It's shaping up to be another average day on the Transmigration 9. Crew members are going about their business as usual and all is (to most appearances, at least) about as "well" as things ever are on the ship.

Some crew members are going to be stopped out of the blue by impact with a force field.

"Attention Crewmen: You have been chosen to participate in an experiment!" GLaDOS's voice informs. They're not alone, someone else that was nearby is also caught within the same narrow radius. "Participation is mandatory. Please try to relax and enjoy the experience, as this will improve the quality of the test results."

Clearly this is going to be a wonderful day for science.

"You and your new scientific partner are now on a date," GLaDOS goes on. "As it would be detrimental to our study of the date experience if you were to be separated, you must remain close to your partner for the duration of the experiment. This will be enforced with the Transmigration 9 Crewman Containment Field. Prolonged exposure to the Transmigration 9 Crewman Containment Field may have unexpected side-effects. While any side-effects encountered will be documented and your desire to offer yourself to science is commendable, it is not a necessary part of this experiment."

"You will be informed when the test has been completed. We would like to thank you in advance for your full cooperation in the experiment and failure to attempt to foil it in any way."

"The experiment has begun, so you may begin dating."

( OOC Notes Below Cut! )

The two women had waited until a good number of people had gathered in the sensorium next to where the Tapestry was kept. Sakura glanced toward Howard, wanting a visual reassurance that he was there with a recording device. He was someone she could count on for the paranoid sensibilities that she sometimes put aside in favor of other practicalities. With everyone gathered, they turned toward each other, and the sensorium came alive.
( Such a sight as we have seen... )... leaving everyone standing in the sensorium's blank interface as the mental replay shut down.

[ ooc: Feel free to make your own threads and discuss as your characters are want to do! You are absolutely not required to respond to either Barbara or Sakura's question threads. That is optional! ]

Who: Collab post between Cazali and Uva; otherwise, open!
Where: Around the sensoriums.
Summary: Cazali's trying to trick his body in to taking his core medals in the sensorium, while Uva stands "guard" outside the door in Greeed form. Both are pretty pathetic about it.
Warnings: Dumb and Dumber here may try to yummy anyone who makes themselves too available; if you don't want them to, just say so!

( Greeed are totally threatening villains, really you guys )

Even as early as his "birth", Cazali had been all about quickness over strength. The assassain; the retrieval unit sent in to gather evidence, or eliminate it. Speedy legs to get him in, light to blind the enemy's defenses, and wind to cover his escape. His technique was finely-tuned to a science, almost to the level of instinct. None of the other Greeed could top Caz's usefulness in affairs pertaining to hit and runs, and that was how it would always be.

He'd been distracted by the ship. It had been fun, and what felt like three months of solitude and "peace" was downright miraculous for any Greeed. He'd been plagued with foreign sensations, and some stupider part of his sentience had debated if some of it was due to "emotion". It was only natural that jitters had set in, and the cat doubted it was just him. Ankh had to have been feeling it too- the paranoia, feeling eyes on you, gritting your hands and teeth and insides, feeling the emptiness within. They could cover it up, but the emptiness was- and would always -be there. But it could be lessened. Ankh had some of his medals, Cazali was sure of it.

He'd genuinely not wanted his medals back for most of the time. The Greeed wasn't sure why, it just hadn't been...as strong a desire as it once had been. Sure, he'd always intended to get his medals back, and he'd shot himself in the foot by discussing his "feelings" with Zou, but it would come later, it could wait. But, that discussion had put the seed of a plan in his head- why had he assumed he'd need to get stronger to get his medals back? Had he completely forgotten his purpose, his chief skill? Speed was what Cazali was- all he needed to do, really, was get his medals. Defeating Ankh could come later, and would be much easier with more than one core medal inside him. Swipe the entire set- Ankh surely carried them with him. Hole up somewhere, slowly feed on the more useful ones (Mezul's? Maybe he would finally get to try Uva's...?) and lie in wait. The bird would come for him, right in to his den, and then...that was it. No more running.

The sudden realization had been too much. The desire had flushed through his system, driving him to standing in the same hallway day after day, waiting. Even as he went over his plan for the thirtieth time, his hands were shaking. Most of the crew was busy with some body snatching nonsense- it was the perfect time. He'd waited long enough. All he needed to do...was to steal the medals...and run...

(( OOC: All interested posters, please go here if you want to join in on kicking Caz's ass! There's a few things I gotta sort out, first! ))

Red Rose was a bar in Western Side that only a few brave men and women chose to venture into. Once the private property of one Snidley Pridlash, the bar was still full of sympathizers and men who could easily stick a knife into your back.

Which is why, of course, they'd only send the best for the job. At least they thought.

Allard, Nomalanga's right hand man, didn't really know the people he had picked out for it, but he was a good judge of character just by a person's eyes and attitude, and so, the quiet peace of this small place and all it's terrible men was interrupted by five people dressed in their best cowboy attires, looking about as dangerous as everyone else inside. Granted, their eyes first drew to the only lady of the group, Aya (aka Sharp Shooter), but she was flocked only by Stacy's best; Ash (Aka Iron Hand), Mal (Aka Lonesome Cowboy), Eine (Aka Fire Hands) and Han Solo (aka Han Solo I mean Scoundrel). Did they really need those nicknames? No but you had to admit it sounded cool.

They had been dressed up to fit even more with the decor, sporting pairs of leather pants, spurs (they made the best noise) and a leather belt which held their guns, they looked as local as any of the other wild animals in this place. The musicians stopped for a minute, but once no one else tried to kill them, they continued.

The bar was modern, sleek and very steampunkish. Lovely ladies in tight clothing stood near the entrance, eying the men with approving gazes. There were rows of tables and wooden ones farther down all playing one game;

Poker.

And that's what they'd come in to do. There mission was to find information about Snidley by playing card games and beating the locals. There was word of a five man team that was unbeatable; A humanoid with four hands named Fingers, a Lion named Leo, a Meerkat named Tim, a robot named Bolts and a Warthog named Stinks.

The liquor was hard, and the game would probably last all day. And hell, if they managed to play good, they might actually walk away with this with not only information, but some money to boot.

[OOC- Just so you four know, I don't really know that much about Poker and it's going to be more about the CR and stuff with dramatic hands than real games of blackjack, so no worries if you don't either.]

Artificial night fell on the City, and Goliath and Bronx both awoke with their usual roars. The gargoyles bursting out of their stone skin were a familiar sound at sunset, and their roars carried over the darkening City.

Goliath dropped from his turret and glided towards the wall that surrounded the castle, landing before the gate that would open it to the rest of the crew. Elisa must have still been asleep or otherwise occupying herself in the castle, because the gate was closed. Goliath considered the gates, and the high, newly repaired wall that kept most visitors out of the castle. His instincts to keep the castle fortified against entry during his sleep were still strong, but he considered them as objectively as possible while examining the gate.

In times of conflict, this castle COULD still be used as a fortress. But if he was to open it to the crew formally, perhaps it was time to leave them open, and trust to the crew that he sought to protect.

Or perhaps that was still a step that could wait until he had met more of the crew, and trusted them a little better.

[ooc: a few players have expressed an interest in having their characters sneak into the castle to explore while Goliath is asleep during the day. If you have a character who would snoop around an old castle uninvited, feel free to tag in!]

Most of the recently-awakened people had probably heard of the Drunken Dragon tavern within a few days of getting accustomed to the ship. Some had already visited it, and a few had probably even become regulars already.

As usual, the door was open, and Kang and his helpers were there, refilling drinks and being sociable.

The stage was free for anyone that wanted to share a story, sing a song, or play an instrument, and it was more than welcomed, for what's a tavern without some form of entertainment?

[OOC: If your character wants to speak to a tavern person in particular (Kang, Kaylee, Nima or Kali), just make a note of it in your tag. Threads here can pretty much cover any time from the most recent podpop to just after Happy Happy Fun World; backtagging is our friend in T9. :D

Newbies, please make sure to read the tavern link! It's got all the info on the setting, available drinks, etc.]

Medieval World was one of the largest year-round renaissance faires in the multiverse.

Minstrels and bards wandered the streets, vendors sold ridiculously overpriced period clothing, jewelry, weapons, and turkey legs as big as a human's head, and the royal court mingled with the commoners. There were events everywhere: falconers, magicians, belly dancing, hypnotists, weapons competitions including swords, axes, maces, and bows, camel rides, Washing Well Wenches, fake jousting on wooden 'horses' suspended on ropes, and real jousting.

As was typical of these sorts of events, anachronicity was everywhere, as were patrons in all sorts of fantasy costumes.

Join in the fun!

[OOC: Add things if you want, and go for it!

Also, if anyone wants to win a flower for their lady from the Wenches, contact Shae for NPCing. >:3]

Ankh's first concern was gathering information about this place; the hawk candroid was already flying around where it would and he'd follow it to anything useful later. His next concern then, was returning to the pod caverns. It would be easier to do after all the new crew members had settled, and so he had to wait, no matter how pissed off it made him.

Still, now he got the chance to return. The air was still horrible; he still felt like he was going to choke or explode and he still didn't know why he was so bothered by it, he had spent a year in a human body already, damnit! And that just made him angrier which made him more frustrated which just reminded him how frikkin' hot in here it was. Wearing the damn suit sure didn't help. Nevermind, he'd be sick about it later.

Right now, Ankh was perched on the spiral walkway, staring down at the cavern of pods. He seemed to be staring off into space, but he was actually just concentrating very hard; he had set to work who knows how long ago, using his Hawk vision to scan the pods for any sign of a certain handful of individuals.

They had to be here. There's no way he and that stupid cat'd be around and they wouldn't. They were too dumb to get themselves killed just like that. Not like that.

Yet there was no sign of them. Was his Hawk vision failing him? It never had before. Everything was red, but there was....static. He was used to seeing static, but not with Hawk vision, and not like that. And he certainly shouldn't have had Greeed vision right now.

This was ridiculous. His Greeed arm had long since encased the human arm out of mounting frustration, and he was tightening his fist so hard that he probably would've bruised something by now if it wasn't for the arm. He gave a yell; Nothing. Ankh turned away from the pods and violently whipped his arm forward to point and shoot a blaze of fire at the ground. He didn't care if this place was alive, or if he'd get in trouble, he had been searching for hours and come up dry.

And after his minor fit he was just standing there, breathing heavily, glaring at nothing in particular, and remembering how sick this stupid ship made him.

The beautiful thing about the Sensoriums is that you can be anyone you think you are in your addled little head. For Punchy, that tends to be a superhero, a playboy billionaire, and a hardcore gangsta. Today, he is also a beloved rapper with mad flow and about eight hundred shawties surrounding the stage, hollering 'whoo!' every time he so much as exhales.

The room is set up to look like the inside of a swanky club, with two stages facing each other and a bar at the back. The lights are stark, shining on the mics up at the edge of the stage. Hologram audience members mill around between the two barricades, many carrying signs declaring that they want to jump Punchy's bones.

He steps up to the mic and taps it. It's on and loud.

"Testing, testing…"

Wild applause. In the audience, a pretty young blonde screams "he looked at meeeeee!" and faints.

"I don't see any challengers!" Punchy yells at the crowd, to apoplectic cheering. He clears his throat and continues, letting the Sensoriums provide some dope beats.

"I look for opponents but where might they be?
It seems like they be proponents of fighting to flee
They don't wanna admit they're all biting off me
If you think I'm wrong, step to the mic and see."

[OOC: Feel free to jump on in and gawk, battle, mock, dance or do whatever! Multi-person threading is also cool!]

Philip was restless once again as he strode towards the sensoriums. Closing the door but certainly not locking it, he held up a hand as the DiEnd Driver appeared, his weapon of choice lately. Profoundly saddened he was never going to be able to get a hold of the real thing, he locked in the card.

KAMENRIDE

"Henshin!" he pulled the trigger.

DIEND!

Clad in the blue and black armor of DiEnd, he pulled out several cards from his pouch and started arming them into the weapon. KAMENRIDE: G3, OUJA, FOURZE, DOUBLE!

Firing it into the blank space, the copies of the Riders started fighting it out as Philip watched, seemingly impassive under his helmet.

What was going through his head?