Thank goodness Samus' bike was shipped down with them, or else she would be a lost woman.

Sure the relaxation is nice, but like hell she is used to it. She always needs to be doing something with herself. Sitting on a beach and shopping do not fulfill those requirements. Plus she had already done those two things. She's wearing normal clothes for once and sporting new boots. They aren't quite what was in fashion back in her home universe, but the stores here seem to lack blue bodysuits and orange two-pieces. How sad.

With all her vacation obligations taken care of, no one could criticize her for sneaking off alone. Well, they could, but they didn't have much of a case considering she did at least make an attempt to partake in some normal activities. She had done them only half-heatedly but it is still better than nothing, especially for Samus.

She took her bike. She doesn't know exactly where she's going, but she will find what she needs. She had been to enough of these "vacation planets" to know them. She used to hop between them back when she was getting started as a hunter and needed jobs. She rides through the back alleys. She's less likely to get stopped or spotted by an enthusiastic crew member trying to drag her along somewhere.

Except, one does duck into her path. He isn't going to try and stop her, though. She knows that. Instead, she slows and eventually stops, placing her feet onto the gravel road to steady the bike as it ideals.

"Trying to go somewhere? Or trying to get away?" she asked, even if she already knew it was the latter.

Suddenly, the usual relative peace of the ship is disrupted by a rather loud announcement from Stacy.

||Attention, Attention. All personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention. All personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention, all personnel...||

It's entirely likely that she won't stop repeating the announcement until, well, everyone reports to Obs Deck. The mouth in the huge statue on the wall opens, revealing a screen. On it, the dossier for the mission flickers into display, understandable to every person there. Smaller copies of the dossier appear in holographic form in front of everyone.

The planet's stats, right next to a rotating picture of it, blue with thousands of small islands just barely visible, are as follows:

( Mission Dossier )

--

...Waitaminute. That's no mission.

It's a goddamn vacation.

[ooc: SHORE LEAVE IS GO.]

In the city, there is the police precinct. In the precinct, there is a meeting room. In the meeting room is one bristling former captain of the ship, turned commander, turned lieutenant, turned--oh who the hell knows her rank now. Whatever her rank is, she wants updates, explanations, and to find out how the crew has fared in her absence. Hence why she told a few people to come see her, post-haste.

"So. What the A#%& have I missed?"

A pause.

"And forewarning, if any one of you even mentions cake, I'm shooting you in the @#%&ing face. Just putting that out there."

[ooc: one thread, new subthreads for new topics and such]

Amidst all the hubub of all the recent additions to the crew, Stacy suddenly stops whatever she was doing at the time across the ship to make an important announcement.

||Warning, general notice to all crew: One of the recently released crew mates, John Connor, has stolen a number of pieces of weaponry from the armory. It also appears he is mentally and emotionally unstable at this point in time. As he is armed and likely dangerous to the crew, it is highly recommended that the crew at large avoid him if at all possible, and that security teams be sent to secure him and the weaponry.||

||It seems he is currently down in the city, but as my sensors down there are still damaged, I cannot track his exact location.||

||Good luck, and be careful.||

With his bugout location secure, and now stocked with some food John decided it was time to get some weapons. Carefully he made his way to the armory making damn sure this time that no one else was around. He wasn't going to slip up again like he had at the Vatican.

Scrolling through the weapons in the armory computer he was impressed with the selection. Hell, some of these hadn't even finished being developed before Judgment Day occurred. If he wasn't god only knows where being ordered around by an AI, and it's slave crew he'd almost be happy about it. In a few minutes he had quite the list assembled. Double checking it one more time he submitted it to the computer.

[Access to that quantity of weapons is restricted. Please see the command staff for authorization. Any furthers attempt to retrieve weapons will result in you being locked out of this system until your access is reauthorized by the captain.]

He glared at the machine, and pulled out his computer. Interfacing it with the omnicomm he started searching for an access panel. Finding one he spent several minutes methodically prying it open enough to get to the console's guts. Patching in he began to run through sub systems one by one looking for a way in. Whoever had designed the security hadn't counted on someone for who information warfare was a way of life. Finally he found a crack in the armor. It wouldn't be pretty, and they'd know he'd been here but he didn't have a choice. It was act now, or let this opportunity slip by.

Running the program the computer began to send out the weapons to the caches John had designated. Now all he had to do was move them again so the crew couldn't track them down by just following the digital trail. Hopefully that would keep them guessing long enough for him to slip back to Grand Central unnoticed.

After another couple of hours he'd managed just that. Already he was prepping the weapons, and loading magazines just in case someone was smart enough to pick up his trail.

[ooc: Once again in case anyone wants it the list of weapons John has stolen is here. Once you see the sub-thread you want your pup in go ahead and tag it. I'll leave it to each thread to sort out their posting order. Have fun everyone!]

Stacy's voice speaks over the whole of the ship. What she has to say has become very familiar over the the podlings have spent here.

||Pod Release Protocols Initiating,|| she says. ||Please proceed to the Observation Deck to meet your new crew mates.||

Those crew members that don't head to the Obs Deck on their own are hurried there via gentle but insistent tentacles. A few people stop by Engineering to help bring and pass out omnicoms and comm rings to the new crew members as well.

[ooc: Only new characters and Command Staff can start new threads for introductions, to limit the number of threads. Everyone else, just tag in and have your guys greet the newbies.]

WHAM! Samus slammed another foe into the ground with her grapple beam before tearing through the abdomens of two more. Another lunged for her, but she ducked, rolling out of the way before popping up and popping of its head with her cannon. Countless number of blasts and explosions were fired by the woman in armor. The endless waves of enemies never let up, though.

"Stop," she called. The aliens the sensorium had picked for her froze. "End simulation."

She turned her back to the door while the enemies, the scenery, and the rest of the scenario disappeared around her. It was replaced by something much simpler, not unlike something out of a gym locker room. A water bottle and towel waited on a bench for Samus. Her armor dematerialized. She grabbed the towel, wiping away the sweat that indicated just how long she had been working before throwing the towel over her shoulder. She squeezed some water into her mouth before settling into a standing position, one hand on her hip, the other tapping on the bottle. She was thinking.

The sensoriums were excellent practice, of course. They certainly replicated any possible scenario well enough. They added endless possibilities to her practice routines. She could pull up any situation and work through it. And yet...

"I wouldn't mind a real opponent once in awhile," she muttered to herself.

Sometime during the regular comings and goings aboard the meatship, an announcement rings out across all portions of the ship.

||Attention crew,|| Stacy's voice says, ||As significant interest has been shown for it, and enough time has passed since the Nightmare King incident to prevent unnecessary mental issues, the procedure to unlock the memories of the destruction of your homeworlds is now available to all crew members. If you are interested, please proceed to any empty sensorium and I will begin the process.||

A slight pause, then...

||If you have a history of mental issues, please use extra consideration when deciding on whether or not to take the procedure. That is all.||

Should anyone decide to take her up on her offer and head to the sensoriums, they'd find a clean, clinical-looking white room with a dentist-style chair (sans scary drills, of course) in the middle.

||Please, take a seat.||

[OOC:Instructions.]

Hydroponics is an interesting place. Surprisingly, the name that brings forth the image of a sterile plant-growing lab actually belongs to a massive green space unrivaled by any of the grassy stretches of the city. There are trees here. Flowers. Weeds, even. Some from Earth, some clearly not due to shape, color, or some other strangeness.

It's not entirely overgrown, though. That might be because of the abundant animal life keeping the plants in check. They don't seem hostile, however, and it's oddly serene in here. Like an open, alien zoo. And the landscape is lovely.

The Master Chief is around somewhere, though he may not be readily apparent. You might find him drifting around the lab facilities near the door. He's hesitant to touch anything, but he's curious.

You are now free to move about the park.

[OOC: Just to be clear, you don't need to address the Chief. You don't even have to acknowledge he's there. This is an open post for free mingle-y goodness. Characters may eat/mess with the plants but animals may not be killed and eaten, Stacy will tell you and stop you by force if necessary. Otherwise, you may interact freely with them.]

Roy blinks from his newly attained stretch of floor, wondering at his overwhelming craving for some of that delicious cake that Gracia always made for his birthday.  He never ate more than one slice, but you know how these things go.  Two weeks of being taunted by a completely bizarre entity that he will never understand with promises of seemingly nonexistent cake tends to give you irrational hankerings for baked goods.

With a grunt, Roy heaves himself to his feet, tugging his greatcoat straight as he looks up and down the hall.  Where the hell is he?

"Engineering?" he mutters, sweeping off towards the left, ungloved hand sweeping through his hair.  He pauses to stare at his bare hand in confusion, wondering when that happened, frowns, shrugs it off, and keeps going.

Oh hey, Engineering.  What a surprise.

Yes, Leon did occasionally take a day off. They were few and far between, but even he had had no intention of working 24/7. Since there was, for the moment at least, no impending crisis hanging over their heads, he could afford to take off an extra day or two here and there.

At the moment, he was at the bar in the Drunken Dragon, having a beer. He hadn't had much time to come before, but he figured he'd check the place out.

Given that he's not busy, and beer puts him in a less linefacey mood, now might be a good time to approach him if you want to have a word.

(After this)

Dean had got some sleep, and now he was lying out in the Impala after having some beer from the Drunken Dragon tavern. It helped a little.

Not really.

He sent a comm to Sam earlier when he was more awake saying where he was, and that it was true.

Apocalypse canceled. No more angel condoms, no more Michael, no more Lucifer. The Winchesters were free from destiny's hold.


...No more Earth.

They failed. He failed.

||Artificial gravity deactivated.||

Stacy's automated voice rings out pleasantly through the halls of the ship. And suddenly, you are weightless.

Someone, somewhere, has done something.

Komali was under a table. The bottom was fairly clean, but that was only because the ship didn't provide much in the way of bubblegum. His sleeves were pressed up around his elbows, and for good reason— the white feathers coming in at his elbows were long enough to make long sleeves cumbersome and frustrating. He'd finally noticed the length when Komali went to scratch at his wrist and found what would soon be flight-worthy feathers peeking out of his sleeve.

And that was when the screaming started.

And so, for now, he was huddled in a ball under a table, waiting for Samus to rescue him from the horrors of Rito puberty. After all, how could he be growing feathers without the magic of Valoo's scales? What right did he have to that honor? He was just a coward.

Everybody has to eat, even super serious Spartan-II's.

The Chief's in the mess hall, sitting by himself and working his way through a ration of tasteless nutrient mush while working on something on his omnicomm. The Chief's never been one to really take refuge in the sensoriums to make food taste better, he's gotten used to it and doesn't even think about it much.

He's not unaware of what's going on around him, but he has most of the comings and goings of the room basically tuned out.

This means someone should bother him, y/n?

Ground vehicles were not Samus' specialty.

Yet, somehow she had ended up surrounded by them. She had wandered out of the hangar after doing a bit of ship maintenance and ended up in between rows and rows and rows of two-wheeled, four-wheeled, whatever-wheeled vehicles. Some where fancy. Some were incredibly strange. Some even matched those she would find in her own universe, but she ignored all of them.

Except for a gem she found. Well, it wasn't really a gem. It was actually pretty low-tech compared to everything else she could find. But there was a certain... charm to this one. This plain old 21st motorcycle caught her eye. She couldn't really explain it. Once she saw it though, she had to try it out. The key was in the ignition. Her foot was on the kick start. She just had to go.

Tex is in her usual haunt on the obs deck, and judging by her body language, she's rather grumpy about that fact. Her arms crossed, she glowers at nothing in particular-everything in her line of sight gets glowered at in the same way. She does seem interested in dealing with people, though-anyone who decides to wander across the obs deck will get an AI focusing on them instead of the furniture.

The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their numbers. After the revelation that their worlds are gone, many of them are even more eager to see people they knew from home.

Several people are set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicoms and comm rings. New crew-mates might see a green-skinned alien and snake girl among their number. There are also several authoritative-looking figures ready to introduce themselves.

There's a lot to tell the new people. It's going to be a lot to take in.

[ooc: Only new characters and Command Staff can start new threads for introductions, to limit the number of threads. Everyone else, just tag in and have your guys greet the newbies.]

The past few days had been mind-wracking for the Man of Steel. There were chunks of his memories missing - a lot of them he knew felt wrong. Something was wrong and he couldn't put his finger on it. At the same time, those missing memories were screwing around with something else - things he wanted to do.

Upon seeing the ravaged City after... something tore through it, well, someone had to clean it up.

The artificial sun's bright and warm... yet, it's not enough to actually put me back at full power. At the same time, though... Superman mused. ...this place isn't going to clean itself up. Better get to work...

With that, the hero began a long and tiring task of attempting to repair the City.

Indigo stands in the hallways, hands clasped behind her back. She doesn't pace, she doesn't weave or bob around. It's like she's a statue, waiting for someone to pass before her disdainful look. She's outside the Spacewalk's doors.

She doesn't expect that many people. Perhaps three Science personnel. Two or three from Security. Not much trouble. A small part of her wishes that more people were here to observe the opening of both the Spacewalk and Hydroponics, but the more logical part crushes that. If the creatures are dangerous, it would be wiser not to have any other crewmembers around.

So, she waits.