[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | 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... )

New Canton training grounds. It was a decent camp, full of find memories of Independent soldiers going through basic training as the War for Independence kicked off. Gwen had spent a good deal of time stomping and marching over every inch of the camp from the mountains off in the distance to along the river bank to the east of the barracks. The place she had picked for the testing of explosives was where her cavalry unit had tested our their tanks, their skiffs, their mortars, and pretty much everything they had ever used to go boom with. It gave the red head a giddy feeling as she wheeled the red sorrel horse around for another run at the targets she had asked Stacy to supply at the ends. A small sprint for the animal, yes, but the challenge was getting the required number of shots off in the target zone before hitting a certain mark.

Gwen was really going to have to do this more often.

Wheeling the horse back around she urged the mare forward bringing up her g-36 rifle to her shoulder popping off two rounds as she hit the first mark. Three more as the second passed, and a final try as the horse came within distance of the last. Carefully the red head pulled back on the reins while the horse chomped at the bit in her mouth, encouraging her to move over to the target. That was when Gwen scowled- shy on the last shot of hitting inside the zone. The others were sound enough for a kill shot, but that last one? She was going to have to try it again. Giving her chrono a glance she figured there was enough time for one more round before Kyle or Tycho were to show up. With a hoot and a hollar the red head wheeled the horse back around grinning like a fool. Yep- one more round.

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 green-skinned alien 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.]

It was her fourth hour and near thirtieth reset so far.

St. Albans was by far the coldest planet in the 'verse that the red headed woman standing in the middle of a snow covered forest belonged to. The snow never seemed to stop falling leaving drifts sometimes up to ten feet in depth that a person or a vehicle could easily get trapped in. Even if it had been a year since Gwendolyn had been there she could remember the details of picking the spots out, how the snow seemed to lay as well as the crunch of snow under boot. She had asked Stacy to let her be clothed how she had been during the winder campaign on the planet much to her protests. The uniform she wore was tattered and had seen better days. Strips of clothing wrapped around already numb fingers as the cold winder wind swept its way through the barren limbs above her head.

It was night on the St. Albans that Stacy had recreated perfectly for her. Well below freezing and cold enough to zap the energy out of any thing that cared show its head. That had been her squadron, that particular night, on a recon mission that had gone horribly wrong. It was still a mystery to the lieutenant just how the man had managed to hand them over so easily to the enemy. How hadn't they seen it before? Were there warning signs while they were there? Ever since the nightmares the questions had been gnawing away at the back of her mind leaving numbness much like the simulated cold that the planet had to offer. Gwen closed her eyes, her helmeted head turned up to feel the to soft flakes if snow against her face. Any other time she would have stopped to enjoy the beauty that the white flakes had to offer. Now, though, was a different matter. She had a mystery to solve with the only way to stop her the ship herself or another crew member.

It was going to be like the much needed vacation stuck on a ship with people from all forms of live in the middle of the Black. What better way to take a quick break than to go to the sensoriums and ask Stacy for the most tropical place that she could think of that was crew friendly? It was perfect. That was all Gwen could say as she stretched out on her beach chair soaking up fake sun resting on the fake sand as the fake crystal blue water lapped at the empty beach.

Okay sure none of it was real but it was as close as the red head could get and she was going to enjoy every single minute of it. The fact that there was plenty of room for others to come and enjoy it was just what she possibly thought everyone needed. So Gwen had sent out a text over the waves for people to come on up and bring their sunscreen for the fun that could be had. There was a wetbar not far up nestled under the large palm trees and tropical plants with their own virtual bar tender, heck there was even a place to rent a surfboard or boogieboard if no one was daring enough to test the waves. Thankfully she had asked Stacy to leave the sharks out. No one wanted to reenact the movie Jaws while they were there.. she hoped. Even an empty volleyball court was just down the way waiting on someone to take up a game or three.

Everything was... perfect.

With a pleased little smile Gwen settled back against her chair only adjusting the large sunglasses once. Yep. This was the life.

Out of all the locations on the ship, the sensoriums were quite possibly one of Gwen's favorite locations. While the hanger bay and vehicle garage were nice it was the only spot that could take a person away from the harsh realities of what was going on around them be it from nightmares to just awakening on the ship. Plus the fact that the woman had all but dragged a certain Colonel along behind her after he had dragged her to medical seemed to help it being a safe haven. While most people could deal with doctors and all the shiny things they used, Gwen was of the sort that had a moment of flail at the simple mention of medical. Thank her time as a POW for that one which meant there was only a slight chance that, eventually, the woman would forgive Tycho for it. Slim, slim chance to a small degree.

With her hands shoved deep in to the pockets of her brown coat she gave the older man a little frown of a pout once inside of the empty room. "You are so incorrigible you know. That was th' most creepyfinin' thing I've been through in my entire life. Next time you get t' be the guinea pig." Of course a smile was soon creeping back across the red head's face before she took back to walking the space around them. "So where to first? Sunny beaches of some distant planet? Floatin' down a river on a couple old tire tubes?"

There had been a promise of showing off homeworlds, well, at least in Tycho's 'verse that was. She didn't mind showing him Verbena if he wanted to see something from her 'verse or even show him somewhere else. Not a single world where she came from was alike having been built from scratch. "And no more visits t' any medical bays in here mind. Might have t' teach you thing or two about a good old fashioned whoopin'."

It's been an intense half a day for Tycho, what with arriving here, learning about the destruction of his universe, learning about the existence of other universes, and the fact that he's been dumped in the middle of a whole new war to fight. After talking to Captain Kirk, he'd spent a while reading as much as he could find on the omnicoms about the Ohm and the ship and the entire situation. He'd also messaged his new squadron, the thing he suspects will take up most of his time on this ship. What he's learned so far tells him ... it's going to be a challenge.

Now though... he could really use something familiar, something from home before his head starts to spin like an x-wing with the stabilizers blown. Stacy's hanger is certainly like no hangar he's ever been in before. The air is humid, and his boots echo strangely on the organic floor. It's also large, maybe almost as large as the main hanger on the Lusankya, filled with all kinds of craft he's never seen before, which compounds the feeling of strangeness. Tycho isn't some outer rim dweller- he's been around the galaxy a few times, seen plenty of things, and the unfamiliarity of almost everything here compounds the feeling of how far he is from home. Still though, his heart can't help but begin to soar as he takes in the sight of near two dozen x-wings parked together near one of the edges.

Tycho strides quickly up to them, noting the familiar shape of Wedge's X-Wing, kill decals bracketed by the two Death Stars, before his eyes alight on his own. He traces his fingers up the side, instantly feeling more centered, more at peace for the feel of the durasteel under his fingertips. He's going to be okay. As long as he has his X-wing and his squadron, everything will be fine.

His R5 chirps in greeting, and Tycho pulls a datapad out of one of his flightsuit's pockets. He might as well use his time well and start running some preliminary diagnostics while he waits for Wedge to arrive.

"Yep," he responds in answer to the astromech's query as the translation scrolls across the screen. "We're far from home buddy." He comfortingly pats the X-Wings side. "We still got our jobs to do though, so let's get started."

Nightmare becomes reality....

_{[roster: Leader - Garrus, Gwen MacKenzie, Jack Spicer, Jokimru, Paco, Chris Ramirez]}

Gunshot wounds and scars were nothing to Mal Reynolds. Years of being involved in wars had shown him countless people who'd been injured or killed, himself included. Except he'd never died, even though the times he'd gotten hurt were too numerous to count.

But this latest addition to his collection of scars felt different, and he didn't like the way it made him feel. There was nothing in the verse that could explain how an injury in a dream could still be there when he woke up. The ridiculousness of the whole thing nagged at Mal, to the point that he couldn't sleep for thinking about it.

So that was why he was awake well past midnight, walking along the same hall where he'd been shot. There was nothing left there to suggest that anything had happened; no blood stains on the floor or the walls, and definitely no sign of a battlefield or Tracey, who he knew to be dead. Except he'd definitely been there in that dream, so what did that mean? Was he a ghost?

Mal laughed sardonically. Ghosts didn't exist. But still, there was no explanation for what happened, and that, above everything else, made Mal very unhappy and very frustrated.

He kept walking, back and forth, down that long stretch of a hallway, ignoring the exhaustion that was beginning to creep up on him. Even though there was nothing to see, Mal was determined to keep walking until he either found out what was going on, or until he collapsed from sheer stubbornness and the need to do something besides sit around and ask pointless questions.

The crew will see them slinking off, disappearing around hallways--shifting shadow shapes and the backs of heads ducking around corners. They're always people they think they know. Dead loved ones, perhaps, or loved ones they're not sure are dead or alive. They lead crew members into dangerous places, sudden drops, parts of Stacy where things can go wrong.

And they do go wrong. Floors drop out. Ducts become damaged somehow, invisibly, and suddenly spew hot steam. Around the children, items slam into walls--poltergeist activity.

Whether these are really those lost souls, or just illusions, is hard to tell. Either way, those that are part-ghost or have supernatural powers will have a helluva workout. The upside is the presence of the ghosts might disrupt the Waking Dreams to allow people to escape them more easily.

Which is good because the dreams will start to cause injuries now. Real ones.

And refusing to go to sleep doesn't save you when the dreams can happen while you're awake.

[ooc: Waking dreams will continue--and start causing injuries. Furthermore, ghostly apparitions will start to cause poltergeist activity and lead the crew into danger. Start to raise the alarm, meatship. It's starting.]

Deep within the hanger there was one happy woman. Gwen hadn't been expecting in her exploring of the ship to find any sort of craft that she was familiar with let alone having been in trained in using. Sure the hovercraft skiff was Alliance made and catered but, eh, those were just the minor details. The military craft ranged in the medium size able to see up to six people max. Eight if you were pushing it and knew exactly how to get people crammed in there like a puzzle. Shi knew from experience just how to do that though she was hoping while on Stacy she'd never have to do it again.

Music blared from somewhere close to her. Old Earth-that-was rock songs dating back to the early 2000s. It was decent enough music- Beastie Boys, Black Eyed Peas, The Fray, Kings of Leon. Anything that she had been able to find within the database that had good work beats to it. Already the red head was elbow deep in grease as well as grime trying to put the few modifications on the one Alliance Medium class Skiff that she had set her eyes on. It was going to need a serious paint job to get the two patches off the sides that had been painted on. Not a big deal but the sooner they were off the better.

Carefully the Lieutenant was balanced barely hanging off one of the larger guns with her right leg hooked around it and her left waving about in the air. One of the side hatches was popped open with her a little more than waist deep inside tugging at cords and various technical panels inside. Factory direct items were never modified till after they were in use and all their bugs were found. Gwen knew them. Gwen was going to fix them. It was good to pass the time. That was until she found herself having more than a little trouble trying to get out of the side panel.

After squirming around a little the woman let out a loud squeak suddenly wishing she hadn't turned up the music so loud. "Uh.. hello? Anyone? .....help?"

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!]

Gwen hadn't slept much at all since waking up on the ship. Two days straight was enough, or Stacy had told her, though the red head could have kept right on sleeping if the ship hadn't kept waking her. Not that it made much of a difference now that she kept herself from trying to sleep much at all. Nightmares still came regardless of when she closed her eyes. The previous nights hadn't been the best of the worst either- images of being stuck in the Alliance prisoner of war camp filtered in mixed with battles that would have been fit for a horror movie. So packing up her pistol belt the woman made her way up to the observation deck knowing the tables were big enough for what she had in mind.

Which was why the Browncoat had one fully assembled pistol sitting to her left, her KA-Bar beside of it, and one pistol in front of her disassembled down to the very last spring and screw. It had been a while since she had cleaned the things let alone taken them entirely apart and checking every little piece for signs of rust. Maybe she was being a little to over the top with the cleaning and how detailed oriented she was being but, well, someone had to be right?

Squinting down at the piece in her hand the woman didn't even seem to notice she even had her tongue sticking out as she scrubbed away at the piece with an oiled rag. By the time she finished with the pistol, it was probably going to be the cleanest if not the shiniest weapon on the ship.

Verbena had always been described as a lush, thick environment with trees covering the mountain sides and rivers twisting through the peaceful valleys that made up the man-made planet. Even if she was just part of the fourth generation to be born on the planet, every square inch of it was rooted deep in Gwendolyn's system. She had lived and breathed running the deer trails chasing after her brothers or swimming in the creeks on the family farm. Maybe it was the reason that she picked it when she got to the Sensoriums- something familiar after the first few days of being on the living ship.

It was a warm summer day on the grounds. Nothing was there that should have been, the horses, the cattle, people milling about working or even her family enjoying tea on the back porch of the plantation style home. All the windows were up and the front door was open allowing the music to spill outward for anyone that wished to investigate. The house was of a simple design and almost out of a picture book of the Old South back on Earth-that-was. It was in the library that the red headed Browncoat was located standing in the middle of the empty room surrounded by history that no one else aside from her probably would care about again. Her bow danced across the strings drawing the notes out from what could easily be a happy tune to something more quieter or sadder depending on the temperament of the listener. The clothing of choice? Not her plantsuit or what bits of uniform that she had, but her dress uniform with rank bars in red on the long coat sleeves.

So lost in the music was she that she probably wouldn't have heard anyone approach if they wanted. Musicians or curious folk alike were welcome, she was in a seemingly good mood enough to talk about what the place was if anyone wanted to.

[ooc: It looks like LJ isn't let me link to the youtube vid of the song she's playing, but it's the Ashoken Farewell.]

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.]

There was little in the way to do for the time being, having been a new arrival on the ship and people away on some mission or another. It was as good a time as any to get settled in to the new life that was going to he handed to them on the ship. Not that red head was particularly pleased with the predicament that she found herself in with the whole thing of her universe being destroyed by this Ohm that no one really seemed to know about. That didn't settle well in the pit of her stomach at all. How were they supposed to fight a force that could destroy everything without knowing strengths and weaknesses? Kenzi seriously hopped that the command staff knew what the ruttin' heck they were doing.

After a few hours of exploring the ship she found herself in the observation deck again. Watching the stars above them had been fascinating at first with the different formations she hadn't seen before on any of the planets the Browncoats fought on or when she was in the POW camp. Which was probably why not thirty minutes in to being there that Gwen had taken the time to find a quiet spot feeling the need to stop being antsy. So she had started in to the motions they had taught them all in basic first. Her motions were slow, controlled, and fluid shifting from one style to the next depending on the mood as it struck her.

This? Was calming and relaxing. Dealing with the issue of worlds going explodie and not getting back to her troops? Not so calming and relaxing.

[NOTE: This takes place DURING the holiday plot. If your character is involved in that, then they're still on the surface and not on the ship at this time.]

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.

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 mission is still going on, so if your character is offship, they won't be around for this.]

[ooc: Newbie Helpers List | 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... )