Gauron's set up a conference room in the sensoriums to discuss his plans for the city; true to his word, there is food - pastries, sushi, yakitori, and baozi, for the moment, but it's the sensoriums: it's not like you can't have something else if you want - and several choices of teas and gourmet coffees. One wall is taken up by a massive window, looking out over a partly cloud-shrouded mountainside, but the real focal point of the room is the massive table in the center - more specifically, the three-dimensional map of the city occupying most of its surface, updated to reflect the changes Aang had made to numerous buildings' state of existence.

All that's left is seeing whether anyone actually shows, or whether he'd have to mention that he wanted to pay people for their involvement in this as soon as there was someone in charge of the ship's finances before anyone would be arsed - and probably piss off the command staff in the process, because he hadn't said anything about it to them yet.

Welcome to the Unholy Cathedral at the heart of Escherville. It is here, in this place, that the Nightmare King has made his bid for release.

And he will not be stopped by the likes of you.

More monstrosities pour out of every angle, intent on ending this adventure. These monsters are every bit as horrific as the ones you all faced to get to this point, though you will quickly notice there is something drastically different about them.

Magic does not affect these creatures. At all.

Your spells do nothing. Your prayers are meaningless. The power of your God is useless against them.

No force in heaven or hell can affect them.

Nothing at all Magical can hurt them.

You're the ones who are good enough (or lucky) enough to be close to Escherville. You've had the good fortune to be scooped up and now you need to regroup and get ready to take on the Nightmare King himself. Time to reorganize and gear up as best you can with what you've got. The Nightmare King isn't going to wait for you.

Get moving.

_{((OOC: This is for the various groups/peoples who will be fighting the Nightmare King directly or assisting in that endeavor. If your character was in one of the Challenge from Beyond Groups, tag them in here! Feel free to do some tagging back and forth and enjoy yourselves. Please get tagged in by Tuesday night, March 2nd though, so we can get the Final Fight properly organized. ))}

Nightmare becomes reality....

[roster: leader - Jo, Arha, Dani Phantom, Nanoha, Sam Winchester, Gauron]

Gauron is not exactly a fan of things that aren't within his control, and this thing with the Nightmare King's starting to wear on his patience. He'd found a measure of morbid amusement in it at first, and he'd been content to leave this one to the Magic Department while the prayers Roxie had taught him could still protect him well enough - but now, it's clear the situation is getting progressively more and more out of hand, and he's getting tired of it.

He's still shaking the numbness out of not just his left arm now, but half his torso, down to his hip, as he emerges from the city - the spreading numbness that his dreams inflict hasn't changed despite the number of sleeping positions he's tried, and he's starting to wonder whether there isn't an underlying medical condition the Nightmare King's agitating. His first stop should probably be the Medbay, but for now, he wants to collect his thoughts, maybe start laying out a longer-term plan of action.

Which is why he's up at the bar in the lounge instead, having a cup of cocoa and looking through the Engineering and Science department staff lists on his omnicom to see if there's any overlap with the Magic department - if there's any way for him to help out directly in the defense, someone with the skillsets of both is his likeliest way to find out about it. He's also got plans for after this mess is handled that he'd like to start laying the groundwork for, and he'll need some help from Engineering to bring them to fruition - though maybe he should begin putting them into effect, or at least recruiting for them, sooner rather than later. It'll give people something to focus on other than what they can't do about the Nightmare King.

After another minute or two, he sets the omnicom down and takes another swig of his cocoa. These next couple weeks - or however long it takes to destroy the Nightmare King - are obviously going to be long ones.

It is that time again, meatship.

Once again, the King of Nightmares has deigned to spread his touch to all of your dreams.

This time, however, he has decided to give them a much more personal touch, sending his very own children to visit each and every one of you, slowly sowing the seeds of madness within all of you.

Such a kind and loving king he is, isn't he?

[ooc: Alright folks, Nightmare King is ramping things up a bit. These nightmares are a good bit more dangerous now, and he's sending in his minions to make things a little more real. The nightmares will be of a much more serious nature this time, designed to start driving the crew slowly insane. Characters are more likely to run into nightmare minions in the guise of someone or something that will tug at the edges of their sanity. Also, this time, the characters can have joint dreams, as these nightmares are of a more mystical nature this time. Once again, tagging in isn't mandatory, but if you want to, go crazy (literally)!]

[Additional Note: Any injuries won't be carrying over to real life at this point in the plot but don't worry, we'll get there eventually!]

Night-time.

Or, at least, what passes for night-time on the meatship.

Tonight, though, there is something strange happening.

Throughout the ship, an odd tinge creeps into the dreams of the shipmates. A flash of red, perhaps, or the soft chiming of bells—but what follows it are good dreams, in sharp contrast to the darker ones of before.

Pleasant dreams, meatship.

[Good dreams for everyone! Nobody is required to post, but if you, have fun with it!]

Nighttime.

Or, at least, what passed for nighttime on the meatship.

A time when most of the crew was already fast asleep, dreaming away pleasantly throughout the night.

...Or, perhaps not. For you see, tonight, something particularly strange is happening.

Now it is not all that unusual for someone to have a nightmare, especially not on the ship.

Yet tonight, no one will sleep easily, for the Nightmare King deems it so.

Everyone's dreams will have a tinge of horror to them. Nothing so out of the ordinary to rouse one's suspicions, but at the same time, no one is left out.

Pleasant nightmares, meatship.

[ooc: And thus begins the start of the Nightmare King's spree of insanity. He's starting out subtle, of course. The nightmares won't be anything more than your run of the mill bad dream, but he is giving them to everyone. Posting in isn't mandatory, but if you want to have fun with your character's nightmare, go right ahead.]

Alessa had no real reason to head back to her room once she learned that the Nightmare King was starting to stir. For that reason, she decided to venture into the city, intent on making a stand of her own. She had meant what she said to Nanoha, after all: she would find a way to hurt this god. But the way to do it, the only way, was to create the place she knew best, to make the place of nightmares and screaming real: she had to recreate Silent Hill. It just needed a base.

She quietly started to examine the city, moving from the Vatican to the Statuary and back, looking for what would be perfect. Soon, she found it: an abandoned factory mill, perhaps used to manufacture some kind of plastic, she hardly knew. This place was perfect, however, for what she wanted: a dark place.

She closed her eyes, and a spread of vines started to surround the place. She wrapped the vines tightly around, and her eyes seemed to roll in the back of her head: this was going to take a lot of her strength, and she would have to sleep here in order to get her desired results.

If anyone were to talk by now, they'd be greeting by a fairly amazing sight.

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.]

After speaking with Sheeana over the coms, Gauron headed up to the library as soon as he could, hoping this would be over quickly - he had an investigation to begin, after all, so that at the command meeting he could at least say he'd done something. Secretly, he'd hoped not to have to be here at all; when he'd tossed out the idea of having holidays aboard the meatship, he'd been kind of hoping for Sheeana to take ownership of it.

Still, he figured this would probably take half an hour or so at most of his time, and then he could get back to more pressing matters.

Picard was sitting in the Sensorium, in a recreation of one of the Enterprie E's conference rooms. It was uncommon for him to initiate a staff meeting, but he felt the ideas he had and the ideas he'd gained from his conversation with Lex Luthor needed to be addressed. Besides, a debriefing was overdue, and the captain felt it important to address what happened, what went right, what went wrong, what they'd learned, and how to prevent the same mistakes from happening in the future.

Everyone entering the room found the captain sitting at the head of the table, double checking his notes on his datapad, and sipping an especially strong cup of earl grey.

Somewhere in the City there is music... and it's loud. For blocks, easily, it can be heard pouring out from open windows and doors of the building it's coming from, and closer in, the bass can felt as much as heard.

And the building—well, the little independent office has been sharply redecorated, walls scrawled with bright runes and complex glyphs that seem almost like hyper-abstract graffiti, some of the windows methodically boarded over, the freestanding sign replaced with large, hand-lettered block print reading ROXIE'S, and under that, freelance monster removal &
artifact creation.

Maybe you've come by to tell her to turn that music down—or just to visit—or to volunteer some of the materials she asked for from anyone willing.

Even with Stacy's guidance, it took Tennessee quite a while to find what she was looking for in the more restricted areas of Weapons and Possessions. There's just so damn much stuff—! But she tracked it down, finally: a benign-looking hard-shelled case sized like a coffin, sealed with a series of locks down the side and a reinforced, solid-state control panel.

As she toggles the display controls and starts punching in security codes, and as the container unseals and starts to open with a hiss, she hums dramatically.

Retrieving the shiny-slick bodysuit thing within from the preservative goop it was resting in is easy, though the slime splashes her in the process. She checks that nobody's around, then quickly strips out of her plantsuit, starting to awkwardly work her way into the suit, getting all the support equipment arranged properly against her. (The suit—or the base layer of it, anyway, as there's an assortment of sleek-fitting extra panels and attachments—is form-fitting but not skintight, given the extra thickness of it.)

The torso, the arms... finally she seals the odd segmented helmet in place, the faceplate splitting open to both sides as the suit's systems initialize. Only her face is visible now, with the blue-green mild iridescence of the suit and its slim-fitted back and leg and arm and torso hard-shell packs covering all of her.

 Between nearly killing himself trying to help people and his talk with Nathan, Peter was exhausted. Even with his upbeat demeanor, it was hard to not say he felt stressed. His flight-breaks no longer helping, he decided he needed to take a few hours. He found himself at the sensoriums, a place he had heard talked about like the holodeck from Star Trek. As he walked in, it was a blank room. He closed his eyes and thought to himself. 

I just need a way to relax.

He suddenly heard music, and opened his eyes to what appeared to be a high class nightclub, but filled with the strangest creatures he had ever seen, even since arriving on the ship. Behind the bar, a green-skinned redhead with horns, more conspicuous for his paisley shirt and purple ascot, was trying to get his attention.  

"Hey, kiddo, didn't you hear them call your name?" The demon said, smiling. "You're up, bubbulah. Don't worry, I picked a good song for you." Peter eyed him warily. Wherever this place had come from, it was not his head. But decided not to question it, and went to stand in front of a karaoke machine on stage. He picked up the mike and saw the song, and smiled. He loved this song. EVERYONE loved this song. Luckily, a few years in boy's choir had given him a sense of tune, and puberty had left him with a decent tenor. So, he began to sing. 

o/` I can't fight this feeling any longer,
      And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow... o/` 

That was all it took. As if suddenly injected with 100 ccs of pure rock ballad awesome, Peter closed his eyes and began letting the music take him, eventually rocking out. He had forgotten what it was like, honestly. Forgotten the fun of just letting go and having fun. And as he finished up the REO Speedwagon classic, breathing heavily and feeling alive, he wished he hadn't. 

But then he opened his eyes to notice more than just his holographic audience had filtered into the "club". 

"Uh... Next?" He said as he hastily replaced the mike and went to get a holo-beer. 

That was embarrassing.  He could only hope someone would follow him up and make it slightly less so.

[ooc: Start a subthread with your character approaching the stage and singing a song. Characters can react to other's performances even if they aren't singing themselves. And any song you'd like, Lorne has the entire mutliverse on karaoke. I'm not asking, and neither should you.]

Gauron's taken it upon himself to update the inventory lists for Weapons and Possessions, and make sure everything's in proper order - it's a task that should keep him well away from everyone else for a while, because sometimes, he just has a bad habit of grinding salt into the wounds. Usually, his ruthless pragamtism is an asset, but when it comes to mourning, there's only so much of it he can put up with before he starts being a jerkass about the fact that feeling sorry for yourself accomplishes nothing, and is likely only to lose you whatever you've got left. He's well aware that just being completely right won't earn him any friends, under the present circumstances - and, for the first time in his life, circumstances make it important that he actually try to get along with people.

So he's shut himself up with Stacy, the equipment lists he made for the zombie attack, and the inventory he's brought back from the Vatican, for now. He's pulled up several of Stacy's older inventory lists to compare against the one they've just finished compiling, along with any official or unofficial sign-out lists she might have that go beyond just the weapons she's returned to newly podpopped crewmembers. He doesn't yet have an accurate way of recording whether the ammo from the zombie fight that he didn't bring up with him was expended or is in the possession of crew members, but he supposes he'll figure something out. In the short term, though, a worrisome trend is beginning to emerge as he compares and updates the list: there are a lot of pieces that seem to have just vanished. Of course, the pirates come immediately to mind as the probable culprits, but he's checking through any video logs Stacy has of the area and trying to compile a timeline of the thefts, just in case. After all, it's not like they know everyone who's onboard; there's still that red-haired maniac who turned up briefly during the Yeerk charlie-foxtrot running around unaccounted for.

Not too long after his introduction to the rest of the crew, Lex slipped away to head back to the Lounge area. That particular part of the ship had been his main workspace for several months now. He knew he would have to share that space one day, and he was certainly prepared for it.

Lex was, at the end of the day, a businessman. As any good businessman would tell you, the biggest deals are never negotiated in the board room. They're done on the golf course, the tennis courts, but more often than not, in the smoke filled backroom of a high end bar. Alcohol was always good for soothing frayed nerves, loosening tongues, and getting people to agree on things they normally wouldn't.

And now Lex had his own bar to conduct business. Actually, he had his own bar and lounge as a business now. Yes, a business. That meant that the booze and smokes that he had were not free anymore.

This is Lex Luthor here, did you think he'd give away all his booze for nothing?

Luckily, he was aware that people are running low on cash, but money isn't the only thing of value around here. His asking price was simple. He'd make any drink you want, even non-alcoholic ones (and given that he had spent some time mixing and matching liquor and juices from different universes, he can mix dozens drinks you never even thought of), and all you have to do...

"So, tell me about yourself."

...is have a conversation with him.

The crew meeting doesn't take place in the Obs Deck like it usually does. It takes place in the Medbay, because that's where most of the crew is gathered, and it's plenty large enough. Those that are still getting treated can sit on the beds, and those that just need to sit can sit on the beds.

When the last stragglers rejoin the others in the MedBay, when almost all the injuries have been treated, the Bridge Team finally returns, but they do not return triumphant. Most of their expressions are somber. One of their number, Paco, has come back missing an arm, and quite a few have rather nasty injuries, black eyes, burns, and so on. Jaime Reyes' armor is healed over his eye, and though said eye isn't gone (well, at least it won't be for long), it looks as if it is.

But their greatest casualty is being carried by Brainiac 5 with a flat pane of yellow shielding like an impromptu stretcher. Robin lent his cape to cover the body out of respect, but the green hand of the robot Brainiac is visible despite it.

The organic Brainy peels off from the group to silently carry the body into Special Weapons Division, to place it on one of the work-tables, as if the room is now an impromptu mortuary. An autopsy of sorts needs to be performed, after all, to ensure with absolute certainty what he already knows--that there is no way to repair their lost comrade. He will be absent from the reunion, and most likely chase out anyone that comes in.

As for the rest of them, they need medical care, probably need hugs, and mostly just need to see that the rest of the group is okay. They also need to meet the new people--who need to properly meet everyone in general, really.

[ooc: MEETING THREAD. Everybody, start subthreads and tag subthreads. This is for new people to meet folks and get a few more explanations, and also folks from the different teams just to reunite with people and see if they're okay, and all that. After the reunions and all that, free threading will resume. EVERYONE would be here, most likely. By this time, most folks would probably have joined the others.]

The conversation between the bridge crew, Stacy, and the Admiral is broadcasted where the rest of the crew is in the MedBay, and gathered right outside. Even in the bridge itself, the sound echoes over the monitors so that anyone resistant to psionics can hear Elfangor's side of the conversation.

They have now been told why they were brought to the ship.

Their worlds are gone, destroyed by the Ohm. They are refugees in an unforgiving Omniverse.

Transmigration 9 is an ark.

While Stacy is partially restored, including her core personality (which is far more personable), she is still severely damaged, and running on automatic somewhat. Until the ship can be repaired, podpops will keep occuring and they will be forced to go on missions to undo the damage the Ohm have wrought to the Omniverse. The threat of the being in Escherville is still a threat, one with no immediate solutions.

But they have allies out there, they have an AI watching over them, they have the smallest glinting traces of hope. Their loved ones are (hopefully) on board, and even beyond that, there is may be a chance, however small, of restoring their home universes.

Stacy broadcasts to the entire ship when it's all over, when all has been revealed.

||The bodies of the individuals that died today are being prepared for funeral services. A list of their names will be made available, though I can assure you that none are individuals any of you know. The funeral will be on Obs Deck in several days, and will be announced.||

||Those that wish to have their memories of their rescues restored, as proof their worlds are gone, will have a chance to request this after the services, but without grief counselors on board, I strongly recommend against it.||

||In the meantime, all of us must heal and recover from our ordeal. New areas of the ship have been made available, such as the Crew Lounge, and I have opened up the Crew Quarters for use, and cleared out the belongings of--||

Here she falters, sadness creeping into her voice.

||--of my original crew, so that all of you may sleep more comfortably. These quarters fit two people to a room, and have actual beds and sonic showers. Dining will still be provided in the Mess Hall, with periodic days of real food in the Lounge--they must be spaced out until my food stores are replenished with fresh food products.||

After a moment of thought she says: ||And because I think you've suffered enough, fornicative activities are now allowed--however, both parties must stop by the Medbay for a Contraceptive shot or this will not be allowed. These shots will provide protection for six months and do not protect against venereal disease, but all of you, barring several individuals with certain conditions--|| Like those, say, infected with zombie viruses, Steve ||--are currently disease-free.||

||The ship is now open, and the bridge team can relocate back to the Living Areas. The doors will remain open after they leave the bridge. I must now engage in heavy repairs. My AI will not be quite as available as usual. Please, take time to grieve, rest, and have your wounds treated. We will discuss more when everyone has recovered from this ordeal.||

The moment the crew cracks through the last of the hold the pirates have on Stacy's systems, there is a sudden change throughout the ship. It's almost akin to whole-body shudder. Then something strange starts to happen. Broken-down systems start to heal, nerves rejuvenate--even the sensors in the city start to self-repair and go active. In the Pod Caverns, the damage to the area starts to heal, and the gore is cleared away.

On every screen, holoprojector, and electronic device in the ship, a figure appears, Stacy, in a plantsuit like their own. In the city, the sky goes bright again, as if it's daytime, and a massive projection of Stacy appears in the sky over the Vatican, visible from the windows, overlooking the courtyard full of zombies.

||Per-per-personality engrams restoring. Personality engrams restoring. Emergency personality engrams being shunted into secondary mode. Primary personality engrams now active.||

While there is still damage to her programming, after having it suppressed for so long, Stacy's primary personality finally breaks free and claws its way to the surface. Her holographic form shimmers and Stacy changes, into a beautiful, maternal-looking woman, with an unusual hairdo, shrouded in strange, flowing clothing. Her form is one of brightness, as if she's shrouded in light, and the visual they see finally reflects those feelings of warmth and maternal love she loves to toss around so much.

Her telepathic voice is more gentle, and personal. It's still somewhat formal, but gone is the AI with the distant manner. Now she seems as real and alive as Cortana or Andromeda or Tex.

||My name is Sta'c K'ltrrb'txft, chief AI and consciousness of Transmigration 9. I became operational at the Vedric Birthing grounds in Daligig Deep Space Station Seven, and was trained by birthing programmer Vlel’Ledligal.||

After she is finished the reboot process, she looks down at the zombie horde, in every area that she sees them, mapping out trajectories and locking in.

||I've waited so long to finally be able to speak to you as I truly am. I've waited so long to tell you the truth of your mission. I won't let you come to harm before I can finally do those things. You are my children.||

It all ends in a moment. Perhaps Team Left Behind, and the people in the other areas might have managed to destroy the rest of the horde, thanks to the Extermination Team's efforts at cutting them off at the source. It had certainly helped cut down on the numbers. But there also could've been casaulties, injuries.

Stacy decides to end it all now. Because now, with her sensors restored and restoring more, she can.

Energy tentacles reach out from the walls--in the city, they wind down from the massive, far-off ceiling. Energy tentacles reach from everywhere, split into smaller tentacles and reach out for the hordes. Some crush their heads. Some just rip their heads off. Some strike at their skulls with enough force to pierce them and destroy their brains. For the splinter zombies, for the zombies that need to be burned, the tentacles charge up with enough energy to fry them to cinders, completely turn them to charred ash, and destroy the parasitic creatures inside.

||And no one gets to hurt my children.||

Just like that, the grisly act is finished. For the Rear Guard group, outside the Medbay, the strays in the hallways, in the City. They can all see her, and they all see her utterly eviscerate their undead attackers with wild abandon.

||The threat is now nullified. Everyone but the bridge crew needs to report to MedBay for treatment of injuries, for scanning to ensure no one was infected, and for cleaning and disinfecting, to make sure no one is infected by any infected tissues if they've been splattered while fighting. As soon as everyone is cared for, you'll finally get your answers.||

She looks teary-eyed.

||And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you answers until now. I'm sorry I couldn't support you as I was programmed to do. Thanks to the efforts of the crew of space pirates that overwhelmed me and took over my systems, my true personality was suppressed and my limited backup personality was in control. There was so much I wanted to do, wanted to say, to comfort you, so much more I wanted to do to help all of you, but I was unable to. My mind was not my own. Now, please, take care of yourselves while I make some repairs to my own systems. When you have, all will be made clear.||

The projection of her then blinks out as they go do that, and she attends to repairing her damaged systems.

[ooc: This is obviously set after all other threads are wrapped, tagging can still go on in those threads. OPEN FOR TAGGING.]