(Untitled)

[cityship]

Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

There was condensation and mist spraying out from cracks in oblong glowing things that were clustered along the floors and walls of the huge, ancient-looking caverns.

For now, the ones that were cracking were the closest to the floor, but perhaps later, the figures sliding out of the pods

Comments

[ten_nyson]

Two things ran through Benjamin Kirby Tennyson's mind after he was ejected from the pod and were promptly vocalized. The first thought, "OH GROSS! What is this stuff?!"

The second was vocalized several seconds after the previous. "...AND WHY AM I NAKED?!"

[cityship]

||The substance is bio status liquid, Benjamin Tennyson.|| a voice answered. It was a calm, monotonous voice, without any apparent origin. ||You are naked because clothing would interfere with the life support within the pods.||

What the voice meant by "pods" was readily apparent, what with the fleshy sacks clinging to the walls. One of them was punctured, hanging limp.

That one had been Ben's pod.

[ten_nyson]

Ben's head darted around, trying to locate the source of the voice.

"Okaay, who said that?"

[cityship]

||I did.||

Helpful mysterious voice, wasn't it?

[anoldtrickster]

Mr. Wednesday isn't really the sort to panic. That doesn't mean this isn't all tremendously disconcerting.

A long, painful groan escapes him - metaphysical as much as anything else. He straightens, ignoring the wound to his dignity. He's an old man, not that he quite measures age the same as anyone else, and not as fit as he once was, and his body reflects that.

There's the empty eye socket, too.

[cityship]

||Do you require assistance?||

The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and yet all around at the same time.

[anoldtrickster]

His face slackens, and then tenses.

"No," Wednesday hisses, looking about himself with his good eye. A hand goes up to his face, tracing over its contours. It slides down to his throat, tightening, and takes in a hissing breath before releasing himself.

"Where is my eye?" It's more of a demand than a proper question.

[cityship]

||In the Weapons and Possessions Lockers.||

[st_aequitas]

Murphy awoke naked, slimy, on the floor of somewhere he didn't know the fuck where, but most terrifyingly; not knowing where Connor was.

If it hadn't been for that last, he probably would have reacted a lot more calmly.

"FUCK! Fuck! Connor! Fuck! Connor! Where the fuck-?! Connor!"

[st_veritas]

Connor, in turn, was just slightly slower than Murphy at waking; he dropped to the floor a short distance away, spluttering and confused.

"The hell? Fuck! Murph? Fuck!" He looked around frantically for his seemingly-absent twin.

[st_aequitas]

"Fuck! Connor!" Murphy ran over to his twin, clung to him. "Fuck! What the fuck?!"

[st_veritas]

Oh good, Murphy, he was right there. The world needed less smashing, now.

"Fuck if I know, Murph! Fuck!" Connor hung onto his brother protectively.

[x_girl_pryde]

Gross! Gross gross gross! Katharine "Kitty" Pryde shudders as she scrambles to get up to her feet.

She's naked.

And covered in slime.

And this totally isn't the Danger Room. She looks around. Right?

"Bobby? Rogue? Anyone?" She looks down. Still naked. And covered in slime. Oh...this has got to be a bad dream. "Anyone who might have my clothes? And a towel?"

[cityship]

||Those individuals are not here.|| said a calm and motherly voice in her head. ||Do you wish to be clothed at this time?||

[x_girl_pryde]

"I uhh..." Kitty raised an eyebrow. "Where am I? And yes, yes, please. Clothes would be a godsend."

[cityship]

||You are here.||

Stacy was ever so helpful.

Pustules started glowing on the floor, leading through the winding cavern and up the walkway, through paths of glowing pods, outlined humanoid--and not so humanoid--forms in every one of them.

[buddyofchrist]

The man who lands in a heap on the podroom floor is of about medium-to-short height, wirily muscled, and has the dark tan of a desert dweller. He lays on the warm, pulsating floor only a moment before sitting up and looking around the podroom with the expression of one who suspected as of recently that he had, in fact, Seen It All, and is not pleasantly surprised to find himself corrected.

"Hmm. I think a situational assessment is in order." He eyes himself thoughtfully as globs of slime dripp off his nose and down his naked chest. "Wet - naked - and, yes, sticky." He runs a goo-covered arm across his goo-covered face, an act which removes about as much alien snot from his eye area as it reapplies. "If it wasn't for the Demon Intestine style decor, that would usually comprise about 75 percent of my "did something fun just happen" checklist."

Chalk up one more for the "unusual" category - he's speaking Aramaic. Thank goodness for universal translation engines, huh?

[cityship]

||Do you require assistance, Bar Alphaeus, Levi-who-is-called-Biff?||

Ah, disembodied voices. Always a good sign.

[buddyofchrist]

"That depends. What are you wearing?"

Hey, this could STILL turn out to be fun. There's nudity. Nuuuudity. That's often a strong indicator that fun, in fact, happened.

[cityship]

||I do not wear clothing.||