A circular breach swells open in the lift pod wall in front of you, and you step into...
You see before you a round, softly lit room not much bigger than everything within it. There is currently only one ship here, a black, sporty little fighter/cruiser with runes painted under the pilot's hatch, and the word 'Hrimfaxi' painted below that. The Hrimfaxi is carefully cradled within a slight mound in the room's ground surface. The air is pleasantly warm here, and smells (oddly enough) of green, growing things. The walls have slow, intermittent sheets of color traveling across them in lazy, wave-like patterns, except for one spot on the wall from which you have just emerged, where there is a non-changing circle of white, to denote where one may wait for the lift pod.
You get a vague feeling of something nearby... calm, placid, unworried... and big.
The low ceiling shimmers with liquidly flowing color. The floor seems to emulates a dark rubber matting, except around any ships, where it swells up a bit in order to carefully and firmly support. The white circle is slightly taller than the average person, and is surrounded with slowly swirling waves of color. It is a sobering thought to realize that Superstition's body is all that stands between you and the black, inky depths of vacuum outside...
The ground seems to undulate slightly, just for a second... or did you imagine it?
Standing next to the Hrimfaxi is Solbiort Freyjasdottir. She glances incuriously at you, then clicks open the hatch and climbs in, with an easy economy of movement that speaks of years of familiarity with this little ship. As you watch, Solbiort finishes strapping into the little flier and closes the hatch with an audible, sharp click! A moment later, her ship sinks silently, eerily downwards into the floor, absorbed by Superstition... In your head you can see what Soli sees, as Superstition allows you to share her sensory input...
...and for a moment all you can see outside the enclosing little ship is darkness, all that can be felt is a gentle sense of motion... then suddenly normal vision returns, and you are drifting next to the Superstition, with a long, organic pseudopod slowly retracting from your ship. You start your engines with a powerful whine of turbines. You are headed for Furry Prime, on FurryMuck.
|Your senses return to your own body with a slight jolt. It's time to move on... back to the lift.|