||Pod Release Protocols Initiating,|| Stacy announced to the denizens of the upper levels. Down the the Pod Caverns, familiar sounds made themselves known
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John-117, better known as the Master Chief, is awake now and vigorously so. That happened when he hit the deck and in a second or so he's already regained his feet through pure reflex. The temperature is the first thing that bothers him, even as he runs through a quick checklist of his limbs and finds them all undamaged. He's too warm. You NEVER wake up from cryo sleep without feeling slightly frozen. Or from a fleshy pod. Or dripping ooze, bad-tasting ooze that he's quietly spitting out and wiping from his face. Okay, this isn't making any sense. His eyes rake across the pod room around him, looking for signs of danger. It's like a Flood hive in here, the floor is fleshy under his bare feet and the other pods and the rest of the room are doing nothing to refute the similarity. It smells differently though... the decay is missing. It doesn't quite feel the same, but it does nothing good for his nerves
( ... )
The Chief whips around, looking for whoever said that. Something about the voice niggles at the back of his mind, like it's all in his head, but that's less important than figuring out what's going on in a broader sense right now.
"Who are you?" he addresses the voice, eyes now scanning along the ceiling for something that might be a PA. Not to mention the fact it knows his name. It KNOWS his NAME. That just makes this about seven thousand times creepier, and though you wouldn't know it from looking at him his heartrate's up and the adrenaline is flowing.
||I am STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT,|| the voice answers. A swell of emotion accompanies the name -- Chief will feel some strange mix of motherly love, duty, honor, and dozens of other, more difficult to name, emotions. They're certainly not a result of the voice, which is almost mechanical in its "speech". ||Many of the crew refer to me as Stacy.||
||Your heart rate indicates that you are distressed,|| Stacy notes further. A tentacle detaches itself from the wall, armed with a needle. ||Would you care for a sedative?||
Billy couldn't recall the last time that waking up had been so thoroughly unpleasant. He'd expected to awaken in his bedroom, or his lab, or perhaps even the Command Center, but he'd never risen to consciousness coated in the slimy fluid now clinging to him
( ... )
||I am here, William Cranston,|| answers a voice. It's emotionless, almost mechanical in nature but not quite. Possibly feminine. And there's something strange about the way it sounds, as if "sounds" isn't even the right word at all...
Billy's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. He twisted on his heel, looking for any moving blobs that were likely to be the source of the voice, but none could be found.
Well, whoever she was, she knew his language and his name. That was a start, if a creepy one. Naturally, he'd follow up with the next logical questions.
||My name is STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT.|| For such a strange name (one clearly impossible to pronounce with human vocal folds), it stirs up a great deal of emotion. Motherly love, duty, and honor foremost among them. ||You may call me Stacy, if you prefer. I know your name because it is on the crew roster. Is there something else you wish to be called?||
All of Samus's thoughts could be summed up in pretty much one word: Ugh. Dripping goo was never a good thing, especially if you were naked and covered in it. This brought another thought to her mind, why was she naked? An immediate reaction was an attempt to activate her power suit, which promptly failed. Another attempt. Failure. Her current surroundings, even though it was painfully obvious she was no longer on her ship, didn't even phase her as she worked out any possible reasons why it wouldn't work
( ... )
Not many things catch Samus Aran but surprise, but the voice from nowhere was certainly... unexpected. Scanning the room, she tried to find the source but can't seem to figure out where the voice is coming from.
"Who are you? Where is this?" were the first questions she asked, but they really sounded more like demands.
||I am STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT,|| and the name is full of emotions; honor, motherly love, duty, and more, ||but you may call me Stacy. You are currently in the Pod Caverns.||
"Ooohahaha dot vas interestink!" the triplechanger announced gleefully. He didn't seem fazed by the fact that he'd just gotten spat out into some otherworldly spacecraft.
There was a kshnk and a dizzying blur of movement, and Blitzwing's face changed. "Ah...but vhere are ve?" he asked, considerably more quietly. He was now observing his new surroundings with some bemusement.
He hadn't yet noticed his height. Perhaps that was for the better at the moment.
The Pod Caverns. Ah. ... It still didn't make any sense, even after Blitzwing ran it through all three sections of his processor.
"Uh...clarify...moreso?" he ventured to ask. "Und...who are you?" His optics scanned the vast cavern, and found it mind-bogglingly big. Even the Nemesis wasn't as big as this.
||Information classified. I am STA'C K'LTRRB'TXFT...|| the name seems to be accompanied by a psychic flood of emotions, which seemed to be a mix of honor, duty, and motherly love. ||...but you may call me Stacy.||
Today was officially the worst day of Saul Tigh's life.
He burst through the slime, gasping for air, and he just _knew_ that this was the proof that he was a Cylon, not a real human.
He'd been resurrected.
Looking around, he didn't see any skinjobs on hand to take him out of the goo. But maybe as one of the Final Five they wanted to give him some frakkin' privacy.
Didn't even leave him his eyepatch. Of course, he'd taken it off before racking out - or so he thought. He'd had some ambrosia before bed and his memory wasn't what it used to be.
Looking around, he gingerly climbed out of the body-temperature goo, wiping himself off as best he could.
"All right, you bastards. Which Basestar is this?" he asked. Didn't look like the ones he'd seen and been aboard, but maybe they were all different.
Saul looked around, trying to see who it was who was talking to him.
Great. More voices in his head.
"This isn't fracking funny." he said to whoever it was who was listening. "I find out who's behind this they're gonna be shovelling tylium ore or on permanent sanitation duty until the end of time." he growled.
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That 'something' is speaking to him. There's something strange about the voice though, like he didn't actually hear anything...
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"Who are you?" he addresses the voice, eyes now scanning along the ceiling for something that might be a PA. Not to mention the fact it knows his name. It KNOWS his NAME. That just makes this about seven thousand times creepier, and though you wouldn't know it from looking at him his heartrate's up and the adrenaline is flowing.
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||Your heart rate indicates that you are distressed,|| Stacy notes further. A tentacle detaches itself from the wall, armed with a needle. ||Would you care for a sedative?||
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Well, whoever she was, she knew his language and his name. That was a start, if a creepy one. Naturally, he'd follow up with the next logical questions.
"Who are you, and how do you know my name?"
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"Who are you? Where is this?" were the first questions she asked, but they really sounded more like demands.
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There was a kshnk and a dizzying blur of movement, and Blitzwing's face changed.
"Ah...but vhere are ve?" he asked, considerably more quietly. He was now observing his new surroundings with some bemusement.
He hadn't yet noticed his height. Perhaps that was for the better at the moment.
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||You are in the Pod Caverns.||
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...
It still didn't make any sense, even after Blitzwing ran it through all three sections of his processor.
"Uh...clarify...moreso?" he ventured to ask. "Und...who are you?" His optics scanned the vast cavern, and found it mind-bogglingly big. Even the Nemesis wasn't as big as this.
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He burst through the slime, gasping for air, and he just _knew_ that this was the proof that he was a Cylon, not a real human.
He'd been resurrected.
Looking around, he didn't see any skinjobs on hand to take him out of the goo. But maybe as one of the Final Five they wanted to give him some frakkin' privacy.
Didn't even leave him his eyepatch. Of course, he'd taken it off before racking out - or so he thought. He'd had some ambrosia before bed and his memory wasn't what it used to be.
Looking around, he gingerly climbed out of the body-temperature goo, wiping himself off as best he could.
"All right, you bastards. Which Basestar is this?" he asked. Didn't look like the ones he'd seen and been aboard, but maybe they were all different.
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Great. More voices in his head.
"This isn't fracking funny." he said to whoever it was who was listening. "I find out who's behind this they're gonna be shovelling tylium ore or on permanent sanitation duty until the end of time." he growled.
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||You appear distressed,|| the voice informed him helpfully, ||would you care for a sedative?||
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