Sneaking through corridors armed to the teeth was something she'd gotten depressingly used to over her time on Stacy, but Trudy didn't think much of the latest threat. For one, the invasion was scattered across all decks of the ship, giving the crew small pockets of robots intent on taking over key areas. It made it easy to fall back to Level 1 and Level 6, respectively, to regroup.

Contagion was a safe zone for now, and Trudy intended for it to stay that way. In fact, she intended to retake this whole deck very shortly, once they had enough manpower to do it. Medical seemed to be handling themselves fairly well on their own, and the only spot that threatened to be overrun was Special Weapons.

"All right people, listen up, here's what we do. Move anything you can to barricade the windows to Contagion - we don't want them to know how many people we've got in here. We'll wait until we have a fairly sizable force and then we'll push out into the corridor and retake Special Weapons. From there, we'll push forward to Level 2 and try to force them out of the pod caverns. Fortify this position as much as you can and keep an eye on the corridor. Friendly target, pull them in. Unfriendly target, eliminate with extreme prejudice."

She didn't want any surprises, but she did want as many people on her side as could be had.

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!]

Red Rose was a bar in Western Side that only a few brave men and women chose to venture into. Once the private property of one Snidley Pridlash, the bar was still full of sympathizers and men who could easily stick a knife into your back.

Which is why, of course, they'd only send the best for the job. At least they thought.

Allard, Nomalanga's right hand man, didn't really know the people he had picked out for it, but he was a good judge of character just by a person's eyes and attitude, and so, the quiet peace of this small place and all it's terrible men was interrupted by five people dressed in their best cowboy attires, looking about as dangerous as everyone else inside. Granted, their eyes first drew to the only lady of the group, Aya (aka Sharp Shooter), but she was flocked only by Stacy's best; Ash (Aka Iron Hand), Mal (Aka Lonesome Cowboy), Eine (Aka Fire Hands) and Han Solo (aka Han Solo I mean Scoundrel). Did they really need those nicknames? No but you had to admit it sounded cool.

They had been dressed up to fit even more with the decor, sporting pairs of leather pants, spurs (they made the best noise) and a leather belt which held their guns, they looked as local as any of the other wild animals in this place. The musicians stopped for a minute, but once no one else tried to kill them, they continued.

The bar was modern, sleek and very steampunkish. Lovely ladies in tight clothing stood near the entrance, eying the men with approving gazes. There were rows of tables and wooden ones farther down all playing one game;

Poker.

And that's what they'd come in to do. There mission was to find information about Snidley by playing card games and beating the locals. There was word of a five man team that was unbeatable; A humanoid with four hands named Fingers, a Lion named Leo, a Meerkat named Tim, a robot named Bolts and a Warthog named Stinks.

The liquor was hard, and the game would probably last all day. And hell, if they managed to play good, they might actually walk away with this with not only information, but some money to boot.

[OOC- Just so you four know, I don't really know that much about Poker and it's going to be more about the CR and stuff with dramatic hands than real games of blackjack, so no worries if you don't either.]

While Serenity had weathered the last fight amazingly well given she'd been plunged into the midst of a war to devour an entire world, both the damage from the fight, and the Firefly's own advanced age and at times cheaply funded state of repair, meant it was time for Mal to go scrounging for parts for his home.

Of course, there were probably plenty of facilities on Stacy that would have been able to supply him with who knew what futuristic wonders, but given he still had yet to get used to feeling like his clothes were trying to digest him, he wasn't letting any of that biotech crap anywhere near his girl. Of course, that meant he had to go for the alternative, plunging deeper into the City than he had gone before, to find something he could scavenge, preferably without getting shot at by a put out owner. Using the Drunken Dragon as a starting point, he'd made the decision to start out by making his way south, into the areas that had been less well documented by the crew. With any luck, he would be able to find something usable that wasn't claimed by anyone.

Of course, given how his luck usually went, he'd also brought along his gun, just in case. Slinging a large bag for any small portables he might find, he checked his makeshift map and stepped away from the tavern.

"Gonna be a nice simple walk. Find the place, mark it, get out. Nice and simple."

Talking to himself probably wasn't a good sign.

Its time to unwind, relax and receive news of home. A pod pop occurred while some were on a mission and it's time to meet up with new friends, drink well with old, and relax.The Drunken Dragon has opened its doors and stands ready and willing to assist in forgetting the trials those on the mission experienced.




OOC: If you want a specific barmaid, just put their name in the subject. Otherwise, enjoy, intermingle and do as you like.

Having seen more of the 'Verse than most people would dream possible in his rather eventful life, Mal had also been a patron of just about every type of drinking establishment there was. From upscale Core World bars to shacks out on the very Rim held together with mud and prayers, it was very likely Mal had at least stepped into it for a drink, and possibly a nice fight. Bars and Taverns were where you could learn a great deal about a person, just by watching how much they chose to abandon their own restrictions and self control in the presence of others. They were also where there was information, business deals, and new contacts to be found, all present in one neat central location, one that many communities revolved around. Whenever he stopped in a new port of call, Mal always made sure to pay the bar a visit sooner rather than later.

Of course, with all his experience with watering holes, he had to admit that the Drunken Dragon was something very new. On the surface it could almost be mistaken for a Rim world bar, with its rough and almost primitive design motif, almost comical dragon decoration, and lack of all the da bian luxuries the Alliance insisted marked them as civilized. Mal had been in enough of those dives, however, to realize that the Dragon was far more well maintained than most of them could afford to be, and that the design itself was not the result of a hodgepodge of whatever materials they could scrounge. It looked more like something out of an ancient Earth That Was picture book. Setting foot inside, Mal took the time to survey the layout of the place, memorizing the locations of all the tables, staff, and exits just in case he needed to leave in a hurry.

Not that he expected to have to do so, given Kaylee and Wash's assurances about the respect the patrons paid the owner of the tavern, but old habits died hard, and if he let them die then he expected he would soon follow. Still, it seemed like he'd arrived a bit early, and with time to spare before the person he was meeting arrived he made his way across the tavern to a place where he could sit with his back to the wall and watch the door. Of course, once he sat he needed a moment to get used to the fit of his suit, as he had for the past few days. He was rather glad the ship had seen fit to save the coat that was a symbol of his continued defiance against the now dead Alliance, but he had to wonder if it would have really hurt to save his pants and shirt too.

[OOC:This thread is mostly for if characters who Mal had arraigned to meet for drinks at the tavern, but if you want to thread with him feel free to have a character run into him while he's waiting. Individual threads can be set at different times too.]

An amusement part was an interesting place to find Mal, given that since his arrival for the most part he had been anything but amused. It was, however, the only location he could find with a shooting range, and for the moment he had a powerful need to shoot something.

Which was why he stood in the middle of the range, putting bullet after bullet into the target's heads and chests, and totally ignoring any shocked looks by others that might be sent his way. Having found himself dropped into another war, one he had never asked for this time, he had every intention of seeing that it was not a repeat of the last one.

Especially not with what was at stake.

Down on the city level, right by the Kohaku River and near the imposing castle, a modern-looking white building welcomed one and all to its promise of running water and warmth. Maybe even a little socializing was in order.

The ramp led up to the heated roof level, where one and all could sit down and relax in an almost sauna-like environment. Below, corridors contained plenty of towels, places to leave clothes, quick showers, and the baths, a number of them sized for any and all comers.

The private areas were accessed through separate corridors on the outside, but the busier communal baths were just as warm and welcoming. Anyone of any size or species was welcome here, so long as they behaved themselves.

[ooc: it's mingling party post time! Just start a thread or hop in one, and note if your character's in a single sex bath, co-ed, or the sauna level upstairs. My characters will be here to meet some people too.]

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.]

[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... )

It begins. It happens very suddenly. Shadows moving up the hallways where shadows shouldn't be. For a moment, as they all stand where they stand on the ship, the ship--the universe--moves around them, and they're transported somewhere far away. Just for an instant.

On some worlds that were, some versions of Earth, a man tormented by night terrors wrote of it once, wrote of things revealed under the light of a greenish moon: corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low. Beyond the worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctifled temples that rest on nameless rocks beneath space and reach up to dizzy vacua above the spheres of light and darkness.

There are pipes, pipes in the darkness, the whine of droning flutes, and far off, the muffled, mad beating of drums.

There's a bright white flash, blinding, and those that have tongues will taste static, and then reality boils and runs and reshapes around them as their nightmares and worst fears become reality.

[roster: Leader - Mal Reynolds, Grim Eyes, Kate Bishop, Kaylee Frye, Princess Projectra, Sawyer]

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.]

Everybody needed a little comfort now and again. Stacy was a nice enough ship, and there was plenty of repairs and preparations to keep a person busy, but she wasn't exactly home. Kaylee was alright with where she was--she'd come to terms with the whole idea of destroyed worlds, missing crew and family, all that good stuff--but sometimes there was just no use in fighting the need to go home.

A good point of the Sensoriums was that she could do just that. It wasn't real, and it wouldn't be for a long while, but it was the comfort she needed, especially if her estimate of the days was accurate.

Chinese New Year.

A little ranch, complete with cozy farm house and mechanic's shop, all draped in red and gold in celebration. Chinese lanterns were hung up in trees and off of rooftops. Kaylee herself had curled up on the swing that hung down from the porch's roof, with her eyes closed as she hummed old songs.

It was good to be home.

Wolfwood had made the call over the omnicomm. However, he received a far larger audience than expected. He had no idea of how people were even possibly looking for faith after Daimon's admonishions, so the crowd disturbed him a bit. He pushed ahead anyway.

"Well, here I go." He started, picking and chosing his word carefully. "In these harsh times, it's easy for all of us to look outward for salvation. We all come from different worlds, with different religions. Now, more than ever, clinging to those beliefs seems natural. And it is, because you aren't wrong. We all believe in the same thing, in the end, don't we?" He paused for a moment, to let it sit. "We all believe in a higher power. Now, I am going to tell you a truth I have normally only shared with my close friends: I... am a cynic." He paused again, letting it sink in. "I know, right? Horrible quality in a priest. But it's how I have been. One of my favorite expressions was that man is nothing like God. Not only are our powers limited, but sometimes we are forced to become the devil himself. You, every one of you here today, has proven me wrong, regardless of belief or religion, or lack thereof. Every single one of you have shown a devotion, a faith, a strength that I have always lacked."  The ertswhile priest paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

"I was raised with my faith from childhood, and until being on this ship, I had no concept of divinity. It hasn't come from your abilities, skills or powers. It has come from your faith. In yourselves, or in others. And truly , truly, I understand that now.  Every one of you has shown divinity in your own way, from the lowest to the highest."  He pause again, yet more collecting of his thoughts, before moving on.

"In my time on this vessel, I have seen you all perform everyday feats that you may take for granted. I have seen sinners forgiven their past. I've seen evil men turn their backs on evil to benefit the greater good. I've seen people being kind to eachother for no reason other than being kind. These things, at best, are a luxury where I come from. And yet everyone here displays it fervently, with the kind of faith and strength most saints wish they could have. That is my proof, as a man of God, not just in my own holy power, but in all of them. Yours, mine, his, hers, they're all the same, and they all show themselves in your actions." Now was not only a pause, but a deep breath, as he had been ranting for a little bit. "In short, it is easy for any of us to look for our gods in the heavens. Hell, it seems a natural reaction. But maybe, just maybe, that proof of God you are looking for in these desperate times lies, truly, in the kindness of a neighbor. In the support of a friend. In the strength of an admired comrade." He stopped, this time to let it all sink in.

"So, the next time you want to look outwards to see divinity, I would rather inspire you to look to your friends and allies, and ask them and accept them for their beliefs. Because their strength is your strength, and yours theirs. Maybe, just maybe, all of the gods want us to work together." Another pause, another prayer, another moment.

" I will be taking confessionals and offering counseling in this church's offices after this service. All who want to talk are welcome to have their discussions with me, or be guided to a proper minister of their own faith, if I know of one." He then walked to the office, thinking one solitary thought.

Sermons are hard.

Slowly but surely, the nightmares have been chipping away at the mental defenses of the crew.

Even those who attempt to stay awake to avoid the nightmares find themselves too on-edge to completely concentrate their defenses.

And the Nightmare King has not been idle during all this, no. He has been slowly feeding off the crew, gathering his strength so that he may yet break free from his prison.

And he now uses that new found power, reaching out to affect the minds of the crew even in the waking world. Even those avoiding sleep will find themselves drifting in and out of their nightmares, bringing everyone a taste of despair.

After all, no one can escape the grasp of the King of Nightmares.

No one.

[ooc: OH NOEZ. As you can guess, the Nightmare King is getting stronger. As such, the crew will start experiencing waking dreams. These are much more subtle than the normal nightmares, however, and are more so depressing and surreal than actually brain-breaking. Mostly they would be miserable versions of the character's normal life, or perhaps even their life on the ship.]

Mal was sitting at the table in the dining room on Serenity with his gun resting in front of him. He'd just finished cleaning it out and reloading it, and was now taking a minute to just relax. It was ironic that the only thing that made him forget about the worries caused by living on Stacy was a good round of drinks and pleasurable company. He and Wolfwood had hit it off, but also the drinking game he did with Jo was definitely enjoyable.

But now it was business as usual, looking after Serenity and what there was of his crew. Even though they weren't all there, not all of them, he still felt he had the responsibility to watch over them and make sure they didn't get themselves in too much trouble. Inara could handle herself for the most part, so he rarely interfered with her, but Kaylee was the one he was most concerned about.

He had a soft spot for her anyway, so seeing her get hurt or in trouble was the last thing he wanted.

Mal shook his head then, thinking he was getting too lost in his own mind. He picked up the gun and pointed it at a random spot in front of him, and pretended he was firing it. There wasn't much cause to shoot things on Stacy, and she probably wouldn't have liked it if he did. Maybe a couple of hours in the Sensoriums would take care of that, he thought as he sat there with the gun still in his hand.

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?"

They had a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time to do it in. And not only did the lives of everyone in the crew depend on their success, but so did the lives of the millions of people in podsleep. And the billions of billions of people in the omniverse whose worlds were being threatened by the Ohm - maybe they were just one ship, but "for want of a nail," right?

Nanoha couldn't let everybody down. She had to finish all of her reports - it was frustrating not to be able to help Roxie more than she was - and make sure everyone was aware, she had to look through all the data to try and find a key point... and what's more, she knew that if she did it in the room she shared with Fate, the blonde girl would tell her she was overworking herself and make her stop.

She knew it was out of love, and that Fate was probably right, but she couldn't relax. Not yet. There'd be time for that once the King was defeated. So she sat up in the Obs Deck, watching the bleed as she carefully transcribed very meticulous notes. How long had it been since she'd slept? A day? Two? She'd lost track of time, moving around the ship.

So it wasn't long before even her willpower wasn't enough to overtake the exhaustion on her very human body, and her eyes fluttered closed. Anyone who came to the Obs Deck would find Nanoha seated in a corner, comm unit / information pad in her hands, slumped against the wall and sound asleep.

Mal wandered out of the place where Serenity was being kept, determined to get some change of scenery besides that of the walls of his ship or fancy parties being put on by his mechanic.

He kept going, until he left the bays behind, and returned to the main part of the ship, where the sensoriums and such were. He had no real destination in mind, but the sensoriums looked as good a place as any. Problem was, there was nothing in particular he wanted the place to turn into.

With Serenity there, there was no reason to bring up recreations of the ship, so that crossed that out. But then an idea came to him; he thought maybe he'd like a drink, so he thought about one of the many bars he'd been to in his travels and waited for the scene to materialize in front of him.

It wasn't long before he did, so he walked up to the bar, got the drink he wanted, and sat down in a quiet corner of the room. Maybe after a couple of drinks, he'd be feeling good enough to forget about the annoyance that was the nightmares that had been bothering him and everyone else lately. Maybe he'd even get Kaylee to stop worrying about him, if he started acting happier.

That seemed a little far-fetched, but hey, he figured anything could happen.