Who: Daniel Jackson, Vala Mal Doran, Eva, The Master, Eleventh Doctor, Jamie McCrimmon
Where: Kalimba (planet side)
Summary: A small crew goes on an archaeological expedition to a jungle planet, where System Lord was imprisoned. Taking Daniel as his host, he captures the crew and tortures them, while rebuilding his fleet.
Warnings: Violence, torture, gore

((Part One and Part Two here))

As time drew on, there was no sign of Stacy, rescue parties or of a single landing pods. The typhoon season approached closer with each day, rain and wind spattering the leaves on some days, varying between intense heat and humidity on other days. The megafauna in the jungles had grown more active too. The earth rumbled under their feet as they starting their migration amidst hooting calls and croaks. Throughout the varying weather, one thing remained constant. The hive of activity around the three step pyramids never ceased, slaves either taking shifts or in the most fanatical cases, working themselves near to death or to death. It was like this all across Kalimba. The call had gone out with the instructions for the slaves: work was to begin on restoring the Crocodile God's fleets underneath each step pyramid all across the planet. They were his Chosen, his Children, and he would ensure they were rewarded for their faith.

The complex swarmed with slaves and guards moving weapons and parts. Sobek and his personal guards were also in and out more often as the fleet began to take shape, often traveling to other sites to check on progress. Stones fell away from each ship as far as the eye could see. More and more of each ha'tak was revealed, while lines of human bodies went inside to work on the interiors. If the number of step pyramids that towered through the jungle were any indication, his fleet would be massive.

((same as Part 2: run your own posts with each other, more private threads with Sobek are available at the start. Part 3 does not have to immediately include end-plot stuff. If you want more CR amongst each other or your character being messed with by Sobek, please do!))

||Attention, Attention. All personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention. All personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention, all personnel...||

Stacy's voiced called the entire crew, until all of them were gathered at the Obs Deck. Then, a dossier appeared on the screens, along with the image of a rotating planet.

Planet Designation: Pelau
Status: Terrestrial, H-class.
Non-sentient life: Moderate flora and fauna.
Semi-Sentient Life: Yes.
Sentient Life: Yes
Water: 75% of the planet's surface.

Climate: Climate varies by region.
Landscape: Landscape at the North Pole varies. Within the biodomes, significant development. Outside the domes remains mostly pristine.
Air: Normoxic concentration: 29% oxygen, 60% nitrogen, 3% xenon, 6% trace gases, such as hydrogen, krypton, and argon.

Air Pressure: 14.352 pounds per square inch.
Sky: Blue/violet with white clouds.
Sun: A class D4K, yellow star.

Warnings: Be careful of frostbite outside the biodomes.

Mission: None. Shore leave is now initiated.

[Here's a handy map of the North Biodome where the crew is being dropped]


( Read more... )

Sakura finished the move without comment, taking the last of her personal effects from the Teahouse and closing the door quietly behind herself. Her ribs had healed, if the bruising was still visible over most her midsection. She'd been lucky in ways many others hadn't. For one, she'd been awake, and she was alive.

Yet none of this was on the forefront of her mind, if some lingering irritation came in waves, along with frustration, sadness, and things she didn't want to name. Easier to shove them to the side and deal with the things she could, one by one. Work counted. Work always counted, and always helped center and ground her.

There were other things she could focus on, even if those, too, were in uncomfortable areas. She wouldn't have entertained thoughts about asking, not before recent events, but in the wake, it felt like -- escapism. Focusing on stupid details that Sakura wasn't comfortable with, and how to make up for gaps she didn't know how to bridge.

Decisions weren't always easy to make. Sakura had a lifetime of (admittedly short) experience to pull this conclusion from, but she also knew that making decisions was an important part of progress. Which was, perhaps, why she ended up trying to track down a woman she'd spoken to face to face only a handful of times. Eva. There were... things she wanted to ask, and others to try and explain. Maybe Eva would have answers, or at least the sense of a woman who'd lived so many decades that she could help someone much younger than herself interpret and understand what others might know more intuitively. If she could find her. If she could make herself speak up in the first place.

Planet Designation: Kalimba Status: Terrestrial, H-class.
Non-sentient life: Extensive flora and fauna.
Semi-Sentient Life: Unknown
Sentient Life: Ruins and step pyramids suggest the presence of intelligent life at some point. Currently: Unknown.
Water: 70.2% of the planet's surface. Heavy rainfall/monsoons.
Climate: Earth-like.
Landscape: Primarily jungle and swamp, some plains, severe arctic conditions in northern and southern poles.
Air: Type I (breathable)
Sky: Blue-green.
Warnings: Medium to high levels of megafauna. Watch your step. Conditions in the atmosphere make several forms of orbital scans and equipment unreliable.
Mission: Archaeological investigation of step pyramids and ruins, investigate for signs of source of abnormal energy signature in target area.

( Read more... )

Eva's little escapade into the brig didn't cure her of violent tendencies. Possibly it rubbed a little shame into them, but she has no intentions of letting her sharpshooting skills go rusty. She's called up a shooting range in the Sensoriums, and is carefully picking cans off a table target she has set up. The revolver's new, another free weapon from the ship since Dr. Jackson never bothered to return hers, but it's the same make as her old one and feels just as natural in her hand.

Lately her moods seemed to have shifted more wildly, like tides in a storm instead of during a streak of fair days. Her happiness at the Halloween festivities was genuine, but so was her misery when she drank herself into a stupor in her room the other day. Perhaps it's the strain of not having quite enough to do with herself, now that she's effectively unemployed. She should remind herself to follow up with Councilmember Bight on her potential position as an organizer.

She shoots three times and destroys two cans; a third refuses to tumble off the table and onto the ground. She grimaces in displeasure and fires the remaining three bullets at the can, which still stubbornly remains on the table. She loads up the chambers again and fires six more times.

The can taunts her.

And people wonder why she has a temper.

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 Sensoriums were good for a few things, Ter'thelas had found. The strange rooms were usually a place he avoided as he found the simulated reality a bit too unsettling for his tastes, no matter how real things seemed. In this case, however, it was rather gratifying. Anyone who might enter would find themselves on a small boat, a yacht in fact, about 40 feet in length and rigged with a single triangular foresail and a mainsail amidships. A handy craft that could be handled by one man, provided he knew what he was doing. The weather, it seemed, was perfect. Bright sun, few clouds, and a stiff sea breeze.

At the aft end on the raised section of the quarterdeck was a small wheel directing the tiller; there stood Ter'thelas, hair tied back and out of his eyes as a sea breeze whipped stray locks of his long mane about him. The vessel fairly danced across the smooth blue-green swell of the waves, raising and falling as the elf set a course for nowhere in particular. For once, he had nothing but himself, the sea, and a fine craft to guide across the waves.

At least until the simulation ended.

Welcome to Kittenland, the most adorable place in Happy Happy Fun World! If you didn't like Kittenland, you probably had no soul at all.

There was the Kitten Go Round, a Merry Go Round where everyone could ride a kitten; the Nyan Cat Coaster, a rollercoaster where the carriages were in the shape of kittens with pop tart bodies, racing along a rainbow track to the constant sound of 'nyanyanyanyan'; the Kitten Petting Corner (with real kittens!); and the Hello Kitty Teacups.

And then there was the merchandise - the Nyan Cat Coaster had a shop of it's own, as did the Hello Kitty Teacups, both with a considerable range in merchandise; there was Kitten Candy, kitten t-shirts, kitten magnets, and more. Oddly enough though, you couldn't buy actual kittens.

[ooc: Feel free to make up any other kitten related rides or merchanise if you want!]]

If Vala's talents lay anywhere in particular, they lay in her seasoned ability to sniff out the seedy underbelly of a place. Before her time on Earth at the SGC medieval taverns just like this one, scattered across the galaxy, had been her life. Shady arms deals done under tables, intel exchanged at a price, secrets slipped over a tankard of ale or an inflated ego, even just plain old gossip could all be found right here, if you knew the right person to ask.

The ne'er do wells, the mercenaries, and more importantly the resistance, congregated at places like this. Stacy was so vastly populated, Vala was absolutely positive that they weren't all willing to fight someone else's war. She'd seen the recruitment drives already broadcast across the communications channel, all the new arrivals that were willing to sign up without so much as needing a shred of evidence before they were metaphorically saluting and pledging their naive and blind allegiance to the cause. If she wasn't so willing to risk her life for a war she knew very little about, then there were bound to be others.

The Drunken Dragon seemed, at first glance, the ideal place to start. Vala wanted to know how to buck the system, how to get hold of contraband, who to give a wide berth to, everything that the hierarchy didn't tell you. That was how you found out how a place really ticked. She might not have anything to barter with, but that could easily be fixed. She didn't have a reputation as one of the best thieves in the galaxy for nothing, and she always had her feminine wiles to fall back on. And even if she did say so herself, her feminine wiles were an incredibly attractive proposition.

Flagon of ale in hand Vala looked around for an empty table, surveying the faces of those already huddled tightly in conversation with a smile warm enough to appear alluring, whilst still not trying to appear overconfident. 'Time to lay on the charm, I guess,' she told herself.

Where to start? He had to resist the urge to pick at the little square bandage on his forehead or the stitches. Daniel put his hands on his hips, where they couldn't get anywhere near his head, and surveyed what was going to temporarily be his domain. Until he got kicked out, at least, but until then, he was determined to squat here. As makeshift archaeology labs went, he'd worked with less. It was a lot to take in; there were an impressive amount of artifacts from the dig. They probably didn't even scratch the surface of Taleen, but they'd brought back a lot anyway. The room was crowded. Practically overflowing. An archaeologist's wet dream. Maybe not Meaning of Life Stuff, but this could keep a person occupied for months. Maybe years, depending on how thoroughly you wanted to go into it.

Daniel didn't make any motion to begin on any of them. He sat down and looked at the tables.

What the hell was he even doing here? Once the excitement and rush wore off, Daniel realized how inappropriate this was. Talk about a lack of priorities. The fact that he was still thrilled about the prospect of spending a day studying them angered him at the same time as it excited him. Sha're was out there, still a host. Or maybe not, if his universe really had been destroyed. Daniel had a hard time wrapping his head around the concept. Part of him still didn't believe it was true. He wanted proof. Something besides Stacy and the Daligig's word. At the same time, having actual proof only meant that what felt like a terrible possibility became cold, hard fact. Maybe he didn't want to know. It was easier on his sanity if he could wonder if SG-1 was out there still.

And here he was, about to get arm deep in relics and a dead civilization. Like it had any bearing on what was supposed to be the most important thing. He should be trying to get back home or - or do something to help everything and everyone he ever cared about.

Sure thing, as soon as he found some good options. So far, Daniel didn't see anything better than staying on this ship. Even if he found a Stargate, it wasn't like he could abandon ship. It wasn't a matter of attachment but practicality. Where would he go? No point of origin, or maybe they were different, and even if he went back to this Earth, nothing was quite the same. It wasn't his universe. He was better off sticking with Stacy, Daniel had to admit to himself. Everything seemed to converge on her. If anything was going to come up that would help, it would more likely happen around her. That left him doing missions while he was on board, working. Maybe they'd find something on one planet, something that could helped his universe. Even with the destruction of Thor's Hammer, he had a chance to find something to help Sha're.

Daniel took a breath. He stood up. He could make himself useful until the next mission. He had a few things he wanted to study first. The mummy they brought back lay on the table. He was dying to start on it. Or there were the Goa'uld devices.

Weeks had passed since the battle, but the Quarter's repairs were coming along at a crawl. Breeches in the hull were one of the most ticklish things to fix on a starship, and the Ohm's weapons had of course fried most of the circuitry and broken all of the conduits around the breech area. Working with salvaged materials as they did, it was an unfortunate fact that sometimes the fittings just... didn't fit.

"You yī dà tuó dàbiàn!" Wash shouted, hurling his spanner across the cramped area he had himself wedged into. It bounced around the inside of the space and fell clattering on the floor of the hanger. "Damn," he said, and started the process of extracting himself from his spot.

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.]

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.

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.]

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.

With all the preparation for the confrontation with the Ohm, the battle itself, and the immediate aftermath, most of the crew were naturally focused on current events. But some crewmembers weren't so up to date on what was happening.

Mainly because they were stuck running mazes with GLaDOS. No matter what was happening the eternal, endless, quest for cake always continued.

[[ooc: okay, so this is basically just a general running-around-the-mazes log for my characters that are stuck running mazes with GLaDOS. It basically covers about a week before Lirath, Lirath itself, and a couple of days after - so anyone who was GLaDOS'd during that time can tag in. Marco, Celestia, and Daja each have their own thread, and Zita might tag in on occasion with GLaDOS herself if she has time.]]

 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!]

 After receiving the warning the Tapestry had provided them, along the order to begin preparations from Councillor Kang, the crew had been getting ready for upcoming combat with the Ohm.

Unfortunately, the rather vague nature of the warning they received meant they had no particular way of knowing exactly when this battle would occur. Understandably, this put some of the crew on edge, but at the very least they had some prior warning that they would be facing the Ohm, rather than being thrown blind into such a dangerous situation. Combat drills, vehicle maintenance and armory inspections seemed to be regular sights for the week or so following Kang's message. Not much time to prepare, but the crew worked with what was given to them.

Eventually, however, the call came.

||Alert, Alert,|| Stacy called out throughout the ship, ||Priority One message from GIA High Command. All crew members please report to the Obs Deck. Repeat, Priority One message from GIA High Command, All crew members please report to the Obs Deck...||

Stacy kept repeating the message over and over until the crew began making their way towards the Obs Deck to receive the message.

[ooc: As implied by the post, we're assuming the crew's ICly had a one-to-two week heads-up about the battle. It was supposed to be played out, but RL timing prevented this from working out. Feel free to come up with the details of your character's preparations on your own

Also, as usual, please wait for subthreads to go up before tagging in.

Edit: It's up! Feel free to start tagging in!]

[Takes place right after clone plot and arriving back on Stacy. After there]

“First sharks and now explosions!” The Doctor held up his ruined sonic screwdriver and turned it in the light. “I’ll have to proof against both, I suppose.”

He crossed the Hanger in long strides, expecting Otter Soother Daniel Jackson to keep up. Daniel had held himself rather well during the whole clone thing and what was more, he even saved his sonic for him! The Doctor found himself feeling rather fond of the human right this moment. Good man! Resourceful! But also being annoyingly close-mouthed about what he might have picked up from that encounter with the Other Doctor, which was surprising because he thought he knew humans and if there was anything he learned from all his time amongst them, it was they loved talking almost as much as he did! Questions in particular were their favorite, no matter how obvious or rhetorical or downright silly. Big big fan of the obvious questions. Basically they were a chatty species.

Part of the reason why he’d asked Daniel to come with him to the TARDIS.

If he was lucky, Daniel would tell him what he’d seen from that clone on his own, given enough time and company.

The Doctor was tucking the sonic back into his pocket when they came into sight of the TARDIS. He only paused for the briefest of beats as he took in the fact the old girl’s doors were wide open, positively gaping open! This wasn’t looking very looked out after and he wondered if maybe Jamie’s memory retention was failing thanks to him being an ex-dead man. Clearly the human needed a talking to! He approached cautiously, poking his head inside.

Everything in the console room looked in order, if you ignored the suspicious trail of foam cups leading away from the door and a few minute scratches on the glass which he knew for a fact hadn’t been there since he last checked. The Doctor’s lips pursed as he peered about, head weaving as he checked under the control console and then straightened. Where was Jamie? In fact, where were the rest of his friends?

“Better have a look around,” the Doctor lied, perhaps too cheerfully. “Long time away from home and I’m afraid River’s gone and organized things. I’m very specific on my organization system, I’ll have you know.”

He made a vague shooing motion at Daniel.

((So basically this is thread two, with the Doctor/Daniel/Rory jumping into a TARDIS taken over by the Master. Since the Master can switch up rooms (up to the players in the threads for what's wrong with the rooms) and trap people/shift people around, I guess assume timey-wimey things to allow different characters to stumble into each other? But yeah, I guess do subthreads for characters stumbling and we can subthread different people running into them.

I think we're looking at people in the TARDIS as: Victoria, Martha, The Master, River, Jamie, Doctor, Daniel, Rory, Amy, Eva. If I missed anyone, poke me!))

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.