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."

It would be something of an understatement that Asuka was feeling frustrated. She was well past frustration and anger into something that ran for deeper then just a little spat with Lafiel and being grounded. It was frustration with herself, with this ship, with having lost everything. Frustration at not being able to do anything to save her own world, the one she'd trained to defend for years. Frustration at being trapped. Frustration with Lafiel. With Katara. With being grounded. With everything that had gone wrong for her since she arrived or had gone wrong in her life. Anger at her mother, at her father, at NERV, at Misato.

Anger at herself.

She remembered Aang's words from a few nights ago but they did little to soothe her. She needed to get this out. She needed to do something before she went crazy. So she summoned up a punching bag in the Sensoriums and went to town on it. The last couple of months training with Meluly hadn't been wasted after all. She was in some of the best physical shape of her life. She could ran further and faster then she'd ever been able to. She was stronger. She knew how to fight.

Asuka pummeled the punching bag with feet, elbows, fists, anything at all to let the anger out of her. She imagined it was Lafiel. Wedge. KAtara. Misato. Shinji. Everyone who had ever annoyed her, pissed her off, let her down. Except her mother. She couldn't bring herself to imagine her mother in front of her like that. She slammed another one-two punch combination into the bag, then finally turned away. She'd ditched the plantsuit and was wearing a too-big tank top, sports bra and shorts. It was easier to move in this. It wasn't as hot. She settled her hands on her hips and wiped the sweat off of her brow, glaring at the punching bag.

Well, she felt a little better now.

Lafiel staggered out and away from the sensorium pod, clutching her bruised jaw. Blood pooled between her teeth, coppery and salty in her mouth and she swallowed it.

There was a special kind of humiliation that came with being physically bested and though Lafiel knew she was in the right, it still stung.

Master Chief or Captain Kirk would have known what do immediately, but she had only exacerbated the situation. She knew this to be her own fault. The punch had been a predictable consequence of her actions.

She couldn't even curse for fear of spitting more blood.

As per the Chief's message, it was training time. Everyone who signed up for training (or was signed up by someone else) was ordered to an open square in the City.

Yes, the City, instead of the sensoriums. That meant that any weapons used would be real. And every bit of damage that they dealt would be real. As would the injuries. Though there didn't seem to be any weapons around, and there were no targets set up.

Interesting, that.

Anyway, in the square was the Chief of Security, who was busy marking off names of people who arrived early or on time. Anyone who figured that they could skip out, though, there is now an unhappy seven foot fully armed and armored Spartan hunting you down.

((ooc: READ THIS BEFORE TAGGING. EDIT: But the first subthread "Early/on time arrivals" is now open for tagging. Training has now begun!))

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!]

When he first saw it weeks ago, shortly after the crew had finally caught up him, he thought for certain that he was hallucinating. But there it was, nestled among several other castles. The Luthor Mansion, in all it's glory.

Lex was never a superstitious man, but even he believed that there was more to heaven and earth than what could be proven on paper. The appearance of his home, a reward no other crew member had received (to his knowledge), certainly made him think. He wondered if this was some sort of sign that his decisions so far had indeed been right, or that he was on the right path. Perhaps it was put there as a distraction of sorts, as well, as there were many unpleasant memories that haunted those walls. For the time being, he decided to take it as a reward, however relocating there initially proved to be problematic.

The Mansion wasn't in disarray, but it was clear that no one had walked its halls in quite some time. Not only that, but the last people who had clearly had little regard for the property. There was a layer of dirt and dust everywhere, expensive and priceless paintings had been torn off the walls and trashed, priceless artifacts were just broken pieces of clay or stone, pieces of antique furniture had been smashed, and every vault was empty. Not a single green meteor rock to be found. He counted himself lucky that his pool table, piano, and a handful of family photos managed to survive.

Rather than be dejected, Lex looked at it as project to occupy his time. Since he only worked in Neuropathy whenever he felt like it, and manned the bar in the lounge at his discretion, he did have plenty of time to devote to this project. Which was good, because cleaning up and fixing up a 40 room mansion-- replete with its own library (with real books), well supplied medieval armory and modern armory, pool, wine cellar, gym, and grand ballroom-- took a lot of work.

Work which still hadn't been completed, but he had progressed far enough to not only make it livable, but also presentable. The master bedroom, Lex's office, and most of the common areas had been cleaned up. All the rest was blocked off for the moment, but were in locations that were fairly out of the way.

So, he put out a message on the omnicomms, and invited a few people to check the place out. The ones who weren't already spying on him, at any rate. He laid out a few drinks, and a sampling of some of the fresh fruit and food he picked up while during their last mission to earth. He didn't expect many guests, after all, he had never been the most well liked person, even back when he was a relatively kindhearted kid. Most parties he hosted as an adult, he was usually surrounded by obsequious employees desperate to move up the food chain, business partners who wanted a more favorable deal, business rivals who were trying to find out something about the competition, charity representatives who wanted money, and sycophants who wanted the notoriety of being in the same room as Lex Luthor and access to the connections that alone can bring. Friends were simply a foreign concept, if he ever truly had any to begin with, and he certainly hadn't gone out of his way to make any on the ship. He was curious as to what category his guests, if he had any, would fit in.

((ooc: This is something of a party style post, so feel free to talk to Lex, Lois, or talk to each other while your character looks around.))

There is a whole world out there to spread holiday joy to. A world of flying cars, and massive towering skyscrapers, of quiet, cold deserts, of snow-covered cities. Everyone in it is either holed up in their homes, hooked into the Links, the network run by Macrohard, abstaining from human contact, or they're poor and destitute, in the streets, and in parts of the world that are ailing right now.

Some of them are due to stop in on specific parts of the world during their journeys. Others are just going to be show generosity to anyone they meet. Every angle has to be covered, every holiday that celebrates generosity and unity, to help stoke the fires and revive the Holiday Spirit.

Pick a place, Meatcrew. Grab some crewmates to help. Make some noise and entice people to leave their VR sets and come outside with their fellow man.

With the magical sacks, containing last of the Spirit's power, they can give anything that's wanted OR needed to the people of this world, and with the enchanted flying cars, they can get anywhere in the world to do it, in no time.

[ooc: Special holiday groups, tag your assigned subthreads (and keeping them in one thread would likely be best, since those groups are small). Whoever feels creative can pick an exact location and set up details--we wanted to give you some freedom to have your characters find where to go. Anyone else, doing Christmas or general gift-giving, tag and make new subthreads for each situation of gift-giving. These can stand alone as vignettes, but we encourage everyone to thread-hop and tag in to random threads. Don't worry about the organization of groups, they'll probably be switching groups all over the place throughout the night.]

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.]

Somewhere in the ship's city level, there is a nice little outdoor auditorium. Though empty, it has its folding chairs all laid out neatly for an audience that will never come. Under the half-dome someone's laid out a few of those plastic-wrapped food trays. Someone... who is there, somewhere, lurking about. There's a black utility belt discarded there, too, studded with pockets, and a folded bundle of red cloth.

Maybe if you look closer, you'll find whoever it is.

Meluly had gone along cooperatively with Katara, following the girl to her room. Getting along so well has left a little skip in her step, and she slides the door behind them shut before momentarily claiming Toph's bed to perch on the edge of, watching Katara with a vague, pleasant expression. Her body language is halfway tense, halfway languid in odd increments, not quite sure of what she wants, but happy enough with anything that comes along.

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."

The cave entrance was warm, slightly cinnamon scented, and rolled back into a long corridor lined with phosphorescent lichen clustered in groups that lit the murky surroundings with a soft blue illumination. The atmosphere was damp, but not uncomfortably so, and Arha had padded its winding corridors for the few minutes it took to find the warm swirl of mineral infused water. Water. And not cool water, either. She blinked as she crouched at the edge of the pool and tentatively dipped her fingertips into it.

It was hot.

Not hot enough to burn, but definitely hot enough to soak tension from a body. Her eyebrows arched slightly. Something like this was an interesting interpretation of the phrase I should like a place to ease sore muscles. She had been training hard recently and it showed, of that she was sure. Her calves and her back ached, but it was a pleasant thing that told her she was doing well and she reveled in each day's training session be they mind or body or both. And now, she regarded the pool with curiosity.

"And just how," she murmured, her voice echoing, "shall I go about this, hmm?"

Was she supposed to relax in the vapors or actually disrobe and soak within the water itself? Such things did not have directions, after all. The air was thick with the scent of minerals--she could pick them out if she cared to do so--so, it was always a possibility that one was supposed to inhale them. Truly, this was a curious thing and required thought.

Asuka felt ecstatic. She'd gone down to the hangar in the dim hope that she might be able to find her Eva. It had taken her a while, of drifting through the multitude of vehicles, hoping to catch a glance of a familiar shade of red. And she had. When she'd seen it, she'd let out a whoop of joy and pushed off of the wall, shooting up to it's shoulder (the zero-g had taken her a while to get used to, though).

It was locked in place, staring out over the hangar. She settled on the shoulder with a grin, legs dangling as she leaned against it's neck. For some reason, it's presence just made her feel better. Safer. Like she could handle everything that was being tossed at her. She almost wanted to crawl inside it just now, but her plugsuits were stashed back in her new (admittedly spartan) room.Besides, now she was invincible. She had her Eva. When she was in it, nothing could stop her.

Nothing at all.

Robert waited casually near the entrance of the Sensoriums, arms folded across his chest as he waited for Meluly to arrive. He'd been serious about learning to pitol...whatever they were called again. He felt as if just wielding a rifle wouldn't be enough in this war they were in now, just like beat cops weren't enough to keep down crime. He shifted his stance slightly, glad that the new rooms they'd gotten allowed him to store some of his gear, so he wasn't stuck carrying his rifle around all day in fear of it being nicked by a less than honest crewmate.

And he would learn and he would do well, he told himself. If not for himself or the crew, for those who needed protecting from the Ohm. And for everybody who hadn't had the chance to fight back, the innocents who were destroyed without even knowing what had happened.

Stacy jerks and shudders to a sudden stop, likely upsetting more than a few things already upset because the comms have stopped working. And deep down inside Stacy, on the first level, a little section thoughtfully titled "Contagion Containment and Quarantine" spilled open.

Hal 9000 had opened it up. And the things that had been kept there were still alive.

Or at least, they were moving...

Their groans echoed through the lower level as they spilled out of Quarantine 1, shambling and shuffling toward the Hub. The Hub would take them where they wanted to go. And what they wanted to do first was make some new friends.

So they went to the Pod Caverns. Then, after that, the zombies started heading up to the City...

[[OOC: Holy $#%&, Team Left Behind, ZOMBIES. Going to set up some subthreads, please wait until I do! INFO HERE, FIRST SUB-THREAD GO GO GO!]]

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!]

Despite having grown up in Cambodia, Gauron's never actually been to Angkor Wat before - and the one he's prowling around in now isn't even the real one, though it had been a completely unexpected find. He'd recently begun lengthening his exploration trips into the city to what would've been two-day excursions in his world, though they were more like weeklong trips on the city's timetable; maintaining the pace, it wouldn't be too long before he'd covered all of the streets and major landmarks. Today's trip had taken him out to the city wall, then north along it another few kilometers. When he'd climbed one of the taller buildings to check his bearings, he'd caught sight of the temple's towers.

The holographic sun had been beginning to dip low in the sky as he made his way across the bridge over the dry moat, and he'd decided this was as good a place to finish up his explorations for this trip as any.

There's something a little creepy about seeing the temple complex completely devoid of the vegetation that's supposed to be blanketing it; in the bare dirt, the last traces of the city that stood within its walls centuries ago are clearly visible. He makes his way through them for a little while, mapping out the ancient streets, but as the sun sets he finally heads up to the temple proper, to get a look at the bas-reliefs covering the walls while there's still some light.

After listening to the prosecution’s case and the defense’s case, the eight person jury was ushered into a secure and empty room to determine the fate of the Yeerk known as Schmuz-44356. The charges presented to the court were as follows:

11 counts of Kidnapping
2 counts of Attempted Kidnapping
13 counts of Conspiracy to Kidnap
11 counts of Enslavement
2 counts of Attempted Enslavement
13 counts of Conspiracy to Enslave
7 counts of Attempted Murder
28 counts of Assault with Intent to Kill
35 counts of Conspiracy to Commit Murder

Let the deliberations begin...

Claire had had a lot to deal with in the last few days. She had always been the type of person to look out for those who couldn't look out for themselves, or needed a little extra help along the way, but with the arrival of Sherry Birkin she'd pretty much bumped that up to full-time. Then of course, Steve was there now, too, and having to sort out everything dealing with his virus and all the charming problems that came with that had been mildly stressful, to say the least.

So, while Claire wasn't a huge fan of the idea of the Sensoriums, that's where she could be found, sitting astride a parked motorcycle on a cliff overlooking a remote mountain lake. The bike was the spitting image of the Softail she'd lost when she'd been forced to abandon it in Raccoon City. She'd had a handful of bikes since then, but the Softail had always had some sentimental value, and she still missed it. Her hair was a little windswept, an obvious indicator she'd been putting the bike to more use than just a sentimental piece of virtual furniture, but for the moment she was just stopped, appreciating the view and rolling over everything that had happened recently in her head.

Also wishing desperately her brother was around to talk to, but not hard enough that a virtual copy of him popped up. She was going to draw the limit at creepy realism there. She'd probably be open to other human interaction, however, despite the quiet state of contemplation she was currently in.