Who: Crematia and YOU
Where: Everywhere in the City level, take your pick
Summary: Crematia goes on a stroll. Naked.
Warnings: She is quite possibly the most awful person to grace your presence. Expect her to fling mockery from her behalf, threats, temper tantrums, to even possibly bodily and emotional harm. Watch out.

( Wish you never ever met her at all )

The venue itself was a strange place to discuss what they were discussing. It was a grave matter and they'd known it would be a grave matter the moment they got the mission briefing, even if it left out certain key details. (They knew who they were meant to do a favor for, but only now did they find out what that favor was.)

That was why the place it was being discussed was so odd.

People could live their whole lives without expecting to meet a group of angels in a bowling alley.

They could also live their whole lives without expecting to be asked to do with Grif, Kaya, Sherlock, Azula, and John were being asked to do.

[ooc: posting order: Grif, Kaya, Sherlock, John, Azula.]

The fauxbellion had gone just as planned.

Allenby and everyone else that had 'rebeled' against the Daligig had played their parts well, as had the ones that had put down the rebellion. Command and Council had gained some respect amongst the Daligig, and had been rewarded with more control over Stacy.

The 'rebelers' had been dragged off to the brig under the watchful eye of the Daligig, but had not stayed for long; Aibghalien's illusions had allowed them to leave with the Daligig being none the wiser. Unfortunately, they were paying a little more attention to the prisoners than had been expected.

The portal system (unknown to the Daligig) that Celena had set up allowed for easy access in and out of the Precinct. The prisoners were allowed out in shifts, under the supervision of other crewmembers, to do work repairing buildings in the City.

Also unknown to the Daligig, the repairs were largely a lie as well.

There was still a real rebellion to be had, and that would require weapons spread out in locations all over the City. It would also require less interference from Stacy. It was easy to make spaces to store said weaponry and to install jamming fields that Engineering had been working on under the guise of repairs.

The building that one small group was working on was unlike anything on Earth, and made completely of a very durable grey stone. The Daligig would pop in on occasion to check on the prisoners, but they never paid much attention to what was actually being done, content to leave if it looked enough like the prisoners were doing as they were told. It was clear the Daligig didn't think highly of their intelligence.

Grif had been tasked with supervising the group of five. The Daligig had made a check only five minutes before, and weren't due for another few hours.

It was the perfect time to investigate the slime that was on one of the walls, about knee-high. For those that were observant, the Ghyyl were rather slimy in appearance, and it was about the perfect height for a Ghyyl's arms.

Sherlock was feeling better now and there was plenty of ship to see. Some on the ship might have been treated to the sight of him walking through the city, popping around corners and staring off at the nearby buildings as if trying to figure out angles of visibility, or paying unusual attention to the mud and the cobblestones in some places. He'd made a point to avoid and ignore most of the people he'd come across while doing it, however. Distractions.

He'd also tried to catch up on his reading--his knowledge base was severely lacking in the face of the new technology here, and the technology that might be found planetside.

But one couldn't spend all day reading and exploring and he and John had months of lost time to make up for. After spending a year and a half of being nearly inseparable, their time apart had taken its toll on both men, especially because of the less-than-favorable conditions it occurred under.

That was why Sherlock had taken time away from his exploration to spend more time with John. This evening, the two of them were parked in one of the Media rooms, one of the larger ones that they'd staked out for themselves. Seated comfortably next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, their feet up on little meat-ottomans, they were sitting there watching movies, all of them chosen by John and most likely selected with the specific purpose of getting Sherlock shouting at the screen.

Specifically things like: "Nooo! You imbecile! He's behind the door--who goes into a room that possibly has a killer hiding in it and doesn't check behind the door?"

If people actually joined them to watch, they weren't going to chase them out.

[ooc: GO!]

Who: Karkat and YOU.
Where: Right outside the Mess Hall
Summary: Romance troubles? Shhhhshoooshhshhshooosh Karkat is here.
Warnings: Language.

( I WANT YOU TO SHOW MEEEE )

Thump.

"God damn it!" Howard hops out of the car he's been practicing parking in and runs behind it to check what he hit. Just one of the cones he set up, thank goodness, and there's no damage to the car, but after four hours of this he's getting beyond frustrated. He sets the cone back up and gets back in the car.

The car itself is, in the kindest form of the word, a junker. Howard considers it a minor miracle that between pouring over the manual and putting pieces of it together with duct tape and dried bubblegum he's managed to get the engine running. Granted, he doubts it can handle more than ten miles an hour, the brake lights and turn signals don't work, and the windshield and rearview window are missing, but he isn't looking for a permanent vehicle here. He just needs something to practice in.

Normal fifteen year-olds take driver's ed, right? And he's always done better learning on his own than listening to lectures. So after reading through a few books on driving and watching some tapes in the Media Library, not to mention having driven around a few times back in the FAYZ, he thinks he's about due to do something this normal. Scratch that - the universe owes it to him. So that's why he found a mostly empty street in the city to set up a little driving obstacle course.

He does, however, wish he could have found an automatic junker to salvage. Clearly the inventor of the stick-shift only created it so he could mess with Howard. And with those poor traffic cones.

Thunk.

[OOC: bendied to before foodplot and survivalist plot.]

There was a lot of cleaning up to do after SHODAN and her robot armies had been defeated. Among the structural damage was parts of the Drunken Dragon Tavern: the store room and everything in it had been utterly destroyed, the pots that had rarely been used on-ship were strewn around the kitchen, and a couple of tables, one bench and a chair, and a portion of the stage needed repairs. The building next door that Kang used for half of his storage and called home had managed to escape relatively unscathed.

He had sustained some damage himself, with a few minor cuts and bruises, and a rough hole slightly larger than an orange missing from the membrane of his right wing. It hadn't healed completely yet, and the bandages didn't hide it very well at all.

He had personal matters to attend to before reconstruction could begin, though. Two draconians had been killed in the pod caverns, two that he'd known personally; they had served under him for over thirty years when he'd been Commander of the First Dragonarmy Engineering Regiment. Unlike the others that had been killed, there was nothing left of them. Vlemess, as a kapak, had melted into a pool of acid, and Urul the baaz had turned to stone, and then dust.

It was customary, because of the nature of draconian deaths, to simply place a headstone along with any personal possessions that could be salvaged. Sakura had helped Kang procure two suitable stones from the wreckage of the Great Wall, and he'd decided to place them in the little herb garden Kali had started before she'd gotten repodded (said garden hadn't been cared for since). It was visible from the tavern, and he felt that it was appropriate to have them near a piece of home.

He knelt down to clear a space on the north side of the garden, digging shallow holes for Urul's belt and one of Vlemess's bracers. He'd gotten lucky in finding their few possessions in the lockers.

[OOC: He invited/mentioned it to anyone that he counts as family or a friend, but it's cool for others to stop by too if they'd like. Threadjacking is also encouraged!]

Once Atom had read the initial comm post, he headed over to the closest place where he thought people would be -- the Vatican, once converted into a fortress against outside attack. It had since been mostly restored to its original state, but some fortifications still remained -- hopefully, some food and supplies, too. He'd heard people had used it as a safe area before, so maybe some of them would head there now. As he touched down within its limits, his rocket boosters kicked off. His footsteps seemed to echo through the tall construction as he walked along the paved stone... but for now, he seemed to be alone, in the midst of dead silence.

Or was he?

"Hello?" he called. "Is anyone there? Does anyone need help?"

[Robutts will be forthcoming 83. I'll bring some Terminators, but if anyone else could NPC some other robots, that'd be great!

P.S. I will be waiting for more people to tag in before I add 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.]]

Deep from the dank, dark bowels of the Media Library... IT CAME! FROM THE CELLULOID!

Five terrible movies guaranteed to give you CHILLS! THRILLS! Or maybe just, I dunno, a vague sense that the universe has wronged you somehow and you want several hours of your life back.

Today, anyone walking into this particular Sensorium would be greeted by the sight of a late 20th century darkened movie theatre, playing a quintuple-feature consisting of old Earth movies that were honestly not very good. At the bottom of the seating area was some dude giving out free popcorn, candy, and drinks.

Howard, Zouichi, Allenby, and Jr. were around, and anyone else was welcome to walk in and join in.

[each of the movies is listed below, just tag in wherever you want. I put a small link in each movie's post so you can have some idea of what the movie is about, although honestly I would say that the movies themselves often do not actually know what they are about. All threads are open unless labeled 'closed'.

P.S. I'M SO SORRY I SHOULD HAVE PUT THIS UP EARLIER]

Welcome, one and all, to the theme park based on the legendary exploits and technological marvelousness of the Transmigration Nine! Inside you will find various historical and educational attractions, as well as endless entertainment!

Current attractions: The famous GLaDOS corn maze! Snot bath spa and salon, now with extra rejuvenating slime! The accurate and exciting Hall of Councilmembers! The Superman memorial!

And for the first time ever…The TAPESTRY! Come forth and see your fortune in this stunning and revelatory exhibit!

The Great Wall of China is, once again, under repair.

Closed: GLaDOS Cakes and Pastries, indefinitely.

[Please do all your own NPCing and make it as ridiculous as possible.]

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.]

In the aftermath of the battle at Lirath, Stacy had been severely damaged. Though she still eventually managed to build up enough power to resume course, she was obviously struggling, her pace far slower than normal. She could barely even manage to directly address those who needed to speak with her, instead allowing the more monotone voice of the Warden to speak up wherever she couldn't.

Several days after the battle, however, she once again stopped course suddenly and without warning, and let out a message throughout the ship.

||Notice to all crew members, Daligig Vessel Horizon is approaching. Archon Yavek is requesting to board so repairs can begin on this vessel. Please report to the Obs deck to recieve Daligig personnel and begin briefing. I repeat, notice to all crew members...||

Those going to the Obs Deck to check out the commotion would see the Horizon just out the observation window. It was massive, nearly half as long as Stacy, and likely had enough room for over a million crew members. The ship was colored a brilliantly bright white, with sleek, smooth lines, making the ships the GIA had that the crew had seen in the battle at Lirath seem like ancient relics.

Not long after the crew had arrived at the Obs Deck, bright, crackling lights began to appear towards the far end of the room as figures began teleporting in.

The first to appear were...not the Daligig. Instead, the first figures to arrive were massive, 9-ft tall reptilian soldiers, each decked in thick armor carrying equally massive battle rifles. At their fore stood one of them wearing lighter armor, carrying a tall metallic staff. He appeared older than the other reptillians, and wore a red sash that seemed to mark him of higher rank than the others. He raised the comm unit on his wrist to speak into it.

"Situation green, Archon. It is safe come over."

At that point, more figures began teleporting over, much smaller than the reptilian soldiers that came before. In fact, they were even somewhat shorter than normal humans, the tallest among them barely six feet tall. These were the Daligig, strange looking and varied in appearance. Each of them had devices on their arms, apparently small but powerful micro computers, each with different colors denoting the rank of the wearer. At their side were numerous tiny beings, each barely 4 feet tall, who almost immediately fanned out, obsessively observing and picking at Stacy's techno-organic structure.

Suddenly, one of the Daligig, wearing a dark blue arm unit, stepped forward with a rather grim, serious expression on his face. This, apparently was Archon Yavek.

"Who is in charge here?" he demanded bluntly.

[ooc: Meant to get this up a week ago, but school got the better of me, so sorry, guys! First thread that I put up will be the main expositionary thread, but feel free to make more threads for you characters to react, talk to each other, or try and talk to the Daligig and their companions. Basic info on the Daligig can be found over here.]

 After dropping off some of the crew at Balisair, it was time for the crew to set course for Lirath. The situation greeting them wasn't the most promising.

The cracked surface of the moon called Lirath was one of its most unmistakeable features. One of the three moons of the planet Kehoe, it had been terraformed and served as a settlement for a hundreds of different species, some humanoid, some not. Despite occasional class struggles, environmental issues, and speciesism blocking their way, the darker parts of Lirath's past were largely left behind, and an era of peace and tolerance had reigned for quite some time. The only problems they'd had recently were with a terrorist group whose cause for their actions had been a mystery, but they weren't tied to any particular species or social group and had been likened to a cult and had largely gone quiet in recent years.

Now the peace on the moon of Lirath had been shattered by the invasion of the Ohm.

The capital city had been destroyed. Now, all that was left of the peoples of Lirath was evacuating from one of its smaller cities, one known as Smyteval. A desert city, existing in a valley in between a rocky range of canyons and mountains, even though it was in the low ground, the natural channels of rock served as bottlenecks for any Ohm attacking from the ground.

GIA squadrons patrolled in space, locked in explosive warfare, protecting the Bleed-gate that had been activated to see the evacuated ships to the refugee world, and a shield created by massively-powerful shield generators extended around the city and up into the atmosphere, creating a shielded tunnel so ships could escape.

Word had come that there was a vital weapon to be deployed on Lirath, one that needed to be destroyed, hence why the Transmigration 9 had been called in. Given the diverse crew, and the ships that were in its hangar, there was at least someone or something on board that could blow the weapon up if it did show.

There was no sign of it yet. Right now, there was just chaos, streams of evacuees boarding ships, armies of Ohm engaged with GIA soldiers outside the shields, and forcefields that everyone hoped would hold out just a little bit longer.

The crew would be following Leon's orders but finding themselves fighting side-by-side with GIA platoons, full of various species that were currently all getting their asses kicked severely.

[ooc: STAGE 1 is now open! Please do not tage STAGE 2 until it's announced as open as well.]

[ooc: STAGE 2 is now open!]

He hadn't done much laying around as a teenager. He'd always been too busy, one social event to another.

After the Yeerks...well, Temrash had less love for being lazy than Iniss did, but neither of them were really set on protracted periods of inactivity. And there was always something Sharing related, or feeding related, or just...something. Rank play had been a major time suck in his youth, and needing to be somewhere every three days made planning anything else a bit of a suck.

He'd flopped down on the hill next to the garden he had spent so much time losing time in, one hand gripping Bobby's leash to keep the dog from running off, but eyes closed and body relaxed.

Too much stuff was happening, lately. He wasn't used to keeping up with it anymore. Jake was back and Sam was dating Xander and Dean and Kaylee had broken up. He wasn't even sure how to handle half of that, much less all of it at once.

No wonder the garden looked so well tended, the neat rows gave him something to do, something to think about, something that made perfect sense because plants needed like...two things, water and weeding, and they weren't much on demanding an emotional investment beyond that.

Bobby shifted, licking his hand and resting his head on his shoulder, watching the chickens and their chicks poke around nearby.

Why couldn't life just be this simple?

Grif was back, and he was back with a vengeance.

Or at least, he was lounging on the Obs Deck. It was kind of difficult to pick up the vengeance with which he was doing this, but he was almost making a point out of it.

Grif was on a couch, chilling, and any ceiling voices that had a problem with that could go...

go...

go do something that was insulting to ceiling voice computers with psychological problems, anyway.

Congrats, crew, one (or the only) of your (least?) favorite pieces of orange-armored furniture has returned from the test chambers. Rejoice! (Or not.)

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 tall man in green armor 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.]

Grif had better uses for the media center than seeking knowledge or bettering himself.

Forget books, or whatever Stacy had. (He didn't know, did anyone expect him to read anything voluntarily?) There were movies here, and music, but most importantly there were games.

Grif had been working slowly through Stacy's vast transdimensional video game library. He didn't know why they were considered cultural works worthy of preservation. Really? He didn't care. All he knew was they gave him something to do.

Right at that moment, the something was blasting alien ships down from behind the hard-light controls of a simulated fighter.

"Yeah, eat that!" he yelled, reducing three of them to nothing more than scattered pixels against the starry backdrop with one well-placed shot.

For once, he wasn't thinking about any of the multitude of things he hated about this ship. He was actually enjoying himself.

Stacy was never truly silent. There was the slightly audible hum of the systems, and the others in the Sensorium, to create a rather pleasing sound within the audible range of most species. But Cortana wasn't adding to that; rather she was sitting on her own created boulder, deep in thought. She'd learned quite a bit from Chief's video logs, and more still from the Library once he'd uploaded her back into Stacy's systems. It was a lot of data to process, and so she'd adopted the thinking pose some humans used. Legs pulled up to her chest, and her head resting on her knees. She looked, and felt, almost normal.

...well, normal as an AI passing as a human could get. Oh, the plant suit she'd chosen to appear to wear went a long way to making her blend in compared to her normal holographic form, but the violet tinted blue hair and bright blue eyes didn't help her to blend in. And she honestly didn't know why she'd chosen those. Nostalgia, perhaps? No, she could return to her simple AI form at any time she wanted. And it wasn't as if Stacy didn't carry some different looking people, so it wasn't to stand out. Maybe it was becuase it just felt right to look this way. A mix between a human and the AI she was.

But it didn't really matter. Even with all her processing power, sorting all the information she had taken in over the past few days would still take some time, and that time would be much better spent on figuring out just what the hell had happened then moping about why she had chosen to take this form.