||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]

They had been trained and now they were all on Oa together, periodically dispatched to go on missions for the war effort. It was not entirely unlike being on Stacy, and many of the expectations were the same. They were to look out for their fellow Lanterns, defend themselves, and try to defend the innocent.

It was becoming readily apparent that certain things were not right on Oa, though. The Zamarons seemed to be hiding something within their crystalline headquarters, and the Oans themselves only relayed information through Green Lanterns to the crew, and seemed to be brusque even when talking to their own people.

There were whispers of discontent and concern among the Corps on Oa.

The briefing was, well, brief, given the complicated situation they were being thrust into. Stacy tried to give them as much as she could but apparently her intel on this universe was rather limited.

For this reason, they were dumped rather unceremoniously on a vast planet, with grassy green fields, the dropship that dropped them off retreating on autopilot and disappearing back into the transdimensional ether. It was a lovely planet at the very least, with vast deep blue skies, teeming with vegetation, but oddly, they all would likely find themselves dealing with the unnerving inkling feeling that they were somehow being watched. There were no sentients or even animals in site, however.

The only thing they could do right now was wait. They had been told that they would be found, that they would be offered rings, taken into these different Corps of people, and they they needed to make sure the war ended in a way that didn't devastate life in this universe.

That was something of a tall order.

[ooc: Go!]

Despair was a funny thing sometimes, in that it could be all-encompassing, overwhelming. It could fill your entire being like water dripping down into the grooves and craters of a pockmarked surface, creating a flat uniform plane of itself.

He hadn't quite felt this way at first. First, he'd just been numb. He'd been numb when he'd tried to give Jeka his flight ring and she refused and as Jeka had been taken away to the pods for healing after what his mother had done to her. He'd been numb as he was given medical treatment and turned away all visitors, including Brenda. He'd been numb when facing the Council and demanding he be imprisoned for what he'd done to Daniel and Punchy and the others. He'd been numb in their face of their compassion and insistence that he didn't need to be locked up, that probation and psychiatric treatment and monitoring were enough in light of his guilt and his treatment of his mother.

When he heard the news that Punchy had died before he had the chance to thank him for trying to save him, for talking him down out of despair at the lowest moment of his entire life, that was ironically when the despair came back full force. It felt terrible.

It also felt good to feel, to not be like his mother. That was the fine line between them, thin as the edge of a knife but a difference that, like the edge of a knife, cut down deep to the bone. His mother wouldn't have shed a tear over the death of Matthew O'Connor, but curled up in his cot in the Brig, Querl Dox wept wretchedly over the passing of the most ridiculously-named superhero he'd ever known.

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.]

With the Council having laid down the groundwork with the Daligig to gain their trust in the uprising, the crew prepared to put on a show, and the Daligig at their wit's end and impatient with the crew of the Transmigation 9, it was time to act.

The plans were clear. Allenby would be leading some of the crew in what looked like a hotheaded attempt the attack the Daligig and Kessek and oust them off the ship. Those that wanted to stay out of the fighting and take a neutral position of some kind were to make sure they stayed safe or acted their parts as the horrified crew-members that wanted everyone to make peace. And of course, anyone else was going to play a roll in pretending to side with the Council and the Daligig to put their fellow crew members down (without hurting them) making it look like it wasn't a clear-cut issue, so the Council could get the command codes necessary to start the crew's true takeover of the ship.

More observant members of the crew had noticed where the Daligig, Ghyll, and Kessek had been entering and leaving the restricted areas of the ship. The attack was to start at one of those entrances, as the fake rebels tried to storm in and take on the Daligig forces. After that, as the Kessek were drawn into the ship itself to put down the rebellion, it was going to be a free-for-all, a faux civil war of sorts, as flashy and convincing as they could make it without anyone actually dying.

Lights! Cameras! Action, people! It was time to put on a show and hope it was convincing enough for the Daligig to give the crew what they needed to truly be free.

[ooc: Go Go Go!]

||Attention. Attention. Volunteers are requested for a mission. This mission will require active combat in a controlled environment against other sentient beings as well as fellow crew members. No fatalities are expected. Successful participation may be rewarded with increased personal power. Successful completion will result in increased resources for crew usage. Volunteers report to the Observation Deck.||

( For those that choose to answer... )

Who: Allenby and open
Where: Pod caverns
Summary: Allenby is pissed at being abruptly short a best friend.
Warnings: Some cursing.

( This is not one of them. )

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. )

Despite the uproar that had taken place only a day earlier, it was all quiet at the Susono Inn. Well... mostly quiet, anyway. It was home to some of the most stubborn crew members on the ship, almost all of whom had gotten involved in the brawl with the Kessek.

Allenby's arm had been broken. Simon had taken a hard one directly to the ribs. Zouichi would probably take a week to get back to real fighting form.

And Howard... well, it would probably take Howard a while to recover from what had happened.

[Visitors welcome!]

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.

There was a lot of cleaning up to do after SHODAN and her robot armies had been defeated. Among the structural damage was parts of the Drunken Dragon Tavern: the store room and everything in it had been utterly destroyed, the pots that had rarely been used on-ship were strewn around the kitchen, and a couple of tables, one bench and a chair, and a portion of the stage needed repairs. The building next door that Kang used for half of his storage and called home had managed to escape relatively unscathed.

He had sustained some damage himself, with a few minor cuts and bruises, and a rough hole slightly larger than an orange missing from the membrane of his right wing. It hadn't healed completely yet, and the bandages didn't hide it very well at all.

He had personal matters to attend to before reconstruction could begin, though. Two draconians had been killed in the pod caverns, two that he'd known personally; they had served under him for over thirty years when he'd been Commander of the First Dragonarmy Engineering Regiment. Unlike the others that had been killed, there was nothing left of them. Vlemess, as a kapak, had melted into a pool of acid, and Urul the baaz had turned to stone, and then dust.

It was customary, because of the nature of draconian deaths, to simply place a headstone along with any personal possessions that could be salvaged. Sakura had helped Kang procure two suitable stones from the wreckage of the Great Wall, and he'd decided to place them in the little herb garden Kali had started before she'd gotten repodded (said garden hadn't been cared for since). It was visible from the tavern, and he felt that it was appropriate to have them near a piece of home.

He knelt down to clear a space on the north side of the garden, digging shallow holes for Urul's belt and one of Vlemess's bracers. He'd gotten lucky in finding their few possessions in the lockers.

[OOC: He invited/mentioned it to anyone that he counts as family or a friend, but it's cool for others to stop by too if they'd like. Threadjacking is also encouraged!]

The last time Allenby had been snatched up by GLaDOS, she had quickly abandoned the AI's preferred agenda in favor of seeking her out to deliver a righteous beatdown. The second time, Allenby hadn't changed anything except to get started on that before hearing GLaDOS' instructions. She hopped walls and dodged flame-shooting floor panels in her quest to get to the computer and put a fist in her processors--her soul was attached to her just fine--and just as suddenly as before, she was in mid-air. Unlike before, she was in the Hangar and surrounded by hostile robots.

"Whoa!" Instinctively, she punched the first one in its banana-shaped head, wincing at the unexpected pain. The hell--bam! Whack! She grabbed another one and hurled it at some of its comrades, which were taking aim at her. It didn't go as far as she'd hoped... ducking and dodging between them and some nastier-looking big guys, she spotted what she was looking for. "Nobel Gundam! Let's go!" she yelled, and launched herself up towards the cockpit.

It became apparent about halfway up that, well, halfway was all the way this time. That made it certain. Something was wrong with her. Had GLaDOS done this? And what the hell were all these robots trying to kill her, anyway?!

It would be a lie to say that Allenby wasn't afraid as she started to drop. But she was too pissed off now to think about being scared. With a bloodcurdling roar, she slammed herself into a clump of battle-bots and went right back to work, trying to ignore the question of how long she'd be able to keep it up.

The television in the living room lights up.

Tyrant Mail,

However many models will appear for judgment. However many minus a few will remain in the competition.

Fiercely in love,
Tyrant

The contestants are then led from the mansion to the judging room. The judges sit behind a long counter with a screen behind them to replay the highlights from the runway challenge.

Thanks to Transmigration 9's crew, Geartopia was fairing much better than a few days ago. The Mayoress having support of her townsmen in near full now thanks to what they had uncovered allowed for most people to go hide into the farms on this day, while everyone else prepared their guns, polished their boots and readied their steam-powered weapons and horses. The air today was dry, with not a cloud in sight. Another typical arid desert afternoon.

Tumbleweed passed by in the city, undaunted by such crazy theatrics that were about to play out.

What they didn't quite expect nor grasp was Snidley's entire plan. They knew of the planned attack. They just didn't know how much he didn't care even for his own men planted there.

First came and earthquake. Or rather, what felt like one. If they looked up at the mountains surrounding the towns, they might notice, slowly, more and more red dots appearing and running down and down towards the city. Shepofalant were, by trade, a very peaceful animals, so much so that most of them had been allowed to stay in gigantic herds of ten of thousands. It made hunting for their meat and clothing that much easier, considering how they could survive practically anywhere.

However, when one allows such things to happen, the consequences can be deadly, if used by the right people with twisted minds.

"Stampede!" Someone yelled out, breaking the silence as they watched.

The townsmen moved frantically, trying to get everyone out of the way. They expected men with guns, not this first wall of frantic, bleating creatures who aren't sure where they are going, just away from what scared them off. Everything stands to be run down by their hooves, buildings, crops...people. There is simply too many animals to shoot everything down without causing the entire ecosystem to crash.

"The farms! We have to go to the farms! Most of the children and the elderly have been kept there!"

[OOC - OKay here's how it's going down. During this phase, there will be giant creatures descending in mass, that should, perhaps, remind you a bit of this scene from the Lion King. Feel free to NPC some goons running around during the chaos trying to attack your characters, making NPC helpless people situations for other characters to rescue, and helping out people using the meat_mooks account! Helpless kids nearly about to be run over, people standing on top of buildings, robots turned to scrap metal for your characters to play their big rescuing heroes on, its all good!

People getting kidnapped (Cazali, Jamie, Kalyee, Punchy), please start your own threads and I will NPC some goons taking you away.]

In the days following podpop, Maxine had been around the ship enough to try and get a hold on everything-- there was a lot to take in, certainly, especially with how big the ship was. A lot had taken some time to sink in, as well, with the stories of destroyed homes, but Maxine was doing her best to not dwell on that too much, to not let herself get upset, and instead just let herself be overtaken by the fascination she had in the ship as whole. Which wasn't that hard to do, considering that Stacy was huge and amazing and so very, very cool. Maxine could really appreciate it, and she wanted to get to know her as much as possible. She just hoped that once she figured it all out, she'd be able to fit in okay, too. Or at least get a handle on things.

In the meantime, she was making an effort to take a dent out of her city exploration, considering the enormity of it (she wasn't really sure if she could explore the whole thing, even with her flight). Humming to herself, she flew low to the ground, just a few feet above, a whirlwind of air carrying her around the city, while she kept an eye out for anything interesting she might encounter, or even just people to talk to while she was there.

Another podpop meant another round of simulations to see what the new potentials could do. At 1500 hours, the squadrons were just finishing up their sortie and combat exercises - the inside of the Sensorium showed the Quarter's main hangar, with the pilots coming down the landing ramp to store their craft.

"Company dismissed!" Trudy said, her voice carrying over the comms and the hangar with just enough volume to make herself heard. "Clear out and make way for the recruits - you're welcome to stay if you don't have other duties, but no heckling."

Trudy was in her duty uniform, the green bomber jacket with its General's stripes and Rogue Squadron's patch on the sleeve. She turned to face the 'door' of the Sensorium, which in the simulation just led further into the starcraft carrier itself, and stood at parade rest. If the new recruits were worth anything, they should be there any minute.

Rin's arrival unto Stacy had been well received for the most part. He easily overlooked things, didn't notice others, and his usual naive/oblivious demeanor kept him unfocused and uninterested as far as the details of their current predicament were. To him, this just seemed like a weird, new themed attraction, then he learned that they were in some war with another group of people who needed help. To someone like Rin, all he needed was the basest of information and he'd do what needs to be done...

( Closed! )


( Open! )




[[OOC Note: The first cut is locked to Yukio; once Rin goes out into the City it's open to anyone. Keep in mind that Yukio will be following his brother, so feel free to approach either of them. Chances are, you'll be getting tagged by both, especially if you approach Rin since Yukio still doesn't trust the crew around him. Everyone and all CR is welcomed though!]]

Erhart was quite intrigued by the Sensorium demonstration, so he immediately starts utilizing it for his own needs, creating a huge scene from one of the many battles that grace his roll of honor. In this case, the battle of Carrion Gulf, third year of the Torment crusade.

It was a manufactory world. All large buildings with huge smoke-stacks, clattering conveyor belts, and downtrodden citizenry. And then Chaos came, turning the citizens into frothing cultists, and populating the world with the dark reflections of Erhart, the Chaos Space marines.

His fighting company rides the lighting, bombarding the planet in ceramite and steel drop pods which crack open like eggs, disgorging black-armored paladins like himself inside the capital. Bolters roar from friend and foe alike as the defenders of the faith, and the defilers of the faith square off, ripping into one another at range.

"INTO THEM!"

Erhart roars, through augmented external speakers, before thundering down the assault ramp of his drop pod, and decapitating a corrupted Chaos Marine with a two-handed swing from the Black Sword, the crackling of the power blade drowning out even his battlecry for a moment as it bites through armor, flesh, and bone.

And so it begins....

Two scenarios here, pick your poison!

--
In the Hangar...

Sometime after podpop and the chaos that went with it, Simon found himself down in the hangar. He'd scrounged up a couple of rags, and some soap and water - Gurren and Lagann were here, but they were in good need of a cleaning. Well. More of a dusting and polishing, but if he's gonna go to that much trouble, he may as well go all-out, right? Simon and Boota both are working at it, with the little pigmole taking care of the details and crevices.

--
Anywhere, really. More locations, the better.

So, where-ever you are and whatever you're doing outside of a room or building, you spy an odd sight - a metal face with arms and legs, and an open head--with legs sprawled out of them. It's faint, but there's also a snoring sound coming from the thing. Simon's been exploring the ship, and once he got tired, he's parked Lagann somewhere out of the way in whichever area he stopped in and just zonked out in the open cockpit.