There were many flaws involved in having your life uprooted and moved onto an multidimensional-migration-ship-thingie. Chief among them was dependency issues. Addictions. At least, this was chief among them in those with an addiction to nicotine. Sure, the ship cured the physical addiction before it released you, but there were other things involved. There were mental and social components that the ship just couldn't fix.

Luckily, there was one man on the ship who had something to help; when he was popped, Nicholas d. Wolfwood had come across a small device that produced 'syntho-smokes', a clean-burning, odorless solution to all their smoking needs. No smell, no cancer, fake smoke, technically worthless, but you still smoked it like a cigarette and got your nic-fix taken care of. And luckily, this man was Will's roommate.

Of course, he'd gotten the tech guys to duplicate the pack, so he had one as well, but they still bummed from each other all the time. It was just what you did; smoker bonding. There was even a small sign, stolen from a hotel in the city, affixed to their door denoting it as a smoking room.

They just called it The Smoker's Lounge; their room where every smoker on the ship sooner or later found themselves to get their fix.

Sadly, Will hadn't explained any of this to Kala before bringing her to the room (as per their rooming arrangement). He also hadn't told Wolfwood she was going to be staying with them. All things considered, he'd been forgetting to do a lot of important things lately.

But, no time like the present. He looked back to Kala, her hand still in his, as he opened the door to the room and a wall of synthetic smoke poured out.

"Welcome to the Lounge."

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.

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.

He walked into the rather large church, surveying it with a critical eye. Place looked like it had been through a war, but it was the only church he had seen as of yet. He set his cross down near the pulpit, erecting the podium and looking around. The size was a bit much, but he would be able to give sermons from here if he needed to, for those that wanted it. He was just a regular priest here, and mass was something normal priests did.

He walked around the main room a bit before stopping in the middle of the room and lighting a smoke.

"Well, this should work..." He said to himself. "Even if it is all shot to hell. There's also room to live so I can get away from those creepy, veiny walls..." He stopped and turned quickly as he noticed someone else in the room.

Alessa had no real reason to head back to her room once she learned that the Nightmare King was starting to stir. For that reason, she decided to venture into the city, intent on making a stand of her own. She had meant what she said to Nanoha, after all: she would find a way to hurt this god. But the way to do it, the only way, was to create the place she knew best, to make the place of nightmares and screaming real: she had to recreate Silent Hill. It just needed a base.

She quietly started to examine the city, moving from the Vatican to the Statuary and back, looking for what would be perfect. Soon, she found it: an abandoned factory mill, perhaps used to manufacture some kind of plastic, she hardly knew. This place was perfect, however, for what she wanted: a dark place.

She closed her eyes, and a spread of vines started to surround the place. She wrapped the vines tightly around, and her eyes seemed to roll in the back of her head: this was going to take a lot of her strength, and she would have to sleep here in order to get her desired results.

If anyone were to talk by now, they'd be greeting by a fairly amazing sight.

Verbena had always been described as a lush, thick environment with trees covering the mountain sides and rivers twisting through the peaceful valleys that made up the man-made planet. Even if she was just part of the fourth generation to be born on the planet, every square inch of it was rooted deep in Gwendolyn's system. She had lived and breathed running the deer trails chasing after her brothers or swimming in the creeks on the family farm. Maybe it was the reason that she picked it when she got to the Sensoriums- something familiar after the first few days of being on the living ship.

It was a warm summer day on the grounds. Nothing was there that should have been, the horses, the cattle, people milling about working or even her family enjoying tea on the back porch of the plantation style home. All the windows were up and the front door was open allowing the music to spill outward for anyone that wished to investigate. The house was of a simple design and almost out of a picture book of the Old South back on Earth-that-was. It was in the library that the red headed Browncoat was located standing in the middle of the empty room surrounded by history that no one else aside from her probably would care about again. Her bow danced across the strings drawing the notes out from what could easily be a happy tune to something more quieter or sadder depending on the temperament of the listener. The clothing of choice? Not her plantsuit or what bits of uniform that she had, but her dress uniform with rank bars in red on the long coat sleeves.

So lost in the music was she that she probably wouldn't have heard anyone approach if they wanted. Musicians or curious folk alike were welcome, she was in a seemingly good mood enough to talk about what the place was if anyone wanted to.

[ooc: It looks like LJ isn't let me link to the youtube vid of the song she's playing, but it's the Ashoken Farewell.]

[NOTE: This takes place DURING the holiday plot. If your character is involved in that, then they're still on the surface and not on the ship at this time.]

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.

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. The mission is still going on, so if your character is offship, they won't be around for this.]

[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... )