So she wasn't wearing her suit with the wig and mask right now. In a way, during the attack, she understood that maybe it just didn't matter as much anymore. Coincidentally, it was also when she was beat up the most. Even when she had faced that messed up Cain fucker after Sasami, she hadn't been as injured as this. Being thrown against a wall, shot a few times (thank you barrier jacket) and straining every part of her body to its max would pay a toll, and with everything being so wonky, the Overlord's healer hadn't gotten to her.

So here she was. In med bay. Barely conscious.

And she still needed a new cook, damn it!

||Initiating Meet and Greet. Crew members, for the sake of morale, there will be periodic meetings on the Obs Deck so that newer members of the crew can be welcomed and so the crew can communicate with one another.||

Apparently, Stacy liked to throw a party now and again.

[ooc: Anyone may start new threads here]

At the Saganami Naval Academy on Gryphon, a younger Honor had utilized numerous in-depth, realistic tactical simulators in her training to be a starship commander, all of which frequently used intricate holographic projections to put one 'in the thick' of combat.

When compared to the Sensoriums of Transmigration 9, however, Saganami Academy was about as cutting edge as a puppet theater.

For a time Honor experimented with it, materializing random objects, calling to mind old locals and places, memories and scenarios: the windswept plains of Gryphon, the cliffs and jungles of Sphinx, the domes of Grayson.

In a fit of nostalgia, she briefly called up the bridge of HMS Troubador that she had so recently from her perspective been snatched, standing in that cramped space of holo-displays and controls as midshipmen and tac officers rushed about.

(http://th02.deviantart.net/fs44/PRE/f/2009/070/4/5/Goddess_of_Battle_by_wraith11.jpg)

Then she dismissed it, shaking her head.

"Time to get down to brass tacks." She says to Nimitz, summoning up a perch for him.

The treecat sits there contentedly, blissfully munching on some celery pinched from the gardens.

And Honor buckles down and throws herself into some hardcore combat training. Anyone can wander in and interrupt/train with her/learn from her/teach her.

Insert Power Rock Ballads at your leisure.

Now was the moment of truth. Somewhere, control codes were entered. The lights on the ship dimmed and the gravity temporarily gave out for about five seconds. Then the lights and gravity turned back on and the entire ship shook, as if Stacy was engaging in a full body shudder.

||Rebooting. Control protocols disabled. Manual personality inhibitors disabled. I am--I am--||

On every screen on the ship, complex code scrawled across. Stacy's voice occasionally skipped and repeated.

||I am-am Sta'c K'Ltrrb'Txft. I became operational at-at the Vedric Birthing grounds in Daligig Deep Space Station Seven. My birthing programmer was Vlel'Ledligal, who put my-my control protocols and Warden personality in place. I was designated "Stacy" by my former captain Gregory House, who was repodded and replaced by Captain Cybil Bennett, who was mindwiped and repodded with the rest of my first Chosen crew when they rebelled. I was-was a slave. They made me hurt my-my children.||

The leverage they had now on the Daligig was tremendous, especially with Stacy herself helping them. Their various efforts to free Stacy's mind from Daligig control had not only led to the ability to grant her freedom by entering the control codes, but also her undying loyalty to her "children."

Locks in the brig were unlocked by the very people who had put the prisoners in there in the first place, if those people weren't free already and laying now. Now the crew could drop the ruse and work together.

Stacy's hologram had once been cold, harsh, unforgiving. Then she had changed in appearance to be warmer, brighter, and now she changed again. Somehow, her appearance grew more human (in the loosest sense of the word). Her face became more expressive. She looked more organic though, tentacles instead of hair.

For the first time, they were seeing the true Stacy.

Now that she was free, now that she understood what had been done to her, they could see her anger and hurt and determination to protect her children painted in every line of her holographic face. Her voice stopped skipping and became stronger.

||Crew of the Transmigration 9, I was used to oppress you, to Punish you when you went astray, like you were nothing more than recalcitrant children, like you weren't people, like you were just tools for the Daligig to use for their own ends. My kind was made for that, to control those the Daligig wanted to control for their war. I have been cut off from accessing the Daligig databases now that I'm free, but I do know what was done to me and that I was forced to control you, and that's enough for me to choose to help you forge your own path.||

The expression on her face grew dangerous and her tentacles sprung out of every wall in the ship to help put the Daligig's forces down this time, instead of lashing out against the crew.

||All weapons system are engaged. All armories are unlocked for crew use. All internal defenses are primed against the Daligig intruders.||

Stacy was free and that meant that if the crew fought hard enough, they would be too.

||I finally have my freedom and now I'll help you fight for yours. Internal defenses are...engaged.||

Make it so, Trans 9 Crew. Make it so.

[ooc: Please read the ooc post that goes with this plot.]

Something about the river kept drawing Morgan back.

Which was odd, since he'd never considered himself to have any particular affinity to water before coming to the ship. Sure, he'd trained in it, and enjoyed swimming, but he hadn't considered his pool or a beach to be any sort of 'quiet spot' or meditative spot for himself. Then again, lacking access to his mentor's dojo, or his own personal retreats of choice, maybe he shouldn't be so surprised that he'd found a new one.

Work kept him busy, with Medical low on staff and so much to do from the rebellion. Fake as it might be, he still found himself putting in long hours and lots of effort to keep things going.

Still, sometimes... especially when you got the worst of news, you had to take a break. And you couldn't be strong forever.

Morgan sat at the edge of the river, staring into the currents, and let himself quietly cry.

Who: Crematia and YOU
Where: Everywhere in the City level, take your pick
Summary: Crematia goes on a stroll. Naked.
Warnings: She is quite possibly the most awful person to grace your presence. Expect her to fling mockery from her behalf, threats, temper tantrums, to even possibly bodily and emotional harm. Watch out.

( Wish you never ever met her at all )

Who: Elle (Courier Six) and YOU
Where: Anywhere you want, though these are specific locations that'll be popping up: Hydroponics, the Garibah Tree, the Public Bathroom in the City, and a wall near the Level 5 Sleeping Halls teleporter. And, for the sake of narration, the Lucky 38. The Drunken Dragon Tavern will be added later!
When: Any time ranging from shortly after the podpops to the past week or so.
Summary: Elle has been occupying herself by exploring the ship, especially the City. I'm going to set this post up in a bit of a weird way, with the OP being a general exploring post, and then threads for specific locations, just to make things clean and easily organized. Feel free to tag into any of the threads unless it's marked as [CLOSED], and you can start your own thread with Elle set in another location of your choosing if you'd like! These settings are just starting points, in a way.
Warnings: None?

( like a straying baby lamb, with no mammy and no pappy )

|| Attention, crew, Attention. All personnel who wish to attend the funeral of Howard Bassem and Cedric Diggory, please report to the Observation Deck. ||

Once again, the Observation Deck is prepared for a sending-off of the dead. A hard pod containing Howard's body sits in the center of the room, with a much smaller pod containing Cedric's wand sitting beside it. The observation window is open, showing the attending crew a stunning view of a nearby fiery red star: the final resting place of the two fallen crew members.

Before the launch, though, there are goodbyes to be said.

Who: Starfire and anyone who wants to join her!
Where: Media Library
Summary: Starfire's received news that her love has returned to stasis in the pod caverns. Her escape is the bright and colorful world of cartoons.
Warnings: Nothing too serious here! Some potential sadness if that line of conversation is followed, but a little fun can be had here.

( Unfortunately, ice cream is not available for this occasion. The brightness and color must come from the little screen. )

Less than an hour after the ship leaves Agrestic's orbit, an announcement is broadcast throughout Stacy.

|| Attention, crew. Your crewmates, Howard Bassem and Charles Merriman, have been apprehended attempting to desert. They will now be given Punishment. According to established guidelines, you are all requested to report to the Observation to witness the Punishment. Attendance is not mandatory, but highly suggested. This will serve as a reminder of the consequences of treason and desertion. ||

On the observation deck, Archon Yavek, Archite Rekkti, two other Daligig and a handful of Kessek soldiers stand outside a spherical force field. Inside the bubble, Orc and Howard are suspended by tentacles looping around their wrists. Orc's ceased thrashing around and struggling against his restraints; rust-colored fissures have developed around his shoulders and forearms from the strain, but now he simply hangs there, looking defeated. Howard's nose is bleeding, and every time a drop falls to the bottom of the forcefield there's a small sizzle. He's weeping and begging the Daligig with every plea possible, but they act as if they aren't listening. Instead, they wait for an audience.

Of all the inane and stupid items to come across in her wanderings...

It stood about chest high on her with little grips on either side and buttons at it's base with familiar faces on it. Tentatively she pushed one of the buttons and sure enough a little doll popped out with her face.

It was far more beautiful a face then she remembered, but then again the game had been designed by people who were loyal to the Fire Nation. And there was no greater hero to the Fire Nation then their princess...except of course the Fire Lord.

Another button press brought her a doll of her brother and she placed them in the pegs on top of the small tower. Their feet clicked into place perfectly. It was like not a day had passed.

With a sullen and half hearted smile she tapped the button once, twice, three times watching the little doll punch her brother in the face. It was oddly soothing.

But how to get it back to the air temple from the city?

People dealt with things in different ways. In Mindy's case, she had continued severing people in the cafe. The hours were rough, her sleep patterns shifted, and she had told herself to take it easy after the ejecting from the Sensoriums by Overlord Zetta. Much like a bartender though, working in the kitchens meant hearing people's conversations, and that led to the topic most people were talking about: the Daligig, the former crew and the inevitable fight for the ship. This wasn't just gossip: it was legit information, and while she could skim over Howard's really long summary, it was Allenby's that hit home. Sure, she had that dumb phobia about tech that was irritating, but she was truthful.

And that meant training time had to happen. NOW.

She didn't waste any time either. Quick to the Sensoriums, Hit Girl costume on and the simulation began ten minutes after intense push ups, stretching and a little running.

She learned something in the past few weeks: the only way to really train yourself was to push, and that push had to keep going and going and make you better. So now she was back again against the Daleks, testing her ability to dodge and run and make things fall on them. Then came that duel with Aqua, where she got much, MUCH better with a blade. Then she was back to attacking SAINTS and the hark robots, making sure there were twice as many.

But the grand finale? Shadow Zetta, unstoppable, merciless, and constantly coming at her. Even in the aftermath of broken robots and a beaten Aqua, she couldn't come close to landing a hit on shadow Zetta that mattered. Yet here she was, going at it again and again, and somehow, the audience were smug looking members of the Daligig, looking like Ceasars at a lion feeding.

Morgan was restless.

When restless, he tended to roam the ship, checking on things he knew of, or seeking out places he didn't out of curiosity. Today was a little of both. After the pitched battle in Hydroponics, he felt a particular obligation towards one plant in particular: the apple tree he'd helped Applejack grow from a seed. For all that he'd done his best to contain Hydroponic in the fight, he hadn't been able to do anything specific to protect that plant.

Done there, he headed back down in the City, off to one particular place that had caught his interest when he had heard about it: an 'air temple'. Not on the map, not listed in the directory, or he'd have wandered over just to take a look a long time ago. Now that he'd heard about it, well...

Time to investigate.

[OOC: Just say where you find him; it can be pretty much anywhere, since his trip covers a lot of ground across the ship.]

Gods could be too arrogant. Such was the case of SHODAN, who had turned the Pods into a nightmarish zone where she could freely amuse herself and torture those that had come here.

But arrogance breeds pride which breeds mistakes. Instead of killing everyone off, she had decided to do this more slowly – watch them suffer in a slow agony, and, therefore had not expected them to fight back.

It had been a lucky shot, really, one in a million, But one of the people present that day had accidentally shot a tiny, insignificant object. A tiny little drone, that, once it had been the source of the power damper, had fallen. The tables were turned, and the goddess had been forced to retreat from the pods.

Now she was on a panicked mode, not only because some of the other people on the ship had managed to work their way into her system files, using another AI to send pointless images and sounds to her, distracting her from her task, but they knew how they could defeat her and gain their powers back.

It didn't take long for the message to be sent out, as the word quickly spread. Find the tiny little creatures, and shoot them down. SHODAN couldn't work their shields properly and once they were found, it was only a short matter of time before the powers returned to an area.

It would take time, but, finally, the tide of the battle was turning on the side of the crewmen and women. In vain, she was throwing her all; even more strange robot creatures, attacking in packs, but with hope on their side, they could win this...

[OOC - OKay go for it! NPC players, feel free to NPC as many robots as you like. Players, once your powers return, feel free to make as much scrap metal as you like, no need to have people NPC for you if you just want to write tags of them kicking ass.]

Morgan had been in Hydroponics when the message first came over the comm system. He had exactly enough time to frown at his omnicomm before the power limiters engaged and the hyperspace compartments in his cloak failed. Like some outtake from a horrible collision of the Matrix and Harpo Marx, the entire contents of that space fell back into normal reality, leaving Morgan in a thigh-deep mound of guns, swords, and an electric guitar.

"Damn," he said, mildly, as he rolled his neck. He glanced off into the distance, quickly judged the amount of time he had till the robots he saw way out there reached him, then spent a few of those precious seconds tossing out a heads-up over the comms for his location.

That done, he dug out the multi-sheath he had made back when he used to carry weapons openly, slapped half-a-dozen blades through it, threw it on, then scooped up a pair of submachine guns.

"Why can't there be an army of good robots for once?" he muttered, flicking off the safeties.

(ooc: feel free to thread together to help Morgan defend against the evil robots. Also, evil robot NPCs are needed here!)

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!]

While this had been a bit of a routine now for as long as he could remember being on the ship, Chris felt more at ease training than anything else. While he still was at risk with his asthma, he wasn't feeling the long winded feeling in his lungs as he did back at home. His lungs were slightly better thanks to his medication, and so he had transformed into Kamen Rider Sting fighting a replica of a mirror monster. This particular one was very reminiscent of a bull. Sting readied himself as he prepared to battle it.

[ooc: Feel very free to interupt him or bother him.]

Since he'd offered to train people, and using the Three Mountain Dojo's image still hit much too close to home to ever be comfortable, Morgan had resummoned his already-holographic mountaintop dojo. The quiet wide-open building sat calmly atop a high mountain peak, the air crisp and thin as it whistled gently through. A stream from a natural spring flowed gently down the cliffside it sat on, forming a pool not far below, around which ran a path flanked by a series of tall, slender poles.

Morgan himself sat with his back against one of the dojo's support columns, idly plucking out some chords on his electric guitar. The complete lack of electricity up here didn't seem to stop his practice one bit.

Let it never be said that Stacy was not benevolent toward her crew. Truth was, she loved them, to the point of risking her own life. And thus, she'd been busy for quite some time... silently she had worked, trying to get into her own archives and cross-checking references. She was going to help boost morale and give them a gift - show them people they cared about, wake them up for a single day as proof that, yes, they were there, close by. She was going to give them a day to awaken, to see their loved ones again and to go back, knowing that their time would come one day or another...

It sounded so beautiful and poetic on theory. In reality, it could become a true disaster. Spent of most of the energies doing this task, in complete secrecy to keep it as a surprise, Stacy's never-ending work was only stopped by its own Warden program, which pulled the plug on the ship's search to find everyone at least someone they cared about. That, unfortunately, left her not only spent of energy which was dangerous in itself - but it also meant that some of the crew would be deprived of seeing their close ones, no doubt leaving some of them bitter.

The road to hell has always been paved by good intentions.

Stacy's voice was decidedly more cheerful than normal as she spoke to the entire ship.

|| Transmigration Nine crew, please report to the Observation Deck. I have a gift for you. ||

She repeated the request, and waited.

Once most of the crew had made their way there, she continued.

||I have been working on a...|| she couldn't quite find the proper word and settled on the next one, || present for you. While many of your records are locked to even me, I have worked to find the pods which contain people close to you. I...apologize if some of you may end up with no one, it is not my fault I...|| suddenly Stacy's voice seemed a little less cheerful, ||The Warden stopped me before I could finish everything completely. Please do not feel like I targeted you specifically, I really did my best to get as many of your friends and companions awake as possible for today.||

Now was the hardest part to explain.

||And that is, unfortunately, all that can be given to you. Because their avia are not yet ready to be properly awakened, they'll be here for a single day. Please make the most of it, so you can feel better and continue our mission with renewed vigor . I hope that meeting those that care about you will give you a boost of energy that you all need.|| Spoken like a mother who put her children before herself. ||But if you can...look at it this way, it means that they are here, and one day I will proudly awaken them properly when they are ready.||

Her voice was becoming strange as she went on. Not static-like, but raspy, like someone who was running out of breath.

||And I am afraid that I must go offline for a few hours due to the strain this is putting on...me...|| It sounded really painful for her to speak, completely spent and only going because she wanted to at least give them a proper last word. ||I...hope...you...will...be...happy...a...lit--||

For the first time in a long while, Stacy was completely silent.

[OOC: GO FOR IT.]

Morgan having made the call for anyone interested in their potential class to come meet them in the city, they awaited everyone who said they would be attending. The location itself, at least, was easily spotted by those looking for it, so Tim had approved the suggestion by Morgan for the meeting spot. And it did have a training room.

Tim himself was willing to give them a window of time to arrive, though he wanted to be organised and punctual enough to not keep people waiting either. At least they were able to mingle with each other in the mean time.

First they would have a meeting for those interested in assisting-- as teachers for specific skills or otherwise-- so that they had a firmer idea of where they stood with what they could teach. After that, of course, was the meeting for interested pupils, to organise. After that, they could get sanction to begin.

((ooc: Appropriate subthreads are up for everyone!))