True to his word, Allen has diagnostic exams ready for the taking. A stack of personal screens from the media lab sits next to his work table in the Engineering department, all programmed with tests. Long ones, since they're diagnostic, not cumulative.

One of them is, in fact, programmed with Superboy's name on it. Because Allen is a smartass like that.

"You know Stace, it would be nice if I could have a sign for the door. 'Open Call for Students-slash-Teachers,' something like that," he says, as he roots through the engineering department, looking for just such a thing to make a sign with.

Anyone who ventures near the bathrooms will hear odd, strained clanking noises, to the point of possibly making some wonder if one of the Transformers is trying to go and having a hard time of it.

This is not a sign of one of the 'bots on board needing more robo-fiber, however.

Brainiac 5 is up to something.

Surprisingly, his techie hijinks are something he's been ordered to do--Jaime, the one in charge of the team trying to open up more of the ship has tasked him with building things to scout out where the waste goes, to use that to find out more about Stacy's hidden structures and ductwork, and that's exactly what he's doing--building an array in the bathroom to control and track the sensor-bots he's about to send where the sun don't shine.

"Hmm...still losing signal strength..."

Spot had, as usual, been wandering the halls, making the most of the large ship. She'd also been hunting for Data, a search thus far fruitless. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't here, just that she hadn't found him. So the small feline continued to hold out hope for his arrival. In the meanwhile, she would just have to find ways to distract herself. Normally this would mean playing with one of Data's toys, or clinging to Riker's legs with untrimmed claws. This fun was a bit more aggressive, however.

Surprisingly (and strangely), Spot had managed to activated one of the many training holos in the Sensorium, and was now running through the halls of a ruined spaceship or space station. Occasionally there was a tall, bipedal creature walking around, making rounds through the halls. The first one of these suffered a most unfortunate, as for some unknown reason, the hallway that Spot and the creature found themselves on was floating over a large pool of magma, with little more than a safety rail to protect them.

Spot crawled stealthily toward the alien, glaring up at it with her angry little eyes. The repeated pattern of walking told the cat two possible things: it was guarding something, or it was inordinately stupid. Spot was inclined to believe the latter. She swooped in as the alien made its next turn, slipping between the creature's feet. With a shrill trill, the alien tripped, rolled, hit the rail, broke it, and fell into the lava.

House cat one, alien scum zero.

Earlier, somewhere in the Vatican's outbuildings:
Carefully, Murphy poured a little of the precious liquid into a dish, then placed the bottle far, far away. He nodded to his brother who then, with great ceremony (and from a safe distance) lit a match and tossed it in.

The flame burnt fast, bright, and blue.

The twins grinned.

******

The next flame burnt a decidedly different color, and distinctly higher. The boys jumped back, laughed, and Murphy pointed at his twin.

"You're trying it first!"



( Now, nearly everywhere... )

[ooc note]

Where has Dean been, do you ask?

Well, for one, he's been relaxing. That mission thing? Ridiculous. Dean's pretty sure he's not going to be emotionally traumatized, because hell, obviously he's been through worse, but man, that was one hell of a trip. So he's in the mindset of believing that yes, he deserves some downtime. That's why he's in the Sensoriums, his favorite usual hang out on the giant meatship. The room's turned into Bobby's junkyard again, only this time he's got his Impala. He's working on fixing the problems he'd told Stacy to program into the car, and really, this is probably the most relaxing thing he's done in a while.

Of course, he wouldn't mind having some company. He's thinking about seeing if Stacy can conjure him up a Bobby, just to have someone to banter with, but he hasn't really decided yet. So at the moment, he's under the hood of the Impala, messing with something with a wrench while Led Zeppelin's You Shook Me plays from a boombox nearby. He may or may not be singing along as he works.

Life is good.

Tilting her head a bit to the side, Temperance leans a little closer to the skeleton that was on the examining table. Obviously she is in one of  the sensoriums which has kindly recreated her lab from the Jeffersonian. Sadly it hadn't bothered to give her a replica of Angela or Zack or Hodgins. Even though she likes to work alone, she has to admit she misses the constant barrage of chatter that seemed to follow where ever those three were.

Reaching out with a gloved hand, she runs her fingers gingerly over the skull before carefully picking it up and examining it closer. "Hmmm....." she mutters aloud. "The skeleton is in remarkably good shape.  Female, and based on the dentition and condition of the vertebrae, she was fairly young. Possibly in the mid to late twenties, though no older than mid thirties."

It's not even a real dead body, but it's enough to keep Temeperance from going stir crazy and it actually in a way relaxes her.

[ooc: Read this bit.]

Something happens outside the ship. There's a concussive noise like something docking, and then the doors to Obs open again, to reveal a mostly intact, but somewhat bedraggled away team. One of them is injured, and part of the group works to get her down to MedBay, some of the others look stoic and a touch upset with what they've learned.

Some look pissed off that their various morphers and power suits have been stolen away from them again by Stacy's tentacles or dampened.

Something happens INSIDE the ship. A handful of individuals are released from their pods after quite some time of running imaginary mazes.

Part of the crew might be gone, but life on the ship goes on. In fact, new people have woken up and, eventually, they've been spat out into the mess hall.

Maybe it's better to introduce them to some of the worst aspects of ship life first, right?

Anyway, the word is out that there's new people, and someone should probably go say hello. Before the n00bs mistake the glop for crew.


[ooc: read before tagging, plz]

[[OOC: Read this before tagging.]]

It seems like things around the ship have been getting rather lively lately.

And now, it's about to get even more lively.

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

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

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