The location? Shea Stadium, circa late 90's. Two innings in, Mets down by two and up to bat. The occupant? Well, it was mostly filled with a semi-decent crown of fake people, but the only member of the crew currently watching the game was the younger Peter Parker.

The current score didn't really concern Peter. Plenty of time left in game to get back, and the game itself was kind of secondary. He was mostly there to reconnect with himself after the mess that was Fairplay, and what better way than the place where he learned one of the other key lessons that made him who he was.

Still, he didn't mind if anyone else decided to watch the game.

Things had pretty much gone back to normal with Kang, though he still refused to talk at length about what had happened during the recent mission, and clammed up completely about what had happened with him specifically. He hadn't seen or heard from Ronon since he'd gotten back, which was worrisome, so he'd canceled the Warfare Training for a bit; that left him with more free time than he was used to having, and no idea what to do to fill that time with.

Times like this, he almost, almost, missed the paperwork and headaches of running Teyr, because that had at least kept him occupied.

So, the bozak wandered around the City and Hydroponics, and hung out in the tavern to give Kaylee some extra help, even when it wasn't his time to be in there. He spent a little bit of time in the Sensoriums, calling up locations and old foes from home to keep his battle skills sharp. He finally visited the Art Hall, with its creepy statues, and watched a few movies in the Media Library.

[OOC: Let me know where you run into him, plz. :) ]

Ba'al had made something of a habit of wandering the city, during the days. Due to its sheer size, it was less likely that he would run into anyone when he didn't want to, but it was still easy enough to come into contact with people when it suited him. A perfect location for someone who was laying low, thanks to a certain other member of his species being a bit too showy (he was still disappointed, somewhat, in how that had ended...). If nothing else, the city had much to offer-- or at least more so than most of the rest of the ship.

And so, he found himself strolling through the city once more, with no particular aim, save to make himself busy, and perhaps discover something new. Perhaps he could find something useful this time.

Leon was, somehow, 900 kajillion light-years away from everything and everyone he ever knew. But what was he doing right now?

Walking through a ruined city that was crawling with raging infected in an attempt to locate and rescue any survivors. Again. Not that this work wasn't his stock and trade, but one would think that fate would have something else in store for him. But what is, is. At least he wasn't completely on his own, this time, having gathered a small group to go in and help.

With the virus having leaked out here initially, there was no telling where the hot zone was, so as a precaution, he (and anyone else who went) was wearing a modified combat-ready environment-suit. It was fairly light weight, but had some added padding in addition to body armor, and had ts own re-breather to supply air. In addition, he had a few weapons with him, as well as several clips of 'specialty' ammo, since he really had to be ready for anyone to be infected.

He moved through cautiously, looking for anyone who needed help.

((OOC: Open thread for anyone, infected or not, stuck in the city, and for anyone helping with the evac. Interacting with Leon isn't required, and you guys can free thread amongst yourselves if you want.))

The disease spread through the City, and through the City, to the crew. Those who came in contact with the invisible killer would slowly begin to exhibit many of the symptoms of a common flu: nausea, chills, and fever.

But they would not feel lethargic. No, quite the opposite. Their energy and their activity would only increase. And now, so would their aggression and pent-up rage...

...and it would increase very, very quickly. So quickly, that you might almost lose your mind.

 It was the night of the ball, and Nanashi was in high spirits. She had recreated her castle in it's entirety, though it was devoid of residents. Instead there were several servants, half of them vampires and the other half human. Some of them had the sole purpose of escorting the arriving guests into a sort of small cocktail room. The walls were lined with tables with various dishes- and room for the guests to think up more if they so desired- and plenty of drinks both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. Once some people arrived, the double doors were opened to reveal the Grand Hall.

The hall itself was spectacular, rising several stories high with silk tapestries depicting dragons and legendary battles decorating the walls. Every so often along the wall one could find a sculpture, many of them busts of apparently famous people from long ago, others showed more dragons, while some were full-sized and somewhat resembled the great statues of Greece.  Paintings both in oils and in inks could also be found where there were no tapestries. There were large oak tables with intricately carved legs and borders so it almost seemed as if the carved leaves had grown naturally. The tables were, like the ones earlier, covered in finger foods and drinks, while smaller tables were off to the side with more servants standing at wait where one could sit and be served a meal if they so wished. The room was softly lit by a great multitude of blue-flamed candles lining the walls and hanging from crystal and stone chandeliers above. A full orchestra played behind a partition, though clearly it was just a formality, as they somehow played some of the music she heard while wandering Zokez II as well. Another servant sat by the partition and was taking song requests. Above them was a balcony with a staircase that sloped down in such a way that the side closer to the hall curved away from the wall.

Normally, Nanashi would enter from the balcony, but she instead slipped in among the guests, wearing  a white dress with the hem just brushing the ground and a pair of angel wings that looked a lot more realistic with the help of the sensoriums than they would look in her world. She also wore a silver mask to match her wings and dress.

Above even the balcony there was a giant clock that quietly ticked away the minutes. A chime would sound when the hands struck midnight, but hopefully no one would be losing a glass slipper tonight.

Shiva spoke through the comms (not the omnicomms) directly into the minds of the crew.

«I am Shiva. I am the destroyer of all that you know and the creator of a grand new empire. For months you thought of me as my host, Charles Kawalsky, but now you shall see me in all my glory. I have positioned bombs throughout this vessel, including the pod caverns. I need but press the trigger and they will explode. I also have one hostage of my own, Sheryl. You will not be able to stop me. I am fully equipped with a power dampener, and a forcefield. I am untouchable. You have one hour to surrender yourselves to me and begin your new lives as my slaves.»

His eyes flashed gold and he held his hostage firmly. He did not wish to wait, but if he tired of this he would amend his demands. For now he stayed in one of the areas in the City hidden from Stacy’s view, in the middle of a pile of rubble, with not a landmark in sight.

Still, he knew they would come.

After weeks, months of waiting, the plan had finally come into fruition. Schmuz was free, a suitable host having been found. The Yeerk's expertise was needed to add the finishing touches to technology vital to their plans. He would aide them, or he would die. Shiva made that perfectly clear.

When he spoke his voice was inhumanly low. "The bombs have been set. Once Schmuz finishes the power dampeners and shields we can act, and restore these cattle to their proper place, serving us."

Ace hadn't really said much at the little welcome meeting. It was great and all, getting their excited out and repeating what they'd found out. More like been 'told'. He wasn't sure if any of it was true.

He still didn't consider himself part of this crew, not really. His crew was worlds away, and possibly gone. But he was still Whitebeard's man.

Not...whoever was captain on this ship.

And who could call a living thing a proper ship anyway? He could see stars out the window. Not dimmed by the sky, the actual stars. And the food couldn't even be called food. this place was really starting to freak him out, he'd like to go home now, and forget about this supposed hero gig. Though, preferably not back to the location he'd just left. Back to Whitebeard's fleet, maybe? He'd love that.

Maybe he should go find and bug his little Lord of Chaos, at least he'd be entertained...

His fingers trapped against his side as he studied the garden area, trying to decide if any of the fruit or animals were toxic.

And how much he cared, after a week of tasteless slop.

Ba'al could not say he was particularly surprised about having lost the election. He had not been playing his role well enough, not nearly. He had mingled somewhat, yes, and he had put up the face of a pleasant human as thoroughly as possible. But it needed more than that. He should have branched out more, made more connections. The cause of his loss was clear.

That did not make him any less angry about it, however.

He had missed his chance, surrounded by these imbeciles. Perhaps if he had had surer footing here-- perhaps then they would have been able to see who was deserving of the power they were granting to idiots. He doubted most of them would make more than sentimental fools (the only benefit to which was that perhaps he could still manipulate them, to an extent).

Now, he would have to exercise power more indirectly. Subtlety. Subterfuge.

With that, Ba'al was wandering - seemingly aimlessly - throughout the ship. He was not looking for anyone, but the more people he ran into the better.

((ooc: open to anyone, anywhere! Let me know if you want a thread in a particular place or anything?))

Any other day, maybe, the Doctor might be wandering the ship, looking for something interesting to pull apart or poke his nose into. He still hasn't had a chance to inspect the brain of the ship, after all, and there's that great big city he'd like to explore as well...

But right now, he'd rather not. He's tired and annoyed, and any place he could wander, it wouldn't be far enough. So instead, the Doctor has sprawled on his back, halfway upside down, on one of the couches on the Obs Deck. It seemed as good a place as any to sit still for a while - maybe not the place to go if he wanted to be alone, but he'll take company over quiet just now.

He doesn't actually seem to be paying attention to anyone who might be in the room, though. Instead, he's playing with an unidentifiable bit of patched-together technology - it's got buttons and flashy lights and a little dish and there is absolutely no outward indication of what it actually does. It's... entirely possible it's not meant to do anything, at least at the moment; he just wanted something to do with his hands, though someone to talk to (or talk at) would undoubtedly be a better distraction.

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.]

Hydroponics was peaceful. There weren't that many people in it, and most people were willing to ignore you if you curled up in a corner with a book- well, data pad, and he almost missed the solid weight of paper and ink in his hands - and kept your head down.

And right now, Iniss wanted nothing more than to stay out of the way and avoid all of the humans and assorted alien lifeforms that had decided they were going to hunt him down for Jake.

His host was quiet, on the edge of dozing. Bored by his reading choice and content, for once. He'd sent Jake a message, and he knew Jake had to have received it.

It was a small thing, something very few other people would think much of. Telling your younger sibling you love them? Most teenagers would die first. But Tom hadn't been able to say so much as 'Hi' to his little brother in three years. It felt...nice. Comfortable. He felt almost happy. As close to happy as he'd gotten in years, even with the near miss of freedom.

And so he dozed and Iniss read and they ignored each other completely.

It could almost be said to be peaceful, if living with an alien slug in your head could ever be said to be peaceful.

He had taken it to hydroponics before he decided everything would work out. Freed from the biological confines of the ship with a large layer of dirt and like hell he was going to attempt transmutation there, Ed was gathering a pile of familiar and alien pieces of wood, dirt, rocks and avoiding the clusters of alien animals. One of them seemed to like him and had given him a lick, and it reminded him of Den whenever they had gotten to Amestris.

A lingering thought circled through Ed's mind. If proper alchemy drew power from the movement of energy in the earths crust, then what was he powering on? Silently he hoped nothing crazy had happened to him while in pod stasis. And even moreso he hoped Father wasn't in the area, since he seemed to be able to power alchemy and turn it off at the same time.

But with Greed in the vicinity, nothing could be for certain.

"Alright, here we go."

Clapping his hands, he was gratified that the familiar tingle of energy moved through his limbs as he placed them atop the small pile of wood and stone. Light flared and the molecules reshaped itself. Several animals backed away instinctively, and when it was done, Ed stood in front of a bench carved out of stone and wood.

"Still feels interesting after all this time," murmured Ed as he clapped his hands again.

A stone carving. A fresco. A towering wall. A swingset.

Ed clapped again and in a flash of light, a replica of Alphonse stood there like a statue.

For a long moment, Ed bit the inside of his lip, thinking of his brother. And then clapped again, returning it to a bench before flopping down onto it.

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.]

Today was different. Today wasn't about exploring the ship, keeping in shape, or trying to learn more about the Ohm. No, today was about indulging in one of her favorite pastimes - racing through the canyons outside Crevasse City on her classic JR-4 swoop. The fate of Alderaan and the upcoming battle against the Ohm had been weighing heavily on Reyna of late, and she felt in dire need of a distraction.

So it was that she found herself in one of the Sensoriums using her memories of home to conjure up the appropriate terrain, her swoop, and an attractive racing outfit to temporarily replace her plantsuit. Once everything was ready Reyna pulled on her helmet and mounted the swoop. She revved the engine a few times to get a feel for the controls, grinning as it all came flooding back to her, then sealed the helmet's visor and took off at breakneck speed for the nearest canyon.

Her heart pounding with excitement and adrenaline surging in her veins, Reyna weaved her way in and out of each gorge and ravine, climbing and diving and twisting and turning with reckless abandon. The knowledge that she was in no actual danger of getting hurt was lost in the thrill of the ride, and the feeling of flirting with disaster only heightened Reyna's enjoyment of it. She came bursting out of one particularly deep canyon at the last second, whooping with joy at the narrowly averted crash.

She ended her run with a quick dash across a nearby lake before circling back to her starting point at a leisurely pace. Leaving the swoop idling beneath her, Reyna took off her helmet and tucked it under her arm, laughing and smiling as she shook her short brown hair away from her face.

[OOC: All are welcome! Feel free to join Reyna for a wild ride on her swoop, race against her, just hang out and chat, etc. Basically whatever sounds like fun that you can convince Reyna to participate in.]

Jeka had been keeping herself busy; but even the most determined of people are shooed off-duty eventually, and Jeka knows better than to overwork herself unnecessarily. Everything seemed all right now, but everyone on board knew how quickly that could change.

She wasn't tired at the moment however, nor was she hungry. Instead, she was bending her energy toward a more personal project: attempting to locate any Orandian artifacts that Stacy had rescued from the collapsing timeline.

She wasn't having much luck.

Sighing in frustration, she drummed her fingers against the dais of one of the statues. It took her a moment to realize that the inky black material had shifted from a statue of the Legion in mid-flight to one of the Orandian royal family -- a time before her mother had died, and long before her body had been warped into this shape.

"What the--?!"



[[OOC: The shifting statue is currently one of four snakes, posed like a family portrait. None of them look even remotely like Jeka.]]

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.]

[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | Instructions: Post your character with one post establishing them as being podpopped. Tag each other in groups of 2's, 3's, and 4's, to get some interaction to start with. If a thread doesn't already have 2 or 3 people tagged in, tag it with your character's podpop popping near the other people, rather than making a new subthread. If you would like to play out them talking to the AI, please send an email to the mods making the request--we do this only by request. Then move onto the big Newbie Meeting. Once your character has gotten the rundown from the old crew, you may start posting entrance posts and freely tagging.]


||Pod Release Protocols Initating|| Stacy's familiar voice sounds out to all the podmates through the ship.

In the Pod Caverns, there are the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There is condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in the pods, as the people inside slide out onto the floors, covered in slime.

--

( There was nothing... )