The surprising thing about Stacy was the Doctor hadn’t thought she couldn’t be more beautiful, in all her (sometimes) slimy, brilliant glory.

Then he saw her true face, right before she fought back with the rest of the crew.

Ah. So maybe he can be wrong from time to time, the Doctor finding that life on Stacy with the rebellion was easier in that you weren’t stumbling over Daligig or Kessek giving their impressive glowers, as if it was difficult not to just step on you and be done with (well, that and trying to avoid them when they decided enough was enough and it was far too long since they’d shot anything)…and then there was the clean-up. Considering how hard the Daligig had fought back, the Doctor had to say he expected far more casualties than Stacy’s crew had and this was probably the part where that voice in the back of his head bothering him with all sorts of things like niggling feelings.

It was probably telling him all sorts of annoyingly logical things, like in the end they probably should have been spacedust. He told it to shush.

The Doctor threw himself into trying to fix the TARDIS now that he had a second wind of sorts. With Stacy being twice as beautiful as before, the work was coming along much faster than before, now that she wasn’t resisting him. In fact, he’d go so far that she’d even given him advice – not that he’d be ready to admit to his companions that yes, the Doctor could at times need jiggery-pokery tips from a ship. At this rate, he thought he could actually tell Jamie, Barbara, Ian, Victoria and all his other friends a proper when instead of hedging around it and sending them on errands to get parts he didn’t even need. The Doctor roamed the halls of Stacy, sometimes in the hanger, sometimes rummaging about the City, picking his way through the damage and looking for anything that could stand in for an influx injector (or a toaster. A toaster would actually be better than a standard-issue injector!).

So yes. Right! The Doctor was in need of a toaster/influx injector. He just may temporarily kidnap anyone – or anything – he thought might be useful on that front.

[The Doctor will have met your character and kidnapped them for this. This is basically for characters okay with having somewhat short-term CR with Eleven (probably a few months OOCly?) and continuing CR )]

Sprawled out on her front, right in the middle of the spacewalk, is one Vala Mal Doran. She's booked out a mini-player video thingy from the Media Library and is watching re-runs of 'Dallas' of all things, idly kicking her legs around in the air behind her. Maybe the recent shore leave gave her the taste for cowboy hats as she's still sporting the one that she got on Geartopia, and maybe she thinks it gives her that Pam Ewing look when she's at the ranch.

Vala looks like she was simply lying on any floor. Except because it's the spacewalk, it looks like there's a woman in a cowboy hat and pigtails floating in space. Not your everyday scene, but she's as relaxed as if it were. She's decided she quite likes it here, if she can see the stars then she can imagine being back home and maybe she can fool herself into thinking she's back on the Odyssey on her way to Atlantis. There's also not too many people around - and in particular, no Daniel.

She's been avoiding him ever since the great big shiner popped up on her cheekbone. Somehow she didn't think he'd be particularly impressed if he knew she'd been in a bar fight. So if he saw it then she'd have to make up all these lies about how she got it and maybe it was just best to give him a wide berth instead. That way she didn't have to lie.

The ridiculous part in finally being free from the psychotic program that ran and maintained the mazes Esplin had been running through with this soft human body for who knew how long was the fact he couldn't stop moving once he was out of them. Semi-familiar noises caught by these less than optimal ears would have him spinning around, looking for the origin. He was tense, taking stock of side-areas and nooks to shoot into or duck within, depending on what ludicrous thing was after him now.

Restless, plantsuit clad feet eventually found the long walkway that led into Hydroponics, pausing at the start. It was a lot of straight, inescapable space to wander, and he had no illusions over what this body could do. Other than fall, roll, and stand up again. Repeated far too often for his personal tastes, as he learned his mindless, human body was less well balanced (if more even gaited) than the Gedd through which he'd first discovered what it meant to see.

He still considered Hydroponics a gigantic waste of space, nothing like the memories he'd borrowed of what his homeworld was like, harsh and grating and the height of survival of what moves fastest and moves first. Anything Aldrea might feel, instinctual, was a curious memory to turn over and examine. Andalites prized their concepts of carrying some home with them where-ever they went. That he could identify, in the loosest sense appreciate, what that meant left him with the beginning of a sneer on his face. Or perhaps he was suffering from indigestion. None of his expressions read correctly on a human face. Gedds, Hork-Bajir, and Andalites all lacked the complete, soft, helpless moldability of the human form.

Disgusting.

"Hydroponics." Tasting the sounds, talking out loud to himself in the way he'd started to when running mazes, getting used to the feeling of this form of vocalization. It was far less effort than enunciating with the Hork-Bajir's hard mouth and reluctant tongue. "I want the Media Library."

Feldt had been in the hangar for quite a while. She had managed to get the parts that she needed to repair the Celestial Being Gundams, but it had taken her a long time to do it. Sure, she had the Meister's help, but they didn't have the swarm of Haros that they had back on the Ptolemy. The Haros were good with repairs, especially with the platforms that they had built for them.

She needed to relax and get away from the mobile suits and other pilots in the hangar. The Spacewalk was one of her favorite places to go. It was the closest thing to the viewing deck on the Ptolemy that she would get. Here she could just relax and watch the stars. She enjoyed doing it for so many ears. This was different, but still relaxing.

She didn't know how long she would be in here, but if any of the other Celestial Being members wanted to find her, they would know to start with the spacewalk. For now, she was just glad to be alone.

"Toothless! Oh, Toooothless! You hungry, bud?"

Hiccup still preferred to feed the dragon, even if Toothless could will up food anytime if he wanted. It was their way of spending time together. Hiccup would feed him, Toothless would happily regurgitate some, Hiccup would politely decline and maybe fry up his own, un-eaten fish, and they'd just spend an hour or two in each other's company.

Toothless wasn't there in his Sensorium, though, but that didn't worry Hiccup at first. The dragon was free to wander where he wanted, and he could've been anywhere.

So he took to the halls.

"Toothless! Where are you, buddy? It's dinnertime! Toooothless!"

Not in his forge. Not in Daja's Forge. Not in the Drunken Dragon. Not near the river, not on Obs, not in the halls, not in any of the other Sensoriums, not there, not there, not there, not there.

Hiccup was in something of a panic towards the end.

"Toothless! Buddy! C'mon, where are you? Toothless! This isn't funny! No hide and seek, okay? Where are you?"

He knew. In his heart of hearts, he knew.

It was in the Spacewalk that he finally stopped, late, very late, when most were sleeping, when Astrid would've been expecting him come to bed, and there, heartbroken, he asked Stacy the question he knew was going to get an answer that he didn't want to hear.

"Stacy, where's Toothless? Where is he?!"

||There is no one named Toothless on the active crew roster.||

Repodded.

Hiccup knew he was safe, he knew he was even safer than if he was outside, he knew he'd see him again, but all the things he knew didn't matter when juxtaposed with one, simple fact. His best friend was gone. His best friend, who'd been by his side near-constantly since they'd taken their first flight together, was gone. His best friend who'd comforted him through the end of his world, through horror and being bed-bound with injuries, who'd kept him sane even when trapped in another form in Fairplay, who loved him all the times he couldn't love himself--he was gone.

Gone gone gone.

If anyone were to come by the Spacewalk, they'd find a teenage boy sitting on the floor, staring out of the clear panels of the tunnel there, at the stars and twisting dimensions going by.

"I'll find you, bud. She can't hide you away forever, and if she tries, I'll find you. I swear."

His knobbly knees were drawn up, with his arms around them, and he was very pointedly, very purposefully, not crying. He wasn't crying at all.

[ooc: Can be a standalone, as he's emo-ing pretty badly, but if anyone's nice to him during it, he'll probably seek them out and try to be friends later.]

Kara Zor-El floated in the Spacewalk, her arms crossed, and watched the stars pass by as the ship hurtled through space. For a moment, it gave Kara the illusion that she herself was floating in space, and she smiled. Reality then set in, and the smile faded. The last time Kara had roamed wild and free along the ship, she'd made a few mistakes - mistakes that she wasn't proud of. Not only had she gotten into a physical altercation with Sofia Mantegna (which led to the breaking of a bone or two), but she'd also had to end things with Julian Keller, who she'd seriously been feeling...something...for.

I am, she mused, seriously some bizarro version of social kryptonite. Rao help me. It was, she knew, a useless plea. Wherever Rao was, he wasn't here - nor were any of the other Kryptonian gods who Kara believed in. I'd say I've never felt so alone, but let's be honest. I've lost most of my family and friends because my planet was destroyed,I've been laid up in suspended animation for thirty-plus years, I've had to hide from some of the world's worst villains, and then I've landed here, where I keep on messing things up no matter how hard I try not to. I've been alone plenty. It just doesn't get any easier.

She brushed back a lock of hair and sighed. I wish I could change that.

If only wishes were horses. (Of course, for Kara, in some universes, that wish did manifest itself as Comet the Superhorse, but the same would never be for this particular Kara. Probably for the best.)

Feldt couldn't stand being around a lot of people for very long. The crew of the Ptolemy was a very tight knight crew and they were pretty much the only family that Feldt had ever known. There were a lot of other people in this place and she didn't like it. She couldn't wander around the City without feeling uncomfortable or like she was being watched. The hangar was a nice place for her to go to, since she grew up around the Gundams and she knew how to repair them. She was also more comfortable around the machines than she was other people.

Still, going to the hangar presented other dangers. There were a lot of other mobile suits around and the other pilots didn't like Celestial Being that much, rather, they didn't like the ideals of Celestial Being. She had grown up with them and the rules of secrecy. She had broke them once to tell Lockon about her parents and how they had died, but she hasn't done it again.

Everyone she had talked to here had good points. It may be against Celestial Being's ideals to fight in a war, but they were fighting to survive here. The world that they were trying to change was no longer around. She wasn't sure if she should be helping the other pilots out, she was a skilled CIC officer and could coordinate the mobile suits in battle, but she didn't know if Tieria would let her. She wasn't going to go against the Meister's orders, after all, he was the only one with a connection to Veda.

She found her way to the Spacewalk and could only stare. It was like the viewing deck on the Ptolemy. It reminded her of what she had lost and as she gazed out at the stars moving past, she could feel a tear falling down her face. She wiped it away and shook her head. She needed to think about what she was going to do here, not what had gone on in the past.

It was stupid, she had to admit, but Indigo had been avoiding most of the crew since the whole mess with the Spacewalk. Many of them hadn't heard of the incident, many didn't know the place existed. Which suited her damaged pride just fine. However, she still remembered, and the embarrassment still hadn't faded.

She was a machine. She couldn't forget.

Still, it was a sorry being that could spend their entire lives wallowing in self-pity over one incident. She'd probably done that already. It wouldn't stop her from staying in unvisited areas of the ship, not just yet, but that wasn't any sort of excuse to deny her hobbies. The last planet they'd stopped at, she'd bought enough paints to last her for a while. Odd as it was, she enjoyed watercolor painting.

And so, in middle of the transparent tube that made up the Spacewalk, Indigo stands, a canvas supported by a vibrant pink force field. Stacy had dropped out of the Bleed into a dimension that had caught her eye. A realm of dreaming telepaths, thoughts like thunder and rainbows flickering between sleeping, shifting forms.

She wasn't doing too bad a job of capturing it on canvas, either. Of course, capturing it perfectly would be impossible.

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.