ships_counselor: (Imzadi ♥ Respectful Colleagues)
[personal profile] ships_counselor
The greatest man I never knew, lived just down the hall
And everyday we said hello, but never touched at all
He was in his paper, I was in my room

How was I to know he thought I hung the moon

Part, The First

The day had been long, but neither extremely good or bad, hard or easy. A day, like any other day, slotted away. Her files checked and double checked, both her own and those of her whole counseling team. Her log for the day made and saved. She hadn't yet found her sleep clothes, but she'd sat down, brush in hand, as she turned the comm on and told the computer to call Beverly.

A conversation with Beverly before bed, one that didn't have to be work or checking in, and could be all at once for both of them, too, and whatever else it needed or wanted to be would be nice. A perfect foot note to end it all, and send her to sleep.

Deanna yawned, and started brushing the bottom of her curls, as the comm connected, and a voice said, "There's my Durango."

[ locked to Deanna & Ian Troi ]

Part, The Middle

After the call ended, Deanna sat for there staring at the off screen. First, convincing herself any of it had been real, and then, after that, after trying to stack it up next to everything else bizarre, but still real, that had happened since Q commandeered The Enterprise, tried to commit everything to memory, like it was sand slipping through her fingers already.

His voice. His smile. The way he moved.

She didn't know how long she sat there, or how many times she reached up to wipe a tear from her cheek, or when exactly she'd finally pushed up and left her quarters. Needing to talk to Beverly. Or Will. Whichever she happened to get to first. Someone else. Someone other than her own head.

[ ** Open to All As She Walks ]

Part, The Last

Deanna stopped at Beverly's door, still dazed, still in her work clothes. Her fingers pressed the chime, and she said, as though hearing her voice from so far away, "It's Deanna."

[ locked to BFF Beverly ]
last_ofthe_jedi: (esb: what's that you're doing?)
[personal profile] last_ofthe_jedi
Feeling like your life isn't falling apart anymore is great for one's well-being, Luke is finding. He has more energy and drive to do things he enjoys, and he's more curious about the things and people around him. The nightmares are still there, and the tiny shadow of fear hiding in the back of his mind that makes him jump at small things, but they're gradually fading.

He's found that most of all, having Cash back has helped more than anything, as well as being near his family.

Meditation helps too and Luke knows it's the Jedi way of doing things, but he generally hates sitting still for too long. He only allows so much sitting around in his daily routine before he needs to be out and about, doing something else.

The Enterprise is chock full of interesting things to do and explore, and while Luke is fascinated enough by the ship itself, he's decided that he wants to explore one feature in particular: the holodecks.

He's used them before on multiple occasions, but now he wants to try his hand at designing his own program. Just a simple one to start. The holodeck's database already has a space flight program. All he has to do is attempt to model a T-65 X-wing starfighter from memory. While he knows X-wings well, remembering every single detail will definitely be a challenge. If he only gets it mostly-right he'll be satisfied for the time being. Unless he can get a reference somewhere, it'll have to be a work in progress.

The door to the holodeck he's working on is wide open, and inside can be seen a simple hangar bay. Docked in the hangar is a long-nosed starfighter on its landing struts, double wings locked together and long, angular cockpit hatch open.

While it definitely resembles an X-wing, to anyone who's familiar with the ship, it's not quite right. Luke knows that, of course, and he can be found wandering in circles around the ship, giving a continuous stream of instructions to the computer.

"... bigger... bigger... uh, too big. Go back. Okay, stop! Right there. Perfect. And uh... this edge right here should be more angled. Just a little. Maybe by five degrees. Uhhh... try ten degrees."

Closed to Captain Picard; )
forcefullyunstable: (notagoodperson)
[personal profile] forcefullyunstable
For all the people he encountered - the Jedi woman he killed, the others he tried to kill, the assassin droid that tried to kill him and the pair that finally got the better of him in that medbay - all he had now were three bland walls and an electrified barrier. The force was no clearer to him than it had been when he first found himself aboard the ship. Even his lightsaber was gone.

He tested every square inch of that room until his fists were bloody and his boots had split. He must have shocked himself a hundred times. But eventually, every tantrum must subside. And Kylo Ren did calm down.

Two weeks, someone in a yellow shirt said, followed by counseling sessions and close surveillance. Two long weeks.

Will anyone pay him a visit?
ships_counselor: (Default)
[personal profile] ships_counselor
At least that's what they say, right?

Who really would brook this order if given the chance?

Certainly not them, and certainly not the very confused officer on duty at the transporters in the middle of the night, when they appear. Bags slung over a shoulder. Clothes entirely civilian, and summery. Even though they could not appear more different, or count themselves as not well known by everyone on the ship, their smile at the officer's confusion at the hour and request makes them twins in their only nearly held in check laughter.

"Two to beam down to the planet."

[ Locked to Beverly ]
ten_fwd_npcs: (keiko o'brien)
[personal profile] ten_fwd_npcs
Enterprise's Head Botanist Keiko's Log, stardate 46172.364: My time on Pacifica was quite rewarding, and with the permission of a number of the locals, I have several new samples to study going forward... )

"Keiko's log, Stardate 46172.799,

"I have been working with these samples for hours. I have replanted all of the whole plants and have had my assistants working on properly labeling them with the information I was provided. The cuttings have been arranged and labeled for study. My hope is that Dancer, at least, will prove a fitting candidate for replanting in the Arboretum, however the evasiveness of the locals is making me hesitant. The more I think about it, the odder they seem to have been acting about it.

"And they aren't the only ones. Maybe I'm just tired. I should be tired, but I don't seem to be. I feel fine; happy, in fact. But it does seem as though everyone else has had either a little too much to drink or a little too little sleep. I understand that we are all excited to have had the chance to visit the planet and to gather samples, and it is exciting work studying them, however...

"I will be contacting Doctor Crusher if things do not change. There had been an incident on board the ship on Stardate 41209.2 where a widespread infection caused crew members to act as though they were intoxicated. We are all now inoculated against that, though, so whatever is happening now, while similar, does not seem as drastic or as quick to build. I will be setting this file to auto-send to Doctor Crusher if I have not canceled the command by 0800 tomorrow. I do not feel as though I am infected, of course, or I would have quarantined myself and my staff. It is always possible that they simply imbibed too much while on leave. Normally I might have an issue with this, but we've all been dealing with a lot recently, and there was a wedding. So long as everyone is sober and accounted for tomorrow, I will let it go. I'm in too good a mood to be angry, anyway.

"I have been working with Beachrunner mostly, though the others have been focusing on Dancer. I want all eyes on that one to unravel the mystery as soon as possible. Miles came in about an hour ago, and was so taken with the beauty of it that, rather than asking me when I was returning for dinner, he took one of the blooms to put up in our quarters. I almost stopped him, but he seemed so happy, and it was one of the ones from the tourist market. If there is some reason they should not be spread about, it is probably too late already. And he thought I would like to have it there. I have a wonderful husband.

"The only issue we have discovered so far with Dancer that could account for anything is the scent. When kept in an enclosed space the scent grows quickly to an almost unbearable level. It is pleasant, but too much of even a good thing is still too much. One of the techs has opened the vents and rerouted the ventilation system to circulate the air. Miles said even the corridors smelled nice as he came in.

"I am going to work some more on Beachrunner tonight, before I look over the Dancer notes to prepare them for the report to Doctor Crusher tomorrow. You know... one of these blooms would look quite lovely in her hair. I wonder why I didn't think of that before.

"Computer, end log."

It has been one full solar day since Keiko's last log was made, and in that time things aboard the Enterprise have grown truly unusual. The ship is well out of Pacifica's range by now, returned to open space, but things are not back to normal.

News of the Botany Lab's breakdown has spread by this point, as any are invited to help manage the issue.

[OOC: Party Post! Come get your top-levels and scenarios below! This post signifies the end of our February plots with some cool-off time before March begins. Hit up the OOC comm if you have any questions.]
and_she_waited: ([R] and he will wait for her forever)
[personal profile] and_she_waited
On Valentine's Day, one can enter a lounge on a spaceship docked outside a beautiful blue jewel of a planet (which can clearly be seen out the windows), and see that it's been made over with candles and linen tablecloths and red rose centrepieces. It's not anything as grand as Q would do. Amy is using the romance of the room: the windows looking out on Pacifica, soft lighting, and like last year she's even managed to find a trio to play music in one corner of the room: flute, cello, and violin.

Walking in, there's a sign:

♥    BLIND DATING TONIGHT, 19:00*    ♥
Party to follow at 23:00*!

A ginger beauty in a red dress is standing by with a sheet of those name tags you stick on your shirt that say HELLO MY NAME IS ______ and a clipboard of seat assignments. Not all the tables are taken (the woman in charge, Guinan, insisted the room stay open for other patrons), so those meant for the blind dates have numbers tucked in the centrepieces. Amy's taken mostly tables around the outside of the room, where there is the best view of space and a little privacy.

Table 1 - Luna Lovegood & Noriko Ashida
Table 2 - Ed & Alex Rogan
Table 3 - Kale McCallum & The (10th) Doctor
Table 4 - Trever McCallum & Ishka
Table 5 - Olan'atar & T'Pol
Table 6 - General Chang & Aeryn Sun
Table 7 - Marion Scotts & Thor Odinson
Table 8 - The (12th) Doctor & Aidan Nichols
Table 9 - Islington & Merlin
Table 10 - Deanna Troi & DJ
Table 11 - Kristen Kringle & Booker DeWitt
Table 12 - Jacqueline "Jackal" Egret & Dimo
Table 13 - Bob Fraser & Cridhe
Table 14 - Grainne O'Brian & Harry Dresden
Table 15 - Thea Queen & Kitt

If your name is on her list, you'll get a name tag and a little card with your table number on it. "Here you go. The bar's open while you wait, I bribed Guinan t' have out the real stuff, so you can tell her I sent you. No gettin' carried away, though. And no funny business, you treat your date with respect or I'll have you by the ear before night's out. I'll be 'round if you need anything."

Once everyone's been checked off her list, she's going to settle at the bar and have a drink. Match-making's hard business, but each time she does it she gets a little sense of satisfaction. Once the dates are over for the evening, she's looking forward to kicking off her heels and turning this place into a dance party.

* That's 7PM and 11PM respectively!

> Going Stag top-level!
> Open Tables (OTA) top-level!
> Galentine's Day DANCE PARTY OTA top-level!
> The OOC Sign-Ups/Announcement
tea_earlgrey_hot: (wear it proudly)
[personal profile] tea_earlgrey_hot
Captain's Log, stardate 45115.6: The Enterprise has been sent to Pacifica at the behest of Governor Delaplane and the Pacifican Council, to oversee the renewal of the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security between the Federation colony and the planet's native inhabitants, the Selkies. The results of this redesigned treatise will ensure the continued peace of Pacifica for another one hundred and fifty years, and I consider it my great honor to oversee the proceedings.

In the week since the Enterprise docked in orbit around Pacifica, representatives for both the Pacifican government and its tribal council have been brought to the Enterprise as our distinguished guests, where negotiations have taken place without incident. Now, the negotiations shall move to the underwater city of hi'Leyi'a for the final week of our stay here, and as is customary among the Pacificans I will become their guest and dine with them tonight at a banquet where many of their local delicacies will be presented. I am very much looking forward to the opportunity...

"End recording." Picard rises from his desk and makes his way out of his ready room, leaving command of the ship once again in Commander Riker's capable hands. Lieutenant Worf is already in Transporter Room 3, making the necessary arrangements for Captain Picard and his small complement to be beamed to the planet's surface. Those from the botany lab engaged in studies on Pacifica have already gone down, along with a number of the ship's civilian life, which has been keeping both their transporter rooms and shuttlebays quite busy as requests are made to send people down, back, and sometimes back down again several times a day.

He sighs as the turbolift doors hiss shut behind him, and after a moment's pause requests: "Ten Forward."

As eager as he may be to dine on Pacifica tonight, the privilege for a captain is always accompanied by an obligation—a duty—to endure certain dishes that may not always be what one would consider... palatable. It is a small sacrifice every captain and ambassador of peace must make in the name of diplomacy, and for it he will need several bracing cups of tea.

It is an unusual sight for many, perhaps, but Captain Picard is occupying a table in Ten Forward with a full tea service set in front of him, and an entire table full of empty chairs. One might say that in itself was inviting company.
fishermansweater: (Annie - For the bride and groom)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
Much like it has for other weddings and parties, the lounge has been transformed. The tables have been rearranged to open up a dance-floor, and the decorations are done in turquoise and white, with nets draped over various corners and hanging down from the ceiling and gold and silver accents here and there. There are also touches of whimsy, like the lights shaped in the form of sails (or is it shark fins?) and the little shells and plaster starfish, crabs, dolphins scattered around the place. Maybe even the occasional tiny boat. Nobody who knows Panem could doubt which District the bridal pair come from.

Although District Four wedding traditions call for a small gathering of family and friends, Annie and Finnick have opened the party up to whomever wants to join in, no matter if they know them or not. Announcements have been made and posted, and once the guests have returned from the reception, the party is ready to start.

Everyone's welcome. There's drinks and a buffet full of snack food chosen by the bride. And the dance floor is well and truly open. So come in, find a chair, find some friends or make new ones, and enjoy yourself.

[ OOC: PARTY POST. Everyone is welcome! Come, mingle, eat, dance, drink, have FUN! Feel free to chat to the happy couple, but they're a tiny bit lost in each other at the moment, so make sure you specify if you want one of them and we'll send them to say hi!

There are designated sub-threads for mingling at the buffet and for dancing but feel free to start your own top-levels with other things too. ]
ships_counselor: (Default)
[personal profile] ships_counselor
Unlike many of her federations counterparts, Deanna has never needed much prompting where it came to getting out to enjoy the beauty and respite the universe could offer her.

Whether it was that she'd been raised in a lush, beautiful surrounding since birth, or that her adventurous spirit, that had brought her to the Federation in the first place, had a chance to strike out for itself, and not her work, it couldn't be said.

Deanna would probably say it was both,
and a credit to herself and her profession.

Though, honestly --

Deanna isn't saying much of all at the moment.
There's isn't much to say when one is busy...

...laying on a white sand beach,
wrapped in silk and soaking up the sun.
ethnobotany: }{ first contact ({ i'm broken inside)
[personal profile] ethnobotany
(( OOC: potential content warnings all over this for mentions of horror game content, telepathic violation, telepathic control of another, sexual harassment, death, etc. Basically, the doctor is not having a good month. ))

The only good thing to have come of Zelien was the ability to deal with horrific and traumatizing events as they happened. Afterwards is another story. Beverly had thought that being able to deal with the events themselves meant that she could deal with everything Q conjured up for them because it was over. She thought she would be fine.

She was wrong. She was so wrong.

The thing Zelien had yet to teach her was how to deal with the aftereffects of trauma. The nightmares flare again, worse than what Q had offered them recently, and even shadows make her twitchy. Memories, fears, anything traumatic that her mind could conjure up, it did. People might not want to be around her this month. She startles at the slightest movement and sometimes her instinct is self-defense, protection, because her mind remembers Zelien and the cultists, the soldiers who jeered, leered, called, and harassed.

The nightmares have her wrestling with the sheets, memories of Jev the Ullian -- was that his name? Have they been here yet? Does she need to prepare for that? -- or Ronin, different contexts, but both violations of her mental self. Of course, both lead to other nightmares of her husband's dead body or some Victorian man about 35 years old not only forcing her into his bed, but forcing her to enjoy it. Sometimes Wesley dies in place of Jack and she wakes up sobbing. Sometimes Jean-Luc's lifeless body haunts her, the Borg come in to take over the ship yet again, or the entire crew is systematically murdered to torment her. The last to die is always Jean-Luc because her subconscious mind knows that his death will haunt her the most. These and others cause her to bolt out of her quarters in the dead of night out of sheer, blind panic, heading for somewhere she can feel safe.

Most of the time, she can be found in a corner of the Arboretum. Here, she is either asleep, though it's a fitful sleep that she wakes easily from and often in a state of terror; sitting with her hands over her ears and eyes squeezed shut against that feeling of panic; or sitting with her knees tucked up to her chin and a dead look to her eyes while she stares straight ahead. When she isn't there, she might be in the holodeck, using a program of an open meadow. No walls or buildings will be in sight, not even that new cabin that she would so love normally. She remembers so clearly those buildings on that campus, remembers the sights and sounds and smells of the acid. Stomach acid. Like the buildings were alive and trying to eat them all. At least the meadow means nothing will be eating her alive. When she isn't in either of those places, she's likely in the gym, practicing Mok'bara to meditate and calm her nerves. Intruders might want to make their presence known before they startle her. Beverly is back to being twitchy and that means nothing good will come of it. What she needs are distractions, as many as possible, and people who are willing to work with her trauma.

She'll get better over the course of the month, but in the beginning and middle, she is not doing well at all.
ships_counselor: (Default)
[personal profile] ships_counselor

You'll find the Counseling Offices, and it's Counseling Staff run by Counselor Troi, located on Deck 8. A message which has been passed along to the new arrivals and those who've been here for longer several times. From their first appointments in sickbay after arrival up to the newest happenstances since then, which continue to lead to a greater need.

For those entering for the first time, you find these offices are of subdued, calming green walls with equally unobtrusive light purple furniture, and gentle ambient light. Each of the rooms has an assortment of chairs, tables, and even a snaking reclining couch, which may be used for sitting or laying down on as you feel called.

Nothing to worry about and no pressure from the moment you walk in.

They're here to help as best they can.

[ooc: Counseling Sessions are, as will be always, OTA and open for backtagging! Like the Sickbay posts, you can expect one of these every month, so no stressing if you can't make one, we'll be back next month.

For new characters/players: tagging and counseling is NOT mandatory. Deanna Troi is acting as head of the Counseling Staff, but all staff are available to you. If you have prearranged to be meeting with a specific counselor, tag in specifying which counselor are requesting in the subject line, otherwise one will leap at you as they are available. All your information and questions about the Counseling Staff can be found here.
treadswater: ([F] no one sails alone)
[personal profile] treadswater
Content Warnings )

In which a nightmare about the 75th Hunger Games finally gets Finnick and Annie to talk about the games, the loss of Mags, and what hope there is for the future.

In which Steve comes looking for Finnick, worried after not seeing his roommate for a couple days: Annie is less than helpful.

In which Annie asks Erik | Magneto to watch over Finnick while she goes to investigate getting Finnick some help*

In which Annie goes to Beverly for help, and Beverly takes her to talk to Deanna.

*thread still in progress
ships_counselor: (Default)
[personal profile] ships_counselor

You'll find the Counseling Offices, with their newly added Counseling Staff, located on Deck 8. A message which has been passed along to the new arrivals several times. From their first appointments in sickbay after arrival up to the newest happenstances since then, which continue to lead to a greater need.

For those entering for the first time, you find these offices are of subdued, calming green walls with equally unobtrusive light purple furniture, and gentle ambient light. Each of the rooms has an assortment of chairs, tables, and even a snaking reclining couch, which may be used for sitting or laying down on as you feel called.

Nothing to worry about and no pressure from the moment you walk in.

They're here to help as best they can.

[ooc: Counseling Sessions are, as will be always, OTA and open for backtagging! Like the Sickbay posts, you can expect one of these every month, so no stressing if you can't make one, we'll be back next month.

For new characters/players: tagging and counseling is NOT mandatory. Deanna Troi is acting as head of the Counseling Staff, but all staff are available to you. If you have prearranged to be meeting with a specific counselor, tag in specifying which counselor are requesting in the subject line, otherwise one will leap at you as they are available. All your information and questions about the Counseling Staff can be found here in their recent OOC post.
ships_counselor: (Default)
[personal profile] ships_counselor

The look of Deanna Troi's table is worrying.

Maybe not to the untrained eye, of course. There is no screaming. There is no bleeding. There is no fighting, or crying, or deep distress. In fact, Deanna Troi, herself, is currently sitting at a table, one forearm resting on the table, the other balanced on an elbow, so her chin can rest in the palm of her hand, while she studies a PADD flat on the table in front of her.

Next to it, though, is a small bowl of chocolate ice cream.

That looks to have melted a while ago without her noticing.
tea_earlgrey_hot: (pondering)
[personal profile] tea_earlgrey_hot
[Captain's Log: stardate 44371.2.

Previously, during a COS meeting...

“Are you alright, sir?”

"To be quite honest, I'm not sure."


ooc: This meeting immediately follows the one posted previously. Just a bit more to go now! As the stardate might suggest, this PL is backdated to about two weeks ago.

tea_earlgrey_hot: (wear it proudly)
[personal profile] tea_earlgrey_hot
[Captain's Log: stardate 44371.2.

"During the beginning stages of all this, I believed it was in our best interests to humor Q.
But his recent interference has shown that I can no longer afford to wait for him to tire and leave of his own volition."


ooc: Otherwise titled, "And the Plot Thickens!" First bit of IC set-up for the upcoming events, more to follow. As the stardate might suggest, this PL is backdated to about a week ago.

ethnobotany: oh sorry captain didn't see you there }{ first contact ({ eliminate the ball that i'm chained to)
[personal profile] ethnobotany
The last week was very literal hell for everyone in Zelien. Between the Eldritch horror, the rain of COMPASS monsters, and the cultists, survival was difficult for seven days. Well, survival in Zelien was always difficult, but it seemed much more so now. The days passed by so quickly and yet so slowly, to the point where each hour bled into the next, each day bled forward and Beverly fully lost all track of time. Nothing was safe and after living even a short time like that, even the most stalwart of people couldn't take it forever. So when the frantic man with white hair came through the mess advertising a serum that would take them through to COMPASS' realm where they could, theoretically, defeat the organization and get everyone to safety, if not home... to say she had jumped at the chance would be an understatement. At least, after she had ascertained that the serum wouldn't do any damage to anyone. While she couldn't be absolutely certain, she was sure enough and it would be better than their current options. With the serum in her system, she had followed the frantic man.

One side of the portal was Zelien. On the other, she found herself being tossed a good few feet and then dropped, landing on her back with a whoosh of air. With the breath knocked out of her, she takes a few seconds to recover and in that time, security is called to Ten Forward. Her phaser rifle sure does stand out. The altercation when she tries to stand is short, her surprise and a touch of fear being the largest reasons she resists so hard at first. Eventually, she relinquishes the weapon, snapping, "Okay, okay! Take it!" They like that better, leaving her to get reacquainted with the middle of Ten Forward and the stares of whoever happened to witness the scene.

Once she's gotten the idea of what's going on, has dealt with something else, and has managed to accept the idea that this might not be a hallucination from the serum or COMPASS using one of her most important memories against her, she heads for the replicator and a cup of Earl Grey tea. She hasn't honestly had anything that wasn't canned pears, coffee, or creamed corn in so long. This might be overdoing it, but at this point, she's given up caring. After a moment's thought, she replicates a croissant to go with it. Both she'll take up to a table in the corner where she can, hopefully, sit in peace and get her head on straight. Looks like she can finally have a cup of coffee and a croissant tomorrow. For the first time in weeks.

For anyone who might want to approach, she doesn't look entirely unapproachable. She is tense, though, extremely so and she's noticeably facing towards the room at large with her back to the wall, watching people with the gaze of someone who has learned not to let her guard down too much. It'll pass and in time she'll be back to herself. Right now, she's just on the edge of a breakdown. Good thing she has that medical training to separate her emotions from a situation, right?

After getting more food and drink in her than she usually gets in a day in Zelien, she finally takes a deep breath and decides to go ahead with something that needs doing. This... will be difficult, but she needs to do it. For both of their sakes.

"Crusher to Picard." Pause. "Do you have a minute, Jean-Luc?"

She uses his first name in her request to show that she's coming to him not as his Chief Medical Officer, but as his friend, as a friend who needs him. Because she does. If there's anything in this universe that she needs right now, it's as many friendly faces and people as she can gather, people she can be sure of. That and she does have a lot to tell him.
captgreatcoat: (Sometimes he drinks)
[personal profile] captgreatcoat
Nobody's seen much of Jack lately. He's been quieter, more subdued, more prone to keeping to himself, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat and ....

Rose would have called it brooding. Gwen probably would, too.

Rose is gone. Gone back to her time, perhaps. But who knows? She'd just disappeared. He should know better than this, now, to be so attached to people, but Gwen would say that's what keeps people human, and human is something he doesn't always feel. And Rose Tyler was one of the best people he'd known in so many lifetimes' worth of living. She'd taken a con-man and helped show him how to care again, how to live, how to love. She'd had adventures with him across time and space, been his best friend and his best girl though nothing more than friendship had ever officially passed between them, at least not in the confines of 21st century Britain's understanding of relationships.

Rose is gone, and he doesn't know if he's sent her to her death by not warning her.

To anyone who truly knew Jack, the sight of him in his Second World War era coat perched on a barstool with a glass of brandy might seem ... out of place.

He's not breaking his self-imposed not-drinking-unless-he-really-needs-to rule, though. It's synthehol.

He'd probably be better off talking to someone.
ten_fwd_npcs: (Default)
[personal profile] ten_fwd_npcs
As the fight rages on, the pain and anguish of all involved grows to deafening levels; that is, if you're attuned to such things. For the alien travelers and the scientists who work on Alemar III, the threat of extermination is ever-present. But for the crystal "monsters" wreaking the damage, their only goal is revenge.

The high-pitched humming that comes from the Crystaloids may only seem like resonance, but it changes, fluctuates, in both pitch and intensity. It's a language in itself, expressing anger and pain and fear, and when the fighting reaches its peak so do the thousands of voices. For the gathered empaths, that means a cacophony of emotions and thoughts that no one else can understand.

It's Counselor Troi, pushed to the edge of the room where she has been protecting others, who first rises.

"You're intelligent," she murmurs, almost like she's speaking to herself. But she isn't. As understanding dawns on her, she knows she cannot sit idly by while the violence continues. Without much thought for herself, she rushes into the fracas. "Stop! You all must stop! You don't understand!"

Something suddenly changes in the Crystaloid's behavior. Sharp fists and teeth and claws stop their attack, and the humming grows quiet. It's a message, sent to them telepathically and spoken aloud, that finally ends it all: "I can hear you."

[ooc: This is the final party post for Day 3 of our Alemar III plot! You can still tag into Friday's post or make your own posts throughout the day. This will be for the culmination of events following the last battle, so find a subheading that appeals to you and jump in (there will be a few locked to specific teams just to wrap up their plot objectives, but these will be clearly marked). Later tonight, an exit post will be made. See the OOC Plotting Post for more info.]
ten_fwd_npcs: (Default)
[personal profile] ten_fwd_npcs
Something strange begins to happen underground. Those pretty, glistering crystals that twinkle from the walls and ceilings start to move, sinking down into the rock, and disappearing from all sight. In each cave and cavern, every arching ceiling and cramped tunnel, they all vanish.

The main cave where the visitors were brought during the tour feels darker now. It has weathered the trauma of the last three days better than some places, but that's all about to change.

[ooc: And welcome to the kickoff of our final leg of the Alemar III plot! Day 3 has officially begun, which means all team posts moving forward should reflect that. Below, this post is split into two sections: the first is for any teams or individuals who want to establish themselves as being in the main cave for the final action of the plot; the second is for our teams of fighters and all who wish to assist them. Bear in mind that the historians and empaths won't step in to reveal what's going on until the next group post; this is primarily for the last battle and gathering all the fractured teams back together. If you're not sure where your group is, check in with your plotting e-mails or the plotting post; if you don't want to join the main group until the fighting stops, the next post will also have a place for your characters to enter and reconnect with friends. If there are any questions, leave them in the plotting post and a mod will get back to you asap!]
ships_counselor: (Attention)
[personal profile] ships_counselor
The preparations for a Rescue Team on the Enterprise are as quick and efficient as drilled, divided into tasks of those who were preparing to go down and those, staying behind, who were preparing the influx of wounded. Everyone waiting for any news, and acting on what information they had within the confines of the orders given by the Captain.

Officers, medical personnel, and a handful of guests whom The Captain had approved all possible emergency supplies quickly loaded into the shuttle. Orbit was easy to attain, but coming down the destruction could be seen long before they reached the ground. A sprawl of destruction made of fallen structures and deep cracks stretching out through the land.

There's conferring between the pilots, before it's announced they can't raise the shuttle bay, or anyone inside of it, and the closest alternative isn't too far from where they should have been able to touch down. It's going to be a good walk or job away, but it's flat and it looks safe for landing and waiting before they'll be loading people back into it.

Once they are on the ground, Deanna was up and headed out, wincing a little at the odd ringing in her head. It was mostly likely all of the people, but it was odd all the same. High pitched and hazy, but stronger, and not all at once. She pushed it back to focus on the group in front of her.

"We're going to need to split up. Ms. Blake and Mr. Barnes, you'll be together. Ms. Gemini, you're with me." Everyone with a few others in tow. Heavy lifters, and medical. "Use your PADD's to help you navigate your way to the pockets of those who are trapped and stay in contact as often as the situation down below will let you. The more we know, the easier we can send more people if you have a problem or need more support."
tea_earlgrey_hot: (Default)
[personal profile] tea_earlgrey_hot
[ooc: With liberal manipulation of time, this post is happening near the middle of Day 2 of the Alemar III plot, specifically for Team #10's use but not locked to them if another character needs to talk to the captain. Just poke me on Plurk or AIM if you have questions/requests!]

Captain Picard will admit that not having heard from the away team for a full solar day has him on edge, though he was told to expect such interruptions in communication. The last few messages he received were garbled at best, affected by the planet's unique atmosphere. He doesn't like it. Something feels very wrong to him.

He's spent more than the usual time on the bridge of late, waiting for a message to come through. When one finally does, it's from the Trill-Betazoid officer of the Pathfinder, Lt. Commander Terzen T'Karr, rather than a member of his own complement. That alone would have him concerned, but the message that follows, albeit patchy and unclear, does nothing but confirm his ill feelings. There has been an accident, an earthquake from the sounds of it, and many individuals have been trapped. Immediate assistance is requested.

"Lieutenant Worf, go to yellow alert and assemble a team of officers to go down to the planet immediately," he says, heading briskly for the door. He taps his commbadge on his way out. "Counselor Troi, what is your location?"

Not long after, the doors to Ten Forward slide open to admit the captain.
tea_earlgrey_hot: (appraising)
[personal profile] tea_earlgrey_hot
Captain's log, supplemental: we are approximately one solar day's journey from Alemar III. At our current speed, we should arrive there before nightfall tomorrow. Commander La Forge reports no continuing problems with our engines, so it would appear that my conversation with Q was not without purpose. Though there have been no further incidents, the crew is preparing for any eventuality. This will be the first time near an alien world for many of our visitors, and no doubt they will be curious.

I have taken it upon myself to pay a visit to Ten Forward. While I trust that my crew have been taking good care of the situation, I find that it often puts minds at ease to see the captain engaged in what is happening. Hopefully, the evening will pass without incident.

Captain Picard enters the room in his standard uniform. He lingers at the door long enough to appraise the situation, and moves on to the bar.

"Just tea, thank you. Earl Grey," he says, wishing to keep his mind clear.

The Counselor is In

2014-Jul-11, Friday 10:09 pm
ships_counselor: (Default)
[personal profile] ships_counselor
It's been a long day. A long few weeks. While the crew adjusts to this newest predicament, and the number of new people arriving on the Enterprise continues to grow. The situation itself taking its toll in dozens of different ways, displayed out from the Senior Staff, at work on the many parts of the problem, down to the appointments she just finished with, whom had the limited information and even less control of present circumstances.

A situation never far from her mind, given the discordant disharmony of emotions localized to certain parts of the ship. Growing at times, but remaining a fixed mass of wary fear, deep confusion, and shifting anxiety of those who had been brought by Q to this place against their will.

It's not without purpose that Deanna finds herself striding through the doors of Ten Forward.

She could use a meal, and she's certain the people there could use friendly faces.

Counselor Troi's Ten Forward posts are open until she has another one. Feel free to hit it at any point post-publish if you have needs to the counselor, as she is in Ten Forward most evenings at your disposal.

Deck Ten: Ten Forward

2014-Jun-20, Friday 09:13 am
writes_with_digital_ink: (line by line)
[personal profile] writes_with_digital_ink
There comes a time when even a person who has narrowly escaped being blown up with her ship by being flung into the future needs to stop moping about in bed. Even when moping is totally and completely understandable under the circumstances, no, really, Gaila, get up.

Which goes a way to explaining why the Enterprise's lounge is up one Orion techie. The replicator refuses to give her a uniform, so she's wearing a bronze tunic over khaki pants. Still, she's wearing the earrings she came in with, as well as her Starfleet boots, and there's a black armband around her left arm out of a sign for respect for all those who died.

Not that Gaila is trying to think about the Battle of Vulcan. Instead, she has a cup of hot chocolate that's been turned red by the amount of chilli pepper she's stirred into it, and she's found herself a seat by one of the windows.

Baby steps to socialization. At least she's out of the room she's grabbed.

[ooc: for how I'm handling Orion pheromones in-game, see here. Open until I say otherwise :-) ]

(no subject)

2014-Jun-09, Monday 07:31 pm
empathic_pathfinder: (shit)
[personal profile] empathic_pathfinder
Walking into Ten Forward is a man who looks as though he belongs there, wearing Operations Gold, looking down at a Tricorder and a PADD, not really paying attention...

...Until he grunts, bringing the hand with the Tricorder up to his head, stumbling slightly into the bar, grabbing it to brace himself.

That was a sudden emotional onslaught. Going from a crew of 30-odd to over a thousand? That would cause any empath a headache, at the very least. Terzen? He's screwing his eyes up, concentrating, trying to drown out the feelings, the emotions pouring into him. A lot of it was confusion, a little bit of anger, fear... But he was forcing it back and down, before reaching to tap his combadge.

"T'Karr to Bri..." And he opens his eyes, looking around. "...dge?"

This looked familiar. A lounge of a Galaxy-class Starship? A second ago, he was leaving Engineering on the USS Pathfinder, a Miranda-class, after recalibrating the subspace array...

What the hell is going on?
tea_earlgrey_hot: (grumpy cat)
[personal profile] tea_earlgrey_hot
Captain's Log, Stardate 43289.1: While en route to a Federation planet half a lightyear from the Neutral Zone, the Enterprise has agreed to bring a relief crew and needed supplies to the scientific outpost on Alemar III, where scientists have been readying geothermal fields for drilling. If successful, they could potentially deliver enough clean energy to power the entire planet...

Captain Picard takes his seat on the bridge, while the rest of the crew see to their stations.

[ooc: This isn't an arrivals log, so no tags please. For authorized Enterprise crew only, thanks. :)]

Ten Forward

Welcome to Ten Forward, a pan-galactic, pan-fandom social lounge for the weary intergalactic traveler. Set on the Enterprise (NCC-1701-D), any character from any established or original canon may appear at random. The fun is what happens next.

(This is a role playing community. Please visit the profile for more information.)


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