OoC: For the sake of the continuation of the RP (and because of it's hectic nature), if you haven't posted in it for over 10 days, your character is fair game to be killed off or forgotten. Which can be very inconvenient. So post often. I will be using Camilla for this one. Please limit it to one character.

EDIT: ALSO, you don't need to necessarily read the first one, think of this as season two Instead, just have your character be abducted, and wake up aboard this ship. Give a little expose about who the character is, have them hear the spiel; you know, for cinematic purposes. Once we have enough on board, the ship will land.

SECOND EDIT: I guess if you want to read the original crap, it's here. There, now you don't have to search.

BiC: Camilla remembered running. There was lots of running. In her panic, she didn't even think to unstrap her leather, let her wings spread; she thought only to run. She was terrified. What came after was not of the world she was used to, nor was it of any world she knew of or had heard of. The technology seemed both human and living. The harvester, as she assumed it was, seemed to be at least partially organic. So she ran. She obviously didn't make it all the way, though.

She awoke, regretfully. She attempted to stand, managed to do so, and noticed that the floor was soft and spongy. Indeed, it was made of a strange blue fiber woven atop an unusual metal. She jumped a few times. She got dizzy quickly from moving too quickly too soon, but it was fun. Her leather bind was lying, folded neatly, on the floor next to her, along with her other vestments. In fact, she realized, she was completely naked. As she looked about her, she noticed a hardly-disguised two-way mirror. She realized then that her nudity was an attempt to humiliate her, a prerequisite for some biological scanning, sheer perversion, or all three. She didn't really care, though, so that took the edge off of one of those possibilities.

"Camilla Arabella deRiveur." a voice droned. The quality of it did not seem human, but it didn't seem garishly inhuman, either.

"That's... me?" she responded timidly.

"We know that, it was not a question," the voice responded. The noise seemed to be coming not from a speaker (or from the two-way mirror), but rather from the surrounding growths. It was some sort of algae, it appeared. She realized, then, that her paranoia had gotten the best of her. The mirror was not a two-way mirror at all, but merely a normal mirror. But then... where was the man behind the curtain?

"Wh... why am I here? What do you want from me?" she questioned, putting her bind, cloak, and boots back on.

"You're here to participate in the second intergalactic, inter-species War," the voice answered, in a calming (almost soothing...) voice. It, again, seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. "You have been specially chosen for your uniqueness, and will be put to the test. The War of the Races, as the event has come to be known, will be publicized and glorified. Only one will survive. That is the way it is, that is the way that it was.

"Of course, there has been a regime change since the event on Nerrab. As such, this event will be slightly different from the one that you may or may not have seen before. More efficient, with less... materialistic promises. If you win, you will survive. There are no prizes here. This is truly a study in human, hybrid, alien, demonic, and... other... nature. This is not to say that you aren't to be as creative as possible, of course.

"But we wonder," it continued uninterrupted, although Camilla took note of whoever it was using the term we instead of I, "how long will it take before you understand the necessity of taking another's life? Will you kill, or let yourself be killed? There are no alternatives.

"Now go back to sleep, Camilla Arabella deRiveur. We will wake you when we arrive at our destination planet, Detalosed."

Now that the entity mentioned it, Camilla was still rather tired... and the fiber was so soft...

A general sense of peace overwhelmed her, and she was out before her body hit the floor.