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!]

Which is what Xander was trying to do in his shop at the moment. Recent shore leaves helped him shore up even more supplies. Which was a great thing since it seemed like he was getting orders all the time from people for furniture or help in their homes in the city. Some of the rides on the last one weren't bad. But he had to admit the western themed world was even better. He even got some spurs.

Uh not that he had special plans with those or anything. It's just part of the outfit. Right.

||Attention, Attention. Would the following personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Please bring with you any weapons and tools you might need. Attention, Attention. would the following personnel please report to the Observation Deck:

Allenby Beardsley
Maridian Gladespring
Ellyn Vitner
Red Robin
Sam Winchester
Dean Winchester
Kanoe Zouichi

Attention, Attention, would the following personnel...||

Stacy's voiced called the entire crew, until all of them were gathered at the Obs Deck. Then, a dossier appeared on the screens, along with the image of a rotating planet.

Planet Designation: Geartopia
Status: Terrestrial, H-class.
Non-sentient life: Extensive flora and fauna.
Semi-Sentient Life: Yes.
Sentient Life: Homo Sapiens, Homo Animalia, Machina Erectus.
Water: 20.6% of the planet's surface.
Climate: Earth-like, Arid desert
Landscape: 70% Desert..
Air: Normoxic concentration.
Air Pressure: 101.3 kPa (kilopascals) = 14.7 psi (pounds per square inch)
Sky: Blue
Sun: A class G2V, yellow star.
Warnings: Wildlife, humanoids and plant-life can be hazardous.
Mission: Find out of town mayoress Nomalanga's suspicions of foul play are correct. Full shore leave will initiate once this is problem is resolved.

( The situation at hand )

[And done! There is no posting order, feel free to all start you own threads to ask questions, or butt in each other's threads while they talk back and forth]

||Attention, Attention. All personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention. All personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention, all personnel...||

Stacy's voiced called the entire crew, until all of them were gathered at the Obs Deck. Then, a dossier appeared on the screens, along with the image of a rotating planet.

Planet Designation: Happy Happy Fun World
Status: Terrestrial, H-class.
Non-sentient life: Medium flora and fauna. Primarily domestic.
Semi-Sentient Life: Yes.
Sentient Life: A significant number of species of intelligent life.
Water: 25% of the planet's surface.

Climate: Climate varies by region.
Landscape: Landscape has been significantly terraformed and is highly varied.
Air: Normoxic concentration: 29% oxygen, 60% nitrogen, 3% xenon, 6% trace gases, such as hydrogen, krypton, and argon.

Air Pressure: 14.352 pounds per square inch.
Sky: Pink with white clouds.
Sun: A class D4K, yellow star.

Warnings: Crew should be cautious when consuming the popcorn.

Mission: None. Shore leave is now initiated.

Hey, what's not to like about a planet called 'Happy Happy Fun World'?

[[ooc: Time for Shore Leave! Post reactions to the announcement here]]

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. They are also told they must read information about their current situation and a survival guide with their new omnicom. New crew-mates might see a tall dragonish guy with wings (but don't call him that) and purple girl among their number. There are also several authoritative-looking figures ready to introduce themselves.

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.]

Dean had switched off on tracking the Dalgig for the time being, and other Security were keeping an eye to the other visitors. Only stopped by the Brig for some prisoners to get their walking papers.

He stopped by the Observation Deck, but there was nobody there to see. Why would there be? Mom and Dad were long gone, couldn't save Adam. Cas wasn't around anymore either. Would have been good seeing Bobby, or maybe even Ellen or Jo, but of course, never get that lucky. Old Winchester luck again, screwed, blue and tattooed.

He decided to head down to the Sensoriums. Part of the reason he wanted to compile information on the all of the past threats to the Ship was to set up a training program to develop strategy, and best methods for taking them out. Right now, he got some details on the giant bugs that some of the oldest crew dealt with. Which meant busy pumping shotgun shells into one. His eyes were singularly focused, his expression hardened.

This was easier. Just focus on doing his job, don't bother with any of that other crap. Who needed it? Certainly not him.

Run by: Tetra
NPCS: Everyone

 The battlefield in the space above Lirath was a tumultuous mess. being both inviting targets for barrage in and of themselves, and also forcing the GIA ships to stay in close to protect them instead of allowing for more maneuvering room. The ice ring around Lirath had been blasted apart, resulting in giant chunks of ice drifting through fire- and sight-lines, providing opportunities for both cover and ambush as well as destruction for the dog-fighting ships weaving in and out of their treacherous paths. The wreckage of GIA and Ohm ships made movement through the battlefield downright hazardous -- who knew if there were still live weapons aboard any of them, just waiting to be tripped by an unwary pilot? The gravitational forces of the nearby planet Kehoe were an unwelcome addition to an already chaotic battlefield, making navigation difficult.

Ohm shrikes strafed the bare handful of GIA capital ships present, causing soundless explosions in the vacuum of space and killing who-knew-how-many allies of Transmigration 9's crew in the process.The GIA fighters seemed barely able to dent the massive Ohm Leviathans that brooded over the planet like bloated, predatory spiders, and those that were still flying were massively damaged, hulls scorched by plasma fire, some barely held together with parts of them vented into space. In some places there were things that looked like clouds of specks-- groups of dead GIA crewman, lost to the void.

Before long, new Ohm bioforms would enter the fray, ones created to compensate for the ship's mecha.

In this scattered and scorched battleground, Starfighter Command would have to fight Ohm ships side by side with the exhausted forces of the GIA, braving massive chunks of ice, wreckage, and of course, the seemingly never-ending forces of the Ohm.

And the tide of battle was already turned against them.

[ooc: wait for subthreads to be set up before posting.

Subthreads open: 
First Wave and Second Wave, both open!]

Nervous? Why should he be nervous? They talked before (kind of), they even married (though only for a mission mostly), and slept together( weirdest night EVER). Everything should be great. Full of song and dance... wait no, that's bad because that way leads to people burning up and he already apologized a million times for that demon.

Right, so it's sort of a date. Kind of. Maybe. Well it's just the two of them walking around and talking, it's harder to do the traditional dinner and a movie on the ship. There's not a Bronze-like place to hang out or a coffee place for coffee. Sooo ok, maybe this isn't a great idea, but Sam seemed to like it. He definitely liked it, so it's good.

Good.

Now about the knocking on the door part. He should really do something about that.

(OOC: After Sam's thread, gawkers, popcorn eaters, and the like are welcome to be peanut gallery to comment or run into them.)

The Precinct had been hopping of late with people needing to be sent to the Brig. Dean hated how short handed they were between people getting re-podded and the mission taking a good chunk of the crew. Left the rest of them with a skeleton group and a lot of newcomers thanks to the recent podpop. He was still struggling with going over notes and reports from previous attacks. Trying to put together as much information as he could and catalog it all. If he got it right, it'll be a great help for any future incidents and at least give other Security a starting off point of where to go.

Plus it gave him a chance to bury his troubled emotions into something, but he was clearly running himself ragged of late. He hadn't been at the house much, mostly sleeping fitfully at his desk the few times he slept. Plus meals been mostly of liquid content though he was avoiding the tavern for the most part for personal reasons.

He just hoped some of the new members could lend a hand or two.

(!NOTE: This is available for people in the brig to thread as well)

As the Clock was destroyed, all of the stolen time rushed back to it's original owners, causing them to rapidly age back to normal. But as the crew would soon notice, it seemed that the stolen time didn't always go back to exactly the right place...

[[ooc: Time to get back to normal guys! This is basically a case of very rapid ageing - they'll basically speed through the years through about a couple of minutes or so. Of course, everyone won't get back to exactly the right time - most will only be out by a pretty insignificant amount of time (such as a few minutes, or hours, or days, etc - depends how close significant events are to the point they're from.) For those who are using this to change canon point, they're going to end up at a different point, obviously]]

Dean as a boy had been mostly sticking around the house, but he just had to get out for a little bit. He wanted to grab something from the media library, though it looked like they didn't have much of comic books there. That sucked. He found a few things to take back, when he suddenly changed again.

The boy of eleven years old was suddenly noticeably smaller and younger still. A towheaded boy of four, quiet and withdrawn. He rubbed his eyes with puzzlement as he glanced around. He knew the hallways and at the same time, he didn't. Where's his daddy or his baby brother? He's supposed to be with them, and they're not here. He looked upward and around, and started to sniffle.

Dean had made sure to keep himself to the house. He was too worried about the next time he'd lose more memories to do much on the house expansions for now. It meant he spent his time pacing around like a caged tiger.

And then things shifted again. His hair became more mussed up, and his hands looked abraded and bleeding, like somebody who had to claw out of a coffin and the ground. He glanced around, trying to realize where he was. It wasn't Bobby's, and yet it seemed familiar. Everything was mixed up.

Sammy, he had to find his brother. Had to see him again after so long.

(ooc: closed, but open to anybody who'd be by the house or know the Winchesters well.)

Karen was still a little nervous around Kang, and quiet, even after spending a couple of days with him, and he couldn't really blame her. At least she wasn't terrified of him anymore, and she wasn't all that difficult to watch over. He'd even managed to find a few things to help keep her entertained in Possessions (the Fairplay memories were definitely coming in handy in this case; he wouldn't have known what type of things human children typically liked to do otherwise).

He had duties at the tavern, though, and decided to bring her along with him. She'd offered to help him out, but there really wasn't anything a child as young as her could do, so he'd handed her some paper and crayons and set her up at a table next to the bar, asking her to draw some pictures for the tavern. That way, she was occupied and out of the way, and still felt that she was doing something to help.

He made sure to keep an eye on her as he went about his usual business, checking up on her every now and then to make sure she wasn't bored.

After everyone and all of their ships were properly loaded the Quarter had launched successfully. The journey from Stacy to the Trojan Asteroid field trailing NiSaris took several hours, but they managed to approach the field with the people of the nearby world being none the wiser.

The problem was that the NiSarians weren't the only ones watching the skies.

As the Quarter approached and entered the asteroid field, all was quiet. But it was only going to be a matter of moments before that would change.


((ooc: See this post for instructions, but otherwise, have at it, and have fun.))

Because whoever it was? Dean wanted to punch them in the face. Bad enough there was some drunk bearded guy in a ratty old robe writing about his and Sam's lives. But there's people actually writing even more stories about them.

Together. Doing stuff. To each other.

Pondering this particular revelation had Dean tearing through items in the Media Library just to made sure there was no sign of those damn freaking Supernatural books by 'Carver Edlund' or worse, fan fiction. No, even worse, slash fan fiction.

(ooc: Dean's de-aging is definitely progressing now, but it hasn't got that far to be noticeable. Feel free to point and laugh at the guy freaking at the meta.)

He kept his eyes closed the entire time, once he regained control of them. It wasn't that he didn't want to see, it was just that there was some sort of childish belief that if he opened his eyes, the entire thing would pop like a bubble and just be a dream.

He really didn't want it to be a dream.

About the time his eyes closed, hands closed tight around his shoulders, holding him firmly in place. Iniss didn't really need to, but the Yeerk was weird about control at times. Weird about physical dominance even though the fake host was really about the same size as him.

There was a sharp pang in his chest as the Yeerk pulled away for the final time-something he didn't want to call loss, something he couldn't quite label relief. "It's done. Now what will you do?" The words were soft, hushed, pressed against his ear in a mockery of an intimate embrace. "You'll miss me. You'll miss being able to yield control and not fight back. You know you will. You'll miss the utter certainty that someone else is there to clean up your messes."

He kept his eyes closed, arms hanging lose at his sides. "It's going to be scary, isn't it? Being all alone in your head, you've never done that before. No one to talk to when you have doubts, no one to watch your back or protect you from repercussions when you screw up- and you will, you always do - I bet that terrifies you, doesn't it?" He swallowed, lips curling into a smile. "I have friends, family. They'll help me. They'll be strong when I can't be. Who's going to help you?"

It took a lot of effort to pull away, not opening his eyes to look at Iniss, not opening them at all until he was sure he was facing towards Sam.

He managed to not look back. It made him feel oddly proud.

ooc: Tag under the headers of person you want to talk to.

Xander found the selling memories guy too creepy. The only memories he would consider selling would be those fake ones from the fake older Xander guy who helped up screw up his first wedding. And he was trying not to think too much about the second wedding, even though he had been helping the Winchesters with the home improvements. Sam was still mostly clueless, and he was getting tired of Dean's glares.

At least there's another shore leave with plenty of housewares shops with supplies for guys who like to build. As long as you got the dough. Still the allowance Stacy offered helped a lot with getting much needed equipment for his shop. There were some fun power tools in one shop that looked promising. Also a socket wrench set that would make the Tool Time guys weep with joy.

For those looking hard enough, the black market on XaXing shouldn't be too incredibly difficult to find - just look for the section of town where people don't look excited to be trading. Everyone in this little section of the market either looks like they just got away with a murder and need to keep glancing over their shoulders, or like they're about to get lined up for an execution. The more experienced traders here are clearly more at ease and looking as casual as possible, but there's still a distinct tension in the air.

An alien clearly designated as a police officer gazes down the street but, after a shopkeeper passes him and discretely slips some contraband into his hand, keeps walking.

An Iskoort and a human man dressed in black are relaxing outside the door to a store titled "Merchandiser, Brother of Hood Ornament Seller, Offers Exotic and Tantalizing Goods from the Far Corners of the Galaxy!". Under that sign, a few more signs detail how no background checks, down payments, identifications or collaterals are necessary. From inside the building, the sounds of a scuffle are audible, followed by the sound of someone choking.

The man in the doorway taps his cane against the window. "Keep it down in there!"

The Iskoort, Merchandiser, looks around a bit skittishly. {If you would allow me to purchase a sample of your superpowers, I could incinerate the body. I would pay a very reasonable price.}

"And leave nothing for your Mortician's Guild to clean up? Hardly."

Across the street, the shop that supposedly sells cactus extracts, but secretly specializes in drugs and hit contracts, lowers their blinds a few inches.


(( OOC: Here, have a criminal underworld! Feel free to tag in and run into other crew members ("what are you doing looking at faerie slaves?"), or into one of the underworld gurus here. If you want one of my NPCs to tag you, just put it in your post title. NPCs are Merchandiser and Dark Thomas Casey. ))

The way things kept going with frequent visitors, and how their little family was increasing all the time now... Well the place was just getting too small. So Dean had started working on expanding out some rooms. He went over some plans with Xander recently. (Following a stern talking to about his brother, and how weird the idea of having a possible brother in law now was to all parties. A few threats were made and noted before he finally tabled the topic for the time being.)

The sound of hammering could easily be heard in their part of the city. Furthermore, between the humid temperature of the ship, and exertion from the construction project, Dean was now working shirtless with jeans and boots.

In the forge, Daja was working on the final touches of the sword she was forging for Ronnae. Soon the weapon would be complete and Daja would pass it on to Aibghalien for further enchantments. She was intensely proud of the work she had done on it - it was a beautiful weapon, and she knew that it would be glorious in Ronnae's hands.

But all projects must come to an end. Soon, she would need new work to occupy her time. For now, she focused on her work.