Tor awoke to a loud hiss. As he looked around his surroundings several questions came to mind, but only one haunted him. "How long were we out?" He looked around some more and found his gear and dog tags. He let out an audible sigh when he found his Brandish along with his gear. It was the only thing he had from home and he'd rather die then lose it. As he equipped and sorted his gear he took note of a med-bay, several knights were already there. Tor would normally avoid others, but his questions were too dire. Wanting to ask a few things he walked over, he stopped halfway to the bay, a fierce wave of nausea took over. "Cryo-sickness." He thought bleakly. As he regained his composure he walked over. "How long were we out?" His voice was rough and his tone was straight to the point, it could easily be blamed on his time in stasis but with Tor that was always the case.

"...fine..." says a slurred female voice, before from the third cryopod a young lady appears.

"I estimate...long enough...*hic*...to say that Isora is dead and gone...*hic*..."

With black hair, lake-red eyes, and a swarthy skin tone, Lavinya had stumbled out of the cryopod before burping and smacking her chops.

"...I dunno...can we take a look at the schedule...or timaaaagh..."

She retches for a moment, but nothing comes out.

"...blegh."

She sits down next to Gammy, and leans on his shoulder.

"...hm...can I go to sleep Mommy? I'm tired..."

If there was any such thing as cryo-sickness, then surely, there must be something called cryo-drunkedness. That was, in Lavinya's case, what was happening to the young lady.

Before Gamma can reply, Lavinya crawls her way towards the wall rack, and promptly face-plants into the wire-mesh surface before dragging herself across it towards a flak jacket and a tailed helm, both of which snap themselves on after some rough coercion on her part.

Like an exosuit would, her body suddenly is supported into an upright position, though Lavinya may have very well been sleeping upright.

"...tired..."

Drunkedly, she turns toward Cherub.

"...geezer," she mumbled, "...you've got a baby face...cute..."

She then stumbles into the other side of the corrider, smacking herself straight into a cryopod. If it weren't for the helmet she was wearing, she would've drooled all over the thing. For a long moment, she goes silent.

When she does return to the speaking world of coherent thoughts, though, her comeback is with much sharper clarity.

"OH GOD, MY HEAD!" she yells as she bangs her helmet against the wall rack again, taking this time a massive retractable hatchet and a multipurpose axe / pickaxe / whatever it is. She has to speak in between pants.

"Three years...only three years...we're there...right? I-I mean...here."

Thing glitched and Dped again. Sorry about that.

Again? X.x

"Cherub." The other knight replied. "Wanna join me in the mess hall as well?" Tor quickly noticed the amount of knights that had gathered around him. "Sure, why not?" He said. He silently debated if this was the right choice, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind his stomach grumbled. "It definitely was." He thought to himself as he followed Cherub to the mess hall.

The muffled sound of groans, a metal clank and some shouts welcome Mundy back to life. Wait, shouts? What the heck, is the ship getting attacked or someth--
"RRGGNRRHnnn, huh....m-my fea-th-thers"

The first audible sound he hears in Vog-knows how long is some computerized voice:
"My apologies for the disconfort, sir. Cryo-taw procedures for Valkyries have to take into account many other fact--"
"Yes, yes, I get it. Nobody cares if I have to carbonize my wings during the freeze, yes, whatever!" The Knight shouts while crawling out of the Cryo-tube.

Mundy looks around and checks the cryotubes. Some empty. Most full. No one in sight. Figures, cryo-taw for normal knights is way simplier than for valkyries, so whoever was making that noise must have gone into the rooms ahead. It feels like his back is strapped to an ice cube. The youngster rotates painfully on the floor to see his allready sly wings contorcing rabidly. He cant even feel them....

"Dont worry, sir. The cryo-mode has been disengaged sucessfuly. I recommend you g---"
"Just file me the taw-threatment, I'll handle it."

The man recieves a holo-page from the computer and starts heading towards the med-cabin right ahead, only to realize that like the rest of the frozen crew, he's on his underwear.

"Sir..."
"Yes, I'm sorry."

He heads back to get his arsenal-box, and then checks it. Basic civil clothes. A set of Padded Armor, a Static Flash, his favorite Binoculars and that antique Magnus. Wait, no, there's also some empty Intel Tubes and a....

"It is a standart regulation that every Knight recieves a shield of his own. Sir."

Lavinya shakes her head.

"I've...I'll go watch over the others coming out; see if they get something worse than what I just had..."

"Hey! Wait up! Wait for me!" a quick shout rang from in back of the group. Tor turned quickly to see a female knight rushing towards them. "Why does everyone on this ship have to be so hyperactive?" Tor muttered. As the form of the knight drew closer Tor noticed she was holding a gun, a very big gun. It definitely wasn't standard issue. "Hey, Tor!" another shout echoed from the mess hall. As Tor turned to look who had called his name he went as white as a sheet.

It was Grey. Tor silently cursed, this wasn't good. He had forgotten Grey had become a bio-tech for the Orderd. He, or to more specific his family had known Grey on Isora. Which meant he was the only other individual on here besides Ozlo that knew Tor came from a family of war supporters. He quickly rushed over to the Bio-tech's position to shut him up. "What do you want?" Tor hissed at the bio-tech. "Can't old friends catch up after 3 years?" Grey asked. "You're usually more straightforward than this Grey." "Fine, fine here's the deal, you're one of the only people I actually know personally here so I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"

"What exactly is it?" the intrigue in Tor's voice picked up. "Well, since I'm a bio-tech, and we're going to a new planet I need samples of biological life there." "So that's where you come in, bring me some flora and fauna samples from down on the planet and I can get a jumpstart on my research before anyone else." Tor sighed, of course this would be about his research.

"Don't worry, I have something worth your time." Grey rummaged around in a sack he had been carrying and pulled out a visor and a pair of gauntlets. "This is all new top of the line gear from the Order." Both items were a chromatic black, and had a nice sheen to them. "The gauntlets are durable, and the inner workings are nano-woven, they won't impede swordsmanship, and they can also run on a power source, get a refined power source into both of those and you can hit harder." Grey motioned to two hollow slots on the gauntlets. "The visors are infra-red and night vision, it also has a camcorder in it, great for recon work." Tor rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll do the job." Grey patted him on the back. Tor quickly departed back to the circle of knights, but not before trying on the new gauntlets.

Lavinya gives Cherub a little frown, but smiles and shakes her head.

"...I'm...I mean I was a rescue worker. Also served as a reserve Guardian. My job is...or was, supposed to be here, as my training dictated..."

She takes the arm off her shoulder, and gives him a playful spank before running ahead, shooting a cheeky grin.

"...but, if you insist, I'm also trained at playing games."

Looking over the small group of Knights, I realised I didn't know them personally. It would be best to check their ID's so that I know who and what I'm dealing with, and who I can trust to have my back.
> Scanning Knight ID Codes...
>. Matching Serial Number with known files...
>Error. Could not access Personal Info #13794436816932100-ALB7.
>Error. Information overload. (Kora trying to prevent hacking.)
I lost conciousness for a few seconds, as a few sparks flew out of my neck. Hopefully, nobody got hit by the sparks, but it is entirely possible...
I check behind my shoulder, to see (Something something Filia something.)
"Sorry for the malfunction- this is my first bootup, so there may be some issues."
Meanwhile, I start giving everyone nicknames to fill for the missing info.

WhiteHair: Good leadership, whether or not the role is desired is yet to be seen.
Gauntlets: Cautious, almost Melancholic... Secrets better left hidden.
Teddy-Gun: Clumsy? Long Range fighter.
Wings: Stiff/Strict. Slow; Left behind in Cryo Chamber.
Freeze-Drunk: Susceptible to poisons easily...? Not enough Info.
Blanksheet: Close to no info, Low Pain Tolerance.
Doorholder: NON_INITIATIVE_TAKER DETECTED. TAKING_ACTION.

I put a doorstop in the bottom of the door, and pry him loose from the door, and then nod in satisfaction.

(IM DYING HELP ME DID SKYLA JUST CALL FILIA "Teddy Gun"? AND "not initiative taker detected" LITERALLY HAD ME LAUGHING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH ME)
_____

Filia yelped in surprise as a spark of blue energy flew out of one of the other girls, hitting her in the face. Apar from a slight sting, not much harm was done. While she rubbed her tender cheek, the girl smiled awkwardly and said, "Sorry for the malfunction- this is my first bootup, so there may be some issues." After taking a moment to process those words, Filia ran after the "girl" and reached her at the door. Skyla had just relieved Titan of his little task as doorman. Filia twiddled with her fingers awkwardly, hoping the large rifle strapped to her back wasn't too intimidating.

"Pardon me... Your first boot up, you said? Are you... Artificial intelligence?" Turning her attention to Titan, she examined him closely. He was wearing some sort of minimalist Jelly Armor, along with a strange pair of gloves and a Swiftstrike Buckler. Adjusting the strap along her shoulders so Warhawk didn't fall, Filia extended a hand to the man. Most of the other Knights had just barreled into the mess hall without so much as a thank you to Titan, and she sensed that he probably needed a friend right now.

"Cryo-stasis fully disabled."

CLUNK! "Ow!" Ragnir had lifted his head up to exit the pod, only to hit it on the not-quite-open glass. "Sheesh..."

"The pod has been opened. Please claim your gear and exit the chamber."

Ragnir stood up, climbing to his feet and walking toward his Arsenal Box. "Hoy, uh, announcer... guy! How long was I in stasis?"

"Three years, sir."

"Three- what? Sheesh, what took 'em so long? Meh, doesn't matter." Ragnir donned his armor and tied his shield to his back, then lifted his weapons and stowed them in their respective holsters. "Right! Time to... whoooo..."

Ragnir had managed to stave off the cryo-sickness for a bit, but now he was feeling it. "Steady... steady... okay, that's steady enough." Still a bit groggy, Ragnir made his way out of the chamber, walking past the poor guy that got stuck holding the door.

Once outside, Ragnir spotted someone with wings. One of the Valkyrie? Maybe? Meh, at least they probably knew where to go. Ragnir began walking toward them at a quick pace, trying to catch up. He needed to get in contact with someone, after all, and the group in front of him looked like a good place to start.

Den took a few shuddering breaths, and his body convulsed with twitchy spasms. Unsteadily, he crept back up, off the ground, eyes narrowed unseeingly at the ground. A few shambling steps later, he collapsed again, a few feet closer to a lone medical bunk.

Gammy walks over to the creamer. She looks side to side before taking a sip. she then walks to the plates of food. she took an apple and some pudding. She sits on a chair right next to a table, and begins to eat.

Filia hissed in pain as several drops of steaming hot coffee fell upon her sleeve, the heat burning her even through her sash. However, she was aghast when she saw how wet Warhawk had gotten, and immediately began wiping the rifle with her shirt. "Oh no, oh no no no..."

"I'm SO sorry!" A knight said, a slight degree of fear evident in his voice. Filia turned and laid her eyes upon a very surprised Knight in a Flak Jacket and Crescent Helm. Her hand shuddered visibly as she continued wiping Warhawk down, then ventured up to her ponytail and fiddled with it. She smiled awkwardly and replied, "It's okay, really." Glancing at the rifle, she continued, "It's nothing much, but I'm glad the scope wasn't damaged. It takes a lot of time and effort to integrate the kind of of adjustments I made to it..." A sigh of relief escaped the girl's mouth, and she said slowly, "Well... I'm Filia. Nice to meet you, I suppose."

(OOC: Does This look clunky to you? Oh well.)
I laughed a little at Doorholder's concealed amusement. "There is no need to hold back, It's fine!" I then burst out laughing, as I moved to the side.
My wry grin and concentration was broken by the spilled coffee for a moment, but this was perfectly normal- Everyone was still in the state of waking up.
Passing by, I realised none of the cooks were up, meaning that the food everyone was eating currently probably wasn't warm nor tasty- Due to the quality of standard "Military Rations".
I walked into the Mess Hall, passing by everyone to get to the kitchen-ey part of the room.
I put on the Apron and Gloves that were left out, checked the cooking utensils for mold and backteria (It's been 3 years...), Momentarily forgetting that bacteria would be killed by the heat.
Thankfully, the cooks were smart enough to use the Freezer instead of the Refrigerator.
I set the beef in the pan, and turned the stove to High.

A sigh of relief escaped the girl's mouth, and she said slowly, "Well... I'm Filia. Nice to meet you, I suppose." After that whole speech Tor knew that she was an expert with that rifle of hers. He suddenly found he was even more grateful that it wasn't trained on him. The other female knight to her left quickly surged forward farther into the mess hall.

After a few seconds of watching he found that she was starting to cook breakfast. "Sure as hell beats the rations." Tor said happily. "I'm going to get something to eat." he said, motioning towards the growing line at the mess hall. This had put him in a surprisingly good mood. He looked at the giant knight and the sniper then motioned. "We have a group at the mess hall already, want to join?"

The computer made it clear that he passed the right amount of time heating his wings, but they still felt cold. Regardless, feeling and controling them were a thing now, so they stopped flapping. After putting his Padded set and effort-fully packing his Intel tubes, Binoculars, bomb, gun and shield around himself (takes some real skill to look cool with all this junk), Mundy headed to the Mess Hall, allready feeling butterflies in his stomach from hunger.

On the way there he passed along a medi-bot holding a knight suffering from some extreme nausea.

"Its surprising how much the effects can vary from isorian to isorian. I once heard a space colonist came back to Isora drunk because of the cryo-sleep..." he whispered so low that no one other than a machine would capture that comment. Of course, there was a machine to capture that comment. And it wasnt just the medi-bot.
"The effects mostly differ based on the health and mind conditions the knights are when the procedure starts. Inboard research from our main AI "Skyla" shows that, for example, entering the cryo-freeze while thinking about carrots may lead to temporary jaw-muscle shutdown after waking up."
Leaving out a sigh for having to reply to that cpu again, Vakarian just decides to go with it.
"Skyla? Ah yes, the experim--"
" That's classified data, sir. I suggest you dont expose it while near a person."
Realizing he might have just let out that he's been doing some underground scooping on the Order's assets, Mundy shut his mouth even before being stopped by the computer. Hopefully, it wont be advanced enough to dig any deeper into this.

Arriving at the Hall, the Knight entered prepared to salute to an officer, and found a climate completely officer-free. Lots of chatter from packs of Cobalt Joes (they seemed to have woken up from another sector of the Skylark); spilled coffe on the floor next to a woman's chair; in short: enough movement so nobody notices the fully-geared Knight standing still next to the door, looking around with an intrigued face, trying to find the superior in charge of all this.

Um, ok...at least four knights with proto armor, definitely not higher-ups.
Some lady obssesively rubbing a hunting rifle. Not a higher-up.
Wait, is that the Cherub?...ok, it is, and for some reason hes playing tag with a proto-girl. I wont interrupt him.
Oh, Serah!

Taking a few steps towards Serah's side of the table, Mundy promptly salutes, "Vanguard Serah", and sits next to some shy knight the "Knightress" seemed to be talking with.

Finnaly catching up to the informality of the group, Vakarian crosses his arms and legs and bends back against the chair. By then, his stomach is screaming in anger, if that's even possible. Thankfully, the sound of frying meat in the kitchen quarters ensures Mundy that he wont have to pick these tasteless military provisions everyone else was stupid enough to open up.

By now, I had added the Bell Peppers, Carrots, Soy Sauce, A pinch of Cinnamon, and Squash.
The aroma was wonderful, but it was a shame that I could not eat.
The Rice was still cooking, to compliment the Meat, Sauces, and Vegetables.
Thankfully, Quick Heat meant that the rice would be done in a matter of minutes, while the rest of the food was already done.
I turn off the heat for the stove, and exit the kitchen.
"I've got some fresh food done, Come get some!"
Hopefully, the Beefy goodness would be more appealing than the Tac Bread, MRE's, and... Pudding?
I cross my arms, skeptically.

Den's eyes widened and he flipped over, retching briefly. But that was irrelevant, because he was on his feet, eyes twinkling. They were finally awake!

The brush of wings drew his attention, and a smile lit up his face. Caught up in a zealous scrambling, he fell over, quite close to his expelled stomach fluid. Clearly, his legs were still numb. With a smidgen more of caution, he got to his feet, running after the departing figure.

"Oh!" Den ran back, thanked the mecha doctor with a brief bow, and ran on to the Mess hall.

Den popped into the guild hall, eagerly looking around at the awakened crew. A subtly rumble of his stomach reminded Den that he hadn't eaten in... quite some time. Without much delay, he was down, eyes flashing over all the faces as well as all the food sources. Everything was all so exciting!

"...cute name for a cute boy..." she whispers as she pulls herself closer to him, just inches away from his face. Admittedly, while it WAS a little hot for a woman to be breathing on a man, her breath smelled as rubbery as the plasticized material that had once been her blood.

"...oh, your breath..." she jokes, apparently having picked up on this fact. As a way to get out of his breath, she pulls herself just so she can stand on her own, and presses the side of her lips next to his earlobe. Her voice is mostly drowned out with exhilarated breathing.

"Aralon. No one else has that surname. Now let's get a bite to eat, cupid."

With that, she spanks him again and makes her way towards the line for the kitchen; within there, the pantry. She was fixing for even an MRE.

"I guess everyone is just to bussy to answer a simple question..." Chael sighed, even in a flood of knights, not a single soul actually noticed his presence. "Maybe i am using a reckon cloack, which i am pretty sure i am not" He shooked his hat and followed the wave of the sea of isorans. He actually ended up in the mess hall, and it suprised him.

"So they don't answer because it's obvious? " Chael's face turned red in shame. As usual, he got worked up to quickly. In his days on isora, he have opened a huge hole on the wall. All because of a simple interogation misunderstanding, but that is another story from another time.

He saw a line of knights waiting to get some ration.

Might as well follow them then. It works once why not twice?

And he lined up behind them, waiting for something un-sure.