There was something to be said for the Sensoriums. Sure, they weren't real, but they were quiet and empty of the ruins of dead (or soon-to-be) civilizations if you wanted them to be. That was more than could be said of the rest of the ship.

Here Rose could leave the worries of Stacy's mission and her own at the door, however temporarily, and after another extended stay with GLaDOS, she needed the break. Honestly, she thought the perpetual maze-running was more of a danger to her sanity/soul/whatever than the stress of interdimensional travel. Being forced to do anything never sat well with her, even in the name of mental health, so it was a relief to do as she pleased.

Which, at the moment, was nothing.

The location she had chosen positively radiated calm, silent except for the patter of raindrops. It was an old forest, the kind that took centuries to grow and was peppered with trees five metres across. One of the behemoths had been cut down, the inside eaten away by the elements to form a hollow accessible through a breach in the bark. It was here that she stretched out, eyes closed, heedless of the rain.

If one were to be about the city they might come across a particular orange tom wandering the streets in that self-assured fashion that cats do. Having made himself known in his draconic form Crucible had decided to explore the city in a form that would draw less attention or the very least, a different sort of attention than he would receive as either Bight or Crucible.

His wanderings in his feline form took him far and wide around the city, from the river, and through various streets all the way to the Drunken Dragon. Which he watched from hiding for some time before padding over towards the tavern and in through the front door. Tail flicking as he peered about the place.

(OOC: Feel free to run into kitty!Crucible anywhere in his wanderings about the city or around the Tavern)

It was one exhausted, tired, alien puke-covered, acid blood-burnt group of people that trundled out of the hangar and into the ship proper. Their mission? Had sucked. Their intel had been wrong. Their lives had nearly been forfeit.

But they had survived, mainly by watching each other's backs and shooting or slashed or flamethrowing at every damn thing that moved.

Now it was off to Medbay to tend to their injuries, but after that, maybe they'd finally catch a break.

They had no idea of what had just conspired, other than what they'd learned from Stacy's messages--there had been a traitor, and that traitor had been taken care of.

They had sneaked into the facility and out of the nest. They had gathered whatever equipment they could use as weapons. Now it was time for the rescuers to fight their way in, and the rescuees to fight their way free.

There was only a whole horde of xenomorphs in the way, after all.

In the complex, deeper into it near the core, several of the away team were all strung up near each other, around a clutch of disgusting looking eggs. Two appeared to have already been hatched. The rest were waiting. They were bound to the walls by slime and ick, some sort of substance spit up by the creatures that may as well have been quick-dry cement.

Outside the complex, the rest of the away team had made it to the ship--only to find it damaged. Acid spit up by one of the creature had burned through part of the hull and into important inner workings. They would need someone mechanically inclined, that understood electrical work, to fix it like Jamie--uh oh.

Well, that was a problem wasn't it.

It was time for the one group to try to survive, and the other group to figure out what to do about their missing comrades.

They had all been Chosen. The usual story when it came to Stacy. They'd had no say over who went on the mission, but fortunately a group of competent individuals had been chosen, with Kang, an Away Team leader there to act as mission leader.

The mission: to repair some of the mining mechanisms that had run down in an abandoned terraforming colony, to gather some rare ore with minerals and other substances vital to Stacy's functions. One small chunk would last her for ages.

The planet: LV-428 was a very hostile world, a dead rock with a very weak atmosphere that was comprised largely of Nitrogen, Argon, and Neon. Terraforming efforts had introduced enough oxygen for it to support human life, but only just barely. Due to the violent nature of terraforming on the climate, raging electromagnetic storms often occurred, cutting off all communications.

The intel: Due to a war on Earth, the members of the colony had been recalled back home. The entire place was abandoned, but thought to be safe.

The Mission Personnel: Jamie Hemeros, Kang, Sokka, and Hiccup were on to handle the mechanics ends of the mission. Scarlet Levy was to be their medic, just in case of injuries. Reimi was their pilot. And on the security detail were Tobias, Hap Suriz, Rose Tyler, Setsuna, Kettch, and Stoick. Kang doubled as their away team leader.

Surely this group could handle anything thrown their way. For something as simple as an empty colony, they were almost over-equipped.

...Right?

[ooc: Don't post until I have subthreads set up]

You know, I don't think I've sat through an election before, Roy thinks, pacing slowly down the hallway from the Sensoriums.

His tie is loose, though he's forgotten that he had loosened it while sparring. His sleeves are also rolled up, and though he is aware of this alteration to his proper dress, the heat of this level of the ship has gotten to him. The choice to leave them as they are seems odd to him, and he's worrying about them rather abstractedly. Of course, he's still thinking about the election, as well as a myriad other bothersome, minuscule things, so don't mind him if he doesn't notice you coming around the corner.

It probably doesn't help that his eyes are, oddly enough, trained on the ceiling.

By this point, the Ohm had spread all across the planet.

Destruction spread throughout the cities of Zokez II. There were evacuees that still needed to escape. People that needed saving.

It was time for the crew to do what they did best.

[ooc: Sub-plots! Check here before tagging.]

When she had still been on Earth, Luna had only been allowed into Muggle shops on occasion. Consequently, nearly the second she set foot on Zokez II, Luna was off in a flash of quiet oohing and aahing over restaurants with food made without magic, clothing boutiques sporting dresses and cardigans. She had spent a good two hours in a camera store, asking the clerk peculiar questions about why the people and things portrayed in the photographs of Muggles remain stationary a good amount of the time, and generally disconcerting him and all of his customers.

After quite a bit of vague wandering on the second day, she located a dress that reminded her desperately of home, eyes widening fantastically at the sunflower-patterened cotton, and she had donned it moments after waking the next day.

Sundress wrapped around her slim frame, Luna finds herself in a nice little jewelry shop, full of the semi-well-made, rhinestone-sprinkled baubles and earrings she has always admired during her short sojourns into the non-magical part of London.  Presently, her blue eyes are twinkling at a display of butterfly hair clips with wings that move, tweaking the sparkly bits of metal gently whenever they look like they're about to go still, a little basket with a few sets of earrings and a bracelet beside her on the counter.  As far as anyone can tell, she has fallen in love with the things, and it really doesn't look like she'll be moving anytime soon.

It took a lot to contain the Doctor’s excitement, and they hadn’t even started looking inside the Hangar yet.

The first time he and Jamie had passed by here, they hadn’t ventured far enough inside to warrant any definite recognition of proximity towards his ship. Now that he was here again, of course (and he had his suspicions well fueled), the TARDIS was giving off clear, if not somewhat distant, locating signals. Her distinct signature flitted about his brain like a fly around his ear, making him anxious, energized. She was symbiotically connected to him, after all. Finding her even nonfunctional would be like meeting a long-lost twin sibling, albeit one of a different species that could travel through space and time.

For fear of taking this analogy too far—overuse of extended metaphors can be hazardous to one’s health—the Doctor focused again on the many rows upon rows of impressive looking space fighters, mechas, motor scooters, etcetera, waiting patiently (or not so patiently) for the others to receive his message over the comms. Part of him was worried that Jamie might not make use of the established network as readily as some other crewmembers, but frankly he’d been here long enough to understand how it worked. Besides, the Doctor probably drilled the time and location into his brain while he was pacing around the room the night before, muttering the notice and possible formats to himself as he distractedly took apart his omnicom, put it back together, took it apart again, rearranged some components…

No sleep for weary Time Lords, so the saying goes. Or something like that.

[[ooc: Mainly for the designated Who crew DW characters and those that know about the TARDIS (Kaylee, Billy, Renne, anyone else I haven't mentioned), but if you want to pop in, let one of us know and we'll see what we can do. :3 ]]

Title: Houston, We Have Pounce Off.
Location: Stacy; The Sensoriums




Epiphanies have been known to both be false and sometimes, not so wonderful. However, considering what had so recently transpired, a few things had come to light.

Now, after not only a welcome dose of laughter but a few sneaky bits of white chocolate (Billy, kill him later), there are a couple of impromptu, badly written, badly spelled "signs" done in raised-relief ink scattered about.

"Prince of Pounces. Challenge me, who dares?"

And yes. The Sensorium chamber which currently holds the writer of said messages is suitably fluff-ified and otherwise turned into a chamber ideal for such a challenge.

[[OOC: I blame this on very old logs, tea, chocolate and an intrepid starship captain-times-three. ]]

[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 Initiating|| 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... )

Stacy's voice speaks over the whole of the ship. What she has to say has become very familiar over the the podlings have spent here.

||Pod Release Protocols Initiating,|| she says. ||Please proceed to the Observation Deck to meet your new crew mates.||

Those crew members that don't head to the Obs Deck on their own are hurried there via gentle but insistent tentacles. A few people stop by Engineering to help bring and pass out omnicoms and comm rings to the new crew members as well.

[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.]