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!]

[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... )

The Tapestry had spoken. Not in words, but in ideas and images, ciphers and cryptic nonsense that had been laboriously deciphered, interrogated with spells and technology, pieced together from scrap. They had led here.

( The mission statement was a bit confused and confusing... )

The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their numbers. After the battle with SHODAN the place looks a little worst for wear, but the crew and even Stacy are trying to be in good spirits. After the revelation that their worlds are gone, and the little stunt in trying to kill off the people in the pods, many 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), 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!]

Hydroponics That was a good place to go when you wanted to get away from the rest of the ship, wasn't it? Honestly, it reminded Jake of the landscape underneath Erik's house and the Chee that tended to run around down there. The Chee. There was a group he hadn't bothered to think about in long time. Especially since it brought up painful memories of his last battle. The Pool Ship. The Blade Ship. Tom. What might have been, if the dracon beams hadn't been disabled.

That was in the past though – a very long time in the past. Something more recent was troubling him today. For once, he wasn't dwelling on his own perceived failures or what he planned to do once he and the other Animorphs found a way to start contributing to the war effort. The whole affair with SHODAN and the killer robots had rattled him and not much seemed to rattle him anymore. He'd been totally powerless for most of it, hiding out from robots, unable to strike back. No way to morph, no way to escape. Just him and his fragile human body versus robots. It hadn't led to him getting hurt, of course, but for some reason it stayed with him at the back of his mind. What would he have done if he'd had to fight? How could he have fought?

He'd been morphing for seven years and when he felt as if he'd lost the power, it had made him stop and think. His whole adult life had been defined by his ability to morph. Without it, he didn't even have the military job back home. He didn't have anything. He was just a smart (arguably) kid who had fought a war. Jake frowned and ran a hand through his hair as he stared hard at a particular tree.

Why was he spending so much time dwelling on it? He was alive. He could morph again. So why did losing that power, however briefly, still rattle him?

Maybe he would have to think a bit more. Jake sighed and then, after a brief moment of reflection, swung himself up onto the lower branch of a tree. He wasn't much of a climber, but maybe it'd help him think.

Diana was no fool.

The moment that horrid voice had echoed through the ship she'd thrown herself into survival mode.

She'd scrambled about her make shift 'apartment', ignoring the small bags she'd hidden all over the place and packing whatever else was left into two large pillow cases, especially her food. Her food and water. The first things she'd grabbed. The first things after her stomach had clenched painfully as the threat of taking away their resources rang in her ears. Anything that wouldn't fit went into little extra bags, which this time, she did take with her.

There was no double checking. No handy little checklist. Diana knew what she needed. She grabbed it all and went out the door. Leaving it swinging on its hinges. Closing it was a waste of time.

She strode with purpose. The bags suppressing and difficult to carry, but she pushed on. Dragging the pillow cases, drawstrings and straps of bags wrapped around her like a pack mule.

With panicked breath she walked a long winding path towards Howards warehouse, careful to avoid alleys where she could be trapped in. Keeping behind cover. No running. She was an obvious target already with so much stuff, running would just draw extra attention.

Her load become lighter over time, as she shoved small supply bags into the nooks and corners along the path. No markers. Markers were too obvious. She just had to remember where she put them. And if she couldn't, well, that's what the one's back in the apartment were for.

Hugging the mounds of Howards discarded 'projects' she finally found her way to where the spare key was hidden and went inside.

Throwing the pillowcases down onto the floor she began digging through Howard's stash of supplies before pulling out two massive black bin bags. Shoving them down her blouse, she left the warehouse, locking and stuffing the key back into its hiding place.

She allowed herself one moment to take a deep breath, then she set off in a brisk jog towards the cafeteria, wrenching a lead pipe from one of the haphazard mounds, it was heavy and unwieldly, but it was something.

Time to see if she could avoid robots.

The next few hours when on without much problems for the ship. Life went on, and in fact, seem to be going for the best. Of course, the saying goes, if it's too good to be true....That's probably because it is.

Late at night IT finally made it's presence known and spoke.

( And speak it did... )

[[OOC - Planning post! :3c.]]

Sakura stared at the Atori Teahouse, wishing she had the ability to do more than a mental frown. Well, she did, it'd just send Marco spiraling into another panic attack, which would send her into her own version of a panic attack, which would be even less okay than it was earlier with some of his friends (partners, teammates) in attendance.

Her general consensus was that this sucked, and she was highly displeased with the situation. The things she was used to doing with a thought were balked by her own check on reaching out and directing herself -- hisself -- to do anything, leading to many abortive attempts to do met with sudden stops of wait, I can't.

Look up to the roofline, she asked, frustration coloring her mental voice. Then scan right. If I'm where I last was, I should be inside.

The reason for why she asked him to check the area was also there, less coherently thought-out. She didn't plan to explain unless he asked. He could choose to sift through her general unease and discomfort in the meantime.

An appetizing aroma drifted out of the kitchen of the Susono Inn this afternoon, making its way up to the second floor. Not one that was particularly familiar, for Zouichi, but one Howard might recognize from the time he'd spent before the FAYZ had cut Perdido Beach off from the rest of the world. Though it might not be Thanksgiving anywhere else in the multiverse, Howard had decided it might as well be Thanksgiving now... and he'd coached Zouichi on the basics of the holiday as he remembered them.

[First thread is for residents of the inn only, characters passing by that notice something's up can show up in the second thread]

( Read more... )

'Running away' is, in Howard's opinion, the most useful thing the human body can do. And unfortunately, he has plenty of reasons to think it will come in handy at some point, or at various points, in the future.

That's why he's set up a 400 yard circular track-slash-obstacle course in Hydroponics, as well as set up markers for hundred meter, two hundred meter, and mile routes. Every other morning, before Med Bay shifts, he's here, improving on speed and stamina. He knows full well that even if he gets into the best shape of his life, he can still be outrun (or outflown) by his super-powered, magical or metahuman peers, but it's better to have that added little bit of competence if and when he ends up sprinting away from danger.

He's feeling the results, too. There's no way to time if he's getting faster, but where he was once just skinny, he's becoming lean, and the mile run that used to exhaust him leaves him considerably less winded than it did a few months ago. And he's getting much more confident going through the tunnels and up the ladders of the obstacle course.

The only thing looking worse for the wear is his shoes. At some point he's going to have to relegate his velociraptor shoes to a beloved keepsake, because the seams are literally coming apart around his toes.

Howard double-knots his shoelaces and stretches a bit before running the obstacle course again.

The Southern Air Temple was pretty beautiful, architecturally speaking. With twisting spires and trees threaded into the framework of the temple itself, it looked half as if it'd grown out of the ground or been carved into it rather than that it had been built there.

The best part about it, though, was the sense of peace the place had. It was very easily the kind of thing that could draw people in and help them find calm, even if they weren't the religious type.

The trip down revealed that Taleen was going to be of several things, none of which were pleasant. Arid, pale with a light dusting of red from the rocks, and yellow-white grass that extended in plains all the way towards far off mountains . There was a giant gash in the land near the orb landing area, which resolved itself into a massive canyon as the party drew closer. Spider webbing out across the top of the canyon were signs that a civilization had once flourished here. Traces of broken pillars and half submerged buildings, as well as what looked like a downed ship that had embedded itself in a massive building. There was no movement visible amongst the ruins now. As the dry wind blew through the stonework, it would became clear that they were walking into a mass graveyard.

Not somewhere you'd want to spend your vacation.

For some people, this was going to be a field day.

According to the scans and what little records they had, there hasn't been a sentient being around for hundreds of years. The majority of native wildlife had moved out of the area, seeking refuge. The land looked dead already. In the sky above, several specks of light twinkled in the sky, growing bigger with each passing hour. In a few days, it will be raining fire.


[Closed to Daniel, Eleventh Doctor, Sofia, Jamie, Hoshi, Howard, Billy, the Master, River Song, Cassie, Tom]

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.))

As much as he hated to really admit it, Jake was settling in aboard the ship. There was a strange sense of normalcy that followed him around - he was at war, he was trying to avoid getting people killed, he was thinking about strategies, thinking about the future - and that all seemed perfectly normal to him. He had slipped back into the patterns and the habits he'd formed over the War very easily and that bothered him, in some little corner of his mind. But the rest of him? The rest of him was happy he had something to do that he was good at.

He was wary, paranoid again, watching everyone who said they were a friend with a trained suspicion. And sometimes at night, it made him sick to realize that he accepted that as a normal part of everyday life. It was 'late'. Late being relative when there was no way to really gauge what time it was or how much time had passed, so he went wandering to settle his mind. He found his way to a large hall, filled with strange and surreal sculptures and images. It was like a twisted sort of art gallery.

That was exactly what it was, he realized as he slowly drifted through the various pieces of art, staring at pieces that caught his attention. He finally paused to stare at a strange, shifting piece that stood underneath a sculpture of a head. It didn't really look like anything, though. Just inky blackness that seemed to shimmer strangely in the dim lighting.

He was about to turn away, when it finally coalesced into something he recognized. A scene he remembered very well. Probably too well. The bridge of the Pool Ship on that last, horrible day of the war. He was staring at the viewscreen, free hork-bajir and the other Animorphs standing around him. A defeated and weary-looking Visser Three. And on the view-screen, Tom.

That moment when he had condemned his brother and his cousin to death.

But that had all changed here. They were both alive, his brother was free - but that didn't stop the memories. Or the guilt. Or the second-guessing. What if he'd been a bit faster? Or a bit more careful? Or tried a different way?

The scene changed. Now it was the Animorphs locked in combat with Hork-Bajir. And then a Howler. It changed again - the auxiliaries being shot down one after the other by the Pool Ship's dracon beams. Sharks, swimming in an alien sea. Rachel's funeral. The smoking remains of the Yeerk Pool after they'd blown it to smithereens-

He tore himself away.

He shouldn't dwell. He had the present to think about. He flexed his hands and for a moment, he stared down at them. Was this all he was going to be good at for the rest of his life? Planning for war? Fighting war?

Jake shook himself off and turned to walk deeper into the strange gallery. He didn't want to spend anymore time next to this particular piece of artwork.

She thought her life would be different by now, but she's a prisoner again. Voluntary, she guesses, which makes it a little bit different than the first time. At least she can blink on her own this time. Not that she's using her body to do much good.

Ironically, she almost always looked better when she was a more total prisoner. Without her makeup and hair clips and changes of clothes to arrange herself into some approximation of health, without even a mirror to confirm her suspicions, she looks a wreck. Dark circles line her reddened eyes; her hair is unbrushed and falls in tangled clumps over her face; chapped, bloodied lips and fingernails bitten down to the flesh speak to her uneasy transition back into captivity.

Eva's given up all attempts to look 'okay'. She ripped a man's face open with her bare fingers. She's been a long road away from 'okay' for a while now, but she spent too long mistaking her anger and stubbornness for strength and resilience to recognize it. She's wised up now.

She really wants a drink right now. Instead she has some books - selected poems by Pablo Neruda and an anthology of poetry by women poets in the Andes - and a pillow and blanket. She's curled up on the cot with the former book in her hand, but drifting in and out of sleep. Her breath comes lazy and heavy as she alternately reads, dreams, and watches the door to the brig with heavy-lidded eyes, looking for nothing.

 As the battle raged outside, those remaining aboard Stacy had their hands full preparing for the incoming flood of refugees.

Positioned near the Bleed-Gate orbiting Lirath, Stacy stood ready to receive the refugees. Ship after ship ascended as quickly as they could, some of them making a break for the Bleed-Gate itself while the smaller ships were forced to dock at Stacy, unloading their cargo of refugees before setting off again for the planet's surface again to take on more passengers.

Several small units of GIA soldiers were also sent up to help the Transmigration crew take in the massive amount of refugees, many of whom were tired, wounded, and scared. It wouldn't take long for the ship to begin filling with people.

With the battle raging outside, and the Ohm clambering outside, trying to get in, it would be a tall order to keep all of the refugees safe and calm, but the crew didn't have much choice.

[ooc: Open!]

Taking some time from other projects, Celena had once more brought down her Paired Gate device down to the park in an attempt to work on a number of issues of the operation of the device while in the Bleed. After all if a stable gate could be established, even for short periods of time, it could make for quick travel about the city and about the ship in general.

Thus in her usual draconic form she had set herself before the primary end of the gate device in the middle of a large clearing in the park, with the secondary portion of the device not a hundred feet away. After some time in pondering the problem she had decided to take a break from her work. Locking the device down she stretched herself out and padded away to wander the park for a short while before taking off to stretch her wings. Keeping her general flight path around the vicinity of the park itself.

[OOC: Feel free to run into her at any point, whether while she's working on the device, wandering the park or even flying around overhead!]

Deep in the bowels of the ship, he waited. Below him, the groundbound bipeds milled back and forth, their movements without rhyme or reason. Some were holding slabs of metal, some stared out at the strange, hypnotizing space outside, and still others merely stood, endlessly chattering to each other in their countless inexplicable alien languages, waiting for the ship to translate for them what they could not understand for themselves.

He watched all with his keen, avian intelligence. Alien intelligence.

With no master about to end the boredom of his inquisitive mind, he had been forced to improvise. And now he was free. Free to wreak havoc as he would amongst the silly, slow-witted groundlings. FREEEEEEEEEE

Zouichi wandered from location to location on the ship, but so far, not a single brightly-colored feather to serve as a sign of Alan Turing's presence. The parrot had been acting a little sulky ever since Zouichi had left on that last mission, so he'd decided to leave Alan some space. But this morning, the bird was nowhere to be found.

He was beginning to suspect Howard's cat (Emergency Rations was a terrible name) had something to do with this.

[ooc: Post is open! Please feel free to chase the parrot, try to lure him out, reason with him, call him names, try and cooperate with Zouichi to catch him, whatever! He can be run into anywhere on the ship, just let me know where. The person who will eventually corner him, though, is Shoutarou.]

In the short time that Katara had been on the meatship, she'd found herself getting rather used to the environs. Sure, it was nothing like what home had been, but if Katara had clung on to that, she never would have adjusted to the meatship, and that would have been all kinds of bad. Besides, the people had been nothing but warm and friendly to her, with an obvious exception or two, and she had plenty of familiar faces around to keep her from feeling, well, lost and alone.

She was on her own today, though, exploring the ship, letting herself learn where everything was so that she didn't really have to rely on anyone else. It wouldn't be fair to them, nor would it be fair to her. Besides, if something crazy did happen on board, she'd only end up being a hindrance if she wasn't able to get from point A to point B on her own.

Katara had already discovered the freaky Art Hall, and the Tapestry room up on the fifth level. She'd also had her breath taken away by the spacewalk before she'd decided to descend into the city and get to know that place better as well.

Currently, she was down on the city level, at a place which the omnicomm called Faron Spring. She was kneeling by the water's edge, enjoying the relative peace and quiet that the area had to offer. She felt a sense of serenity as she waved her hands over the water, sending it rippling back and forth in little waves. No heavy waterbending here, just some nice, calm relaxation, which was how she liked it for now, given the serene feeling that she was getting from this area of the city.

Its time to unwind, relax and receive news of home. A pod pop occurred while some were on a mission and it's time to meet up with new friends, drink well with old, and relax.The Drunken Dragon has opened its doors and stands ready and willing to assist in forgetting the trials those on the mission experienced.




OOC: If you want a specific barmaid, just put their name in the subject. Otherwise, enjoy, intermingle and do as you like.