Stacy's voice speaks over the whole of the ship. What she has to say has become very familiar over the the podlings have spent here.

||Pod Release Protocols Initiating,|| she says. ||Please proceed to the Observation Deck to meet your new crew mates.||

Those crew members that don't head to the Obs Deck on their own are hurried there via gentle but insistent tentacles. A few people stop by Engineering to help bring and pass out omnicoms and comm rings to the new crew members as well.

[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.]

Back home, Terry McGinnis had had the reputation of being that guy that was never around. And when he was around, he was usually only half-awake, if even that. It mostly came from being Batman - spending most of the night patrolling left the young man with little time to sleep besides in class. And after school, he'd have to leave for 'work' to maintain his cover of being Bruce Wayne's assistant. Back home, he just wasn't ever around.

Things weren't much different on the ship. While he didn't have to patrol, didn't have to make sure the old man took his meds and Ace got walked, he still tried to keep himself busy. He wanted to stay alert and focuses, and not let himself get rusty on his Batman training. So he'd spent a lot of time in the Sensoriums working out and running through simulated fights, staying away from most everyone else. He'd never admit it, but he was pretty much turning into the old man. Too focused on Batman, not focused enough on having a life.

But he'd ventured out of the Sensorium today... if only to find himself in the media library, researching computer hacking and detective skills. The two things he relied on Max and Bruce for, but couldn't any more.

Or, at least that's what he'd planned to do. He'd really fallen asleep at a desk, a media tablet under his arm. And he seemed to be snoring ever so slightly.

Anyone up to prodding the big lug and reminding him libraries are supposed to be quite places?

For the most part, Vivio was pretty unimpressed with how disorganized things were in the Media Library. It seemed that many who were in here for one reason or another was more prone to either toss away everything or put them back where they didn't belong. Did they really treat their libraries back home like this?

Shaking her head, Vivio began her work, making sure things were straightened up in the place. No one asked her to, she volunteered herself to do so. Was she expecting something for this? Of course not - after what she went through, she just wanted to do something relaxing. And if reorganizing the library was that, then so be it.

As the little girl did her work, her device Sacred Heart followed suit, trying its best to help Vivio out in anyway it can.

"...I wonder if this place has a librarian..." Vivio said to herself. "...I wonder if they'll let me if they don't."

"I knew you were lying! There never was any cake!!" A highly annoyed female's voice could be faintly heard before a secret panel slid open and a not very pleased looking, dark haired woman stumbled out into the hallway almost as though she'd been pushed.

Regaining her composure, Temperance Brennan pushed her hair out of her face and offered the space behind the doorway a glare. "Don't get mad at me because I didn't fall for your lies of free cake!" Though the only answer she got was for the secret panel to slide shut again.

She sighed loudly and shook her head. How the AI had managed to even get her in that hidden area was beyond her comprehension. She'd always known that AI lied about things, put people in awkward positions - i.e. the mistletoe incident - and so she should have known better. Though GLaDoS had been in for a complete shock when Temperance had flat out refused to participate in her version of a rat race. No amount of offers of free cake had swayed the stubborn scientist.

"Exasperating moronic machine," Tempe muttered to herself. Almost as soon as the words were uttered the secret panel slid open again. This time a pair of shoes were launched out, right at Tempe's head. "OW! HEY" Tempe cried, lifting her hands to press against her now throbbing forehead.

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 - Roxie, Indiana Jones, Jason Todd, Lafiel, Sheeana, Shadow the Hedgehog]

Life seemed to enjoy doing this to Tony Stark. Get him settled, if not content then at least accustomed, and then turn everything on its head.
It hadn't taken long to find the Iron Man armour- but once he had it in his hands, it was hard to remember why he'd gone looking for it.

No, this time Tony was quite content to sit on the sidelines and let someone else try their hand at guiding the course of events, futurist or not. Let someone else see if they could do better. The ship was obviously entirely capable of running herself, with those pulled out of podsleep there for little more than lawn-trimming duty. What the hell was the point of having a crew if they weren't going to be allowed to do anything useful?
And so here he was, back at square one. With a hell of a lot more to give than things that exploded and maimed, frustrated that all he would ever be remembered for, even here, were his mistakes- but this time he just didn't have the will to try again.

He'd been planning to set up some kind of workshop somewhere, take the suit apart, give it a servicing and pick up as close to where he'd left off as possible. Instead he found himself hefting the suitcase containing the compacted armour through the city, not really sure where he was going or why, his feet leading him aimlessly through what felt like a collection of buildings for a giant museum exhibit rather than any real city that had been built for inhabitation.
They were like relics, all of them. Preserved, living specimens.
Exhibit n, Anthony Edward 'Tony' Stark, the Iron Man.

High above him, the holographically projected sky shimmered, clouds passing overhead in an elaborate pretense, for a purpose he didn't understand. Focusing, he attempted futilely to perceive the ceiling beyond, trying not to think too hard about the last words Steve had hurled at his back.

Was it worth it?

And for the first time, the answer was completely obvious.
Here, in the Bleed, where the Super-Human Registration Act, the Avengers, SHIELD, Norman Osborn, Stamford and everything else that had contributed to the inevitable lost all meaning?

No.
It had all been for no lasting reason at all.

Arha had been moving through every kata she knew, her lightsaber humming and flashing as she moved.  She was focused on Soresu, now, fighting an invisible army only she could see.  This was not the Sensorium, so she relied on nothing but herself.  Arha drew on the Force, and felt it flow through her, gathering in her palm as she moved to push, letting the Force ripple outward to repel a would-be assailant.

It was good practice to actually use the Force this way.  Her Force push stirred a cloud of dust that washed towards the open doorway.  Arha ignored it and kept moving, her hair uncharacteristically soaked and clad only in her plantsuit.  She swept onward, her movements weary, but steadfast.

If Obi-Wan could keep moving, so could she.

Arha began the set again. 

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.]

There are uncharacteristically dark crescents under Luna's protuberant eyes, their usual twinkle a little dimmer than it's been of late. She seems to be drooping in an odd way, shoulders curled forwards in a hunch, hair unnoticed in her face, fingers dull and slow.

Still, even exhaustion and nightmares can't stop Luna Lovegood from being Luna Lovegood - no matter how much they make her worry that Katara was right about... - and, as such, she has settled herself in the library, not particularly uncommon for her. Today, however, she isn't reading.

Today, she is juggling book tablets with her wand, a vague look of interest fixed on her pale face as Hogwarts: A History spins past the 1960 edition of The Oxford English Dictionary, The Encyclopaedia Brittanica bumping corners with Lolita.

"And Odo the hero, they bore him back home
To the place he had known as a lad,
They laid him to rest with his hat inside out
And his wand snapped in two, which was sad," she sings quietly, chin resting in the palm of her free hand as she twirls the four books into a counter-clockwise formation, screens glinting in the light, a sigh escaping.

"I miss normal books."

There is a resounding mental alarum that sounds through the ship. Nearly "deafening." Lights flash from places for extra emphasis, making it impossible to ignore.

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

It's entirely likely that she won't stop repeating the announcement until, well, everyone reports to Obs Deck. Outside the windows, a very Earth-like planet is visible, hanging in space. The mouth in the huge statue opens, revealing a screen. On it, the dossier for the mission flickers into display, understandable to every person there. Smaller copies of the dossier appear in holographic form in front of everyone.

The planet's stats, right next to a rotating holographic picture of it, marbled blue and green, are as follows:

Planet Designation: Earth-78734XM45
Status: Terrestrial, H-class.
Non-sentient life: Extensive flora and fauna.
Semi-Sentient Life: Yes.
Sentient Life: Homo Sapiens. [Various translations of "human" appear here so everyone understands it]
Water: 69.5% of the planet's surface.

Climate: Earth-like, in the throes of a mild nuclear winter [Click here for cultural equivalents for non-Earth cultures.]
Landscape: Varied.
Air: Normoxic concentration. Slightly elevated levels of carbon dioxide.

Air Pressure: 101.3 kPa (kilopascals) = 14.7 psi (pounds per square inch)
Sky: Blue. Often overcast.
Sun: A class G2V, yellow star.

Warnings: Wildlife and plant-life can be hazardous. Humans can be hazardous. A human cultural and legal database is available. [click here]

Mission: Revive the spiritual entity at the North Pole.

--

Following that, there are various maps and things visible. The version of Earth this world is may be very recognizable to some, but vast cities dot its surface.

||Attention, podmates. Attention.||

Apparently Stacy wants their attention.

||It is critical that you pay attention at this time.||

A few people will be able to avoid the call by being in the right place at the right time, but most will be gathered up on Obs Deck.

[ooc: Organization Post | You can post into the gathering thread. I'll add more subthreads with explanations of aspects of the mission as we go. Note: If you don't have time to post to this mission briefing but still want to have your character in the plot, that's fine. You can just pretend they were there the whole time. If you DON'T want your characters to be in this plot altogether, however, don't have them in the briefing--Stacy could have missed snagging them.]

Something...odd is happening on the ship. Plant-like protrusions are occasionally sprouting in places throughout the ship.

They look like mistletoe, but this is purely coincidental. It's not like it's the holidays on the ship, right? It might be for some people, back home (if they still had a home), but others were grabbed from different times. No, it's just coincidence that these little devices look vaguely like mistletoe, and coincidence what they're being used for.

For you see, when this "mistletoe" is overhead, a crew member will be trapped in an invisible forcefield, and won't be able to escape until someone has kissed them or otherwise showed them some equivalent of affection. (Cheek kisses and sloppy puppy kisses from the canine crew members count). The "mistletoe" spring itself is shielded itself and can't be destroyed, the only way out is a kiss.

Why is this all happening? GLaDoS is performing whacky behavioral experiments, that's why. Each time, it happens, she intones messages like the following.

"Please express affection for your fellow crewmate to free them."

"This is of the utmost importance, and part of ongoing Crew Coherency and Cooperation Studies."

"Please do not attempt to leave the vicinity until you have participated."

"Participation is required. Why wouldn't you want to participate?"

"The Transmigration9 AI Complex thanks you for your participation in important research. Unless you don't want to participate, but not participating would make me disappointed. I suppose you just want to disappoint me."

And of course, sometimes she even outright lies.

"There will be cake."

...cake? Where was that cake? Wait... that wasn't right. There was no cake. It was a dream. Yeah, a dream. That works. Indiana slipped out of his sleeping pod; he noted that the rest of these were strangely empty. How long was he asleep? He got the feeling that he'd missed something big.

However, Indy didn't care too much about the matters of the ship. He shrugged off any odd suspicions and headed to his might-as-well-be-home on the ship, the media library. He settled in with a datapad containing some ancient texts good thing he practiced his Latin subjunctives

The Vatican had a lot of ground to cover. Normally covered in expansive gardens (just empty plots on the ship) and comprised of a multitude of buildings, holing up there meant holing up in simply a part of the Vatican. The group was therefore in St. Peter's Basilica, which had had most of its entrances sealed off. Now they had to work on small windows and a few other entrances left neglected, but overall, it was a very defensible position. There were no exits other than the ones leading to the sacristy and treasury--which was their main avenue of escape, and heavily guarded. The prisoners were being kept in this area, and guarded by the rear guards, as leaving them in the prison was deemed too dangerous for their safety. As bad as they'd been with the Yeerk conflict, they were crew, and no one wanted them to die.

The courtyard was a chokepoint. Gunners could sit on the roofs of the buildings running alongside the courtyard to strafe St. Peter's square from the sides.

The various chapels and vestibules along the sides made excellent areas for food, medical, and weapons supplies to be gathered, and most were clustered in the middle of the basilica. The Medical area was in the Chapel of the Column, the main weapons and ammo caches, and Food storage areas were in the two Transepts, respectively, to the sides of the Papal altar. Pews all in the main areas had been converted to sleeping areas, right in the center of the whole place.

There was still work to be done, before the other group could leave. Last minute barricades, blocking more windows, moving the last of the medical supplies, inventorying the food, and so on. Then it would be time to hunker down.

So push up your sleeves and lend someone else a hand, folks.

[ooc: Read instructions for these threads here!]

Jaime Reyes voice sounds over the comm-rings--all of them--and it sounds very urgent.

« Everyone on the ship, listen up! This is Jaime Reyes, your local 'Blowing this pop stand' coordinator and escape facilitation engineer. I need everyone on the ship to come to the City, in front of the Precinct, immediately. Grab people who don't have their comm rings with them--and tell them to grab their comm rings, people who are sleeping, whoever you find, and try to make sure everyone on the ship knows to come. This is very important. This is "getting the heck out of here" important. »

When they arrive, they arrive to find the Command Staff waiting, and a tiny, tiny young man standing on stone ledge from a fountain, waiting for them.

Here goes nothing.

Well, that was strange. The last thing she remembered, she'd been in her bunk. So how had she gotten here in the middle of the hallway? Shaking off the initial disorientation, she shrugged slightly and started to walk. She didn't have any particular place in mind, it was just a walk. It felt like it had been a long time since she'd done anything. But there didn't seem to be a way to check what the time was, so she just shrugged it off as oversleeping. She'd never done that before. But maybe she'd been tired.

She just kept walking though. And eventually, her feet led her to the City. She'd never been to this part of the ship before, but the buildings seemed more familiar, if somewhat more reminiscent of Old Earth architecture than she was used to. Running her hands along the brick wall of one of the buildings, she looked up toward the crest of a hill and saw the Parthenon. Hadn't Déjà taught them about that before? It was a place the Greeks had held sacred, a temple to Athena, goddess of wisdom and warfare.

Walking up the hill, she reverently touched the stone pillars. Moving to the center of the floor she lowered herself to her knees, feeling suddenly tired and worn. Strange. Shaking her head, she knelt, head bowed, eyes closed letting herself feel the place. To worship, in her own way, the goddess who, if she'd believed in such things, ran her life.

"Beatus mihi,
Quod servo mihi,
Dea,
Duod illud EGO pugna pro." She whispered into the silence.

Bless me and protect me, Goddess, and all those I fight for.

She never thought Déjà's latin would have come in handy. But in this place. It felt right.

Wyn is… well, to be perfectly honest, she's kind of bored. The civil war didn't affect her much, except for the minor fact that she chose the wrong day to start field-testing in the City. School hadn't started yet-- she didn't think, at least. (She really hoped it hadn't; that would be awkward, to say the least.) So, she chose to do one of the few things guaranteed to keep her occupied for an hour or two.

Video games. She sits on a threadbare denim couch in an eerily-perfect replica of the Pierce Hall sitting room, fiddling with the microphone stand with a plastic guitar slung across her back. The door to the room itself is almost closed, but there's a note pinned to the door inviting people inside.

Come on, guys, Rock Band's no fun alone…

[ooc: If we could keep it to one giant party thread that would be amazingly fantastic.]

Indy did not like this ship. He did not like the meatiness. He did not like the tentacles that looked like snakes. He did not like the people who greeted him by yelling "Snake!" He did not like green eggs and ham the fact that he was wandering around hatless.

As much as he disliked the ship, he did like the fact that there was so much to explore on this ship. A quick look around the city revealed lost temples, old ruins, basically everything Indiana lives for.

Unfortunately, such explorations would have to wait. At least, explorations other than the weapons and possessions locker would have to wait. The good archaeologist was looking for something. Not some priceless artifact or unknown relic, he was looking for a hat. A simple, brown hat.

But it was Indy's most important possession, and he had to find it.

After being released from stasis, having the slime removed from their bodies and clothed in the creepy, pulsing leaf-suit that everyone wore, and being taken to the Weapons & Possessions lockers to collect their belongings, the new arrivals would find themselves standing in the Observation Deck. Round windows lined the fleshy walls, revealing the bright display of lights that was inter-dimensional travel. They would also discover that there were people--members of the command staff and crew that had woken earlier--waiting for them.