Dustin being well... Dustin, decided to help out with the City people to see if anyone needed help. Because that's what Dustin does, he helps. So despite the brief painful encounter with a stranger as he headed to the City, he was ready to help. Even if he felt a tad weird, almost a clammy feeling in his head. He arrived at entrance and moved quickly

"Man, that little guy can sure bite hard..." He said very annoyed at the pain.

How could he sleep with all of this on his plate?

( Last time at the command center... )

Could he really build morphers and distribute them? With his original friends absent and increasingly unlikely to be released by Stacy, that meant creating a new team from the crew members here. It was a thought that had a list of implications increasing every second. Clearly, this fledgling idea in the back of his mind would require some careful consideration before he acted.

This thought process, he believed, would be a little easier away from this place that contained so many memories. After copying the blueprints to his omnicom and gathering the raw materials he found, he exited the Command Center and made his way up to the observation deck. It was late at night, and therefore unlikely to be very crowded. That was a good sign, he thought, but late night conversation wouldn't exactly hurt him either.

Billy found a comfortable meat-couch and started tinkering with this first Green morpher, allowing his worries to sink to the back of his mind. From what he had seen on the blueprint, this Power granted weaponry far more versatile than his own. There would not be arsenal envy with the new Green Ranger if he went through with this, Billy told himself.

There was a newcomer on board the meatship. She'd been grabbed by GLaDOS right after she'd popped out of a pod, gotten dressed, and grabbed her belongings. Now that she'd been spat out, she was pissed off. Well, more pissed off than usual.

( Cut for bad language and behavior, warning her userinfo and in the OOC comm and oh guys I am so sorry for this. )

The Person: Aang, the Avatar, master of all four elements, truly an individual to be reckoned with.

The Place: The Lounge. Right now, he was in the kitchen practicing his Airbending via the highly deadly art of--

Making fruit pies. What? It took some very precise Airbending to get the fruit fluff all fluffy on top. Good practice.

And eating the fruits of his labor was, uh...exercise for his jaw, yeah. And stomach.

Okay, so he was just hankering for cake after all that time with GLaDoS. It was still good Airbending practice, though.

And he brought the rest out to be served to whoever had a hankering for confectioneries.

"Hey, do you want a piece of fruit pie?"

Come and let me bake you the pie of my people.

The plantsuits and space age clothing are so warm they almost forget they're in an environment that's negative seventy degrees Fahrenheit, (-21 degrees C). This would likely explain the snowball fight right in the middle of the mission. The mission that they've all forgotten. Remember the mission, guys? The mission to revive the Spirit of Giving? That mission?

They have to revive the Spirit of Giving hidden away in its own pocket dimension, accessible only by a portal they probably can't find. Where could this portal be? It could be anywhere! It could be under the ice, under the sea, at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean.

The portal could be... suddenly wavering in the sky above them, like the aurora. Yes, there it is up in the sky, pushing the clouds out of the way to expose the sky overhead, caught in its three-month night, the stars sparkling in the frigid air. The sweeping colors probably remind them of the view from Obs Deck, and as it descends down from the sky closer to the snow, it bathes them all in a curtain of flickering pinks, greens, and blues. The edges of it burn white and then the portal opens up to a white space, that they can't see into. There is the delicate sound of bells coming from somewhere.

Their snowball fight did this.

The spirit thrived on joy, after all. What else would be the key to its home?

Well, what are you waiting for, folks? Dive in.

[ooc: tag away.]

They now know what they're up against: space pirates. Interdimensional kidnappers and ruthless scallywags, that hijack ships, and sell the ships themselves and their contents for profit.

Their spaceship is rammed through the hull of the bridge, they're outnumbered fifteen-to-one, and the pirates have some very shiny tech on their side. But even with Stacy suppressed, the crew has her on their side, as she's trying her best to hide them from view and not allow her internal defenses to be used against our stalwart Meatcrew.

Now, in the area outside the bridge, which is home to a wide open space surrounded by a network of hub tunnels and the like, the crew is going to make their stand against the pirates--and the success of this fight will decide the fate of the rest of the crew. It's not easy task, either, considering the powerful weaponry the pirates have at their disposal, and the physical strength, cyborg augments, and powers a number of them have. But they do have a plan.

Will Team GTFO succeed, reopen the ship, and be able to go back to help the others fight against whatever was released against them? (Is it already too late to help them all?) Or will they fail, will those Left Behind have to cross their fingers and hope for the best, will the crew be doomed to a horrible fate in the meat markets (both literal and figurative) of the of the pirate black markets known as the Chopping Blocks?

[ooc: As usual, old threads are still open. And subthreads will be left open so folks can tag them. For instance, even after the subthread with the pirates retreating goes up, the pirate FIGHTING can still be tagged. You can also tag multiple subthreads, since it's a big-ass brawl and you can do fun stuff like having your character flung across the fight.

OPEN FOR TAGGING]

Jaime Reyes was still alive, not that most of Team GTFO knew it. He lay still as death in front of Hal 9000, the scarab slowly working on repairing the damage he'd used to fake his death.

The only people that knew what had really happened were the telepaths. And they had some important information to pass on to a few of the others before anyone else got injured -- or worst, killed for real.

You have my sincerest apologies, but I have my mission.

The traps start. Rotating blades coming out of the walls and floors and ceilings, jets of fire, lasers, holographic enemies. The clear walls of the maze let them see what's happening to everyone else.

The traps start, and they have to stay alive despite them. If they stop avoiding them, it's their own fault, you see, if they die. That makes it indirect enough for Stacy's Anti-harming-the-crew protocols to be avoided, as Hal, despite his reprogramming, still has to follow some constraints.

Please commence with killing yourselves by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The only chance the group has is if they work together to stay alive, and somehow they have to take out the shield projectors creating the maze even though they themselves are shielded...

[ooc: Cooperation is key, people. Hal can only adapt to one power/skill-set at a time, not all of them.]

Team GTFO gathers in the Living Area Level, near what appears to be a blank wall near the Sensoriums, and now it's time to distribute equipment, go over the specifics of the plan, and get ready to commence Operations. With a capital 'O'.

There's a multitude of robot drones and other equipment about.


[ooc: Read instructions for these threads here! Edit: Srsly. Read 'em. Try to keep all the subthreads as one consecutive thread. Please?]

[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.

The meeting is over, the teams have been assigned, the plans have been laid out. It's time to get weapons.

It's time to wish each other luck, and say goodbyes--with the hope that they're only "good bye for now"s.

It's about to get very hairy from here on out.

Another day, another podpop. The crew and command crew has gathered on Obs Deck to greet the newbs, but right now the atmosphere is tense. People are taking turns on rotations to alternately hunt for Sam--who'd been kept in prison during the trial to present his assassinating the Yeerk-- and guard said parasite so it can have a fair trial. The Jury is in recess, for the moment, but will be deciding the Yeerk's fate very soon. A bunch of new people thrown into the mix is tremendous complication.

Meanwhile, the newbies are waking up to a strange, new world, one unlike anything they may have ever seen before. In the Obs Deck, the light of stars--and parallel universes--streaks past in a sleek, transcendent sheet of multi-colored lights in the large, eye-like windows. (They're inside the eyes, looking out, it seems). The statue in the center of the room, going up the domed ceiling is intimidating--and seems to be looking at them.

The tension is palpable, though a few individuals are trying to cut through it with friendliness for the benefit of the scared and bewildered new people now waking up from their gooey slumber.

Sokka would call himself a rational man. However, being randomly deposited on a living ship that travelled through the stars, being given clothes that were apparently alive and being surrounded by a bunch of strange people was not at all a rational thing. So he did what anyone else would have done. He went to the sensoriums to try and pretend he wasn't where he really was.  He was in the eerily accurate courtyard of Master Piandao's extensive home. It was kind of relaxing, being somewhere familiar to him.  Still, the thoughts of this strange new place were all that ran through his head  He was going to have to look after Katara, even if she was probably one of the best waterbenders to ever walk the planet. He was her older brother and it was his responsibility to get her home, no matter what happened.  The people were strange and wonderous and he had seen things he didn't know how to explain.

He sighed, shook his head. Clear your mind, Sokka. He paused, still for a moment before he drew his sword in a single fluid movement and dropped into a stance before working elegantly through a series of movements, flowing easily from attack to defense and back again, blade humming as it cuts through the air. This was the best way to work off stress and keep focused, exercise and practice, pure and simple.

After being released from stasis, having the slime removed from their bodies and clothed in the creepy, pulsing leaf-suit that everyone wore, and being taken to the Weapons & Possessions lockers to collect their belongings, the new arrivals would find themselves standing in the Observation Deck. Round windows lined the fleshy walls, revealing the bright display of lights that was inter-dimensional travel. They would also discover that there were people--members of the command staff and crew that had woken earlier--waiting for them.

There were two things Ron used the Sensorium for when he needed to get his mind off of missing Kim. One was training with Tai Shing Pek Kwar, and the other? Was cooking.

"Alrighty, tonight's meal du jour? Stir Fry à la Stoppable, cheese biscuits,a ndfor dessert? Chocolate cake.""

"Yay! Cheese bisuits!" Rufus squeaked.

Worf paced in the dining hall, waiting (with some impatience) for the team under his command to arrive. He was aggravated by the disrespect shown earlier by one Ron Stoppable and was concerned that the same flippant attitude would permeate the team. He would have to ensure that such a thing did not happen. A glance towards the entrance and a firm nod is the only greeting the first arrivals receive.

Jack's kind of annoyed right now. Well, more than kind of. Leon took his omnicom! What gives him the right, huh? Jack knows he probably shouldn't have hacked Sam's, but didn't it turn out alright in the end? Heck, everyone should be hailing him as a hero for finding the guy's plans! Not that Jack much likes the idea of being thought of as a hero, but still. Is a little respect that much to ask?

So right now he's falling back on the oldest standby in the book for being frustrated with nothing to do about it: busting stuff up.

Jack has the sensorium set to replicate a particular room in his evil lair. It's mostly bare concrete with some lines painted on the floor, it's the room he usually uses for assembling any really big bots. Instead, he has five smaller ones sitting ready. He's set his helipack off to one side so he doesn't accidentally get it damaged. He holds the Monkey Staff in both hands.

"Monkey Staff!" he shouts, activating it. "Alright fightbots, bring it!"

The robots spring to life and come at Jack. Clearly, they know kung fu. Jack? Jack only sort of knows kung fu. But that's not stopping him, and he has the staff making him much tougher and more agile than normal.

"YAAAAHHH!"

If you look in on the loud crashing and random monkey sounds, he's bouncing all over the room beating the crap out of robots. If you watch one, you'll notice they pick up any broken off limbs, repair themselves, and return to the fray regularly. Jack seems to be just getting started.

Who knew he could actually fight?

"Say nightie-night and kiss.. me.. just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.."

It's stuck in his head. It's been stuck in his head for days. Just going round and round and round. Cerebral cortex on a spin cycle.

"While I'm alone and blue as can be.."

The problem is, he's used to having something to do. Used to being able to do something -- you know, fight the wacky-looking alien bad guy, rip the universe a new one, stand on his head and recite pi to fifty places -- something. Job done, go home, end credits. Over.

But now, here on Stacy Stacy Bee-Bloo Blacey, now he's got nothing to do except sit around in the grossest onesie ever and eat mush and clean Winona and try not to go even crazier because he's on a giant space meatball hurtling through time and space and he's pretty sure he saw Spock walking through the halls and he's almost certain one of the statues down in the city is Superman and the woman he loves left him for a clone of himself and his friends have all gone home and it's -- it's tough.

It's tough.

And now he's got this song stuck in his head.

"Dream a little dream of me.."

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of one of the mess hall tables, John Crichton points his pulse pistol at the stack of food trays he's set up nearby and squeezes off a shot. A squawk of red light. The trays explode into a thousand tiny bits. John raises the barrel of the pistol to his lips and blows away an invisible puff of smoke. Hasta la vista, baby.

There is an empty spot at a table. Completely and utterly empty. Everyone knows no one is sitting there and there's no obvious sign someone IS going to sit there.

That is until someone is suddenly THERE with no prior sign of being anywhere near there. In fact, not many may recognize him. He wasn't around for any of the pod popped meetings, and he certainly wasn't the same ninja who was a doctor. For one, this one had a hat and no lab coat. Also a bit shorter too.

Dark Smoke Puncher figured since people DID know he was here now, he might as well try to get to know the crew. If it really was a secret ninja battle royale, than at least he could get to know his opponents instead of getting jumped because it was harder to hide from ninjas.

People may notice that his glop that was called food was decreasing in volume, yet he never moved his mask. It was clear he was eating too as he stated, "dawg, this stuff is rank!" Really, he'd prefer his mom's 'famous stewed beats.'

It's big meeting time! Word of mouth gets everyone gathered in the Obs Deck--everyone. New, old, the entire crew is there and that makes it clear that there's close to a hundred of them, if not more.

When they've all arrived, a blue bubble pops up around them, courtesy of Blue Beetle, to block them all from Stacy's sensors. Most of the new people were given the basic rundown by Cybil or Chief when they were first released. Some of them have already joined a discussion with a the Commanding Officers and department heads. Some have had a chance to explore a bit. Some were only just recently released.

[ooc: READ THIS BEFORE TAGGING.]