The fauxbellion had gone just as planned.

Allenby and everyone else that had 'rebeled' against the Daligig had played their parts well, as had the ones that had put down the rebellion. Command and Council had gained some respect amongst the Daligig, and had been rewarded with more control over Stacy.

The 'rebelers' had been dragged off to the brig under the watchful eye of the Daligig, but had not stayed for long; Aibghalien's illusions had allowed them to leave with the Daligig being none the wiser. Unfortunately, they were paying a little more attention to the prisoners than had been expected.

The portal system (unknown to the Daligig) that Celena had set up allowed for easy access in and out of the Precinct. The prisoners were allowed out in shifts, under the supervision of other crewmembers, to do work repairing buildings in the City.

Also unknown to the Daligig, the repairs were largely a lie as well.

There was still a real rebellion to be had, and that would require weapons spread out in locations all over the City. It would also require less interference from Stacy. It was easy to make spaces to store said weaponry and to install jamming fields that Engineering had been working on under the guise of repairs.

The building that one small group was working on was unlike anything on Earth, and made completely of a very durable grey stone. The Daligig would pop in on occasion to check on the prisoners, but they never paid much attention to what was actually being done, content to leave if it looked enough like the prisoners were doing as they were told. It was clear the Daligig didn't think highly of their intelligence.

Grif had been tasked with supervising the group of five. The Daligig had made a check only five minutes before, and weren't due for another few hours.

It was the perfect time to investigate the slime that was on one of the walls, about knee-high. For those that were observant, the Ghyyl were rather slimy in appearance, and it was about the perfect height for a Ghyyl's arms.

With the Council having laid down the groundwork with the Daligig to gain their trust in the uprising, the crew prepared to put on a show, and the Daligig at their wit's end and impatient with the crew of the Transmigation 9, it was time to act.

The plans were clear. Allenby would be leading some of the crew in what looked like a hotheaded attempt the attack the Daligig and Kessek and oust them off the ship. Those that wanted to stay out of the fighting and take a neutral position of some kind were to make sure they stayed safe or acted their parts as the horrified crew-members that wanted everyone to make peace. And of course, anyone else was going to play a roll in pretending to side with the Council and the Daligig to put their fellow crew members down (without hurting them) making it look like it wasn't a clear-cut issue, so the Council could get the command codes necessary to start the crew's true takeover of the ship.

More observant members of the crew had noticed where the Daligig, Ghyll, and Kessek had been entering and leaving the restricted areas of the ship. The attack was to start at one of those entrances, as the fake rebels tried to storm in and take on the Daligig forces. After that, as the Kessek were drawn into the ship itself to put down the rebellion, it was going to be a free-for-all, a faux civil war of sorts, as flashy and convincing as they could make it without anyone actually dying.

Lights! Cameras! Action, people! It was time to put on a show and hope it was convincing enough for the Daligig to give the crew what they needed to truly be free.

[ooc: Go Go Go!]

Day three of the tournament. With less than half of the entrants remaining, and many of them having grown substantially in power with their conquests, the fighting was building to a fevered pitch destined to end in a crescendo of glory. But this far out, it's still anybody's game...


[Results are due by the end of Thursday. Contact me if you need to know your power gains for the last round.]

The first day had cut the participants by half, though to the meatship's undoubtedly great relief, most of that half had not been culled from their own ranks. Technology and magic together had been combined to heal the wounds of those who had suffered in their first rounds, and those who wished to make the attempt could play with their new powers or toys, to see how much they could adapt to their uses before the next day.

The cameras never stopped following them, never stopped rolling. (Except for the bathroom, but otherwise, don't strut around your bedroom naked.)

The next day dawned bright and clear, bright and clear being the prevailing, enforced weather pattern of the castle's particular biome chunk.

No sooner did the Obs Deck descend to Arena Planet LXIII, and the crew allowed to disembark, than they were met by a veritable cloud swarm of cameras. Sleek, elegant things that might have been living, might have been machines, maybe were even magical... but were definitely nuisances as the swooped around to capture video of the crew at all conceivable angles, close up and far away. Their every move from this point on would be on camera.

In front of a small crowd of retainers stood what appeared to be a great circular orb whose only distinguishing features were a nose, and what appeared to be the most overblown mustache ever, which actually appeared to be supporting that two-foot-diameter orb at shoulder height to a tall man. Then the orb took a couple of steps forward,revealing that no, those were actually just really, really hairy legs. A seam cracked open on the creature, and in a voice loud enough to echo across the broad open plains without any need for amplification, it bellowed, "AND NOW! STRAIGHT FROM THE TRANSMIGRATION NINE VESSEL! OUR NEWEST COMPETITORS! FRESH TO THE STAGE OF BATTLE, BUT NO STRANGERS TO WAR--"

It went on like this for some time.

Under cover of this introduction, a small man that to all appearances seemed to be the love child of Richard Nixon and a particularly aggressive Furby stepped forward, and in a bored businesslike tone recited, "Welcome to the tournament. There will be one battle per day. The arena in which you battle will be determined by random draw. Our medical crew will perform all healing necessary and ensure no deaths so feel free to not hold back. Please refrain from accepting any bribes or favors from on-planet spectators--"

"--ARE YOU READY?!" the orb bellowed even louder than before, completely swamping the smaller man's recitation. "THEN STEP THIS WAY!"

And so saying, the orb and its procession began a clearly well-choreographed procession towards a large, medieval-looking fortress that hung dramatically just on the edge of clear vision. (Conveniently, this procession passed several large advertisements.)

||Attention. Attention. Volunteers are requested for a mission. This mission will require active combat in a controlled environment against other sentient beings as well as fellow crew members. No fatalities are expected. Successful participation may be rewarded with increased personal power. Successful completion will result in increased resources for crew usage. Volunteers report to the Observation Deck.||

( For those that choose to answer... )

The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their numbers.

Several people are set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicomms and comm rings. They are also told they must read information about their current situation and a survival guide with their new omnicomm. New crewmates might see a tall dragonish guy with wings (but don't call him that), a large afro attached to a smaller girl, and talking ponies 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. But thankfully this time, there's a system that was set up to aid the new crew members with a few more experienced ones.

[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. Big brother/sister, there will be a thread for you as well!]

WHUMPF.

In one of the lost rooms, a costumed teenager is being flown across a grassy hill like a particularly colorful projectile. He lands hard on the ground, tumbling over and over into the mud, and then, with a grunt, gets back up.

"Goddamn tree's putting the ig on me." Punchy wipes dirt off his face and spits a piece of grass (and possibly a tooth) out. "Let's see how you like getting stomped topwise by a real OG."

The Whomping Willow spreads its two largest branches wide, as if to say 'come at me, bro'. Punchy rushes headfirst at it, trying to think of some witty or scathing put-down to throw at this uppity piece of lumber, and instead only coming up with 'take that!' - and getting tossed, once again across the room and into the earth.

If anyone walks in on him lying facedown in the mud, he's totally just playing dead and going to get the Willow off-guard. Really.

Less than an hour after the ship leaves Agrestic's orbit, an announcement is broadcast throughout Stacy.

|| Attention, crew. Your crewmates, Howard Bassem and Charles Merriman, have been apprehended attempting to desert. They will now be given Punishment. According to established guidelines, you are all requested to report to the Observation to witness the Punishment. Attendance is not mandatory, but highly suggested. This will serve as a reminder of the consequences of treason and desertion. ||

On the observation deck, Archon Yavek, Archite Rekkti, two other Daligig and a handful of Kessek soldiers stand outside a spherical force field. Inside the bubble, Orc and Howard are suspended by tentacles looping around their wrists. Orc's ceased thrashing around and struggling against his restraints; rust-colored fissures have developed around his shoulders and forearms from the strain, but now he simply hangs there, looking defeated. Howard's nose is bleeding, and every time a drop falls to the bottom of the forcefield there's a small sizzle. He's weeping and begging the Daligig with every plea possible, but they act as if they aren't listening. Instead, they wait for an audience.

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! )

On the surface of his emotions, Terry was feeling pretty good, all things considered. He was now on the security team. His best friend was on the ship now. The former Robins had agreed to be a part of an actual team with him. Underneath that surface feeling somewhat content, though, there was something worse. He'd swore to himself, the second time he'd woken from the pods, that he'd get involved with everything going on on the ship. That he'd make the Ohm pay for everything they'd ever done. But now, he was feeling listless. He'd make steps, but he didn't know where to go from there.

He wandered around the ship like usual, but now that he'd realized this, he was in a slight daze. He was pissed off at himself, and didn't really know what to do. There were times in his life when he'd really needed guidance - his stint in Juvie, his father's death - and this was another one of them.

Hopefully he could find this guidance from someone on the ship.

Chancy as it was to move between levels, it was still quite often a necessity. Especially when there was more to try and get out of Medical and the nearby Science Department, before the cogs and wheels hands of SHODAN ran amuck over everything.

It didn't make for easy transitions, on the otherhand. Those traveling upward found themselves abruptly diverted to the second level, at the hub of the pod caverns. This unintentional side-effect of something the wired fiends were doing made it both necessary to stop off and stay out of a larger group's way, as well as finding immediate progress elsewhere inconvenient. Getting down to the MedBay again would be easiest, and with a safezone set up in Contagion it wasn't a bad bet.

The problem primarily being they still needed some contact and transfer of supplies between safepoints, if that really could have been left in more organized hands. Things the ship needed to work on? Possibly a sense of coherency, but Sakura was admittedly biased. It's what she expected from folks at home, and what she'd been made to act on and with during the war. Her war. Her world's war. Might as well apply it to space.

Whatever poor sods had also gotten the shaft and ended up in the hub to the pod caverns had similar options to what Sakura was facing. "They were headed this way. We need to move." Finding someplace to either be out of the way and line of attention, or to use as a stronghold if they needed to, would be important. If the metal and plastic minions were following them into the caverns, they'd hopefully leave soon afterward. If not...

If not, they had even more of the many problems SHODAN had dropped in their deliciously frail buggy hands.

[ ooc: Any and all who wanted to be around before the Pods were known to be under attack/to witness the Pods coming under attack, get in here! Trudy's rallying for a drive of robots out here -- SHODAN will be killing pods in this log. ]

Megan didn't often spend a great deal of time in the sensoriums. Escapism was rarely appealing to her - at least not as much as problem solving was - but every once in a while homesickness would drive her to some illusory indulgence.

Today she lay on her back on the ground, splayed out on top of a large soft blanket like a ginger starfish, red hair a loose cloud around her head. The ground she had made her bed on was barren for the most part, an empty plain of rich red earth that stretched for miles around her into the darkness. Above her hung the bright tapestry of stars that provided her only light, the stars she remembered seeing laying in the front yard of her childhood home, peering up into Mars' midnight sky.

Stargazing had always been calming to her. It stood to reason that even here on Stacy the ritual would still work, just as it had still worked on Earth back at home.

Waking up covered in slime and naked had been strange enough. One minute she'd been sleeping peacefully in the humid, mildly sticky jungle, the next she'd been waking up in the humid, EXTREMELY sticky room with the stacks and stacks of pods bulging from the walls, surrounded by humans, more humans than she'd seen in months. More naked humans than she'd seen in her life. And then Jane had found herself in a maze.

And another maze. And another one. With . . . something, that was most certainly a machine, but so much more advanced than any machine she'd ever seen - and much more vindictive, too. Had GlaDOS known somehow that of the few things she'd missed about England, cake had been high on the list?

Jane, deposited on the Observatory floor, stood from her ungraceful landing still livid with frustration from her weeks of 'testing.' Whatever that had been for.

"Oh! You wretched - you vile machine, if there were cake, why I'd jam every one of your gears with it!"

Oh! It appeared she was no longer in the strange, awfully austere mazes anymore. Jane looked around, considering that her surroundings had suddenly become much more like the strange room she'd been in before being captured by that terrible thing that had promised cake and not (for it's own good, no doubt!) delivered. Perhaps some of the people she'd seen around when she first woke up in a place not the jungle were available to answer some of her questions.

"Excuse me! Is - is anyone here? Hello? I don't suppose there is cake after all?"

The Sensoriums are decorated like the most well-tended and enthusiastically holiday-oriented suburb Southern California could have created. Jack-O-Lanterns grin out from driveways and porches; smoke machines belch out onto the sidewalk; orange-tinted Christmas lights twinkle from the rooftops. A loop of Halloween-themed music, from the Monster Mash to Thriller, plays over the scene.

Eva knows there aren't many children on Stacy, but that doesn't mean that the ones here shouldn't have the occasional holiday. Just because they lack a calendar doesn't mean they lack a festive spirit. Besides, almost all kids like candy and she was able to purchase plenty at the theme park and in Geartopia.

Each house has some hologram families giving out candies and chocolates, as well as small toys and little origami animals. Every hologram is dressed up in a ridiculous costume of some sort.

She flits from house to house, imagining up little details to add, dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit she finds unbearably humorous. After sending out a message on the channels, she waits for guests to arrive.

[OOC: Everybody, go forth and mingle, have fun with the setting, TP some houses, whatever! Please threadjack, start your own threads, and go wild. The Halloweentown mini-plot will be in this post later tonight with those players, but the rest of the post is open for everyone.]

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!]

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. They are also told they must read information about their current situation and a survival guide with their new omnicom. New crew-mates might see a tall dragonish guy with wings (but don't call him that) and purple 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.]

Let it never be said that Stacy was not benevolent toward her crew. Truth was, she loved them, to the point of risking her own life. And thus, she'd been busy for quite some time... silently she had worked, trying to get into her own archives and cross-checking references. She was going to help boost morale and give them a gift - show them people they cared about, wake them up for a single day as proof that, yes, they were there, close by. She was going to give them a day to awaken, to see their loved ones again and to go back, knowing that their time would come one day or another...

It sounded so beautiful and poetic on theory. In reality, it could become a true disaster. Spent of most of the energies doing this task, in complete secrecy to keep it as a surprise, Stacy's never-ending work was only stopped by its own Warden program, which pulled the plug on the ship's search to find everyone at least someone they cared about. That, unfortunately, left her not only spent of energy which was dangerous in itself - but it also meant that some of the crew would be deprived of seeing their close ones, no doubt leaving some of them bitter.

The road to hell has always been paved by good intentions.

Stacy's voice was decidedly more cheerful than normal as she spoke to the entire ship.

|| Transmigration Nine crew, please report to the Observation Deck. I have a gift for you. ||

She repeated the request, and waited.

Once most of the crew had made their way there, she continued.

||I have been working on a...|| she couldn't quite find the proper word and settled on the next one, || present for you. While many of your records are locked to even me, I have worked to find the pods which contain people close to you. I...apologize if some of you may end up with no one, it is not my fault I...|| suddenly Stacy's voice seemed a little less cheerful, ||The Warden stopped me before I could finish everything completely. Please do not feel like I targeted you specifically, I really did my best to get as many of your friends and companions awake as possible for today.||

Now was the hardest part to explain.

||And that is, unfortunately, all that can be given to you. Because their avia are not yet ready to be properly awakened, they'll be here for a single day. Please make the most of it, so you can feel better and continue our mission with renewed vigor . I hope that meeting those that care about you will give you a boost of energy that you all need.|| Spoken like a mother who put her children before herself. ||But if you can...look at it this way, it means that they are here, and one day I will proudly awaken them properly when they are ready.||

Her voice was becoming strange as she went on. Not static-like, but raspy, like someone who was running out of breath.

||And I am afraid that I must go offline for a few hours due to the strain this is putting on...me...|| It sounded really painful for her to speak, completely spent and only going because she wanted to at least give them a proper last word. ||I...hope...you...will...be...happy...a...lit--||

For the first time in a long while, Stacy was completely silent.

[OOC: GO FOR IT.]

Once everyone had had time to read her announcement, Starfire started preparing for the day. There were signs to hang, streamers to wave, and plenty of people to greet with her usual affection. Language would not be a barrier, so the signs simply consisted of drawings of two happy blobs coming together and embracing each other. Arrows below the pictures pointed any visitors to the right place in the city's park, where Starfire's cheerful calls could be heard. She floated above the crowd, that wide smile ever-present on her face.

"I welcome you all to our offering of friendship! Please join us!" She was not going to give up easily, no. "You do not need to embrace us or each other to participate today. Your kind words of support and open ears are more than enough, but I would like you to open your arms if you are able. Offer your affection to your friends and extend your kindness to new ones!"

That said, she pointed to the arrangement of signs attached to several big trees. One had a rather deformed picture of a smiling Starfire in front of it, and others were left blank for volunteers to draw their own pictures. Those wishing to receive hugs or friendship would walk through the appropriate tree to stand behind.

It was a simple setup, but one that she hoped would be effective. Love for everyone!

((Subthreads are up! Similarly-inclined volunteers can take their own hug tree, and everyone is welcome to visit any of the trees. Tags from Starfire will be sporadic while I am at school, so you may wish to thread with others at first.))

It started with a faint tremor.

In the depths of the Ben 10,000 headquarters, there was a faint crack as a containment field, long since degraded over the course of many years finally gave way, and reality split in two. From it, three hulking forms spilled from it, and there was a faint rumble of satisfaction from the first one.

"Free at last," rumbled the first, a gargantuan behemoth in a powerful looking exosuit.

"Yes," remarked the second, a massive albino gorilla with what appeared to be a tiny head on the shoulders. "We made it through the barrier separating us from the rest of reality."

The third grunted, folding his powerful looking arms as he sneered down at his companions. "So then, we all know what to do."

"Of course," chuckled the first, clenching his fist. "From here, our paths cross no longer. It's them or us."

The others nodded and quietly they moved as the first sneered, accessing a scanner on his wrist. Scanning the area, he smirked to himself. "Jackpot."

And quickly, he began moving towards the Armory, eager to get his hands on whatever was laying around.