1. EVERYTHING STARTS

[sheboygan]

Thirty years, by the spinning of faraway Earth around its star. Thirty short Earth-years that translate to the full lifespan of the beings born on a planet that runs much quicker around its own star, home planet to ship builders of renown well beyond their solar system.

A long life.

The names of the Captain and the Engineer never left that faraway world, kept safe among the People (as they called themselves) when the two set forth with their incredible ship. It held unprecedented technology, even for their race's innovative builders. An engine that ran by manipulating probability... a successful design could open up so many possibilities.

Those glorious futures are bright in the Captain's eyes as she pilots her vessel. The Engineer, on the other hand, is content with what's already come and gone, more determined to see the end of their journey through with dignity. It is an end, after all; thirty Earth-years and the ship builders pass on to whatever awaits the mind when the body stops working. One last, beautiful trip.

They are who oversee this strange situation. After their ship's malfunction, finding fresh cargo in their ship was surprise enough. Discovering that they had picked up living beings completely foreign to this part of the galaxy was even more strange. The further discovery that these creatures were, in fact, foreign to this entire universe if the readouts were to be believed... well. It wasn't impossible. But it was improbable.

The Captain was the first to take charge, as she had to, becoming the first to attempt to soothe and steady the unlucky travelers. She had always been the more outgoing of the two of them.

Two solitary fingers and a near-as-long thumb rise on a hand dappled with pores. Patience, the Captain urged, waiting for all to be safely roused. Patience, she said, without any mouth or voice at all, and the thoughts chimed like bells in the minds of the strangers. Tiny flame-like flickers of light lingered at her temples as she used her thought-speech to communicate.

An image blossomed in the head-spaces of her audience, a (hopefully) welcoming image of herself and her crewmate. Her species was tall and lithe, nearly eight feet in height. Their clothing carried the same elegant, almost carved-looking swirling texture as their skin, and their skirts flowed all the way down their bodies to swirl on the ground, hiding any notion of feet.

< Hello, strangers! You may have noticed that you are no longer at the where you were expecting to be at! >

The tone of her "voice" became sheepish as she continued. Lingering behind her, the Engineer seemed to glower as best as one could without eyebrows or a mouth to really sell the expression.

The Captain started to pace, and this only accentuated her truly alien nature. Her limbs curved like willow branches swaying in the wind, like there were fewer bones than there ought be in her body.

< There has been a problem with some experimental transportation technology, and it looks like we're all going to be housemates for a little while. >

She continued with a full explanation of the circumstances through which the travelers had been pulled to this universe.

< The long and short story is that we're stuck here together until we can get the ship running again to take us all back to our home planet, where we can get you back to your home universes. In order to do that, though, the Ship needs material in order to grow. Your assistance in gathering said material would be appreciated. We've landed on the planet Canagan, and there should be plenty around. Just ask the locals. They'll be able to tell you more about that.

The exit to the ship is marked by the red lights. The mess hall is marked by blue. I will be waiting there if you have any further questions. >

She finished her speech with the mental equivalent of a winky emoticon.

< That was an inelegant introduction, > remarked the Engineer.

< Well we have to show that we're friendly somehow! > The Captain sent her a thought-speak pouty face, and got silence in return. While the Engineer tried to retreat, she was held off by her partner. They needed to linger, to support these strangers how they can.



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[AWAKENING: CARGO HOLD]

[sheboygan]

Here is where your eyes open, your senses return. You wake in a large room with blank walls and a strangely soft floor. Around you are a group of other... beings. They're all awake, or getting there, but in various stages of put together - it looks like some of them were more affected by their displacement here than others (unfortunately, pan-dimensional travel is not for the fainthearted...or stomached).

There is a set of automatic doors on one of the walls of the room. They swish open whenever anyone approaches with the intent to leave.

OTA

[muchfaster]

[a-aliens................

ALIENS?!] E-ehh–!?

[there is one (1) shrimpy football player, helmet and all, still sitting up on his knees and gawking around, shaking out of the daze the speech in his head caused.

this is aliens, right? just not. not the human ones overseas. not those guys. other planets? spaceship? how hard to believe...

his fingers clunk on the side of his helmet in an absent attempt to scratch his head.]

That...that can't be right...?

[heal_or_execute]

[Yep, aliens everywhere. Here's one leaning over the football player right now, regarding him with big pupilless black eyes, a concerned expression on his noseless, hairless face. It's not immediately clear whether he's talking to Sena or himself.]

Signs of disorientation, distress, even shock. Could be simple confusion from situation, might be symptom of serious medical condition. Odd protective gear. Too light to be military or police equipment- sporting items, maybe? Interesting.

[Mordin pauses, inhales, then activates a glowing yellow thingy on his arm and starts waving it over Sena.]

Greetings. Please don't be alarmed. Performing medical scan- just making sure you're all right.

ota!

[lucky38]

There's a car in the cargo hold. And boy, is it ever a car. It's a little scuffed here and there, but gaudily painted and clearly meant for a racetrack, what with that big 38 on either side of it. It's idling with its lights low and pointed to the ground, and a peek inside those dark-tinted windows will show a veritable light show going on inside along the dashboard, as Smokescreen runs about a billion scans of his surroundings. Everything turns up the same answer: he's fragged.

He's not really married to the idea of keeping up his cover as an ordinary car, but for just this once? It might not be a bad idea. So he sits still, listening and watching to the goings-on around him, occasionally a side view mirror shifting with a whir as he keeps an eye on things behind him too.

OTA

[asteriated]

( "You are no longer at the where you were expecting to be at" seemed to be the most succinct version of what Carol thought upon waking up. For the moment, however, she wasn't being attacked or purposefully kidnapped or any number of things, which was an improvement over the past few months.

Aliens. She could deal with aliens. God, she would really like not to deal with aliens while wearing this. )

Ring?

Unknown sector. Unknown species. Unknown.

Great, thanks. ( Biting down on the response to ask it what it did know, she drops her arm. ) They said they'd be waiting in the mess hall...

( Which meant she had a goal. But before that - there were others, and they demanded her attention more than getting an answer right that second. Carol turns to those around her - voice level and calm, if a bit distorted: )

Are you alright?

( They can take her out of her sector, but she's not going to stop doing her job because of it. )

[spiritsongs]

I think I am...

[Lilia is one of the people standing nearby. She's just rising to her feet, testing her balance. Dizziness makes her wobble for a moment, but she holds her ground. Once up, she dusts off her sash and looks to Carol.]

What about you?

OTA

[sniperking]

[To be fair, this isn't Usopp's first time being unexpectedly sent elsewhere, and this time, nothing is trying its damnedest to eat him. Yet. He's not so sure yet about those mind-alien-things. They probably don't want to kill him.

Okay, they might want to kill him.

Okay, they probably want to kill him.

No, no, he can handle this...! He's a brave man of the sea, and he's worked his ass off to make sure he can say that without feeling the lie in the pit of his gut. With that in mind, he leaps to his feet, staff-like slingshot brazenly held aloft and steadfastly ignores the fact that his knees are wobbling something fierce.]

O-o-oi...! What the hell is going on here?

[He jerks his head around, looking at his new comrades-in-arms, and desperately searching for a familiar face.]

Heracles, now would be a nice time to come out...

[muchfaster]

[if Heracles is anything like a half-pint in shoulderpads and a helmet, maybe Usopp won't be as disappointed, because maybe it's just enough familiarity to take the sting out of this.

then again, Sena doesn't strike the most confident of figures, even geared up like that, and his legs wobble a little once he's gotten up off the floor. run all-out against your enemy, dive right into an alien spaceship? that's not part of the strategy...

he does a very quick double-take when Usopp's searching around, making eye contact. Eehhh–?! What a nose–!!]

[lucky38]

The sitting-here-innocently-as-a-totally-normal-car ploy is noooot really getting him any answers, so Smokescreen opts for a different approach. And he'll try it with... there, that guy. With the slingshot and the question. He nudges forward carefully, cautious not to bump into anything living or breakable, and generates a human holomatter avatar to sit behind the wheel on his drivers side. His drivers side window rolls down once he's close enough to Usopp, and the guy inside (looking young, scruffy, and barely old enough to drive — not to mention a little unnaturally stiff and jerky) leans his head out to talk to him.

"That's kind of what I was wondering too, actually. It looks like a lot of us aren't supposed to be here."

[MESS HALL]

[sheboygan]

The blue doors open into a wide, round room. There is a large, C-shaped table ringing it, surrounded by chairs. The numerically inclined may notice that there are exactly enough chairs for every person aboard the ship to sit (how convenient, the Engineer found, to see so many same-bending limbs in that unconscious congregation as she bade the ship transform). In the middle of the C is a large pool of pale green liquid. Its purpose is unknown, but it smells pleasantly sweet. The Captain could probably tell you what it's for.

Speaking of her, she's sitting in one of the chairs close to the far wall, feet kicked up onto the table as she fiddles with a tablet.

The Engineer, though? Not here. Not now.

*

[muchfaster]

Hiiee...

[that pool is...so weird. so weird! Sena's hugging his arms to suppress some involuntary shudder and seeing it. it looks like...mouthwash...

ulp.

he freezes when he sees the Captain, heart jumping into his throat. she's so scary-looking! simply for looking so strange.]

U-u-uhhh–!! [no amount of arm-hugging's going to keep him from getting jittery now.]

Re: *

[captain_cheboygan]

[The Captain doesn't notice the newcomer until he starts making noises. She looks over at him and her head cocks slowly to the side, body language very much like a confused cat.]

< You are making a ... noise? >

[It doesn't seem to have a communication purpose, though. Strange.]

< Are you ill? >

*

[capsulized]

Ayo Captain, here's another captain. This one is dressed up to the occasion, whatever that occasion is, blue and silver padded along the lines of his body in a suit that screams 'custom made'. Who else could pull it off, anyway? One might assume it must be a cultural thing to walk around with a shield on your back, too.

"Hope I'm not interrupting."

Oh, look. She's got one of those handy tablet things. He can't seem to escape these techie trends, no matter the universe.

[captain_cheboygan]

Ahoy there, Captain! This Captain notes the shield more than the clothes; she's seen quite a few outfits in her day, after all. You would not believe some of the things they wear on some of the planets in this galaxy...

< Well, given that you are what I'm working on, it's pretty impossible for you to interrupt me! >

The Captain sets her tablet aside, and leans forward, body language screaming "I am interested in what you're saying!"

< Do you have any questions for me? >

*

[spiritsongs]

[Lilia wanders through the doors, eyes taking in the room. The pool catches her gaze, and the rest of her follows. She stands at the pool, looking at it curiously and sniffing the air. Her brow furrows. One hand rises to her mouth; a thoughtful habit.]

[Having noticed the captain before, she looks to the alien.] Is this some sort of food?

[captain_cheboygan]

The Captain looks up at the sound, then her eyes focus in on the newcomer and she claps her hands.

< Yes, that is the nourishment dispenser on the ship! Isn't it pretty? >

She's so proud of the ship for designing such an elegant fountain.

< It's currently a carbohydrate-rich solution, but I can change the formulation if you want! >

[EXIT]

[sheboygan]

Through the red doors lies fresh air and a scrubby field. If you venture forward, you'll notice that the ship is perched several meters back from the edge of a cliff (lucky landing that). There's a rocky sort of path leading down to a quiet beach, and beyond that, to a quaint looking sea-side town. That's probably where you'll find the locals that the Captain mentioned.

It's out here the Engineer can be found at intervals, surveying the chassis and very pointedly not looking in the direction of any of the passers-by, unless they get too close to her work.

OTA

[capsulized]

Lucky for them (or him), Steve was picked up into this adventure wearing the rather iconic shield and Captain America uniform: 2014 edition. The one they took from him until all those pesky issues with SHIELD (and that other guy) were resolved. It settles pretty well on him, even if it's obviously rather tight on all those muscles, shoulders broad and hands clenched in an impeccable posture as he takes one step, then another, down the path to decide where to go to next. Seriously, with this lighting and his figure, you might as well be listening to a sci-fi epic orchestral arrangement.

He looks behind his shoulder, too, to wonder if he can get away with sneaking around the ship to pick up some information. It's nothing he hasn't done before. With SHIELD, for that matter. But this isn't the agency he knows, and these aren't the agents he knows he can overpower. There's very little about this situation he can count on, really. Except for himself.

[note: There will most likely be Winter Soldier spoilers in the tags! Let me know if you want to avoid them.]

[muchfaster]

Sena really wishes Hiruma were here. He always seems to have at least a means of getting good information, should he ever be without. Sena's not devious enough to be so secure. Instead, barely a minute out the door he's already found himself caught by the Engineer's glower, plenty enough to spook him right back where he came.

More or less; he's a speedy kid, and stable enough to keep from falling backward entirely when he turns the corner sharply and hits the not-alien captain full-on.

"Ouuhff–!!" He staggers back a few light steps, putting a hand to his helmet, keep it from slipping sideways. "S-s-sorry, uh!"

[sniperking]

Every possible action Usopp could take underneath the circumstances is a terrifying one. Staying inside means staying close to those weird head-aliens in a place that feels more like a prison than a home, at the mercy of their mysterious captors. But going outside means stepping foot on what is supposed to be an entirely different planet, a place that must be filled with an unbelievable array of terrors.

But he couldn't just sit in that single room forever, so here Usopp is, cautiously making his way down the path, staff-slingshot held protectively in front of him as if he's expecting some sort of hideous monster to come bounding in his direction at any moment. It's not an altogether unfair assumption on his part; having just came from a place that tried its level best to eat him at every moment, he can only imagine what mysteries a foreign planet holds.

All he sees in front of him, though, is a simple path and a peaceful beach, a sight that wouldn't be out of place in his very own Syrup Village. He falters, then speaks out loud to no one in particular.

"Could this seriously be an entirely different planet...?"

He bends down to pick up a rock, holding it in front of his face. "Everything looks so normal!"

[lucky38]

Ooh, nice colors. But that's about all Smokescreen has the presence of mind to notice about Steve, because for the most part, he's waiting for the human to get out of the way for his own dramatic exit. He waits as a car, the only shape the small halls of the ship can accommodate, a bit back from the door, waits, waiting... there, he's far enough away.

There's a roar of an engine as Smokescreen launches himself out of the door, catching a little air on the way down. He transforms midair, metal whirling and shifting in a blur, until it's a just-under-20-feet robot that lands in a readied crouch, already grinning.

"Alright! Stuck the landing!" He straightens, dusting his large hands off.

[BEACH]

[sheboygan]

The beach at the base of the cliff is full of all sorts of debris. There's a good chance you could net yourself a piece of scrap or two just sorting through it. You also might be able to catch some of the local wildlife for dinner... if you think you can figure out what's edible and what isn't.

If you wander around, you'll come to a little hut nestled in the shadow of the cliff. The hut is connected to a small dock that looks to be simple, but made sturdy, just like the being sitting on it. If you wave hello, he (?) will wave back at you with both of his right arms, and give you a polite greeting.

"Hey there, friend! What brings you to these parts?"

His name is Harvy, a Yoopper, one of the major sentient life forms on this planet. An easy description would be to call him a seven-foot tall bipedal beaver with four arms and two sturdy legs, wearing a plaid flannel shirt and jean overalls. His fur is chestnut brown, save for his luxurious moustache, which is glossy black, and his eyes are bright yellow.

He's just as pleased to chat as he is to leave you to your own business, though expect curious staring all the same.

[TOWN]

[sheboygan]

As expected from a town populated by towering, six-limbed beavers, the buildings are mostly log-cabins. They're sturdy and look like they've survived many a storm in their day. If you ask around for places to get scrap, the locals will direct you to Mindy's down the way.

Mindy is a plump, cheery Yoopper with an easy laugh. Her fur is a bright coppery tone, and her ears are pierced with a variety of bone hoops and studs. She welcomes you to whatever you want in the junk yard, since you're guests and all, but warns you to be careful.

"I let my wulfereens play out there, and sometimes they get a little nippy!", she says grinning. Her tone of voice gives no clue as to whether she likes them that way or not. "So be careful, yah?"

Know what a wulfereen is? No? Well, imagine a ball of messy fur, no bigger than a football. Now imagine that if you get too close to one, a huge mouth, more than half its width, opening up and emitting one of the most obnoxious, barking snarls you've ever heard.

They are quite the anklebiters, but not out to kill. Just savage if anyone gets too close to them for comfort.

ota!

[lucky38]

By now, he's given up on the car thing. You just can't get much done as a car, you know? And if they're here to gather stuff, then gathering stuff is totally what he's going to do. So there's a 20 foot robot out in the scrapyard, picking over things with a hesitant interest, and being absolutely unbothered by the furry organics. They went for him once, and when all he did was make a face, gingerly pick it up, and set it at the top of a tall pile of scrap, they generally left him alone afterward.

"Hey," he'll say to anyone who seems near enough to hear him, and turns to present the rusted-out shell of some kind of machinery, held easily in one large hand. "Do you think they need this?"

OTA

[heal_or_execute]

Mordin has spent an exciting few hours exploring the town and pumping every Yoopper he meets for cultural and biological information. It's a good thing the inhabitants are generally so friendly- other people might eventually get annoyed with a stranger wandering around asking them about everything from ancient Canagian history to Yoopper mating practices (and sometimes requesting DNA samples for analysis with the same directness other people use to ask the time). Eventually he works his way up to analyzing some of the local wildlife. That's when things get interesting.

"Wulfereen territorial instinct confirmed!" He says to no one in particular as he hauls ass past Mindy's house with a quartet of yapping sharp-toothed furballs gnashing at his heels. Mordin will marvel later at the anatomical mysteries of how wulfereens fit that much mouth onto that small a body- for now he just wants to not get bitten!