The infiltration team has had a long, hard slog through everything GLaDOS is capable of throwing in their way. Lasers, pitfall traps, rooms with mildly toxic gas, anything that she can spring on them with minimal prep time at her disposal and whilst at the mercy of the path they blast through the walls.

||Haha-a. Well done.||

The AI's voice is entirely mirthless as the team finally reaches their destination. It's cooler in this final hall and the floors and walls are mostly fleshy once again. There are more metallic intrusions here than much of the rest of the ship, but it's a sharp contrast to the stark whitewalled test chambers.

At the end, it opens up into a circular chamber with a narrow metal walkway spiraling up from the floor in the middle. Hanging from the ceiling in the center is a strange combination of wires and smooth, curved white metal with four spheres with colored "eyes" protruding from the tangle. The eyes roll toward the infiltration party.

||You ^have passed your test. Please wait _{for your} cake to be dispensed. Obey ^all cake awaiting procedures and _remain here un^til the cake arrives. Refrain from moving from ^{where you} stand or there will be no cake.||

How could something so apparently helpless possibly do anything to harm them now that they're out of her little "kingdom" of chambers and she can't keep playing her sick little games? It has to be a bluff.

Hasn't it?

This ship was still a dangerous place. There were a lot of things that were out of their control, and problems they could manage, but few that they could fix. One of the biggest ongoing problems was GLaDOS, who routinely caused crew members to disappear, some for good.

Worst of all, there was nothing that could be done about it.

Until now.

Which was why Leon was putting a team together, the members of which he had called to meet him at the Precinct. They'll be the ones to finally deal with the AI once and for all.

It was stupid, she had to admit, but Indigo had been avoiding most of the crew since the whole mess with the Spacewalk. Many of them hadn't heard of the incident, many didn't know the place existed. Which suited her damaged pride just fine. However, she still remembered, and the embarrassment still hadn't faded.

She was a machine. She couldn't forget.

Still, it was a sorry being that could spend their entire lives wallowing in self-pity over one incident. She'd probably done that already. It wouldn't stop her from staying in unvisited areas of the ship, not just yet, but that wasn't any sort of excuse to deny her hobbies. The last planet they'd stopped at, she'd bought enough paints to last her for a while. Odd as it was, she enjoyed watercolor painting.

And so, in middle of the transparent tube that made up the Spacewalk, Indigo stands, a canvas supported by a vibrant pink force field. Stacy had dropped out of the Bleed into a dimension that had caught her eye. A realm of dreaming telepaths, thoughts like thunder and rainbows flickering between sleeping, shifting forms.

She wasn't doing too bad a job of capturing it on canvas, either. Of course, capturing it perfectly would be impossible.

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.]

Brainiac 5 had been released from GLaDoS's clutches with another individual [PLACEHOLDER: A LINK TO A LOG WITH SPENCER WILL APPEAR HERE LATER], who he'd given some explanations and something of an abrupt tour to, and quickly found his way to Obs Deck, only to find it was rather occupied at the moment.

"Just what we need--more of the dazed and ignorant masses," says the Coluan only mildly contemptuously.

Then he keens a look for the individuals he'd very much like to see.

It's her second time in the hangar, it had taken her a bit to get enough out of her way to have some 'free time'. And her first was limited to cutting bits off of a Gundam to make new wingdings for Nightwing. With Spacewalk fully repaired, her supply of sonar beacons to drop in the vents exhausted, and a water recycling device for a washing machine fully created, she's ready to explore what-all ships and vehicles are readily available for use.

Many of them she recognizes. Some from popular science fiction shows. Some from history. Dozens of modern, or near-modern vehicles. She'd considered touring the Millennium Falcon, but it seemed that people with a claim to it were already on board, and she didn't feel like getting caught in there and having to explain that she was just looking through for the hell of it.

Her aimless wandering becomes a lot more aimless when her sensors direct her to a familiar shape. "The Pequod." She breathes lightly and lands next to it, mentally turning it on and ordering the doors to open. The ship reacts, clue enough that it's hers. Indigo steps inside, performing a full spectrum scan. Sure enough, the entire ship, especially the flat surfaces, are coated with her team's DNA. Largely Arsenal and Grace's. She slides her hand along the consoles, smiling a little to herself, and turns the chair around. Sure enough, just where she left him... "ANGEL!" She beams and picks the wee little puppet up, squishing him in her arms.

She plops herself into her seat and relaxes. It's a piece of home. It shouldn't make her feel so different, it doesn't make any sense for it feel different, but... Especially after the disaster that was the Spacewalk, it's... Nice.

Indigo stands in the hallways, hands clasped behind her back. She doesn't pace, she doesn't weave or bob around. It's like she's a statue, waiting for someone to pass before her disdainful look. She's outside the Spacewalk's doors.

She doesn't expect that many people. Perhaps three Science personnel. Two or three from Security. Not much trouble. A small part of her wishes that more people were here to observe the opening of both the Spacewalk and Hydroponics, but the more logical part crushes that. If the creatures are dangerous, it would be wiser not to have any other crewmembers around.

So, she waits.

Several buildings in the City had been completely destroyed during Aang's rampage, but a few had survived relatively unscathed. It had only taken Kang two days to repair the Drunken Dragon; he'd done so by himself, not even waiting for his leg to heal up a bit first.

Usually, he didn't bother lighting any candles or using the fireplace in the tavern unless it was a period when the artificial sun had set. He could see perfectly fine in the dim light. For the celebration, though, he'd thrown the windows open wide, scrounged up every candle he could find, and started up a fire, knowing that human vision wasn't as good as his own. The tables surrounding the stage had been cleaned, as well as the tankards, and the door was propped open. The bozak had even wrestled two of the 60-gallon barrels from the back room into a corner of the main room for easier access, one of cactus juice and one of ale. If more was needed, he was sure he could get someone to help bring out another.

Tess had commandeered the kitchen to make her food, bringing in her own equipment. Kang had been slightly afraid at first that she was going to burn the place down, but nothing had happened yet. She seemed to know what she was doing, even if she'd given him a few scares.

The sunlight glistened on the old sword blade teeth and dinnerplate eyes of the comical-looking wooden dragon grinning above the entrance. Come in, relax, have a drink and a bite to eat!

[OOC note: Both drinks are alcoholic, and the cactus juice has twice the kick of the ale. :D;]

Deadly phantoms are attacking the ship, nightmares are turning into daymares, and people are being caught by the Nightmare King's traps even when they're awake. The captain has put the ship on red alert and called together the Magical Department, the Security teams, and the bridge crew.

The Daligig have directed the crew towards two archives that have information that could help them--but will it be enough to stop the Nightmare King before it's full onslaught.

||These two Sensoriums have been configured to allow you visual navigation of my information archives. I have highlighted the path to the archives. However, navigation could be dangerous as in this state, safety protocols are not active due to security measures in my systems. Please take caution as you obtain the information.||

[ooc: One thread for each team, folks. After everyone has posted in, post in the same order to stay organized.]

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.]

Sofia entered one of the Sensoriums and called up a large ball room, the kind she would dream of dancing in as a child. High ceilings, large windows that let the sun stream through, paneled wooden tiles for the floor. All that she needed was-

Music, of course!

She asked for, and was given, a DJ and stereo system, stocked with all the music Stacy had available.

And, to top it all off, the last transformation was of Sofia's plantsuit. It morphed into a bright red dress that clung to her body, showing off her curves.

Now the fun could begin.

Getting around the ship, well, that's doable for a mouse. A bit of a trek, maybe, even on the small scale that is the ship's living quarters level (he hasn't even tried to go elsewhere), but Caelestine can manage it. He is one of the Guard, after all. But there's one difficulty—

Here, in the Mess Hall, all the equipment is scaled for humans—or, at least, for things rather larger than mice. Caelestine's clambered his way up onto one of the tables and is staring over at the food dispensers. Even if he got it to spit up one of those trays, it would be far larger than he could carry... And so he's stuck here, a little mouse in an ochre cloak with a mouse-scale greatsword slung across his back, trying to figure out what to do. His feet hang forlornly off the edge of the table.

The JLA Watchtower. Hall of Justice.

Or it would be, if it hadn't been destroyed along with the rest of their world. No, this is an uncanny facsimile courtesy of the sensoriums. The room itself is little more than an encircling window that looks out into space, Earth looming below, and an Arthurian table with twelve chairs, seven of which bearing the insignia of its reserved champion.

One of them is already here and sits like he owns this place-- well back in his chair, chin out and arms folded high across his chest.

Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito.

Superman had wanted it engraved on the table, years earlier when they operated out of a cave in Happy Harbor. Batman had scoffed, but then, he generally did anyway. Only now that his old friend isn't here to give him the 'see? I have good ideas too' face does he genuinely consider it. He had been fighting this war like it was Gotham, like it was his turf, and now he sees the error. He's looking for demons in the wrong place.

So here he sits, enjoying a reprieve from glorified tech support work and waits for his pantheon.

[ooc: Meet and greet type deal-- start your own sub-thread and/or comment to others. 'Sup to you.]

There are plants. She can tell that much through the window. At least before one of the bodies in the room floats between her window and the window across from it.

Indigo is just outside the door to the old Spacewalk, floating just a little to get a good look. Her hands are clasped behind her back. She'd been exploring the ship, following some of the ventilation shaft's exteriors before she decided to go into their interiors, when the door to the spacewalk had caught her eye. Well, not so much the door as her sensors indicating that there was a stretch of the ship nearby that was both weightless and a total vacuum.

Now she sees why. A small, detached part of her thinks it's quite beautiful, even with the corpses floating in the weightlessness. Most of her just wonders if it's possible to open this section of the ship up somehow, she'd like to check out what her maps have listed as 'Hydroponics'.

It's hard to keep track of time on the ship, which makes it harder for Lyle to tell when he's overworking himself. He seems to have overdone it a bit at the moment, and he's escaped to a Sensorium to relax.

Normally, he looks for people to chat with to regain his strength, but a recent dream has put him in more of a nostalgic and thoughtful mood. Still, it's almost a surprise to him when he enters the room and switches it to a rocky, barren landscape. His strongest memories of this place were a long, long time ago.

It does make sense. Being sent to Durla after everything that'd happened had turned out to be a blessing. He had people to talk to and new philosophies to learn, and he also had the surface. It was barren of any buildings and completely open to the sky--the clearest sky he'd seen on any planet.

He lies back and stargazes, but it's not long before he begins to feel that it's too easy to think here. Lyle sits up and begins to dust himself off, debating where else to go.

Somebody's in engineering, eating while he works. Jack's figured out that if he imagines hard enough, he can convince his brain that the slop is actually pudding for short lengths of time as long as he's busy doing something else while he eats it.

There's probably a rule against it, but that has yet to stop him.

Click, click, snap!

Jack puts down the little device, takes another bite of totally-pudding, swallows, and picks up his comm ring.

<< Hey, Indigo. You there? >>

[[OOC: This post is mostly so Jack can get those sonar beacons he was working on for Indigo to her, but if you want to tag in "before" that and talk to him you can.]]

The entire place smells like stale pizza and beer. Noisy disco music plays in the background, drowned out by the sound of clattering and heavy objects hitting the floor. Every so often, a muffled voice will sound over a PA, announcing that someone's order of food has been completed.

On one end of the large room, Indigo can be spotted, (smugly) clad in one of the shirts and skirts she'd bought from the previous mission. She's finished lacing her shoes, truly tacky tri-colored ones, and stands, patting her clothes down. She takes a look up at the blank scoreboard ahead of her, then down the lane towards her targets. With a satisfied nod, she picks up her tool, hefting it to feel the weight, takes three steps, and hurls it down the lane.

The targets, bowling pins, scatter with a cacophony of noise, and she grins to herself. Strike. Of course, she wasn't going to count it, not as the pins are being collected and reset. She's just calibrating and having fun, for now.

Across the ship, dumped in a completely different hallway--one just outside the city--stood Cale Tucker. Or, rather, there sat Cale Tucker...one his butt...in the middle of the hall...wearing nothing but what appeared to be his shredded uniform as a make-shift loin-cloth. Though, however, it looked more like a hand-towel that he had to hold onto to keep from exposing himself to anyone and everyone who just might come walking by.

"Oh, come on!" he hollered out angrily. He, too, had been nabbed by a certain bored AI with an affinity for messing with the members of the crew and treating them like her own personal playthings. "I did everything you asked me to! I even did it naked when you said I had to! You can't just dump me out here like this."

He paused, waiting for a response but got nothing in return.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" he continued, climbing to his feet and, balling up his fist, began to pound on Stacy's fleshy walls in an effort to get the attention of his tormentor.

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.]

The plantsuits and space age clothing are so warm they almost forget they're in an environment that's negative seventy degrees Fahrenheit, (-21 degrees C). This would likely explain the snowball fight right in the middle of the mission. The mission that they've all forgotten. Remember the mission, guys? The mission to revive the Spirit of Giving? That mission?

They have to revive the Spirit of Giving hidden away in its own pocket dimension, accessible only by a portal they probably can't find. Where could this portal be? It could be anywhere! It could be under the ice, under the sea, at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean.

The portal could be... suddenly wavering in the sky above them, like the aurora. Yes, there it is up in the sky, pushing the clouds out of the way to expose the sky overhead, caught in its three-month night, the stars sparkling in the frigid air. The sweeping colors probably remind them of the view from Obs Deck, and as it descends down from the sky closer to the snow, it bathes them all in a curtain of flickering pinks, greens, and blues. The edges of it burn white and then the portal opens up to a white space, that they can't see into. There is the delicate sound of bells coming from somewhere.

Their snowball fight did this.

The spirit thrived on joy, after all. What else would be the key to its home?

Well, what are you waiting for, folks? Dive in.

[ooc: tag away.]