for the past while, their dreams are being tampered with, but tonight it's different. Roxie, one of the crew members has done rituals to try to give the crew good dreams. However, the power of the Nightmare King can't easily be overcome, as a result, rather than pleasant or nightmarish, people's dreams are instead taking a turn for the surreal tonight.

Get ready to go down the rabbit hole, Meatship.

The jovial extra terrestrial sporadically giggled at the sight of the imaginary synthetic meat by-product. Exuberance!

Curiouser and curiouser.

Sawyer had been avoiding the city ever since Bella had told him that the Vatican had been all but destroyed during the fighting with the zombies. No one had died, which Sawyer--rather immodestly--accredited to himself and all the work he put in getting the basilica ready for just that kind of occasion. But with the basilica trashed, Sawyer had lost the spot on the ship that he had adopted as his own little castle--even if other, more religious crew members had tried to mosey in on his turf. So, in an effort to familiarize himself with some of the newly opened areas of the ship, Sawyer had been walking around and poking his head into the command deck, engineering, neuropathy, and, eventually, the flight deck.

He spent at least an hour wandering around the deck, looking at all the different fighters, bombers, mechs, frigates, and shuttles before his eyes landed on something that most definitely didn't seem to belong. In one untouched corner of the flight deck stood an object covered up with a protective tarp. It wasn't large, especially in comparison to all the other machines around it. It, in fact, looked rather reminiscent in size to a normal vehicle from Earth.

With furrowed brow, Sawyer wandered over to the "mysterious" vehicle and cautiously took hold of the tarp and gave it a sharp tug only to reveal....

( ZOINKS!!! )

An hour or so later, anyone stopping by the hangar deck would find Sawyer, driving in circles in an empty corner of the hangar at five miles at hour. The windows were rolled up, and a cloud of smoke filled the vehicle as the meatship's resident a$$hole puffed away on something that was not a cigarette.

[OOC: Please keep to one thread. Thank you!!!]

Tony needed some time, from time to time (haha) and today, in order to take his mind off of the impending doom of the Nightmare King and the rather vivid nightmares he'd been having, he decided to do some simple work in the Sensoriums. He'd conjured up a garage and the old beater he'd occasionally driven around in - the paint was chipped and coming away in places, the car ran like shit, it had way too many miles on it and the muffler was probably broken, but it had been his for the very brief time he'd ridden around in it.

So, he was up to his arms in the guts of the simulated car. His t-shirt and jeans were covered with (simulated) grease and oil stains and his hands were dirty, but the work helped him think. It gave him something to do. It was a good distraction. He didn't glance up from the engine as he heard someone come in.

"Hey, man. Feel free to come on in."

Bella's been down in the City a lot lately, since she and One-Leaf-Ear discovered the Plant Temple. Not that it can really be called a temple anymore, for the plant itself has regrown to form a loose round dome of narrow trees, with several child-sized flower buds scattered about its heart. It's... serene in there. Not unlike the presence of the Garibah Tree. There's none of the slow intelligence to it, but the place is alive as one entity.

Bella can be seen through the spaces between the trees, bounding around on the unusually healthy-looking green grass.

She seems to be doing some kind of drill.

Well. At least it'd been quiet since the attack.

Christian (he hardly ever considered himself Adam any longer. He'd changed identities too often to become attached to one) did not even bother to determine how long that was. The lack of a solar cycle did not prevent him telling time, but he imagined the scale of traveling residence on this ship doubtlessly entailed, made the tracking pointless.

He had managed by luck more than skill to avoid the latest diversion, fortunately enough, it had been some inane holiday world. Christian may have been mild-mannered, but he was still not about to go and 'save Christmas' for a strange world he knew nothing about. He would save his own Earth before worrying about others.

Now, he could do without the disturbing dreams--vivid and uncomfortable even by his own standards...and after four hundred years, a mind could become extraordinarily creative--or the spectres of his past that accompanied them. Their persistence alone would have given him a headache, were he capable of such things any longer. Clearly, his mind was unsettled, but how? Aside from the obvious placement on this ship, and the claim that his world was lost. He had long overcome any disappointment or chagrin he felt at those revelations. Yet, he knew of nothing else that could cause such nightmares.

Perhaps he simply needed action. Perhaps it was time Christian met the population of the ship on a more personal basis. Christian was friendly, if quiet. Surely, it was time he came out of his shell somewhat, and befriended some of the crew. Undoubtedly, he would need to. Certainly, if Petrelli meant to blackmail him into submission, with his limited knowledge.

Now, he contemplated just how he might achieve that. Clearly, a change of tactics was required. To be unnoticed would not serve his purposes any longer. Thus, rather than lurk where his suit would blend into the ship's walls, he donned the simple dark slacks and suitably tacky blue pull-over, and went exploring in tighter corridors.

Presently, he found himself in front of the painting which enjoyed shifting. As the image settled on a gruesome battle scene--much of the damage undoubtedly done with abilities, judging by its depiction--Christian stumbled backward in outward shock. "Oh, God, why doesn't it warn someone when it does that!"

That, at least, ought to be cracked and loud enough to draw attention.

It is that time again, meatship.

Once again, the King of Nightmares has deigned to spread his touch to all of your dreams.

This time, however, he has decided to give them a much more personal touch, sending his very own children to visit each and every one of you, slowly sowing the seeds of madness within all of you.

Such a kind and loving king he is, isn't he?

[ooc: Alright folks, Nightmare King is ramping things up a bit. These nightmares are a good bit more dangerous now, and he's sending in his minions to make things a little more real. The nightmares will be of a much more serious nature this time, designed to start driving the crew slowly insane. Characters are more likely to run into nightmare minions in the guise of someone or something that will tug at the edges of their sanity. Also, this time, the characters can have joint dreams, as these nightmares are of a more mystical nature this time. Once again, tagging in isn't mandatory, but if you want to, go crazy (literally)!]

[Additional Note: Any injuries won't be carrying over to real life at this point in the plot but don't worry, we'll get there eventually!]

Jonas was not usually the most sociable of the crew members to begin with, and he had been lying even lower than usual since his encounter with the Scarlet Witch.

Right now though, he was making use of the Sensoriums to do some training. There were drones and blades and electrified rods, and the floor and ceiling shifted suddenly in strange directions. A few people on board might recognize that Stacy was simply replicating the Avengers' Training Room.

Jonas dove right into the thick of it, punching and phasing and tumbling his way through all of the obstacles in his path. A knowledgeable observer might notice that his cape seemed more than capable of keeping itself out of trouble -- more than normal cloth should be able to.

Having one's cape actually being a part of one's body was very handy, as it turned out.

He catapulted himself through the last of the drones, remaining just solid enough to utterly destroy its inner workings as he passed. He rolled to his feet and dusted off his hands, smirking to himself as the drone toppled to the floor for a delightfully cinematic finish.

Then he finally looked up to meet the eyes of his audience. "[Yes?]"

Nova had heard everything she'd needed to hear. As it was, she didn't have much of an opinion of it. If it was all true, then she'd do what she needed to and kill these Ohm or whatever the hell they were. If it was a lie, well, it wasn't as if her current situation was much worse than the on she'd been in before she got here. Hunted by the Terran Dominion for the information she possessed, not to mention her desertion from the ranks. But if it was all lie, she'd play along until it looked like she would get hurt, then the first person who tried would see that she wasn't a helpless little girl.

She stood at one of the large windows of the obs deck, staring out at the Bleed, or whatever it was that Stacy traveled through, as it flashed past. Dressed in a flowy sundress, she stood straight, hands clasped behind her back as she watched the myriad of colors flash by. The Ghost realized that her choice of outfit wasn't the most practical, but she'd spent the last few months confined to her Hostile Environment suit, hiding and running from agents sent to recover her. It was high time she rewarded herself with some real clothes. True, the dress was something recovered from an alien planet, a hand-me-down if you would, but she didn't care. It felt good against her skin, light and airy. It was a good feeling after months trapped in her clinging bodysuit.

Turning from the window, she leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed under her chest as she watched the various people filing in and out of the room. So many different people. Different species. Shutting her eyes a moment, she released the tight rein of control she usually held her psionics in check by, letting her mind wander over the thoughts of the nearby crew. Dancing lightly over the surface. The thoughts, the emotions she caught through her short moment of freedom, made her smile slightly before she exerted her control again. Opening her eyes, she focused on the people around the room, trying to determine which thoughts belonged to who.

There.  That must have been the man who hated this ship with a passion. And there, that girl was the one who wondered if the boy she liked would ever see her the same way. There, the boy who liked the woman but didn't know yet himself. And there, that man seemed to be one of the ones in charge. She let her eyes wander, assigning the individual thoughts to their possible owners. It had been a long time since she'd had time to simply relax and think. 

It felt good. Catching a stray thought - someone watching her? - she tilted her head in their direction, fixing them with an almost teasing gaze from her piercing green eyes. The look seemed to say 'I don't bite.'

Nighttime.

Or, at least, what passed for nighttime on the meatship.

A time when most of the crew was already fast asleep, dreaming away pleasantly throughout the night.

...Or, perhaps not. For you see, tonight, something particularly strange is happening.

Now it is not all that unusual for someone to have a nightmare, especially not on the ship.

Yet tonight, no one will sleep easily, for the Nightmare King deems it so.

Everyone's dreams will have a tinge of horror to them. Nothing so out of the ordinary to rouse one's suspicions, but at the same time, no one is left out.

Pleasant nightmares, meatship.

[ooc: And thus begins the start of the Nightmare King's spree of insanity. He's starting out subtle, of course. The nightmares won't be anything more than your run of the mill bad dream, but he is giving them to everyone. Posting in isn't mandatory, but if you want to have fun with your character's nightmare, go right ahead.]

After the holiday planet, someone's gotten a cheering up. It seems that Jaime Reyes is finally turning his bad mood around, finally recovering some from the bridge run, finally coming to terms with everything.

It's helped that he's taken time to grieve, but having taken time on the mission to just help others has helped even more.

In fact, Jaime's used his spending money for presents. Some of it for people he knows, but he also picked up stuff he could give to just anyone on the ship, and he intends to just...give them stuff to cheer up whoever needs it.

So, Meatship, there is short Latino teen going around the ship giving random people presents. Enjoy!

"Who wants cookies?"

Scout had been rather secretive after the mission, ditching the second meet and greet (who cared about those jerks anyway) to head straight to the crew lounge. It was empty, which was actually great for him. After all, he wanted a bit of quality alone time with some of the "souvenirs" he brought back from that Earth.

He pulled out a white bag, practically dripping with grease now, but -oh God- did it smell good. Scout inhaled deeply, savoring the scent before gently pulling out a taco, hastily wrapped up in some thin paper. Sure it'd probably take a couple years off his life by eating it, but what what was he gonna do with those anyway?

Kate, Nathan and Xander were already familiar with the sadistic AI, and her idea of funtimes in cake-less mazes but it was a new experience for Dean.

As it was, Dean was cursing loudly as they all emerged in the city, and stomping or flying away depending on who it was.

Dean for his part? "Where the f#$%&* cake already?!"

Kate sighed, and shook her head before looking to do some target practice in the Sensoriums, and catch up with her friends.

Xander was making his way to the Vatican to check over the supports and structures. He was still checking to see how much can be salvageable. And what can be repaired.

Nathan flew off to stop by Medbay to see his brother before heading to the Media Library. He was also going to check his commlink for messages.

(ooc: back from hiatus, and distractions sorely needed. Just note which you want in your tag, thanks!)

Kate wasn't sure why she was bothering. The Avengers Mansion was gone like everything else. Hawthrone Academy. Bishop Publishing. New York. All of it only existed in the memories of minds like her own in this simulacrum. It seemed even more pointless to populate since it would just feel like ghosts. Literally now. But it was familiar, and so she drew her legs up as she sat on one of the couches, a cello resting on the floor by her along with sheet music. She didn't feel like practicing at the moment. Her hands were cradling a picture of four heroes as she looked down at it. Four of the elder Avengers in their younger days beamed up from the frame. More ghosts and memories now gone. She wondered if they were spared. If they were asleep in the pods too, just waiting for their time to wake up.

Though would that be Cap? Or was he just gone completely now? Not even a grave to mark him.

She was going to catch up with her friends soon enough, but right now, she wanted a little moment to think and reflect. Of what they could have been, and what is their destiny now. How to start over here in a new universe.

Between the medical staff among the crew and Stacy’s highly-advanced technology, it wasn’t very long before Paco was well enough to cut back on his meds. That meant that it wasn’t very long before Paco could actually hold a coherent conversation with someone without accusing them of wearing a variety of live animals as hats as he slipped in and out of unconsciousness. Finally, he reached a point where he could actually get a message out requesting that someone come visit him.

That was what he was waiting on at the moment. He hoped that someone would see his message on the comms and swing by soon, he could use the distraction. He was currently engaged in a staring contest with his stump in an attempt to convince his brain that his right forearm did not itch.

Why the hell did “mind over matter” only work when it wasn’t helpful?

The conversation between the bridge crew, Stacy, and the Admiral is broadcasted where the rest of the crew is in the MedBay, and gathered right outside. Even in the bridge itself, the sound echoes over the monitors so that anyone resistant to psionics can hear Elfangor's side of the conversation.

They have now been told why they were brought to the ship.

Their worlds are gone, destroyed by the Ohm. They are refugees in an unforgiving Omniverse.

Transmigration 9 is an ark.

While Stacy is partially restored, including her core personality (which is far more personable), she is still severely damaged, and running on automatic somewhat. Until the ship can be repaired, podpops will keep occuring and they will be forced to go on missions to undo the damage the Ohm have wrought to the Omniverse. The threat of the being in Escherville is still a threat, one with no immediate solutions.

But they have allies out there, they have an AI watching over them, they have the smallest glinting traces of hope. Their loved ones are (hopefully) on board, and even beyond that, there is may be a chance, however small, of restoring their home universes.

Stacy broadcasts to the entire ship when it's all over, when all has been revealed.

||The bodies of the individuals that died today are being prepared for funeral services. A list of their names will be made available, though I can assure you that none are individuals any of you know. The funeral will be on Obs Deck in several days, and will be announced.||

||Those that wish to have their memories of their rescues restored, as proof their worlds are gone, will have a chance to request this after the services, but without grief counselors on board, I strongly recommend against it.||

||In the meantime, all of us must heal and recover from our ordeal. New areas of the ship have been made available, such as the Crew Lounge, and I have opened up the Crew Quarters for use, and cleared out the belongings of--||

Here she falters, sadness creeping into her voice.

||--of my original crew, so that all of you may sleep more comfortably. These quarters fit two people to a room, and have actual beds and sonic showers. Dining will still be provided in the Mess Hall, with periodic days of real food in the Lounge--they must be spaced out until my food stores are replenished with fresh food products.||

After a moment of thought she says: ||And because I think you've suffered enough, fornicative activities are now allowed--however, both parties must stop by the Medbay for a Contraceptive shot or this will not be allowed. These shots will provide protection for six months and do not protect against venereal disease, but all of you, barring several individuals with certain conditions--|| Like those, say, infected with zombie viruses, Steve ||--are currently disease-free.||

||The ship is now open, and the bridge team can relocate back to the Living Areas. The doors will remain open after they leave the bridge. I must now engage in heavy repairs. My AI will not be quite as available as usual. Please, take time to grieve, rest, and have your wounds treated. We will discuss more when everyone has recovered from this ordeal.||

The undead were pounding at the doors -- all of them, and the windows, and the walls in general for that matter.

The front doors were going to be a problem, though. They zombies were actually breaking through there.

Battle stations everyone!

...Okay, so maybe that movie was about vampires and not zombies.

But as the battle in the Vatican dragged on, it might feel like it had been going just that long.

And it showed no signs of letting up just yet.

Stacy jerks and shudders to a sudden stop, likely upsetting more than a few things already upset because the comms have stopped working. And deep down inside Stacy, on the first level, a little section thoughtfully titled "Contagion Containment and Quarantine" spilled open.

Hal 9000 had opened it up. And the things that had been kept there were still alive.

Or at least, they were moving...

Their groans echoed through the lower level as they spilled out of Quarantine 1, shambling and shuffling toward the Hub. The Hub would take them where they wanted to go. And what they wanted to do first was make some new friends.

So they went to the Pod Caverns. Then, after that, the zombies started heading up to the City...

[[OOC: Holy $#%&, Team Left Behind, ZOMBIES. Going to set up some subthreads, please wait until I do! INFO HERE, FIRST SUB-THREAD GO GO GO!]]

[OOC: Set during the Yeerk Trial. Only ping in with characters who were around for it -- characters that pod-popped during are okay too; and there will be other Movie Nights with less bendy-time issues for everyone to play in.]

Someone had gotten their hands on scrap stuff from various places all over the ship -- there, bits of the trays from the mess hall, here shredded pieces of plantsuit, over there some scrap wood -- and had decorated the upper floor with a variety of arrows pointing to the Sensoriums. One door stood wide open, leaking the sounds of movie sound tracks into the hall.

Tonight was Movie Night.

The Sensorium was set up like the biggest, most awesome home-theater that anyone could ever want. Lots of open floor space, and a variety of chairs, cushions, and blankets to choose from. And then there were snacks and drinks and the all-permeating smell of popcorn.

Paco grinned as he sent an open invitation to everyone on board. He couldn't believe he'd waited this long to do this.