If they were going to rebel (well, no longer a matter of if; a matter of when), Ildraniath knew that they were going to need more firepower than the average crew member tended to carry on their person. She, of course, had no need of further firepower. Her armor and her mind would serve her well enough. For many of the others, of course, they would need something more. Which was why she was paying a visit to the armory. In theory, Stacy might give her away. However, following that interesting performance at the punishment meeting, Ildraniath had reason to believe that Stacy wasn't about to give the crew away.

A gamble, of course, but Ildraniath was willing to risk it. So, the Eldar was perusing the armory. She tapped a button on her omnicomm and called up a blank document. She was going to need a list. And people to cart it all off later, but for now:

"Stacy. A list of all available small-arms and protable heavy weapons. Powered armor. Ammunition counts. And their effectiveness against heavily armored opponents."

|| Acknowledged, Ildraniath. ||

She bent over the control panel as the lists began to scroll past.

If she was going to do this, she was going to do it properly.

Fuu still hadn't found Hikaru or Umi. What she had were found her armor, glasses, and headband in the storage lockers. She had swapped the glasses, thanking Stacy for the substitute pair, and settled the headband in her hair.

When she touched the armor, she heard the voice. It wasn't in her head like the ship's had been. But it was a voice speaking for her ears alone.

Young woman from another world....

"Windam!" Fuu gasped, covering her mouth.

We have been taken from Cephiro. Why?

Fuu hugged the armor to her chest. "I don't know. We're on a ship in outer space, chosen as warriors to fight a powerful enemy.

There was a sensation of rumbling--she could picture him in her mind's eye, rustling his four wings. I guard Cephiro.

"The ship said that we're fighting destroyers of worlds. But..." She needed to talk to Umi, to Hikaru. "I don't know anything else. Not yet. I don't know if this is the truth, or anything about the allies and enemies we're supposedly facing. I don't know where the others are."

Then find the truth, Magic Knight. You must know what we are fighting for.

"I will." Fuu drew in a deep breath, then straightened up and donned her armor. The familiar weight settled strangely on the plantsuit. "Guru Clef is here."

Then speak to him. Was that relief in Windam's voice? Fuu's stomach tightened. She had never heard any of the Rune Gods speak with anything but utter certainty--something that came with millenia of watching over their world. But now he had been removed from everything he had existed for. He was just as lost as she was now, if not more. She, at least, had been to a world other than her own.

[ooc: THIS IS PRETTY MUCH JUST A SOLO LOG to establish how the ancient spirit manifesting as a mecha feels about this. situation Now that it's done I have finally tagged Fuu into Meat'n'Greet.]

Danny was, quite frankly, irritated beyond all belief. A little bit after his clone/cousin/sister Dani had been repodded, he too had been dumped back into podsleep for who knew how long. And really, it had been horrifying enough the first time. He hadn't really wanted to repeat the experience. But of course Stacy, GlaDOS, or maybe just his avia had other plans.

He stalked his way back up to Weapons and Possesions, and, diving straight into the piles of junk, started looking for his stuff.

"Nope, nope, nope, come on, where is that dang Fenton Thermos?" Danny muttered, elbow deep in a box

Lion-O was in the armory searching for a very specific weapon; the Sword of Omens. It didn't take him too long, once he figured out how to use the terminal. And the safety protocols. Once he got past those though, the sword was finally back in his possession, along with the sturdy Claw Shield. Lion-O fastened the gauntlet to his hip and examined the sword.

"Good to have you back. Better make sure you're the real one." Lion-O lifts the sword and swings it from side to side.

"Thunder, thunder, thunder! ThunderCats, Ho!"

The sword grows to its full length, and it shines the ThunderCats symbol onto the walls, roaring. Lion-O smiles as the sword shrinks back down and he sheathes it in the Claw Shield.

"Perfect."

The Imperium of Mankind is known for having rather unusual habits and superstitions.

A rather common one is that everyone, including those not of the Cult Mechanicus, believes all machines and weapons, particularly old and powerful ones, have spirits of their own, aptly named Machine Spirits. It is said that to anger a weapon's machine spirit is to invite it to turn against you in combat, but to honor it will cause it to serve you well. As such, it is common to treat particularly old and storied weapons with reverence, almost as though they were people themselves.

So what Cargn is currently doing in the Weapons and Possessions Lockers might seem a bit odd at first glance.

The robed figure was currently kneeling down on the floor, and before him lay the massive halberd he normally wielded in battle, atop a fine, crimson cloth wrapping. He appeared to be muttering some type of prayer in an odd form of Latin.

"Somni salvus, Frater," he said quietly once the prayers were complete. With due reverence he began wrapping the weapon in the cloth covering.

To say Cargn had a deep connection with the weapon was something of an understatement. The Burden of Truth had been at his side for nearly eight centuries, the very same weapon he had received upon his induction into the Grey Knights. For him, it was less a weapon and more an old friend and irreplaceable companion.

However, at the same time, Cargn was a practical man, and he knew when something was necessary and when something needed to be set aside. And now, he needed a different type of tool.

He stood up, handing the wrapped weapon to one of Stacy's waiting tendrils for storage, watching quietly as it was taken away. Several seconds later, another tendril arrives with another wrapped weapon, this one's covering far more worn and old looking.

||Here is the item you requested,|| Stacy said in her usual manner, as Cargn took the item and removed its wrappings. Beneath was a rather old, ornate staff, the cold, empty eye sockets of the crystalline skull that topped it staring directly into Cargn's own.

"May I prove worthy enough to deserve your strength," he said reverently.

It's one of those days where Jamie's found himself with free time and no idea how to spend it. He's already finished his shift in Engineering, there's not any training, and for once, he's not actually hungry. Neither the Sensoriums or the Media Library really sound appealing right now, which leaves...what?

Idly wandering the halls, he supposes. If only he could get into the TARDIS, he'd have something to do, but the Doctor was off who knows where and without the Time Lord around, he's stuck. Oh, sure, his old room was still in there, but what good did it do him if he couldn't get into it?

He's passing by Weapons and Possessions when he hears a noise that seems to be coming from just inside the door, and he stops to listen. It doesn't repeat itself, and he frowns slightly. Maybe he misheard. With a shrug, he's about to move on when it happens again - a faint *thump* this time, as though something in there had been knocked over. There's a flash of movement, just out of the corner of his eye. It looks for all the world like a small black and white cat streaking through the room, which is...unusual, to say the least.

That's enough to gain his full interest, and he slips inside in full 'creeping quietly' mode to see what's up. It's not exactly like he can hide that he's doing so from the hallway, however, and anyone else in the area may very well notice what he's up to.

(( OOC: Rachel is here as well as Jamie and will likely be joining in at some point. When exactly that will be...? Only the Shadow she knows. Enjoy! ))

Somebody's busy in Weapons & Possessions.

Jack's Super Secret Evil Project that he's been slowly working on, with much interruption, for a while now has finally come to fruition. At least, so he hopes. It all depends on what happens right now.

He activates the small, box-shaped device he's holding. It starts clicking softly. Jack grins.

Something's here.

He steps sloooowly further into the room and starts ranging along the stacks. As he approaches the end of one row, the clicking starts picking up.

He laughs.

"Jack," he tells himself, already gloating, "you really are a genius."

Beckett was down in the Weapons and Possessions locker, digging through the piles of unclaimed items, looking for two particular objects: her gun, and her police badge. The gun was her main focus; she hated being unarmed in a place like this, and the badge was just an object of convenience... A reminder of who she was and what she did.

She was absorbed in her search, but that didn't mean she couldn't tell when someone was coming up behind her. It was ironic how the timing worked out, because just as she got the feeling that she wasn't alone, she touched something familiar. Looking down, she saw it was her gun; the same one she carried around every day, and kept on her even at night.

With a smile, she picked up the weapon, and checked to see if it was loaded. It was, which made her relax a bit. Just having it there made some of the unease go away. She hadn't found her police badge, but the gun was enough for now, so she turned around and asked, "Who's there?"

Lone had intended to go to Weapons and Possessions to try and find some of her gear. She missed her Pip-Boy, and wanted to find something more protective than the suit made out of plants. Instead, what she found was a treasure trove.

Shelf upon shelf of stuff, some recognisable, some not. And no-one in sight.

The plantsuits ability to form pockets was being put to the test as Lone browsed, sometimes climbing up onto a shelf in order to check the top. Anyone watching her would have noticed the methodology in her movements as she swept back and forward. There was no way that she would manage to look through it all, but it looked like she was going to give it a good try.

Her hair which was loose when she entered, was slowly being pinned back by the bobby pins that she kept finding here and here. A screwdriver had taken pride of place in a breast pocket, and a thigh pocket held something shiny that she's sure will come in useful for something.

Currently, Lone is bent over a pile that has slid off a shelf, poking through it. With a happy noise, she pulls free a teddy bear and sets it aside, before diving straight back into the pile.

Slobo either didn't know or didn't care the racket he was making in W&P. Things were flying about until he found what he was looking for. A large selection of single articles of clothing that could easily cobble together something, a jar of hair gel, and a mirror. He wasn't happy with the mirror, he had hoped for a full-length, but beggars can't be choosers. He sat there, going through the collected clothes. First, there was a really nice red leather trench. Unfortunately, it was made for someone easily 6'5". He tossed it aside and decided to work on his hair first, since finding male clothing in his size was rather... difficult. He's so obsessed on this preening that he can, for once, easily be snuck up on by people other than ninjas.

Even with Stacy's guidance, it took Tennessee quite a while to find what she was looking for in the more restricted areas of Weapons and Possessions. There's just so damn much stuff—! But she tracked it down, finally: a benign-looking hard-shelled case sized like a coffin, sealed with a series of locks down the side and a reinforced, solid-state control panel.

As she toggles the display controls and starts punching in security codes, and as the container unseals and starts to open with a hiss, she hums dramatically.

Retrieving the shiny-slick bodysuit thing within from the preservative goop it was resting in is easy, though the slime splashes her in the process. She checks that nobody's around, then quickly strips out of her plantsuit, starting to awkwardly work her way into the suit, getting all the support equipment arranged properly against her. (The suit—or the base layer of it, anyway, as there's an assortment of sleek-fitting extra panels and attachments—is form-fitting but not skintight, given the extra thickness of it.)

The torso, the arms... finally she seals the odd segmented helmet in place, the faceplate splitting open to both sides as the suit's systems initialize. Only her face is visible now, with the blue-green mild iridescence of the suit and its slim-fitted back and leg and arm and torso hard-shell packs covering all of her.

Gauron's taken it upon himself to update the inventory lists for Weapons and Possessions, and make sure everything's in proper order - it's a task that should keep him well away from everyone else for a while, because sometimes, he just has a bad habit of grinding salt into the wounds. Usually, his ruthless pragamtism is an asset, but when it comes to mourning, there's only so much of it he can put up with before he starts being a jerkass about the fact that feeling sorry for yourself accomplishes nothing, and is likely only to lose you whatever you've got left. He's well aware that just being completely right won't earn him any friends, under the present circumstances - and, for the first time in his life, circumstances make it important that he actually try to get along with people.

So he's shut himself up with Stacy, the equipment lists he made for the zombie attack, and the inventory he's brought back from the Vatican, for now. He's pulled up several of Stacy's older inventory lists to compare against the one they've just finished compiling, along with any official or unofficial sign-out lists she might have that go beyond just the weapons she's returned to newly podpopped crewmembers. He doesn't yet have an accurate way of recording whether the ammo from the zombie fight that he didn't bring up with him was expended or is in the possession of crew members, but he supposes he'll figure something out. In the short term, though, a worrisome trend is beginning to emerge as he compares and updates the list: there are a lot of pieces that seem to have just vanished. Of course, the pirates come immediately to mind as the probable culprits, but he's checking through any video logs Stacy has of the area and trying to compile a timeline of the thefts, just in case. After all, it's not like they know everyone who's onboard; there's still that red-haired maniac who turned up briefly during the Yeerk charlie-foxtrot running around unaccounted for.

Bored and seriously needing a way to distract herself from knowing her world was gone, Claudia had decided that the ship did indeed warrant more exploring. Blah blah blah, she'd heard the warning of not exploring on one's own. But C'MON! The ship was pulsing and was fleshy and all around ew! How'd they just expect her to sit around???

Walking a little bit further, and realized that she must have stumbled across the Weapons and Possessions locker. Grinning, she peeked inside and seeing that there was no one else inside, sauntered in and looked around with wide eyes.

"Dude no way!" she squealed her gaze falling on various objects that she recognized from various movies and video games she'd played.

"Sweeeeeeeeeet!" Man, Artie would go nuts in this place! Her eyes widened as she slowly walked around the room, her fingers trailing along various objects and her mouth seemed to be twisted up in a perma grin. This was waaaaaaaaay too cool!

Hearing a noise behind her, Claudia suddenly spun around and her elbow caught the edge of a cage -sending it crashing to the ground. Wincing, she looked around, hoping that no one had heard the sound. Well since no one had come barreling in demanding to know what was going on, she seemed safe at the moment...

Or so she thought.... Until she heard a whimpering sound coming from around her feet.

Looking down, she smiled seeing what looked like a fuzzy ball of fur looking up at her with the most pathetic eyes she'd ever seen. "Awwwwwwwww! Aren't you cuúuuuuuuute?!" Claudia cooed and leaned over to pick it up. It looked oddly like Fizzgig from The Dark Crystal and awww! It was too sweet! But as she reached for it, the fur ball snarled at her and snapped at her with a row of very sharp, very pointy teeth.

"Hey! What the-" Claudia cried, snatching her hand back before the creature could latch onto it. "So NOT cute! HEY!" She squealed, jumping back as it snapped at her ankles. "AHHHHHHHHH!" She quickly scaled up one of the lockers as the ball of fluff decided that her ankles would make a most excellent snack.

Peering over the edge of the locker, Claudia scowled down at the furry thing. "Not cool! So not cool...." She sighed, her gaze drifting toward the door. NOW would be a good time for someone to actually come in. Nooooooooow would be good.... Or now... "Helloooooooooooooooo??? A little help here! Someone? ANYONE?!"

shuffle

shuffleshuffle

CRASH

...

shuffleshuffle

These are the sounds coming from the Equipment Lockers right now, as the ship's resident little green(-ish) alien loots through it, looking for nothing in particular.

Oliver has come across a couple things he seems to like, though. He seemed to enjoy playing with an old lighter he found Yay fire!, as well as a military-style helmet (which he's currently wearing, too big even for his oddly-shaped insect head).

Yet it seems to be a lone, ratty old shoe that seems to interest him the most...particularly when he tears off the rubber from the bottom of it and starts eating it.

...He certainly seems to be enjoying himself, at least.

Otacon had a problem. Well, a problem slightly more pressing than the sentient ship, aliens, multiverse, and--

...actually, it was a relatively small problem.

The engineer was going to need two things if he was staying here for an extended period of time: the more important of the two was his labcoat and by extension the assorted junk in the pockets of said labcoat. (The other was a bottle of brown hair dye, but that could wait).

He remembered confiscating a pack of cigarettes from the Snake in his timeline, and now the one he met here was looking for some. Of course, Otacon wouldn't give them up without a fight. Not to mention he could use the several different screwdrivers in the pockets of his coat as well.

And that brought him to the problem at hand...he was quite lost. Otacon hadn't yet realized, however, that due to either a streak of dumb luck or some twisted form of instinct he was exactly where he needed to be.

Indy did not like this ship. He did not like the meatiness. He did not like the tentacles that looked like snakes. He did not like the people who greeted him by yelling "Snake!" He did not like green eggs and ham the fact that he was wandering around hatless.

As much as he disliked the ship, he did like the fact that there was so much to explore on this ship. A quick look around the city revealed lost temples, old ruins, basically everything Indiana lives for.

Unfortunately, such explorations would have to wait. At least, explorations other than the weapons and possessions locker would have to wait. The good archaeologist was looking for something. Not some priceless artifact or unknown relic, he was looking for a hat. A simple, brown hat.

But it was Indy's most important possession, and he had to find it.

(OOC: This isn't the "official" weapons and possessions thread, Kelly asked Bella where it was and Bella decided to lead the way.)

Bella arrives in the lockers at an easy jog. Considering the person following her is Kelly, it shouldn't have been even close to a challenge for her to keep up. Bella doesn't care, they're here and that's what matters.

"This is Weapons and Possessions," she says. "New things are close to the front. Things further back belong to those who still sleep. At least, that is what we think. The ship moves things when new ones wake."

Nothing's really catching Bella's eye, or she'd totally waste a violation on something more impressive than this hatchet. Sure, it might help her assert her dominance over Sawyer that she took something he considered his, but there has to be a better weapon for her to carry in Crinos form.