The Temple of Small Gods was a sizable gathering place -- but more importantly, it was in one of the dead spots on the ship, into which Stacy was apparently unable to spy. It was there that Tarrant waited to address the new crew members.

[This is a briefing meeting for new crew to find out what's goin' on on the ship. Anyone can make subthreads if they want; Tarrant and Ildraniath will be explaining some Rebelliony things. Otherwise feel free to mingle, ask questions, etc etc.]

The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their numbers.

Several people are set up near the doors to provide the new people with omnicomms and comm rings. They are also told they must read information about their current situation and a survival guide with their new omnicomm. New crewmates might see a tall dragonish guy with wings (but don't call him that), a large afro attached to a smaller girl, and talking ponies 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. But thankfully this time, there's a system that was set up to aid the new crew members with a few more experienced ones.

[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. Big brother/sister, there will be a thread for you as well!]

If they were going to rebel (well, no longer a matter of if; a matter of when), Ildraniath knew that they were going to need more firepower than the average crew member tended to carry on their person. She, of course, had no need of further firepower. Her armor and her mind would serve her well enough. For many of the others, of course, they would need something more. Which was why she was paying a visit to the armory. In theory, Stacy might give her away. However, following that interesting performance at the punishment meeting, Ildraniath had reason to believe that Stacy wasn't about to give the crew away.

A gamble, of course, but Ildraniath was willing to risk it. So, the Eldar was perusing the armory. She tapped a button on her omnicomm and called up a blank document. She was going to need a list. And people to cart it all off later, but for now:

"Stacy. A list of all available small-arms and protable heavy weapons. Powered armor. Ammunition counts. And their effectiveness against heavily armored opponents."

|| Acknowledged, Ildraniath. ||

She bent over the control panel as the lists began to scroll past.

If she was going to do this, she was going to do it properly.

Tarrant stepped into what appeared to be a room of endless white with a single circular artifact in its center and wondered who had chosen this particular setting. Perhaps someone who enjoyed having their retinas seared for hours at a time. The light was irritation itself, but at least it was also illusory.

The Tapestry itself was not illusory... but it didn't exactly look like a tapestry, either. So this device was to be their guide, was it?

He reached out to touch the fae in the room, invisible violet filaments that (for him, anyway), provided at least some respite from the relentless, mundane white. Its tendrils ran heedlessly throughout the room -- naturally attracted to living warmth, though there was currently none in the vicinity. He'd wait until Ildraniath arrived for any real analysis, of course, but for now he reached out experimentally, contacting the surface of the Tapestry with a basic Knowing. What was its purpose? What was it designed for? Was it alive?

Unless it was well-shielded, the fae would grant him his answers.

Ildraniath had found a small park that was out of the way of most of the main streets. It was quiet, shaded. Perfect for a little get together. If people had read her message on the comms, they ought to show up. And if they didn't, she would figure out another way to proceed. Even if she had only a handful of people she could rely on, she would press on. Better than inactivity and waiting for results that never came. She knew patience, but this? Was simply waiting for the sake of waiting.

She folded her hands into the sleeves of her robes and waited, stone still. Once they arrived, she'd have a few words to say to everyone. And then they could begin bandying ideas and organizing.

Zouichi slipped past the human port workers, nodding politely in response to their apologies. A planet that forbade the Daligig from approaching it... how interesting. Clearly, their hosts' reach wasn't as all-encompassing as they liked to let on. There were things to do aboard the ship as well, but for now perhaps it was time to do some long-awaited searching for supplies.

Food, seeds, gadgets... and weapons. Afterward, perhaps he'd find a crew member or two to have a discreet chat with. It was now or never, now that they were finally (temporarily) out from under the ship's constant monitoring. He sent out a quick message on his Omnicomm, then made his way along a row of storefronts.

Weapons first, he decided. Then food.

The recent discussion on the comms had reignited Jaime's boundless curiosity and a desire to learn more about the ship that he and so many others found themselves riding across the multiverse. And what better way to find out more about the ship than to look at the hallowed command deck? There had to be something useful here, right?

Jaime seated himself at one of the various stations and peered intently at the panel. The chirruping buzz of Khaji's voice vibrated against the back of his mind.

Suggestio|\|: Frie|\|d Jaime: press butto|\|s.

"Yeah. Right. Good idea. Let's just push buttons on the bridge of the super powerful meatship." Despite his sarcastic rejoinder, the young man reached out and slowly pressed a switch.

Nothing happened.

"Not that one, then." He pressed another. Toggled a switch. This might go on for a while.

As Zouichi had mentioned earlier, the cherry trees behind the Inn had begun, as of the past few days, to bear fruit. Whatever oddity of the 'seasons' here had encouraged them to bloom before, apparently it had convinced them that now was prime cherry season.

He reached up into the branches of one of the trees, plucking the ripened fruit and leaving the rest for later. He'd promised some to Alendian, of course, but truth be told, he was setting aside the sweetest, choicest fruits for someone else. A larger proportion of fruit to pit, not too soft or too firm, with the most attractive colors...

It was normally a fairly mindless task, but he was engrossed enough in picking and sorting today that he might be caught unawares.

[The thread with Alendian and Ildraniath is closed, otherwise the post is open]

The two women had waited until a good number of people had gathered in the sensorium next to where the Tapestry was kept. Sakura glanced toward Howard, wanting a visual reassurance that he was there with a recording device. He was someone she could count on for the paranoid sensibilities that she sometimes put aside in favor of other practicalities. With everyone gathered, they turned toward each other, and the sensorium came alive.
( Such a sight as we have seen... )... leaving everyone standing in the sensorium's blank interface as the mental replay shut down.

[ ooc: Feel free to make your own threads and discuss as your characters are want to do! You are absolutely not required to respond to either Barbara or Sakura's question threads. That is optional! ]

Zouichi stood waiting by the entrance of a cavern of some sort, one of the newly discovered areas on the ship. His presence there was unobtrusive and therefore easy to miss. In fact, one might have thought he was simply finishing a patrol or exploring; he certainly did enough of both under ordinary circumstances. But not quite. Not today.

Today he was clad in his customary black armor, but he was also carrying a small package tucked under one arm. And upon closer inspection, he looked... well, a little embarrassed.

Strangely enough, even after the events of the past few days, Zouichi had not developed an aversion to the ocean. Or axes! Or giant squid! It helped that he, unlike some of the other crew, hadn't been in imminent danger of drowning. He was, however, busying himself with preparing some of the food they'd bought on shore leave, as well as supplies salvaged from the Deepstar 7. No sense letting it go to waste, right?

He'd started work in the early morning, and gotten so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't quite notice that he was making more than was absolutely necessary. What? Cooking was relaxing. And anyway, he thought as he waited to pull a piece of battered shrimp out of its cooking oil, someone would probably eat it all. For the people living in the inn, he was careful to set aside boxes of prepared food. But there was an increasing amount left over...

Stop by, enjoy your ridiculously overprepared lunch. Or just a simple one, if you're an acquaintance. The front door's open!

They'd all had their fun, now the time had come to attend to business.

Having sent out word about it, the Council gathered, as was its wont, to conduct matters, make announcements, take inquiries, and generally govern things and so forth. All crew members were invited to attend, either to watch or to raise questions as they saw fit.

This meeting was now in session.

The rest of the crew assembled on the Observation Deck to meet the latest editions to their numbers. After the battle with SHODAN the place looks a little worst for wear, but the crew and even Stacy are trying to be in good spirits. After the revelation that their worlds are gone, and the little stunt in trying to kill off the people in the pods, many 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), a large afro attached to a smaller girl, and talking ponies 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. But thankfully this time, there's a system that was set up to aid the new crew members with a few more experienced ones.

[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. Big brother/sister, there will be a thread for you as well!]

It's probably a solid two weeks before Christmas is due, assuming that their Thanksgiving dinner was on schedule which, given the nature of the ship, it presumably wasn't. But the robot attack was terrifying and disheartening and exhausting, and Howard wants a holiday, so according to him, it's Christmas. A nice, relaxing break from things trying to kill them.

Aside from this strand of Christmas lights doing its damnedest to strangle him, that is. Howard's managed to get it around his neck, and if it weren't for the fact that finding light strands is hard enough on Stacy, would be cutting it off with scissors.

He's still a bit beat-up, bandages around his head and his knees and one looping around his torso, under his shirt, but thanks to the healers and medical technology on Stacy he's not in much pain. His foot being in a brace is the worst of it.

He's managed to salvage an old plastic tree from a run-down building. A few packets of hot cocoa from the Warehouse sit on the table. Flossy Raptor is downstairs and dressed in a Santa hat and bizarrely, a feather boa in a shade of green too lime-ish to be Christmassy. A clunky-looking dog-sized gift for Zouichi is by the couch, wrapped in tin foil and newsprint, and another is on the table for Karis, although it's unwrapped. No one else quite makes Howard's list this year.

He pulls his way out of the tangle of lights. Christmas numero dos sans his family. Christmas numero uno on Stacy. He finds he's less okay with the former than he was last year, but more okay with the latter than he'd presumed.

Anyone who walks into the kitchen of the Susono Inn will be greeted by the rare and unusual sound of Howard humming. Go Tell It On the Mountain, actually. He even sings the section of the first verse that he vaguely remembers under his breath.

"Go tell it on the mountain, up over the hills and everywhere, go tell it on the mountain, tell them something, I don't care."

The dreamworld. The personal world that touches both the person's inner soul and memories of times gone past. the strange, the bizarre, the cruel, the comedy, it has a range of colors and emotions. Usually, very personal. Even the mind doesn't remember all of them.

But what if that soul is now shared with another? A windowed view into the deepest part of the body that possibly neither of them ever wanted to share, as one whose body they are currently drifts into sleep and gets carried off by nightfall, the other lives to see the dreams, one by one, even the ones the host body doesn't remember by morning.

How will this affect each other? Or will it just be a problem or things they'd rather forget?

[OOC - This is completely optional, and was a fun little idea that I figured if anyone else wanted to join in and have their characters see each others dreams or talk to them inside, are welcome too. Enjoy ruining each other's images. Again, if you don't want to do it, don't worry, it's all good. It's a good way of sharing innermost secrets and old memories. Ahhh, making out characters suffer for fun and profit.]

Zouichi assumed that he'd see a few acquaintances while he and Ildraniath set off on their investigation into the City. Maybe even a few people who'd been mentally displaced, like he had, and were now trying to negotiate having two minds currently crammed into a body used to taking orders from only one.

What he was not expecting was to run into Alendian on the way there. He wasn't sure she monitored the comm channels... but perhaps her unique senses would tell her something was a little off today, anyway. He almost called out to say hello, but restrained himself. It was Ildraniath's body, after all, and not his own.

...what was Alendian doing here, anyway? He thought she'd be training in the Sensoriums.

Following you awakening and talking with a few of the members through the communication systems by way of the three kind people who had awakened her, Nezaitben realized how the crew was stuck in a terrible mess.

So many of them felt sad and depressed. Considering the entire ship, it wasn't too hard to see why. The next day, there had been an unusual amount of magical flowers spreading all over the ship. Nothing that damaged the controls (she might be naive in the way humanoids were, but Nezaitben was no fool either) but they were found in the most unexpected of places. Her own awakening area was now blooming in a flower paradise, the wooden palace standing proudly on top, the smell and pink cherry blossom strong enough to carry through most of the central city area where most people resided.

Yet the ship was still sad.

This would not do.

That night, or what passed as a night for in the ship, Nezaitben took to the 'sky', letting pieces of her own essence fall on top of the sleeping populace, or those that were not sleeping finding themselves feeling the need too. Enveloping the ship into a peaceful slumber, she searched their dreams. The powers granted to her by the pantheon of gods in her homeworld allowed Nezaitben to weave a series of dreamcatchers giving her the ability to see those whose hearts connected true.

These noble souls would do. Lead by example had always been her philosophy. She would give them a great gift - communication with each other in a single body, allowing them to share everything together. Their two soulcatchers were woven together that night into a single, grand ones, hanging in the garden's trees.

A few minutes later, the empty husks of the bodies that weren't being used showed up at her palace. With a smile, she welcomed them like her own children and began to dress them for their task.

That morning, some of the crewmen would wake up to a strange surprise...and that would just be the beginning of a long, strange misunderstanding and young gods trying too much to please everyone.

[OOC - Just a few rules. Keep in mind the listed rules. You can all start your own threads of waking up in the bodies of others. If you feel like leaving a 2nd post for other people to intact with them, start a reply to your own first post with OPEN header. That way everyone else will know where to post and if you don't feel like having an open interaction post right away, you won't have to!

There will also be another post for all the soulless characters to go around spreading joy and love, so look forward to that too!]

Ildraniath didn't spend all of her time plotting. She spent quite a lot of time brooding, as well. Or simply thinking about the situation she'd been thrust into. For someone who's entire goal and purpose in life was to safely read the future and guide her people through it, stumbling blind through the void was a challenge, to say the least. And then there were her plans to do wit hthe dalgig. She was still watching them, still thinking, still internalizing it all while she considered and waited and wondered.

But she needed something else to do, of course. So she went walking through the empty corridors and miles of passageways that stretched through Stacy. Occasionally she stopped in at places that seemed of interest. Today, she happened to be in the hangar. The sheer variety of war machines was rather overwhelming, but she wandered among the craft with a curious eye nonetheless. It never hurt to see what was down here, after all.

She was about to turn around and find another way of distracting herself when she spotted a familiar, curved shape and after a moment of staring (just to make sure she wasn't seeing things), she walked over to the elegantly curved and sleek craft that sat in one corner, unused and unnoticed.

An Eldar jetbike. Here.

Well, she supposed she'd never been down here to check. She ran her hand over the hull a slight smile tugging at her lips. She'd ridden one, a long time ago in another life. How curious.

Zouichi had taken a few wounds during the mission, but nothing that he would deem serious enough to require medical treatment. He'd already begun to heal, and he estimated that by the time tomorrow rolled around, he'd once again be at full strength. This was not, of course, true of everyone who had fought on that moon -- those who had lost their lives, for instance.

But for him, intense combat was the norm. There was no sense dwelling on loss of life or regretting the past, and there were no nightmares about the dead or dying. There was only the future, and the battles to be found there.

So it was back to business as usual: maintenance on the HDC, clearing stray leaves off the front steps and caring for the flowers... and teaching his pet parrot some commands. Today, however, Alan seemed more intent on rolling onto his back and demanding to be picked up. So Zouichi settled back in the shade of a nearby tree instead, playing with the bird and occasionally wondering where he'd picked up all these new phrases that sounded suspiciously like Lash.

Maybe if Howard showed up, they could look for odds and ends in the City.

 After the near-disaster the mission had turned out to be, Ildraniath needed time to think. She needed to unwind - everyone needed that, even Eldar. She had entered the media library and to her surprise, had found a large collection of Eldar music. Some of the more famous works ever created were there - haunting, ethereal, beautiful music that the mon-keigh could never hope to match in their lifetimes. Mozart, Bach, Weber? Children bashing at the keyboard in comparison to this.

Well, at least those were her thoughts on it. 

She had settled into one of the seats in one of the media rooms and despite the urge to curl up, she did not. Instead, she sat straight, arms and legs folded, eyes closed as she listened and remembered her real home, now gone. Possibly never to return. She let the music wash over her and through her (and remembered, vaguely, a time when she had aspired to create such beauty with her own hands and mind). She let out the frustrations and the exhaustion.

For now, she could relax.