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.

There are ghosts on the ship, apparitions of those long dead and those still alive. They aren't real and yet, may as well be for how they can hurt the crew and affect the physical environs of the ship. In this case, these malingering spirits aren't haunting particular places--they're haunting specific people.

What happens on Obs Deck is a clear indication of that.

One moment, she's talking with someone else casually.

The next moment, something invisible scratches her arm, right through the plantsuit.

Carol really didn't know what she was doing as she made the post to the com. Sure she had been sick and tired of all of them dancing around each other, grouping off, being just people rather than heroes from the same world. She'd noticed the other heroes forming a team, they got on so well it made her sick to think about her own world.

"God Steve, you'd be pulling your own hair out if you saw us all like this." She knew talking to the dead in the Sensoriums wasn't a good idea, but she couldn't help it. As she moved into the room, she looked around herself. Her first thought was to form the Avengers memorial garden, but the mutants on board wouldn't like that. She'd been at Xavier's plenty of times, but the Avengers weren't connected to that place.

"Central Park please. Add in the memorial garden from both the Avengers mansion and Xavier's." She didn't know if it'd work to help connect them all or not, but maybe it would. As she stared at the statues she moved to an empty section and stood, her Ms. Marvel costume appearing on her body as she stood at attention.

She wasn't Captain America, or even Captain Marvel. But she'd led the Avengers before, and damn it she'd do it again.

After her endeavor with Sheeana, Katara had felt much calmer than she had since arriving here. She could breathe freely knowing that she would do whatever she needed to in getting Aang back, but also making sure that she didn't think about that too often. It had all seemed to make so much sense when she realized that she was the one that had helped to feet The Nightmare King King. Now she felt more able to push those feelings back, to channel them away for its safety, she felt more secure now.

It left room for many other questions, and Katara was fine with that. She knew she was still learning, and she'd have a long way to go before she'd have true inner peace...and the person she wanted to be with the most. Until then, she would have to be content with dwelling on her mistakes and arranging her thinking around the Nightmare King.

Today, she was in the city, specifically in the park. It was a peaceful day, and she could feel a gentle breeze wash over her. She sighed contently

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.]

Peter furtively makes another lap of the bistro, a picture of jitters and apprehension as he checks every last inch of the place. He wants to make sure Stacy has reconstructed it exactly how he remembers it, though since said reconstruction is brick-for-brick captured from his brain patterns it's unlikely that he'll ever notice any discontinuity.

It may not look like much to the outside observer, but this was one of the places on ground level that he felt most alive. A notorious haunt for the newspaper men and women of the Daily Bugle, this was generally the first stop made by a budding photographer in search of the goon who was supposed to be providing the words to go with his pictures. It would only take a handful of people to make it looked cramped, and it certainly hadn't kept with the times. Most of the worn wooden tables come equipped with a typewriter, so that the journalist of yesteryear could muster up that overdue article while gorging on the caffeinated drinks and robust meat dishes that they would need to get through a hard day's press packing.

It was a bizarre experience, the place empty and noiseless. It was usually a clamour of expletives and 'Great Ceasar's Ghost!'s, the waiting staff vainly attempting to cut through the swathe of patrons on the shop floor.

Several times Peter reshuffles the way that his particular table is laid out, the only one with any utensils appropriate for eating with. If he were honest it was a lousy place to conduct what he intended, but it's where he feels comfortable and right now, doing what he can to steady his nerves and not come across like a total idiot is paramount.

Deep breaths, steady hands. Keep it together.

He speaks into his comm ring, <<Carol, you have a couple hours? I could use a hand in the Sensoriums.>>

The new people will find themselves ushered out of Obs Deck, so it can be shot down to the planet again, to pick the crew up. Eventually, the crew members on the mission are brought back up, and the doors open to let the two groups meet.

The newbies are likely not expecting their new crew-mates to come back bearing presents--which some of them are.

[ooc: This time anyone can post in. REMEMBER TO TAG OTHER PEOPLE, THO. This is set after the mission so mission peoples can meet the newbies. Latecomer newbies, if you want, you can just tag your guys into this one to make things easier.]

Something...odd is happening on the ship. Plant-like protrusions are occasionally sprouting in places throughout the ship.

They look like mistletoe, but this is purely coincidental. It's not like it's the holidays on the ship, right? It might be for some people, back home (if they still had a home), but others were grabbed from different times. No, it's just coincidence that these little devices look vaguely like mistletoe, and coincidence what they're being used for.

For you see, when this "mistletoe" is overhead, a crew member will be trapped in an invisible forcefield, and won't be able to escape until someone has kissed them or otherwise showed them some equivalent of affection. (Cheek kisses and sloppy puppy kisses from the canine crew members count). The "mistletoe" spring itself is shielded itself and can't be destroyed, the only way out is a kiss.

Why is this all happening? GLaDoS is performing whacky behavioral experiments, that's why. Each time, it happens, she intones messages like the following.

"Please express affection for your fellow crewmate to free them."

"This is of the utmost importance, and part of ongoing Crew Coherency and Cooperation Studies."

"Please do not attempt to leave the vicinity until you have participated."

"Participation is required. Why wouldn't you want to participate?"

"The Transmigration9 AI Complex thanks you for your participation in important research. Unless you don't want to participate, but not participating would make me disappointed. I suppose you just want to disappoint me."

And of course, sometimes she even outright lies.

"There will be cake."

As promised, Zuko has set up one of the Sensoriums as a perfect replication of the city of Ba Sing Se. Inside the open door is a wide, well-swept street, the sun low in the sky, the shadows long in the twilight just before sunset. The scent of plum blossoms is on the air. A cool spring breeze wafts the scent through the quiet, unpeopled streets.

Because there are no people in the simulation, it is easy to see where the tea social is taking place. Up a twin set of steps and across from a fountain is an attractive building of medium size. The light of candles glitters within.

Inside the tea shop, tables and chairs are already set up, the windows open to take advantage of the soft breeze, and warm light illuminates the room from green paper lamps. Elegant tapestries adorn the walls and floor. Green and gold seem to be the colors of choice.

Zuko is inside, putting the finishing touches on a sign, which he is painstakingly copying from his omnicom. His translation program has given him the means to write "Tea Night: Welcome, All Guests" in as many languages as the device tells him the crew reads. He writes the welcome with ink and a brush, brought from the Possessions locker, for the purpose of putting on the open Sensorium door. When it is completed, he hangs it, inspecting it for a moment before returning to the tea house that was his uncle's joy.

He breathes out, picking up the broom to sweep the shop, an automatic gesture born of force of habit. He waits quietly for guests to arrive, wondering if this will work after all. It would have worked for his uncle. Iroh might have even been proud of him for taking the initiative to do this on his own, and Zuko sweeps very hard, to drown out all thoughts that he might never get the chance to see if this is so.

In the cool Ba Sing Se evening, he waits for guests to arrive. When they do -

"Hello, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon. It is my honor to serve you this evening."

Li the Tea Boy is an easier persona to fall into than he'd like, it would seem.

((ooc: Okay guys, it's a party, so do what you do at parties - mingle, talk, start some shenanigans, get the ball rolling! Zuko will be trying his best to get to everyone, but he is a busy boy, so you should talk to each other as well. A good way to start is to demand tea!)

There was no other way of putting it. Mal Reynolds was in a terrible mood. Whether what he was doing fell under the category of sulking or mourning, he was just not dealing well with the supposed loss of everything and everyone he knew. He went through the motions of talking to a few people, asking them questions about Stacy and their purpose; he even managed to make friends with some of them. But regardless of how friendly he was with them, they couldn't fill the sudden void that had settled on him, making him feel like he was carrying a load of bricks.

So, retreating from the Obs deck, where he'd returned to after visiting a few locations on boarrd, he made his way to the Sensorium, seeking solace in a simulation of his ship Serenity. He wandered through the simulation until he found the room he was looking for: the dining area. Mal slowly walked over to the heavy wooden table, and sat down in one of the chairs, his mind reeling from the shock of finding himself on board the ship and everything he'd learned since arriving.

But, as he sat there totally lost in thought, his instincts, sharpened from wartime experiences and other dangers, warned him that someone else was in the room with him. Without bothering to turn around, he asked, "What do you want?"

There's a familiar sight in the sensoriums. New York stretches out underneath Peter's feet, starting with the Baxter Building. Perched on the roof with a beer and a ghettoblaster playing Strangers, he picks out his old house in Forest Hills with Aunt May and MJ's next door; his inner city apartment with Harry. Out in the Village he can make out ESU, where he met Gwen and the Bugle building where he met his first love and his greatest nemesis. Doc Conners' lab and Ryker's Island.

It was all gone. And despite what his 'saviours' had assured, he feared that those people were gone too.

Being here on this ship, it was too much. He'd exchanged one war for another. He hadn't seen his friends and family in so long, and he'd never had a chance to say goodbye.

S.H.I.E.L.D's helicarrier hums to itself as it hovers above the city. Peter screams and hurls the beer bottle. His augmented strength is enough to pitch it into the carrier's hull, where it shatters and in pieces tumbles into the streets below.

He screams again, his face in his hands, and a voice speaks up. One that he hasn't heard before. One that would send a chill down his spine if it weren't already occupied.

We have each other, Peter.

And the Kinks play on, "Strangers on this road we are on, we are not two; we are one."

Katara had her time to laugh and her time to cry after finding out about her world. She'd had fun with her Outsider friends, she'd broke down in front of a person she would rather have not done that with and she was still adjusting to recent events. Throughout all that had happened, there was still the silver lining: Toph was here, and now there was only one more person she was waiting for and all of her team, would be back together again. She knew that joining the Outsiders had been a step in the right direction: she felt like she was missing something, like a part of her was just going through motions. Her friends fulfilled that, and she was glad, but there was a little part of her that wasn't filled.

So Katara found herself back in the Sensorium's, specifically the Northern Water Tribe Spirit Oasis, one of her favorite places. It was the second time she'd been here, and she was glad to be there: it was the only place in the Northern Water Tribe not covered in ice, and it was known to be a gateway to the Spirit world. The lush, quiet place never failed put her in a quiet state, and she sat there now, cross-legged and breathing slowly.

She could deal with this: she had to. But it wouldn't happen if she wasn't grounded and quiet, willing to center herself and contemplate her role in this place that would now be her home.

A mass of zombies has laid seige to the Vatican.

Time to fight for your lives!!!

Stacy jerks and shudders to a sudden stop, likely upsetting more than a few things already upset because the comms have stopped working. And deep down inside Stacy, on the first level, a little section thoughtfully titled "Contagion Containment and Quarantine" spilled open.

Hal 9000 had opened it up. And the things that had been kept there were still alive.

Or at least, they were moving...

Their groans echoed through the lower level as they spilled out of Quarantine 1, shambling and shuffling toward the Hub. The Hub would take them where they wanted to go. And what they wanted to do first was make some new friends.

So they went to the Pod Caverns. Then, after that, the zombies started heading up to the City...

[[OOC: Holy $#%&, Team Left Behind, ZOMBIES. Going to set up some subthreads, please wait until I do! INFO HERE, FIRST SUB-THREAD GO GO GO!]]

She hadn't kept track of the days much anymore. She did know that when she tried to sleep though, it wasnt a nice fitful sleep. She hadnt expected as much to begin with, considering she hadn't had that kind of sleep since being here, but somehow, her dreams had gotten progressively worse. Now there would be glimpses of things, bits and pieces of a memeory she was only starting to unravel, a secret fear she had that would make her feel apprehensive and uneasy when she woke up. She alwaus seemed to wake up the same way too: with a start, tears running down her cheeks. She couldn't figure out why she would wake up like that in the first place, but she would somehow get the feeling that she was forgetting something, and for a moment, there was an air of somebody she cared about sharing her pain.

It was a memory she grasped at, almost had then lost again.

This time, she just sat up, wiping her face and taking an exasperated breath. Not much had changed: they'd gotten a new person is the brig, who was just as likely to be here a long time like anyone else. Besides, Katara was curious as to who were the new arrivals on the ship: would they be anyone she knew?

(Open tag for Katara for visitors/cell mates, but also a general cell post if any visitors might want to drop in on the detainees.)

[Instructions: Here.]

Mahatma Gandhi once said: "In matters of conscience, the law of the majority has no place."

It was entirely likely that the crew would be very split on interpretation of that quote. Some thought the right thing was punishing what they saw as a mind-slaver for a crime with the ultimate penalty. Others thought that if a trial had dictated that imprisonment was punishment enough that it truly was.

It was time to move the Yeerk, in its containment unit, from the Precinct in the City, to its secure prison in the MedBay, where its prison sentence was to take place.

It was also time for the conspirators to move and make sure that it never made it.

( There's a storm brewing )

When he was ready, he finally called all of security into one of the briefing rooms. In front of where he stood, there was a holographic layout of part of the city, which highlighted the few direct routes between the Precinct and the Hub. Somewhere along those routes Sam would have to attack, since outside of the city, Stacy wouldn't let him.

Out of all of the routes, he chose the widest walkway there. Right now they had Sam outnumbered and outgunned, but none of that mattered if they didn't have room to utilize it.

A group of six, consisting of Leon, The Master Chief, Samus Aran, Worf, Marcus, and Ronon, were going to take the Yeerk. Carol Danvers would be flying overhead. The rest of the Security team would be along the route, keeping watch out for Sam, but their primary function would be crowd control. If Sam attacked, it would be up to them to protect the bystanders first and foremost, and keep others from getting involved. If people started jumping in, the situation could spiral downwards in a hurry. He did not want a riot on his hands The six with the Yeerk would be the primary ones to engage Sam and whoever he had with him.

When Leon addressed the group, he spoke as if he was laying all his cards out on the table, but he did not mention his suspicions about a traitor among them. They needed to trust each other, and they needed to believe that he trusted them. And he did trust them... he trusted them enough to mention the sub-armory, where some of the more high powered weapons, non-lethal riot ordinance (including rubber bullets, flashbangs, tear gas, and beanbag shotgun rounds) and basic body armor (re: Kevlar) was available to them.

But there were still a few cards he was going to play close to the vest.

"All right, people, that's the plan. Any questions?"

Today, the sensoriums are decked out like a baseball field, enshrouded in conifers. A storm rumbles overhead and while there may not be any vampires hanging around, Supermassive Black Hole could quite possibly be playing in the background. And Peter Parker, decked out in a Meatship Mets jersey, could quite possibly be dancing his way up to the plate.

"... and now Parker steps up to bat," he commentates peppily to himself, "It's been a tough start to the season for the young Forest Hills leadoff. The coaches are attributing his bad form to an unfortunate case of abduction but at only twenty one, he's certainly got pluck."

From the mound a pitching machine groans into life and spits out its first ball. There's a resounding crack as he drives the ball squarely down centerfield, his spider-strength powering the ball way off into the trees.

"We caught up with Parker after the game for a few words on his magnificent opening punt post-game." he continues, "'Well, what can I say Kent? After the last few misfires we decided to keep play simple this time around. I just play to my strengths, Kent. I've got a good arm and as my uncle taught me, with great power comes great responsibility...'"

So, anyone up for a game of metabaseball? Somebody has to shut him up.

Carol was so very glad for the sensoriums. They were marvelous, to say the least. Which is probably why, the moment she found them, she kept coming back for longer and longer periods of time. She'd been flying over New York City, during Wanda's little House of M world. She'd been surfing in Hawaii, went hiking through a rain forest, and even visited with her brother. The last one had been a bit creepy for her, but it was nice to see him again. She'd even fought some AIM guys as she worked out. All in good fun, but now it was time to rest and relax. And this place was perfect for that.

"Beach. Bright white sand, clear blue sky, and the ocean gently crashing on the shore. Make sure I have a comfortable lounge chair.. and some fruit drink." She smiled as the room flicked into view around her and she relaxed back on the pillow topped lounge chair. She looked down at her outfit, the plant suit, and then looked up. "Black bikini. String. Oh and I'll need sunglasses." She let herself smile as the things she asked for appeared.

"Now if you could just bring me a pretty boy to tend to my every whim, this would be paradise."

After being released from stasis, having the slime removed from their bodies and clothed in the creepy, pulsing leaf-suit that everyone wore, and being taken to the Weapons & Possessions lockers to collect their belongings, the new arrivals would find themselves standing in the Observation Deck. Round windows lined the fleshy walls, revealing the bright display of lights that was inter-dimensional travel. They would also discover that there were people--members of the command staff and crew that had woken earlier--waiting for them.