James "Jim" Shannon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dinosheriff) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ten_fwd2015-09-15 09:42 am
dinosheriff) wrote in ten_fwd2015-09-15 09:42 am
Entry tags:
1st Case ~ Ten Forward
Jim stops in his tracks, confused…
He waits there for a long moment, listening, frowning under the black fabric cover over his head. His wrists were still bound with cable ties, and his ribs hurt like hell… A couple were fractured, definitely. He could feel one pressing against his lung as he breathes in, wincing slightly with each breath. An automatic reaction. Normally he wouldn’t like to show any weakness in front of Mira and her Sixers, but… this he can’t help.
…Speaking of Sixers, he’s been stopped for a while. If he wasn’t going the pace his Sixer escorts liked, he’d get jabbed in the shoulder with a sonic rifle… At least, that was how it was when they found him. Maybe they were where they wanted him to be?
It didn’t explain the strange noises he was hearing…
Shifting, wincing again, Jim raises his arms, hesitantly. When there was no immediate backlash, he hooks his thumbs under the lip of the fabric bag covering his head and moves to remove it.
To the occupants of Ten Forward, seeing a man remove a sack from his head whilst his hands are tied may be slightly amusing. The rumble of light chatter in the lounge has died down as more people notice the scruffy, dishevelled man, who looks like he’s just been released from prison.
A young Tellarite ensign stands, walking over to Jim, frowning slightly. “Excuse me, sir… Do you need assistance?”
At the words, Jim freezes. He’s not alone, obviously, but that wasn’t something a Sixer would ask. Was he back at Terra Nova? Probably not. He would have had the bag removed and ushered straight to Taylor for a scolding once they noticed it was him. Shifting a bit, he shrugs slightly.
“No, no… It’s fine. I got it.” And he does. He manages to shove off the sack, it falling to the floor behind him… And then he double-takes, stepping back, as he sees the Tellarite standing in front of him.
“Woah-!” A pause, there, as he considers who, or what, is standing there. “S-Sorry.” He manages to blurt out, as the Ensign inclines his head.
“Don’t worry, sir, I’ve had worse reactions from humans. Do you need any more assistance?” He sounds concerned about Jim’s well-being, at the very least… his mental health at worst… At least, that was the impression Jim got.
“No… I’m… I’m fine. Just a bit disorientated. Thank you.” The Tellarite nods and moves on, back to his table, as Jim looks around the lounge, frowning.
“Now… where the hell am I this time?” He mumbles to himself, working to strip his hands of his zipties. Once free, a hand instantly goes to his ribs, tenderly patting at them, wincing. "Definitely broken."
He waits there for a long moment, listening, frowning under the black fabric cover over his head. His wrists were still bound with cable ties, and his ribs hurt like hell… A couple were fractured, definitely. He could feel one pressing against his lung as he breathes in, wincing slightly with each breath. An automatic reaction. Normally he wouldn’t like to show any weakness in front of Mira and her Sixers, but… this he can’t help.
…Speaking of Sixers, he’s been stopped for a while. If he wasn’t going the pace his Sixer escorts liked, he’d get jabbed in the shoulder with a sonic rifle… At least, that was how it was when they found him. Maybe they were where they wanted him to be?
It didn’t explain the strange noises he was hearing…
Shifting, wincing again, Jim raises his arms, hesitantly. When there was no immediate backlash, he hooks his thumbs under the lip of the fabric bag covering his head and moves to remove it.
To the occupants of Ten Forward, seeing a man remove a sack from his head whilst his hands are tied may be slightly amusing. The rumble of light chatter in the lounge has died down as more people notice the scruffy, dishevelled man, who looks like he’s just been released from prison.
A young Tellarite ensign stands, walking over to Jim, frowning slightly. “Excuse me, sir… Do you need assistance?”
At the words, Jim freezes. He’s not alone, obviously, but that wasn’t something a Sixer would ask. Was he back at Terra Nova? Probably not. He would have had the bag removed and ushered straight to Taylor for a scolding once they noticed it was him. Shifting a bit, he shrugs slightly.
“No, no… It’s fine. I got it.” And he does. He manages to shove off the sack, it falling to the floor behind him… And then he double-takes, stepping back, as he sees the Tellarite standing in front of him.
“Woah-!” A pause, there, as he considers who, or what, is standing there. “S-Sorry.” He manages to blurt out, as the Ensign inclines his head.
“Don’t worry, sir, I’ve had worse reactions from humans. Do you need any more assistance?” He sounds concerned about Jim’s well-being, at the very least… his mental health at worst… At least, that was the impression Jim got.
“No… I’m… I’m fine. Just a bit disorientated. Thank you.” The Tellarite nods and moves on, back to his table, as Jim looks around the lounge, frowning.
“Now… where the hell am I this time?” He mumbles to himself, working to strip his hands of his zipties. Once free, a hand instantly goes to his ribs, tenderly patting at them, wincing. "Definitely broken."
no subject
"This time?" he asked politely, as he was standing a bit nearish the guy to hear him. It's always interesting when they say things like 'this time'.
no subject
Assuming, of course, they have those here.
no subject
Eh.
"Maybe next round it'll be everyone'll be preg.... Nope. Not finishing that statement."
no subject
"Alright, fine. I'll find one myself." Jim mumbles, turning away.
no subject
He waved a hand. "No, it's fine. I can show you where they are. I just get distracted sometimes."
A lot of the time.
no subject
"I'll just look it up on this computer." He points to one of the LCARS monitors on the wall.
no subject
no subject
Sorry, Alec. First impressions count with some people.
ooc: so have I ever mentioned to you how much I loved Terra Nova? :3
At first, he doesn't take much notice. It seems like more than the usual amount of people have shown up over the last two days, some in worse shape than others, and it's had everyone on alert (not to mention tensions are still a little high after the Klingon attack from earlier in the month). He trusts that the crew knows how to handle things. But when he looks up and sees the new guy, it's not the sort of thing he can just ignore. He doesn't need any spoken word to tell him this guy has just come from some kind of prisoner situation.
He respectfully stays out of it until the new guy dismisses the officer. Fine or not, he's gonna need some help eventually, and Steve figures another human breaking the news might go over a little easier given his reaction to the ensign. He stands up and makes his way over.
"Don't worry, the disorientation only lasts a month, 6 tops," he jokes dryly, holding out his hand in part to show the guy he's not carrying any kind of weapon. "Welcome to the Enterprise. You need to see a doctor?"
no subject
"I'd shake, but I kinda don't want to mess yours up." He comments, before wincing again. "And, yeah. A doctor would be great."
no subject
"You've been here before?" he asks, taking Jim's remark more seriously. He carefully studies his movements and expressions. Jim doesn't seem to move like someone in a familiar setting; he does, on the other hand, remind Steve of some of the men he served with during the war -- the POWs, the 1st Infantry reserves who moved with the shell-shocked confusion of the nearly dead. Steve glances at Jim's hands and smiles amiably, shaking his head. "Don't worry, I've crawled through enough foxholes and dug things out of the East River Navy Yard Basin that clean hands are a rarity."
He pulls back, though. Gives Jim a polite nod, and points to one of the doors at the end of the bar. "There's a medical bay on Deck 12, I can show you the way. The name's Steve Rogers."
He'll keep it simple for now, before he asks about the hand ties and sack and what the hell Jim just came in from. If in no other way, Steve knows not to push someone who could be just this side of a living hell.
no subject
But the portal doesn't go both ways, right?
"I dunno. You seem pretty clean to me." Jim remarks, shifting. "Jim Shannon." He says, in response to Steve's name. "And, yeah, medical bay would be appreciated. This some kinda... ship?"
He's remembering the name Enterprise, mostly from history class, some echo of the past he probably dozed through, or was so long ago he can't remember fully. A ship, or something...
no subject
"You've been moved," he nods, but his expression shifts into placation, one hand rising palm forward. "But not under custody, and not in whatever settlement you just walked in from. I don't know if you've got interstellar travel where you're from, but, uh. You're on a spaceship."
Eyebrows high. Either the guy will shut down or call Steve crazy. Either way, he's not going to give him much time to decide. "Nice to meet you, Jim. Yeah, medical bay is a few decks down, if you follow me I'll show you the way." A beat, and a wry smile. "And explain some things."