WHAM! Samus slammed another foe into the ground with her grapple beam before tearing through the abdomens of two more. Another lunged for her, but she ducked, rolling out of the way before popping up and popping of its head with her cannon. Countless number of blasts and explosions were fired by the woman in armor. The endless waves of enemies never let up, though.

"Stop," she called. The aliens the sensorium had picked for her froze. "End simulation."

She turned her back to the door while the enemies, the scenery, and the rest of the scenario disappeared around her. It was replaced by something much simpler, not unlike something out of a gym locker room. A water bottle and towel waited on a bench for Samus. Her armor dematerialized. She grabbed the towel, wiping away the sweat that indicated just how long she had been working before throwing the towel over her shoulder. She squeezed some water into her mouth before settling into a standing position, one hand on her hip, the other tapping on the bottle. She was thinking.

The sensoriums were excellent practice, of course. They certainly replicated any possible scenario well enough. They added endless possibilities to her practice routines. She could pull up any situation and work through it. And yet...

"I wouldn't mind a real opponent once in awhile," she muttered to herself.

Pleased as pie, Kaylee found herself wandering Stacy's hallways with a skip in her step and tune on her lips. Injuries were healed up, work had commenced again as normal, and no one was being chased around by bad dreams or whatever else the 'verse was plotting to throw their way. Nope, this was a quiet day, and quiet days were best served by a good stretch of the legs, a lot of smiling, and some friendly conversation with whatever soul one happened to meet.

The familiar, soothing clang of tools in her bag accompanied the mechanic. It would be hard to miss her coming, really. Between Kaylee's humming and the tools' clinking, even the deaf would probably have heard her, and for those with a stronger sense of smell, the mix of engine grease and strawberries was probably unmistakable. If those didn't give her away, certainly the ray of sunshine that was her smile would (she could probably light the entire ship with it, given the chance).

Oh yes, doom and gloom, watch your backs. The mechanic was in all manner of a bubbly mood, and nothing could change that.

Nightmare becomes reality....

_{[roster: Leader - Cameron Mitchell, Daja, Kazami, Lister, Tony Stark]}

There is a traitor in your midst, meatship. A crew member working for the Nightmare King, enacting his will subtly on the crew.

This person has access to all the Nightmare King knows about their crewmates, and there's plenty the horrible being can glean from their dreams.

Today, it's time to act, to try to cripple all they can, to bring the fears of their crewmates to the forefront to make them easier prey. Today they revel in their cruelty, their soul twisting and writhing in the grips of their cruel master.

[ooc: This is your cue! Each of you, tag in making a new subthread, and set up the setting of where your character is, like you'd do for an post to the comm in general. In the OOC post please lay out the fears and insecurities you plan to exploit in your character's final nightmare to help with the messin'--they'd be bringing those fears to the forefront with their comments, to make it easier for the Nightmare King to act on them]

Running a hand over the smooth fabric of her dress, Inara stood at the open bay doors of Serenity, waiting for Tony Stark to arrive for their scheduled tea time. Things were already set up in her shuttle - the tea already seeping and she'd even managed to procure a small plate of cookies. She couldn't help but smile as she folded her hands patiently before her, as she had found him rather intriguing during their first meeting.

He'd had an aura of self-assurance, charm and playfulness to him. Which in her mind were always good things to have, but she hoped that during this meeting, she'd find out more about the man.

Spotting him walking toward her, her smile grew and she lifted her hand in a wave of greeting. "Tony, huān yíng, welcome. I'm glad you could make it."

Billy's eyes reopened and he smiled a bit. Looking around the temple he waved a hand to one of the side rooms. "Shall we Mr. Stark?" He moved to the room, even without having him following. He needed to have his answers, and he really needed them. At least this could make sense, because nothing else in his life was.

Plus, maybe he could inform Mr. Stark about all the things that had happened back home. Find out where the man had come from in his time line. Obviously he was in good health, which meant he was from the past. The civil war still meant something to him, which means he had to from either during, or shortly after. He wasn't on edge, so that ruled out anymore than a few weeks after.

And now his head was hurting.

Life seemed to enjoy doing this to Tony Stark. Get him settled, if not content then at least accustomed, and then turn everything on its head.
It hadn't taken long to find the Iron Man armour- but once he had it in his hands, it was hard to remember why he'd gone looking for it.

No, this time Tony was quite content to sit on the sidelines and let someone else try their hand at guiding the course of events, futurist or not. Let someone else see if they could do better. The ship was obviously entirely capable of running herself, with those pulled out of podsleep there for little more than lawn-trimming duty. What the hell was the point of having a crew if they weren't going to be allowed to do anything useful?
And so here he was, back at square one. With a hell of a lot more to give than things that exploded and maimed, frustrated that all he would ever be remembered for, even here, were his mistakes- but this time he just didn't have the will to try again.

He'd been planning to set up some kind of workshop somewhere, take the suit apart, give it a servicing and pick up as close to where he'd left off as possible. Instead he found himself hefting the suitcase containing the compacted armour through the city, not really sure where he was going or why, his feet leading him aimlessly through what felt like a collection of buildings for a giant museum exhibit rather than any real city that had been built for inhabitation.
They were like relics, all of them. Preserved, living specimens.
Exhibit n, Anthony Edward 'Tony' Stark, the Iron Man.

High above him, the holographically projected sky shimmered, clouds passing overhead in an elaborate pretense, for a purpose he didn't understand. Focusing, he attempted futilely to perceive the ceiling beyond, trying not to think too hard about the last words Steve had hurled at his back.

Was it worth it?

And for the first time, the answer was completely obvious.
Here, in the Bleed, where the Super-Human Registration Act, the Avengers, SHIELD, Norman Osborn, Stamford and everything else that had contributed to the inevitable lost all meaning?

No.
It had all been for no lasting reason at all.

The entire business of destroyed universes and great destinies was something Tali had chosen not to dwell on. By all appearances, the only real proof of the entire claim was that the creators of this ‘Stacy’ AI had said so, meaning there wasn’t enough data to go off of to even fully understand the hypothesis, let alone confirm it as fact.  Therefore, for the time being, Garrus and she were simply on a new ship in unknown space, doing what they had always done since joining the Normandy: survive whatever threats may come until Shepard gave more specific orders. There was the small complication of Shepard not yet being released from stasis to issue such orders, but she would be released eventually, of that alone Tali was sure. Until then, their mission would have to be to prepare for her arrival by gathering all the information and allies they could for the Commander. It was a plan that hinged on a very key variable, but at the moment the idea that Shepard may be lost to them was not allowed entrance to Tali’s thoughts. It simply could not be.

 

So information gathering it was. Of course, when Tali was given the choice of locations to investigate, her mind immediately went to the heart of the ship. Engineering. Despite the grimness of the situation, she was practically quivering with pent up excitement at being able to explore the inner workings of an engine capable of traveling not only distances but, by all appearances, through time and dimensions as well. How was such a thing even possible? What could fuel it? All the technology she could learn of, assess, rebuild. She almost felt guilty at the sheer amount of gleeful anticipation running through her veins. It was all for the mission, of course. That thought at least lent her some justification for her widened eyes as she entered the engineering deck and began looking around.

 

“Hello?”

[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... )

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. New crew-mates might see a green-skinned alien and snake 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.]

[OOC: Closed to Sam Winchester, Connor MacManus, Murphy MacManus, Paco Guzman, Kate Bishop, Xander Harris, Tim Drake, and Tony Stark.]

Following his chat with Master Chief and his talk with Dean, Sam sent a personal, secure message through his omnicomm out to the other seven people who had been infested by the Yeerks the longest. It'd taken some doing--and some yelling--but he'd managed to get the Chief to back him (and them) up for the time being. Now, all he had to do was get as many of them on board as possible which, he hoped, wouldn't be all that difficult.

As the appointed time--or as close as they could get to it considering time seemed to be rather difficult to grasp on the ship--Sam made his way to the city to the place that he'd selected for them to meet. It was a place that was bound to stir up bad feelings, things that many of them may not want to face. It was the place where it all began: the Clock House. Or, outside of it, rather, since the actual house itself had been sealed up per Cybil's orders.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sam walked over to the wall and, folding his arms over his chest, leaned up against it. It was as if he were defying anything that might be left alive inside to come out and try something. It was a small gesture, a tiny act of defiance that, despite its implied bravery, still caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. But even though it seemed overwhelming at times, he stifled the urge to flee, burying it deep down in his stomach and remained where he was while he waited for the others to arrive.

Tim glanced around the Special Weapons Division. It was... basically a disaster. The equipment was broken, and the--fairly horrifying-looking--medical equipment looked like someone very determined had decided to demolish it. They'd done a thorough job of it, too. With a slight shrug, he stepped into the wing and started poking through the broken equipment. There had to be something interesting left in here...

It was a classic sci-fi horror movie moment to those that had watched horror movies. Walking through the mass of insects, trying to keep their movements as slow and un-alarming as possible, not knowing if they could get through the nest intact or if they'd suddenly attack any moment.

While they were confused by the recorded chittering from Robin's belt, they were attracted by the heat and apparently by the blood being trailed along by Sam's foot, so there was no telling how long they had before the bugs figured out what they were.

But apparently, their luck held out. They were near the tunnel that led up to the surface, to the city inside Stacy, and only two adult bugs were guarding it.

Now they only had to sneak by them...

They were thrown down a hole, that dropped down a slope so steep it was unclimbable. Into some sort of cavern, half-formed by the stone understructure of the city, and by chewed-out tunnels through Stacy's flesh, deep enough where the broken sensors had no hope at all of detecting it so the holes could be healed up.

The hole was covered again, as they pushed a massive stone over it, cutting off the light, leaving Tony, Terry, Paco, Sam, Conner, Xander, and Robin in the dark. Whether or not they had weapons or their belongings on them depended on if they were strapped on and if they'd managed to hold onto them or not.

The air was muggy, even worse than the rest of the ship. It was sweat-beads-down-the-middle-of-your-back-and-feels-all-gross muggy, and the air did not smell pleasant.

Oh yeah, and it was dark. Was it mentioned that it was dark? Because it was.

It was time to get a little more organized, share some information with each other. She had a talk with that bigface kid, Jaime, to see if he could do anything to shield them from Stacy's prying eyes and he said he had a few ideas, so a meeting place was chosen, and it was time to gather.

Cybil had a good authoritative, shouting voice.

"Everyone, listen up! We're meeting down in the city near that big tree. Grab whoever you see and get down there."

Indeed they were. People were starting to gather there.

[ooc: Instead of little subthreads, everyone post in one thread as people arrive. Try to keep the convo general, like everyone talking to each other, instead of devolving into private conversations.]

Tony was a bored man, indeed. Lamenting over his current predicament would get him no-where. Making any plans was also next to impossible. Nobody knew what was going on, really, and despite the fact that he felt he was here with good people, there was an underlying tension. What were they here for? It was not a social gathering. The idea of the battle royale clung to mind, silly as it was. Maybe there was some germ of truth to it that he didn't <i>want</i> to understand. All he could do was try to be cautious. Unfortunately, that wasn't his strong suit.

So he found himself up in the city proper, with a filched notebook from the media library, and he was walking around and taking notes at a pace that could only be described as furious. Descriptions of the buildings, maps, landmarks. What he thought they meant, or what they had belonged to. They were a decent way to remember how to get from point A to point B, certainly, but there was an ulterior motive. There always was.

Generally, he was sticking his nose into everything, seeing if there was anything useful. Anything as advanced as a toaster might be suspect. After a fashion, he was looking for parts, turning his mind towards options for making things explode. Anything that could be salvaged and used if they were attacked here, he made note of it. And part of him was planning ahead just for that very scenario. Some of these buildings wouldn't be too bad for defense.

Though, one supposed, if it ever got that out of hand, they were screwed anyway. Then again, Stacy had grabbed them for a reason. Perhaps he was over-analyzing the situation.

Hey look! It's that kid!

That...everyone almost shot.

Well okay, okay, waving the scary weapons of doom at them didn't work very well to make them think he wasn't scary and threatening, but he always did have trouble reigning the scarab in. When your supersuit was so persnickety it got into a fight with someone else's supersuit, when you and the other person didn't actually want to fight, you had a pretty persnickety and reactive supersuit.

But he'd thoroughly lectured the scarab on the perils of going in guns blazing with people who had lots of guns aimed at you, and it had begrudgingly agreed to be more careful about it. Sort of. Maybe.

"No maybes," Jaime babbled--apparently to himself. "How about a nice 'yes,' you haven't given me one of those in ages."

He paused.

"Always. Always with the sarcasm. I will ground you. (Somehow). Don't think I won't, mister."

Latino teenager, bugsuit not visible (but there, WAITING TO POP OUT AND EAT YOU UP) on deck. Obs, that is. After having an ADVENTURE with Scorpius and the Doctor.

A terrifying, terrifying adventures of hellish horror, but the mun digresses.

He stood out a bit, what with being one of the only people with actual clothes instead of those weird plant-ey suits.

Despite being stuck on an alien meatship, some things never changed for Pat and Toxin...like Toxin wanting out.

Can I come out now?

"And run around? No."

It's not like I'm going to eat anything. Or anybody. Or get into things, or chew them, or anything else like what you keep telling me not to do.

"There's still the problem of not knowing what you'd run into here...or who'd run into you."

I just said I wasn't gonna do anything!

"Yeah, but you heard what Cybil said happened. I don't want you getting in brawls because somebody saw you and got the wrong idea."

Toxin popped up and grinned brightly-and toothily at Pat, then reabsorbed his fangs. How 'bout I don't show them at all? That's okay, right?

"Give it up, Tox."

Pat, at least, would welcome an interruption in the conversation as he wandered and tried to get a better grip on the ship's layout.

Say what one would about Stacy's interior decoration skills. With its vast movie and fiction holdings, when it came to entertainment, there were few places better for it than the Media Library and it's podrooms.

Hard research? Yeah, not so much.

Lucca had been here for what felt like ages, having commandeered a podroom (though she left the "door" wide open) and scoured the electronic directory, hoping against hope she'd glean some useful information (on their current location or destination, Stacy's underlying technology, etc.) that their captors might have overlooked. No dice. All that remained were general reference works on relativity and other related subjects, and what she'd turned up so far would be of limited value.

Simply put, they were out of date. When they weren't busy insisting that faster-than-light travel was utterly impossible--the view from the Obs Deck notwithstanding--they were claiming that her bread and butter, time travel, violated so many physical "laws" that it barely merited consideration. Seriously. As if any genius worthy of the name would let trifling details like "causality" get in her way! A few featured some theories on how FTL transit MIGHT be possible despite being utterly impossible, but with Stacy being her usual forthcoming self it was impossible to determine which of these theories might apply, if any.

Lucca yawned hugely, setting aside her notebook. She hadn't slept since she'd popped, and had eaten as little as she could without her stomach actively trying to digest itself. Perhaps it was time to turn in, to retire to her cozy little sleeping tube. With its throbbing walls, its nostril-like air intakes, its manifold syringe-bearing tentacles poised and ready and eager to strike--

She shuddered.

Y'know, I think I'm good for a few more hours. Or days. Or even weeks...

Well, that was a fun little adventure. Let's go exploring, and run into crazy people screaming about guys in superpowered suits, and then shoot said guys in suits. He wasn't up near front since he didn't have any firearms on him, which meant defense was limited. Plus everybody yelling didn't let him really get in to talk, not that he really wanted to. Though their fearless leader's pretty hot when she's take charge and yelling.

Not that he'd ever say anything. Unless she asked... Maybe.

In the meantime, he found himself with an urge to visit the little boys room, and small problem. He needed to find where the heck it is.

Hey wait, that looks kind of... promising...



.............

"....yeah, I can hold it." Fidgets nervously.

"No, I can't..."