Title: In Nomine Magister
Location: Stacy; The Sensoriums



In every sound, there's the light

Renne stood in a Sensorium chamber that at first, appeared bare. In the mood he was in, it didn't take long to think the place into something more appropriate and with it, he brought his formal Naming Robe.
It was what he had in place of proper worship attire.

In every stone, sleeps a crystal

The chamber was soon alight with crystal growths, pale, fine-grained sand and surrounded by a soft, sacred kind of light. The place was one of the many worship places he'd known within his city in the L'Langiniar foothills. It was one the Land People and the Under People would have designed together.
And in it, he placed his own altar to his own gods.

Remember the Shaman...

To the god of Christendom, there lay its holy book.
To ODIN Himself, lay the feather He had blessed Renne with.
To Eilistraee and Yemaya and Shakti lay shells and blossoms.
To Those of his people, stood transparent crystals alight, filled with a diaphanous, ever-fluid liquid smoke.
To an ancient sage and his Ranger-children...

....Renne held that in his hands, growing the crystal himself with a memory and a piece of his Homeworld's rarest mineral.

After countless hours of training with Rangers and tending to the Engineering department's needs, Billy found that he needed a break. Not necessarily for very long, just a space to clear his head (and train, for in Billy-world wasted time is a terrible thing---especially when one has to fight the Ohm in a few days).

Which meant traveling to a Sensorium, capable of being as quiet as he needed it to be. For the setting he chose a simple beach with fine sand, waves rolling quietly in the background. A flat mat lay over a section of the sand, waiting for him to practice on it. Excellent.

Changing into a comfortable blue training outfit, Billy began a quiet routine. First, the warm-up exercises. Light jogging, then stretching. He then moved onto katas, with some techniques from home and others adapted from the combat training. As always, he started slowly and stumbled a little, but before long he found himself settling into his pattern. Without onlookers judging, he felt much more relaxed and willing to push himself. A computerized voice in the background, his subconscious need for feedback, came floating through the chamber to egg him on: Go on, Billy. Try it. You'll be fine.
( And he tries... )

Like Commander Rahk had promised, he'd set up one of the sensoriums so he could teach the crew how to use the GIA equipment they'd be receiving, so he sent out a quick message to the crew to let them know it was ready.

Those arriving would find he's created a simulation of what seems to be a standard GIA training field, judging by the writing on the nearby buildings. The first thing they'd come across is the firing range, which had racks of the plasma weaponry Rahk had mentioned nearby. Not far away were small landing pads, each of which holding a waiting Bluestar Dropship. A little ways away from that, in a small open area, stood a handful of the Bio-Golems, stock still and waiting for orders.

Rahk himself was waiting near the firing range, ready for the first crew members to arrive.

Title: Adaptive Learning
Location: Stacy; The Sensoriums




Renne had hoped his message through the communication systems had been clear. Having given this much thought, he'd sent the message in hopes that he could offer something useful, even if only once, to those he calls crewmates.

For perhaps the hundredth time, he mulls over his plans as he stands in a Sensorium chamber; the place left utterly pitch black.

He'd asked for all light in here to be eliminated. He'd asked for enhancements, magical or otherwise in here to be nullified.

His intent is to teach the meaning of true-blindness and how to function when under its eternally dark veil.

Title: Speak Up, You
Location: Stacy; Media Library




It could be said about him that he has a nearly insatiable desire to learn. While it is the truth, even he has his rough spots. Particularly, when trying to wrap both his mouth and his mind around this language called English.

Once, years ago, he could speak it fairly decently. Then again, once, years ago, he could have (and had the desire to), turn his appearance into something less....frightening. Still he had never refused to acknowledge the necessity of language, and he doesn't do so now.

The only thing is has any desire for is that English not be so blasted difficult.

As the ship was going about its normal business of the day, everything is interrupted when Stacy broadcasts a message to the crew.

||Attention, crew. Your crew mate, Big Zero, has acquired 15 Violations. Therefore, she will now be given Punishment. According to the guidelines in place for Punishment, you are hereby requested to report to the Observation Deck to view the procedure. Though it is not mandatory, it is suggested you attend anyway.||

||It will serve as a reminder that there are consequences to breaking the rules.||

For those brave souls who decide to attend, they'd find Big Zero strung up, dangling from the ceiling of the Obs Deck by her hands, surrounded by a spherical force field.

It was to prevent anyone from...interfering.

[ooc: Warning, this post will contain some rather graphic imagery. Obviously, you don't have to participate in this thread if you don't want to. If your character would ICly go but you personally don't want to know all the nasty details, ping one of the mods and we'll give you the watered down version for your pup to work with.]

Big Zero had mostly kept to herself. She was busy plotting certain people's demise and reprogramming. A big part of dropping off the radar was simply for safety reasons. But when she went out she spent time in the Special Weapons Lab working on, well, things that weren't weapons. She wasn't that stupid. If she didn't give them a good reason, they couldn't refuse a member of the crew. Certainly not someone as productive as she was.

So with all the confidence of someone with antisocial/narcissist personality disorder, she strolled into the lab and quickly started work on Egghead mark II. Frankly, it was a lot harder building the damn thing from scratch.

[[OOC: Big Zero post, standard warnings apply. Filthy language, Neo Nazi. Also she will probably be hitting Punishment this post so threads might have to be bendy timed a little (later ones go earlier). My tags will be slow as I have one paper to seriously work on starting tomorrow and I'm running in to pain issues today. Agh sorry for tl;dr]]

Title: Paths of Redemption
Location: Stacy; The Command Center




Recovery had been slower than he'd liked but it had come. Having gone through the Trances more than once, Renne had been able to mend most of the damage to his body and keep a watch on his Lifestone. With the thing entrusted to Jamie, questions had risen in his mind -- How would it react? What would it do?

The questions had turned seamlessly into thoughts of his Bondeds.

A song had begun to take shape in his head and he crawled, then slowly walked without really thinking of which route he was following until he'd reached the place. And he hadn't dared go too close to the building that to him, was the holiest of them all.


Thus, on his knees he now sits with both paws raised in the air, his head bowed and his voice singing a soft song of worship to a trapped wizard he sees as a god.

[ooc: PLOT POST IS HERE! Read it!]

He stalked through the hallways like a shadow, moving too quickly for anyone to keep a bead on him for long. There almost seemed to be a purpose in his movement as he made his way through the dark corridors of the ship, though it was impossible to tell where he was headed. Perhaps the young man whose body had been hijacked was exerting some kind of control, or perhaps Veronica was doing the driving.

Whatever the case, the Tyrant made his way to the City.

He emerged from the tunnels and into the wide open space, at last free of the cramped hallway. He took a few steps into the streets and sniffed the air, smelling human blood. He roared, a horrible and twisted noise, then headed into the streets.

She demanded they all bow to her. They were little more than prey for the Queen in the grand scale of things. These thoughts rang hollow in a primal mind, though, but he knew what he had to do.

They would all die.

Title: Fall Over and Die Laughing
Location: Stacy; Anywhere






Hallowe'en. He'd dabbled into the holiday once before but never into any detail. Now though, after a day of study, someone decides on a little bit of fun. The easy part had been deciding what to do, especially after the party in the Sensoriums a while ago. The hard part had been procuring the material.

But, it had been done and now, there's a blue-purple ghost haunting the ship. Beware, the purple ghost!

Aside from her son, the thing Eva's most excited to find is that the media library has some of Jorge Luis Borges' classic works. Pulling Dreamtigers up on the pad, she sits in a corner of the media library and tries to unwind. Her conversation with Dani has made her wildly angry, and since there's no paperwork for her to attack, no people on the other ends of telephones to verbally battle, no Peter to listen to her vent and rage, she can only think of two ways to ameliorate the burn: literature and wine. And she doesn't have wine.

"'You suffer captivity, but you will have given word to the poem.' God, in the dream, illumined the animal's brutishness and he understood the reasons, and accepted his destiny; but when he awoke there was only a dark resignation in him, a valiant ignorance, for the machinery of the world is far too complex for the simplicity of a wild beast," she reads aloud to herself every few paragraphs.

A passerby might find her actions unusual or annoying, as she drums her finger on the table, taps her feet against the floor and speaks as she reads. Occasionally she talks to herself, "what do you think, Eva?" or taking the dead author to task over whatever statement catches her eye. She alternately scrunches her nose and bites her lip. Anything to remind herself, as always, how blessed she is to still be in motion, to have a voice again with which to say anything or nothing.

The familiar words she used to read, before Yeerks and wars and violence, before even parenthood and certainly before Stacy, are soothing. Even as the words nestle up and awaken the darker memories of her history. Even without wine or Peter or paperwork or purpose.

"Dante, filled with wonder, knew at last who he was and what he was, and he blessed his bitter sufferings. Tradition has it that, on waking, he felt he had been given - and then had lost - something infinite, something he would not be able to recover, or even to glimpse, for the machinery of the world is far too complex for the simplicity of men."

Eva smiles sadly and pretends to dog-ear the imaginary page.

Title: Gonna Be a Man Someday
Location: Stacy; The Sensoriums





"Never use such power for personal gain. Never escalate a battle unless forced to."

He'd spent many hours in thought after the Time, thinking of what he'd known. How it all had changed and how fast it was changing. When his mind had come onto the thought of Billy and his coming team, Renne had smiled a little.

And he'd gone to the Sensoriums.


The Code echoes within the room like a mantra. Whispered and spoke aloud, Renne moves as he knows against a squadron of creatures that appeared as a crossbreed between a putty and a Drow warrior. The chamber had been designed to resemble one of the many L'Langiniar rock faces that the Mountain People had lived so well on.
He could not be, but he could bring them honour.

"Never use such power for personal gain. Never escalate a battle unless forced to..."

Bruises all over, a black eye and pretty tender ribs later, Katara was in the med bay, a little surly that she had to stay here and hadn't had the chance to heal herself. She was more bothered that Alex had to go through all of this though: he was still morose at losing Luna, and when one got down to it, so was she. She missed her friend, but worse off Alex had actually LIKED her in that way. It had hurt her more to see him suffering than any blow he'd given her.

And right now, besides all of this, she REALLY wanted to know that Renne was around. There was a panic in her, thinking that she might never see Renne again. She really, really hoped he was okay.

Billy? I'm in medbay. Can you hear me? Please tell me Rene's okay, or just visit, will you?

Title: Mortalities I: When Fires Go Out
Location: Stacy; The Sensoriums
Warnings: This can and may well get a little graphic and appears to the untrained eye as "suicide". Please, do not read any further if you are younger and/or sensitive audience.





( Mortalities )

Title: A Day in the Life...On a Meatship
Location/s: Stacy; Anywhere
Notes: Taking a leaf out of another brilliant mind's book here, so Kudos to Senor Paco, King of Spicy Food. Takes place at various times in a typical day of Renne, so tag with where you wanna catch him: Exploring anywhere/playing hero with his plushies, Sensoriums failing at karate or Media Library trying to better his English.




10:00 AM
The Sensorium chamber's alive with sound this morning. Well all right, so it's just the sound of one life-form. The Sensorium chamber resembles...a really, really badly attempted design of...Is this supposed to be a proper Dojo or a Command-Center mashup gone nuts?
Either way, Renne's warming up, practising to refine his walking, running and general bipedal motor skill -- which turns into a laughable bumbling of what could be called martial arts. Actually, no, it can't. It's too clumsy for that. That's why he has his beloved Book-Listening Device rambling through a martial arts-type of book. The problem? He's not doing very well at this.
At all.

1:30 PM
The Media Library's a nice place to study or to learn. And for the last few minutes, he's been here listening to anything he could get his paws on, specifically, to try and better his English. Whether that's going well or not is up to the judgment of anyone that might care to walk in.

4:15 PM
Having had a long day of studying various things -- success or not, he'd worked his little brain off -- Renne's taking a bit of a break. Wandering the halls, exploring to his proverbial heart's content. And with him? Of course, his plushies and yes, he's talking to them both, occasionally playing Hero-type games with them. Billy!Plushie and Archie!Plushie always go along for Renne's crazy adventures.

Night in the City led the Overlord to discover a grim and horrible truth:

Getting your mope on as a book is pretty darn difficult.

That knowledge frustrated him -- and since the prime source of his frustration was his frustration, it fed into the horrible cycle of irritation that had at last boiled over into a grouchy Overlord perched atop a pillar he'd had his minions haul over specifically for the purpose of perching upon as a suitable location to be a grouch.

The Overlord simply didn't have a nature that lent itself to frustration. From the beginning, he'd set his goal and fought for it -- and had done so for well over thirty thousand years. He had, in fact, achieved a goal beyond that of anyone else in the universe, and it had felt good. Damn good. Like nothing else imaginable!

"And now here I am!" the book said, out loud to the black and empty sky. "It's not being the damn book that bothers me. I can deal with that. I'm still the most badass freakin' Overlord in the cosmos. But give me a damn ENEMY to fight!

"Agh, this sucks!" Zetta made a motion that didn't work as a book, wobbled, and nearly fell off the pillar. Some choice words filled the air in place of his formerly magnificent monologue.

He hated this. He hated feeling frustrated. He hated feeling grumpy. He wouldn't stand for this sort of feeling in someone else! Go out there and DO something, he'd say!

But damn it all, he was already the most badass Overlord to be had! And a book! Where was he supposed to go from here?!

((Edit: Posts in the Giant Rumble thread cover the time period in which Zetta and Nanashi have gone off to brawl; characters who are spying on this should post there. The post in general still remains open.))

Sometimes it was one thing after another with this crew. Other times, it was several things at once, as evidenced by the most recent series of events.

But Leon had to handle all of it. He was in the big chair now, literally in this case. He was in the Captain's Office, located just off the main bridge. It was fairly sparsely decorated, but had one hell of a view of the Bleed.

Not that Leon was taking too much time to enjoy it, he had a lot of work to do.

Title: Meaningful Things
Location: Stacy; The Sensoriums





The nightmares had woken him up again. For the third time in what was supposed to be his current sleep cycle, Renne had woken up literally screaming. He'd become familiar with these nightmares in the last three years but this was certainly a case of familiarity breeding contempt. Or, more aptly, familiarity breeding hate.

In his third time screaming awake and finding himself crying into his plushie, Renne had paled, the blushed, fearing he might have woken his roommate. That wouldn't do.

That wouldn't do at all.


Wandering aimlessly around the ship for a while, Renne eventually finds himself within a Sensorium chamber. Still clinging to his plushie, he sits down in the "blank" room to think. To think of his heroes, his enemies, the betrayers and the saviour.

When his mind calms enough, Renne smiles a little to his plushie.

"Rrrr-enne ma-ke prrres-ent fohrrr Bee."

How could he sleep with all of this on his plate?

( Last time at the command center... )

Could he really build morphers and distribute them? With his original friends absent and increasingly unlikely to be released by Stacy, that meant creating a new team from the crew members here. It was a thought that had a list of implications increasing every second. Clearly, this fledgling idea in the back of his mind would require some careful consideration before he acted.

This thought process, he believed, would be a little easier away from this place that contained so many memories. After copying the blueprints to his omnicom and gathering the raw materials he found, he exited the Command Center and made his way up to the observation deck. It was late at night, and therefore unlikely to be very crowded. That was a good sign, he thought, but late night conversation wouldn't exactly hurt him either.

Billy found a comfortable meat-couch and started tinkering with this first Green morpher, allowing his worries to sink to the back of his mind. From what he had seen on the blueprint, this Power granted weaponry far more versatile than his own. There would not be arsenal envy with the new Green Ranger if he went through with this, Billy told himself.