intro log

[ceoqueen]

who. everyone!
what. entering omega.
where. landing pads
when. today
warnings. none for now

You’re not sure how it happened.

A minute ago, you had somewhere to go, someplace to be. Maybe something important to do, or maybe you were just going out to buy groceries. Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter anymore.

You’re in some kind of transport -- a shuttle, given the turbulence and the sounds outside. You’re surrounded by strangers, some of whom might not even be the same species you are. There’s no point in asking. They don’t know how they got here either. The cockpit’s blocked off, like someone forgot to put in a door, and not even a glance at your omni-tool -- a holographic interface accessible by merely tapping the sensor on your left arm -- is any help.

You’ve only got a minute or so before the shuttle starts descending. There aren’t any windows -- this doesn’t look like a shuttle meant for long trips. When it finally touches down, the doors open automatically.

Before you are landing pads, abandoned equipment scattered about. There are other shuttles landing, and whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to get off before yours dumps you out the door. Turn around, and you’re met with a hazy skyline, only half the buildings seem to be coming from above.

Welcome to Omega.


ooc notes
You’re free to expand past the landing area, but please start all threads here. Please remember that your character will not have housing until Aria makes a post granting it; it’ll be on outsiders and linked here when it goes up.

Comments

Open

[lecousindangereux]

[There was still a bottle of 'wine' in her hand. That, at least, was the same. The rest? Well. No. So totally checked into a different space here.

Heh. Space.

Maeby stood on the landing pad and took a contemplative swig from her bottle as she eyed the change in scenery. She'd heard about out of body experiences when people drank too much- hell, she figured her mother pretty much live in a permanent one. It would explain how she acted half the time. But this? Maybe there'd been acid or something in there, too. This couldn't be what getting drunk was always like, could it?

Whatever. She swayed a little on her feet, the fact she was only placebo drunk not changing the fact her teenage brain was determined to make her act drunk. Another glance at the bottle in hand, she wondered just how much crap had to be in it to make her see this, and she finally noticed the omni-tool for the first time.]

Hey. Free jewelery.

open open

[articletwelve]

[ Well, this is familiar.

Except it's not, because a year and a half on Sacrosanct, for all its ups and downs, had been fairly predictable. Sure, the station had its fair share of chaos, whether the teleporters were changing people into something weird or spitting dinosaurs out everywhere, but it looked about the same every day. Less populous, after Hypatia was gone, but he'd gotten used to that, in turn.

There had been a lot to get used to, over time. The way people always came and went, even those he cared about more than he thought he ever could. The realization that nothing was permanent, not really, when any step through a teleporter could mean he never came out the other side. But for all the pain he'd endured, he'd accepted what life there meant, and he'd done everything he could to settle in.

He'd just never expected to end up somewhere else.

Wash looks down at his armor, at the blue and yellow, and it comes to him like a vivid memory, though not as fractured as Epsilon's had been. He remembers the facility, remembers seeing Epsilon again, remembers Carolina-- and he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it's true.

But there's no time to process it. The shuttle's touching down, the aliens around him pushing towards the exit, and Wash finds himself swept along with them. He steps down onto the landing pad, instinctively reaching for his gun, only to realize his hand's already full. There's an uncertain meow, and Wash lifts the cat carrier up to peer inside.

At least Rainier's still with him. ]

[ ooc: Wash is in blue armor (as in this icon), but I only have a couple of blue armor icons right now. Just assume it's blue even if I use a gray one! ]

open!

[unyieldingly]

[The warmth of a high noon sun so soon after the bloody battle at Vigil's keep is suddenly replaced by the shadow of the inside of a shuttle, the wooden boards at her back now metal and thrumming with energy. Hawke opens her eyes and blinks back the bleariness, glancing around at the people around her.

The shuttle stops and opens, the few people sitting now rising to leave the transport. With some hesitation, she follows, the view opening up to a bustling and crowded skyline, blinking lights in the faint half-dark.

This is most certainly not Kirkwall.

For a moment, she simply gapes. This has to be something out of a dream; this can't actually exist. She doesn't even recognize the people around her, much less the machinery. How is everything metal? Her head spins with the strangeness of it all and she quickly steps away from the main group, going to actually try and get a good look at the landing pad itself. With some care, she reaches up and touches the staff still strapped to her back. At the very least, she has that.

So where in the Void is she?]


(ooc: action or prose, up to you!)

open!

[hellodeadpeople]

[ Jack knows that fucking hunk of metal floating around in space the second she sees it. Knows it like the back of her hand, and considering the back of her hand is mapped out in very specific tattoos, that's pretty damn good. And thus, she's got her hand on the pistol strapped on her thigh and a curse on her lips the second she steps off the shuttle onto the landing dock. ]

You've gotta be shitting me...

[ And fuck if she cares who hears her talking to herself, they can mind their own damn business - she went through intergalactic war and then Scotty beamed her off to the city of eternal demon possession, creepy trains, and the lack of decent porn. Her life is hard, and some dickbag in charge of fate apparently decided to make it harder by shipping her off to the one place in the universe with the highest concentration of people that want her head on a pike hanging out in dark corners and alleyways. ]

Finally back in the right freaking galaxy, and this is the shithole I get dumped in? [ Ain't nobody got time for this shit. The hand not ready to get trigger happy on her pistol runs over her hair, pushing back a few strands, and an irritated grunt falls from her. Alright, let's do this. At least she's got her guns back. Stepping away from the bridge to the ship, combat boots fall heavy on the grime covered docking bay floor as Jack makes her way in, eyes on those around her and a mutter on her lips. ] I love you too, Powers That Be. And kindly go fuck yourselves.

[[ ooc; reusing my testdrive post, don't judge me 8T ]]

wide open !

[traitortwin]

Touch me again and see what happens.

[That angry snap came from this full-armored female soldier as she jerks her arm out of the grip of some alien asshole shoving her toward the exit. She'd be even more defiant - she'd really like to punch him in the side of the head - but there's too much uncertainty right now. All she can do is step forward, off the transport.

This isn't the first time she's mysteriously ended up somewhere else, but at least this time she's not on a damned ship, not dropped onto a med bay floor naked and covered in stasis tank fluid. This is at least a little better. Sort of. But it's still bullshit.

She reaches for her gun, just to feel that it's still clipped to her side. She then crosses her arms and glares all around her - at everyone and everything.]

... Great. Just great.

[testifier]

[He could still feel the sweat on his brow, ready to push the button that would dismember his own head to send away to another time, another place. He had lowered the Sendificator as surely as he could manage, shutting his eyes as the edge of the device obscured his robot companion and readying himself--

But apparently decapitation isn't the best way to transport oneself through time. Who would have thought it.

Dirk is out of the shuttle like a whippet from a box, seeming to move across the room within the blink of an eye. There's no frantic theatrics, or even gaping surprise, from this young man-- only a startled burst of speed from so many people suddenly being so close. Still, he appears seemingly indifferent as he turns to look over the hazy cityscape, eyes squinting into the distance behind his shades. With a slight knit of his brow, he simply turns his attention towards the sensor on his arm, tapping it curiously and activating the omni-tool.

Well. That's new.

He remains still, either unaware or uncaring he might be in the way, deftly examining the new tech.]

[Open]

[professorwolf]

[The now-local Victorian werewolf made his way out of the throng of people quickly enough, looking like nothing more than a man severely out of time. No metal suits or tank tops for him: rather, he wears a greatcoat, top hat, and gloves paired with a waistcoat, a semi-formal jacket, and a neatly-tied cravat. Dangling from one arm by its leather-wrapped handle is his dispatch case-- a small, leather briefcase, to anyone else's eyes-- as he'd just been heading home from the office just before dawn, before the world decided to turn on its head.

He doesn't go far, yet, though. For now, he's watching, hazel eyes sharp, and attempting to make some sense of this before he finds someone to ask directly. Someone who looks at home enough who might know enough to be asked.]

[Open!]

[dowhatittakes]

[Liara isn't too sure how she ended up in the shuttle, after all, she had been reading dossiers on the reports coming in from Thessia. All in all, the reports were grim at best. But once she's out on the shuttle pad, Liara can't help but grimace when she knows exactly where she is. Of all the times she didn't need to be anywhere near the Terminus systems she had somehow ended up on Omega.]

Oh no...

[Immediately Liara's mind snaps to when they were just about to hit the relay after leaving Thessia. The only logical conclusion was that the relay was broken somehow, most likely the Reapers doing.]

[Huffing a sigh she made her way to a nearby bench and had a seat, now she needed to get in contact with as many people as physically possible and see if anyone else had been displaced from the Normandy.]

[beat]

[ Hahaha, fuck.

He's gazing in a rather dumbfounded manner at the skyline, his headphones still settled around his neck - definitely not in Kansas anymore, Toto; not that it mattered. He knew he would never get to write his slam poetry in peace, in all honesty.

So in an attempt at absorbing his surroundings effectively, he starts walking, steering clear of any other (presumably) living bodies. He does in fact notice the vast difference in species, but he's not entirely phased by it; two years on a meteor with literal internet trolls really does things to a guy.

There's also the matter of the omni-tool attached to his left arm, a device he doesn't notice nor feel the presence of right away. But only after raising his arm to brush the bangs off his forehead in order to get a clearer look at the sky, does he spot the device...

Priceless.

So here stands Dave Strider, in all his red god tier pajama glory, Knight of Time, shades, and unaware gaping. If you so desire, you might find him pushing his headphones back into place on his ears, drowning out the sounds of Omega. ]

[ ooc | might be tagging with both this account and sup (for icons), so don't fret if you get a tag from there! ]

open.

[thisisthatpart]

( Is this how humans normally walk? Slowly? And with one foot in front of the other?

Having been so accustomed to gliding around on tracks, Wheatley is still getting the hang of asking like a person would. Forget being carried by a human; navigating in a human body is such a chore! You have to worry about your feet moving right, about not bumping into other people, about looking ahead instead of up or behind or at the way those things called knees bend as you move...

And it's a good thing he looked up, too. Otherwise, he'd have missed... well, everything. )

Is this space? Are we still in space ? I mean, I was starting to think that space was cold and black with lots of tiny little...

( Oh, right. He was alone now, wasn't he? No more Space Sphere going on about being in space. )

... stars.

[starspangledspandex]

[Well, he's definitely not in Kansas anymore he decides as he stumbles out of the shuttle he'd--magically?--found himself on. He's supposed to be in New York! Loki needs stopped and now, before he can put the Tesseract to use.

Instead he's here. Where here is.

Absently he raises an arm to check his shield is still snugly across his back and he pulls down the cowl back into its hood. He looks enough out of place in the stars and stripes. His Avengers uniform is thankfully rather sturdy and offers him some kind of protection.

This is a whole new world. Again. He's really tired of waking up and finding himself in places he doesn't recognize. Once out on the landing pad, he frowns as he glances around at everyone else.

Should he hope for someone he knows?]

Open Sesame

[soldad]

[ One moment, Arthur was going through the teleporter after using Delta's program, hoping to return home. (The decision to go home was not made lightly.) The next, he's in a crowded transport shuttle, being jostled around.

To say he's confused is putting it lightly. He's just glad that while his armor is a bit out of place, at least he's wearing armor, just like everyone else.

His bag in hand with his laptop, he steps off the shuttle and looks around. It's another station, for sure, but definitely not Sacrosanct.

He rolls his shoulders and looks around. ]

Well, this sure isn't where I was planning on ending up.

OPEN bitches come at me.

[airraid]

[.. okay. so. this is totally not where he's supposed to be right now. there are things that need to be done - like get the normandy to that cerberus idiot's base so shepard can take care of business - but it doesn't look like that's going to happen anytime soon.

why the hell is he on omega?

well .. whatever. maybe the original intent hadn't been to find himself here, but since it looks like he doesn't have anything to do about it? might .. as well make the most of it.

maybe that means no reapers .. which is something that he's not going to bitch about. ever.

it takes him a moment to shuffle forward, and he's inspecting the landing pads with a slow shake of his head, folding his arms over his chest with a low whistle.] Guess this means the war's on hold .. I hope the Reapers don't mind taking a time-out.

[.. har.]

open.

[noscope]

[this .. this is not the mother of invention. this is not anything he's ever seen before. which makes him pause, for more than just a handful of moments as he stares out at the landing pads, theta all but buzzing in the back of his mind with questions.

north .. where are we? i don't think we're supposed to be here.

and he wishes he could answer with something that isn't another question. he wants to know where they are just as much as his ai, and he has a feeling that he's going to have to go searching on his own to find that out. he bites at his bottom lip behind the safety of his visor, worrying at it as he often does when he's nervous or doesn't know what to do in certain situations - because old habits die hard, of course, and if there were ever a time for nervous ones, now is certainly it.

north steps forward, looking around, yet again glad that he's all but hiding beneath his helmet just for the simple fact that the expression spreading across his features is nothing but confusion mixed with the faintest bit of uncertainty.

north ..?

i don't know where we are, theta .. but i'm going to try to find out.]

open to all

[neverknocks]

[ This is definitely not Sacrosanct, and York's still not sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, a place with actual people. On the other, a place full of dangerous people, because she knows enough to know what she's seeing. Granted, she's not yet sure the place is any more dangerous than Sacrosanct was. She'll have to see about that.

For now, at least she's blending in all right. Except that her armor's a little bulky, and she's definitely never seen most of these aliens before. She'll be making her way around the landing zone, trying to fit in and simultaneously gather a little info on where the shit she is now. If there are others here like her -- and there have to be, if she knows anything about this universe-jumping bullshit -- then maybe Wash is, too. But she can't count on it.

Best bet now is to try and figure out where she is, and what the immediate danger might be -- beyond the whole host of unsavory-looking types around here. But those guys, she's not as worried about. ]

Open!

[traineeassistantdirector]

[Feeling a bit small in a crowd rather unavoidably dominated by people in video-game getups and dotted by people who didn't look to be human (he thought "demon" before "alien"), Tony retreated the best he could to the vaguely defensible position of having his back against a wall, collecting his thoughts quietly. He didn't think he could have done any magic by accident, certainly not the kind of magic involved in opening portals to other worlds. He'd seen that done by both various demons and Arra, and despite the difference in their technique, it was obviously a pretty big undertaking. Not something one might do accidentally by stepping onto the stupid bus. And he didn't even have his coffee anymore, adding insult to injury.

Despite being rather short and quite thin, pale, and tired-looking, Tony managed to broadcast general irritation quite widely. He'd be frightened and worried later. Right now, he just wanted to find whoever was responsible for this and try to turn them into something unpleasant. He'd never successfully managed that, but he was willing to experiment.]

[Open]

[salarian_savant]

[No no no, someone has clearly made a mistake. He recognizes the landing pad immediately upon arrival. Omega. He's not supposed to be on Omega.

Sur'kesh is calling. They want their genophage expert. STG doesn't pull people out of retirement on a whim. Whatever this is, it's big. He doesn't have time to waste being back on Omega.

Tapping at his omni-tool makes him frown, where has he lost six months of time? Impossible. There's nothing at all wrong with his memory. He's doing his best to get signals out from his omni-tool but nothing. They're also telling him the relay's closed. Nothing is adding up. It's a tad unsettling but there must be an explanation.]

Too busy for side trip to Omega. War with reapers likely. Must aide in salarian preparations.

[Someone is a little agitated. Who can blame him? So much to do, so little time. For now he's standing out of the way on the landing pad. He kind of fits in with the alien thing going on.]

ota!

[spacecancer]

[ Thane hasn't forgotten anything since he was a child— or more appropriately, can't. Every waking moment, every rainy day and mundane, passing whisper and punch taken is locked into his brain, only a second of solipsism away from being relived in its entirety.

—So. When he can't remember how he got onto a shuttle, and the doors slide open to a station he holds little fondness for to begin with, it's reason for concern.

A brisk step out into the open, and the drell takes in a cityscape that's just as much smog and grime as he last saw it, expression unruffled besides the tiny tug of a frown at the corners of his mouth. After a moment, he makes his way through the crowd, maneuvering around the confused refugees with a sureness he knows isn't warranted, walking lightly and taking care to be as unobtrusive as possible. Best to find Shepard's lot again, piece together what happened from there. He'll pause to check his omni-tool from time to time, and those that are obviously out-of-place for the setting may get a curious stare. ]

Open!

[spellmight]

[ a minute ago, she had said good-bye to a good friend. to avoid dealing with that sadness right now, she is focused on this new situation she has found herself in-the strange metallic box she is housed in, and then, the hazy skyline ahead.

compared to the dragonbone wastes, it is bright out. she blinks her eyes against the glare of the faint light. the heavy bulk of her armor and weapons reassure her that she isn't dreaming. so then, what is this?

solona steps off on to the landing pad. the unknown has never daunted her, even if it has scared her in the past. with or with out her friends, she will find her way around.

and then decide as to whether or not she actually cares that she isn't in ferelden any more. ]

open

[fightforthelost]

[ There's the usual lurch as the Normandy slides in alongside a relay. Shepard's ready for the jump, taking a moment to feed his fish. It's probably going to be the last time he ever does so, and if there's one thing Shepard's learned in his hard life, it's to take pleasure in the little things.

He blinks, and then everything is different. He frowns, looks around, glances at the small bottle of fish food in his hand, and then the shuttle touches down. The door opens, and Shepard steps out to find answers only to find more questions when he recognizes his location.

Before he can turn around and demand the shuttle take him back to the Normandy (how the hell did he end up on a shuttle?) it takes off.

He moves with purpose toward the landing pad exit. There's just one person on Omega he wants to see right now, and she better have answers.

But he does pause and glance over his shoulder at the crowd gathering on the landing pads. Maybe he can find more of his crew. They'd all been on the Normandy just a short time ago after all... ]

open

[fifty]

[America still had his car keys in his hand. He was looking a little less entirely stunned on the landing pad than he had been in the shuttle, but every time an alien goes by--aliens, it was like he'd walked onto the set of the most realistic movie he'd ever seen--he can't help but watch them pass.]

Okay, so like, did I get beamed up somewhere or something...?

[It wasn't exactly out of the question, living with Tony, but this didn't look like any place that belonged to Tony or his friends. He cast about for someone who might have an idea of what was going on. Eventually, he just addresses the first person who passes by, alien or not.]

Hey, what's going on here?

OPEN

[gloriousandfree]

[She was still lost. The dream was still going on, though she didn't remember falling asleep in the taxi. She had just sat down, set Kumario on her lap, and the shuttle had appeared around her almost instantly. It did have to be a dream right.

She was still dressed for the party, in a long red dress and a short sleeved cardigan against the chill of January. Her polar bear was almost clinging to her leg, sniffing the air and looking just as confused...This must be a television set. A movie. Why would she dream about a movie.]

...I must be lost. Or dreaming...I suppose this would be a strange place to dream about. America is the one who likes these things

open!

[askedtobe]

[ Peter was in every possible way, horrified.

He looked ten degrees of ill, pale and murky and eyes darkened from lack of sleep - or more accurately, from too much of it - and he'd practically plastered himself to the wall of the shuttle, trying to figure out where he was and if he'd gotten here of his own volition or somebody else's. It hardly made sense when it made all the sense in the world at the same time. He was supposed to blow up New York, why was ending up... well, here, be any different? Maybe not the reason, but the action. Impossible means that had become possible, but neither of them were supposed to happen.

As it landed, Peter was practically shuffled out onto the landing pad on wobbling legs, not wanting to follow the herd of people's movements but not wanting to stay either. Staring at the thing in his hand for a second before he turned and hesitated, Peter tipped slightly and stared towards the horizon, his eyes widening in degrees. He stared for a few long moments before the reality of it nearly bowled him over and he froze, unable to even try and look away. ]

Did I do this?

[ Whipping his attention back to the shuttle and then once more towards the city set into the distance, the roots of buildings as tall as those in New York, Peter stayed glued to the spot, refusing to go any further without a significant amount of encouragement. Because the thing was, not all the buildings were set into the ground -- the tops of others were hanging down like stalactites and none of the others shuttles landed came even close to being distracting enough to rip him away from the sight. Not that he was expecting anyone to push him along, not really, but he wasn't going anywhere until he got his bearings, and that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon. Trying to inconspicuously look at what others were doing, Peter scrambled and started digging into his pockets, looking for his cell phone. ]

This can't be happening, I can't be here. I can't.

open

[backstabbing]

[she's one of the first in her vessel to leave as soon as the doors open. it wasn't as though she had been panicking, by now she's come to expect the unexpected, but the turbulence was unlike anything she had ever experienced and that coupled with the lack of windows was enough to make anyone a bit green at the gills.

right? it's not just her? because if that were the case damn how embarrassing. captain of a ship, a woman who has sailed worse storms than any could possibly imagine, feeling sick because of a tight enclosed squeeze of a shuttle.

so she takes a second or two to collect herself, sitting herself down on an abandoned block of something cool and metal as other newcomers scatter about like rats without heads. but as soon as she's feeling well and good and she has her land legs back, she looks up. her brows furrow, obviously confused because this is certainly not something she's ever seen (and she's seen a lot of things). she rises, hand on her hips while the other rubs her cheek. she curses underbreath.]

Shit. Where in the Void did you wind up this time, Isabela?

[a quiet rhetorical question to herself. but answers are always appreciated, of course.]

[gabriel_gray]

[ The cloying closeness of other people was difficult to process at first. It was the first challenge that Sylar had to overcome, after all the last few people he'd come upon he'd killed without hesitation, invading the Company, killing Bob Bishop--he was ready for a fight.

He'd been teleported, there was no doubt, but Hiro was nowhere in sight. Nobody seemed remotely interested in him. These people, who sat and stood as the vehicle swayed and struggled through its descent, weren't responsible for his being here, but without proof Sylar didn't intend to let them go.

The touch down was gentle, comparative to the swaying in flight. Sylar had landed in high wind before, the plane making a sudden swing to the right, wheels skidding across the runway as it touched down; that was the kind of landing he'd been expecting. Being turned out onto the landing pad presented him with another problem, the dispersal of the people he was trying so hard to keep his eyes on. If one of them had brought him here, his chance to discover them slipped away, leaving him only with disappointment and a foreign sky. An alien sky.

This was wrong. He knew that people could travel to the future, but this was wrong, and he wasn't prepared to accept it as real quite yet.

His words were muttered under his breath, thoughtful. ]

We're all mad here.