backdated to Sunday

2016-Mar-29, Tuesday 12:50 pm
reincarnshaman: (Oh Wow!)
[personal profile] reincarnshaman
A father's day chat

There's a scream from Trever's room followed by a long series of cursing. Among other things including "Morrigan's fine feathered ass!" and "This is crow fucking unbelievable!"

Trever, looking like he'd seen a ghost, backed out of his room holding a long sword shaped like a feather. A raven's flight feather to be exact.

Then he ran down the corridors screaming for Kale.

So, there's a red haired man with a sword screaming for a cabbage.


After having found his missing cabbage, Trever and Kale are in ten-forward. The sword is laid out on a table and Kale is examining it with a scanner hitched up to a laptop. Their conversation seems to run around the following subject:

"It can't be it."

"It is it."

"But it can't be it! It was lost in Fairy!"

"Well, apparently no one told it that!" Kale snapped. "But it is!"

((Feel free to encounter Trever running or the twins in Ten Forward, either one or both.))
techno_galen: Galen posing with staff (posing with staff)
[personal profile] techno_galen
Galen has had enough. He can't do most of the things he's used to. He doesn't know most of the things he's used to. He can't help or hinder. He doesn't know whether he's on the right side. His tech works erratically, with no obvious cause.

He's riding around on the turbolift, standing at the back, looking imposing all in black, with his staff held in one hand.

It helps him think. And he's stuck a probe to the wall opposite him. It will give him eyes in the back of his head, for the one thing he can be sure about is that his probes work when he is nearby. It bothers him that his probes only work when he is nearby.

Riding around on the turbolift will tell him when his tech stops. And when it stops, so will he - and then he'll find the source.

Should anyone else try to use this turbolift then he will use the opportunity to extract information from them. If enough people know a little, then after a while Galen will know a lot. And to put them off balance a little, whenever the doors open, he sends a little gust of wind from the turblift, out into the corridor.

ooc: If your character isn't going to say anything to Galen when they get in the lift, he will say something to them.
resistancepilot: (prepping to fly)
[personal profile] resistancepilot
This isn't right. The bar looks like it could be a bar somewhere in the galaxy (though, to be honest, probably not one of the outer rim planets), and as for the aliens, well, just because they don't look familiar doesn't mean anything. He hasn't been over the entire galaxy, after all. It's possible there are still some species he's never come across before.

What makes this wrong is that he was climbing out of his X-wing just a second ago, and there's no way he could have made it inside in that time. There's no bar on this base, either. He's still in space, at least, if the stars he sees through the windows are any indication. This ship must be at least a large freighter, too, just based on the size of it. Something like what the First Order has. One thing he's sure of though is that this is definitely not a First Order ship.

At least he's still got his flight suit.

[ooc: If we had a thread going on the TDM and you want to continue it here, that works for me!]
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
[personal profile] themerlin
Who: Merlin and OTA
What: Merlin brewing tea, crafting clockworks, and singing to plants.
Where: The Arboretum
When: Recently
Status: Open and Ongoing.
Rating: PG-13, because Merlin

The heights of hope, the depths of despair... )
toomanynitrogens: (really not pleased)
[personal profile] toomanynitrogens
Aidan had spent all afternoon in the holodeck bakery he'd created for himself, making and remaking two elaborate cakes until they were as close to perfect as he felt he could get. And what's the purpose of gorgeous, delicious cake? To be eaten, of course. He set them both on a small cart and began pushing them towards Ten Forward. They'd be eaten the fastest there and honestly, he couldn't wait to hear what they'd think about his work.

But then something went wrong.

Maybe the ship hit a bump in its usually smooth flight. Maybe he took a corner too fast. Maybe someone wasn't looking and ran into him. Whatever the cause, Aidan and his desserts tumbled towards the floor. He reached for them, trying to keep at least one intact in its covered dish....

[OOC: The first cake is a Swedish princess cake and the second is a tiramisu cake. I'm open to any sort of reaction people want to play out.]

Ten Forward -- OTA

2015-Dec-02, Wednesday 08:59 pm
fishermansweater: (Coiled grace)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
Plenty of people have, by now, seen Finnick tying knots with either the rope Katniss and Guinan gave him or the hair ribbon that was a gift from Sinthia. On his bad days, that's still what he does: find a quiet spot somewhere and sit and tie knots, his whole being focused on the length of rope in his hand.

Today, he's also tying knots, but this isn't like that. Today, Finnick's sitting at a table that's scattered with gleaming golden things. One of them looks like it might be some sort of circlet or headpiece made of complicated knots. Others look like little figures: a turtle, a dragonfly, lots of different little flowers.

He's got a chair pulled out next to him, a skein of golden thread wound around its back, and he's cut a length off it that he's concentrating on weaving in and out and around. When it's done, though, he still doesn't look entirely happy with it, and he gets up to go to the replicator for a cup of coffee.

When he sits back down, he doesn't pick up his knots again, immediately, but studies them for a while. It's possible he could use some distraction. Or some advice.
dresdensluck: (Wizardry)
[personal profile] dresdensluck
Harry had been enjoying the quiet of late. Oh, there had been the nightmares, and the ghosts, and more, but for Harry that had been almost restful. His life, what was it? Harry was beginning to feel bad for not really wanting to go back home just yet. Sure, he would like the option, and to help others go home, but here, he had peace-ish-ness, and a girlfriend, who, with no evil shenanigans, was still alive, un-undead, and happy, with him!

He shook his head.

He was happy here, mostly, but he was also missing other people back home.

He shook his head as he settled to a table in Ten Forward, out of the way, but visible from the bar and replicators, where he was pouring over notes and slowly working on creating a spell. Which is to say, concentrating, and things on his table glowing, shifting, or floating around now and then.

Ten Forward

2015-Nov-20, Friday 06:29 am
thesurlyone: (confuse: what?)
[personal profile] thesurlyone
In the busy evening of Ten Forward, a new arrival seems to appear in a swirl of white lights, already irate at something or someone from her tone of voice.

Already, the brunette had a finger up in that classic position of a mother about to chastise her child and half of her sentence tumbled out of her lips.

"--you orb me, young ma--"

And immediately, Piper stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"Oh...kay...where did you orb me to now, Wyatt?" she quietly asked herself.

Piper took in her surroundings. Looked like a bar but it was definitely not P3. She hadn't thought about remodeling it lately and was pretty sure mock ups were not in the books for today. The furniture looked futuristic and, as she slowly made her way around, a small sense of panic rose in her chest. She couldn't call Leo right now. Oh no.

"Paige?" she called out cautiously. Piper reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears, hands at the ready.

Just in case.
stark_spangled: ([Casual] Hope I'm the right guy for the)
[personal profile] stark_spangled
Late last night, in Room #0914 )

When he works up the nerve to ask the computer the time, it responds with 4:45am. A little early for his routine morning workout, but after that dream he doesn't think he'll be getting any more sleep tonight. He dresses efficiently and is out of his room by 4:52am, heading straight for the gym. Today's workout will end up being more punishing than normal.

By the afternoon, he's a little more settled but still restless. Holodeck 5, the one closest to Ten Forward, happens to be free for once. He loads the usual program and steps inside, standing at the outskirts of the bleachers in Ebbets Field as the crowd goes wild. Eyes closed, he listens to the stamping of feet and the crack of wood sending the ball home, the tinny voice of the announcer calling the plays, and the cheers of everyone around him, until he feels like he can breathe again. "Computer? Can we get rid of the crowd?"

With a hum, the stadium empties in a second. Ebbets Field is quiet, chalk lines fresh and undisturbed. Steve smiles softly, and moves down the steps to get to the field, leaving his sweatshirt on the rails. It's been a while since the last time he played ball.

[ooc: Practice game! It's going up a tad late because my weekend exploded, sorry Ten Forward you're gonna get more Steve in a few days. It's terrible of me, I know. Steve's just tossing the ball around tonight, anyone is welcome to join in and practice with him and ICly get invited to play on Wednesday. Wednesday's post will be organized into teams. If you have any questionnns, hit me over here and I'll try to have the teams posted in the OOC comm by Tuesday evening! :D Oh, and if you want to catch Steve before he hits the field just for a chat, you're welcome to do so!]

Two Haunts for One

2015-Oct-30, Friday 07:48 pm
engineermage: (Oh Wow!)
[personal profile] engineermage

Kale is kicking a football down the corridors. - Not the American football, by the way. It's bouncing off his knees and before getting knocked down a little before he catches up with it and moves it down some more. Then he hears the fluttering of wings and the croaking of crows and ravens. He misses the football, spinning around as he could have sworn he saw the shadows of said birds.

He shook it off and caught up with his football... before he saw the flicker of branches and the creaking of something else...

This time the football gets kicked out hard and sent flying down the hallway before he jumped backward. He dropped into a nervous crouch, eyes wild.


Trever, meanwhile, is in Ten Forward, carrying lunch in one hand, reading off of a PADD and cat on his shoulder. Then he heard the creaking of branches and the husky whispering of "McCallum..." He dropped the PADD and lunch, yanking out a knife.

"McCallum..." the voice whispered again.

"Dara...?" he asked cautiously.

He could swear, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw trees reaching for him and something swinging in the branches.

The most upsetting thing is that this isn't the first time this happened to him. Unfortunately, he's not drunk this time.

((Pick a twin! Let me know in the comment who you want.))
youwillbe: (It's not easy being green)
[personal profile] youwillbe
It would be easy to miss Yoda's presence. He is, after all, only 0.6 meters tall. People have to look down to spot him.

Of course, to anyone who does look down, he's rather unique looking. Small. Green. Wrinkly. And, for some reason, dressed in the sort of sailor suit a toddler might have worn in the 1920s. Zelien had been hard on clothing, and for someone his size, replacements were... ecclectic.

This wasn't the swamp. After the business in Zelien, Yoda was expecting to finally be back in the swamp and spending a few years contemplating everything.

It seemed the Force had other ideas though. Except... something is wrong here. He stumbles slightly as he steps forward. "Quiet here, the Force is."

And without that connection to the Force, he really remembers that he is 881 years old. And that's hard on any body.

Android Arrival

2015-Oct-18, Sunday 10:23 pm
redarmorhunter: (Default)
[personal profile] redarmorhunter
For a moment, it may look like there is a pile of interesting rust-red metal parts laying upon the floor of a corridor. Then, from them, there is the start of a humming sound. Parts move, and what is now obviously a powerful hand becomes an even more powerful-looking fist. Slowly, a strange looking head lifts from the floor.

"Diagnostic statement:" comes an electronic voice, "systems returning to functionality. Unit is active." Then there was a pause as the machine pushed itself up to its feet, with what was very clearly a rifle in its hands.

"Querulous statement: Master, you didn't need to power me down. I could have-" then he -somehow, it was very definitely a he- looked around, photoreceptors taking in every detail. The weapon comes up to a semi-ready position, and the machine is very, very clearly ready for a fight.

"Declaration: Come on out, you ridiculous schuttas. Whatever you precious little Sith think you are doing, it's too late. The last battle of Malachor is over. The Master has seen to that. I have seen to that."

Then he looks at his own arm.

"You deactivated my flamethrower," he says, with very clear annoyance. "And I appear to be lacking my stock of grenades. Just as well. Because when I find the people responsible for this indignity, that would be entirely too fast a response."

HK-47 had arrived. And he wasn't happy.
ashes_ascended: (darkness into light)
[personal profile] ashes_ascended
Who: Phoenix Kaelen
What: He's just got here.
Where: Corridor outside a holodeck. (Locked to Alec Troven in Ten Forward.)
OOC info: OC. Here's a direct link to his tenfwd-specific profile. (Which is now unlocked)
Permissions: Here:
Warnings: This character cusses like a sailor, and his narrative is in the style of his inner voice, so it too will contain cussing.

Open to all: )

Locked to Alec Troven )
student_lighter: (Default)
[personal profile] student_lighter
Chris had replicated a pen and padd of paper--it just felt weird to work on spells on a PADD and he couldn't afford distractions. Trying to help Trever last night hadn't gone well, but hopefully he'd show up today for their 'date' AKA the only way he could get the man to sit with him and brainstorm about how to break whatever magic had hold of him.

So, Chris was in Ten Forward, a couple of pieces of paper spread over the table, each containing a different spell or potion, or some combination of the two. He had a couple different spells and potions for sleeping, a spell to discourage a lover and remove gods from mortals that he had found in the Warren Book of Shadows. But he was still concerned with how any magic he did might react with the magic already working on Trever.

Chris bit his pen, and twirled it between his fingers, frustrated. Maybe he could find a leprechaun? They could use a little luck.
ethnobotany: + jean-luc | well isn't this awkward }{ attached ({ let it fill the space between)
[personal profile] ethnobotany
The holodeck party had been designed as a funeral-type gathering, originally for Fatima and Beverly to let go of some of the trauma they had incurred at the hands of COMPASS. It had evolved since then, turning into a larger party without losing its original purpose. Spread mostly by word of mouth, the party ended up being larger than Beverly had expected, but likely just what Fatima had wanted. All were welcome, as long as they didn't cause trouble.

The setting was the streets of New Orleans in the 1920's. In the middle of one large street was where the party would be held. There were tables with all manner of replicated food. Annie had offered to find out what would be good to set up and they had used her information to find something that nearly everyone would like. Drinks were the same. Plenty of Earth varieties and plenty of others. Surely everyone could find something to enjoy.

There were plenty of holographic people around as well, dressed to the '20's fashions, or as close as this far in the future could get. Some of them introduced the music and the dance floor. It was more of a dance street than anything, but it counted. Everyone was welcome to join them and the party turned into a bit of celebration amidst everything else. The music itself kept changing, rotating through what the Enterprise systems had on file. One minute it might be classical. The next it was something entirely different. Everything imaginable would probably have played by the night's end.

Or whenever the party actually ended.

A little bit away from the main drag, the holodeck had been programmed to create an alley between two brick-walled buildings. Unrealistically, the alley was clean and dry. Illuminating it were three trash cans along one of the walls, filled with kindling and crackling with golden flames. Holographic flames, of course, as much as Fatima had wanted to use the real thing. By the cans was a small table, with slips of stiff parchment and pens in every possible color there was.

It had taken some doing, but Fatima had programmed the holodeck to include a chalk drawing on the wall over the cans. It was a swirling pink and purple and blue rendering of the Milky Way galaxy. In yellow stars, a simple message was written out:

Write the names of those you left behind…
Cast them into the fire to say goodbye…

The party had been originally been conceived as a funeral, after all. A way to let go of the past and face the future, no matter how uncertain. There wouldn’t be any bodies, but there was still a place to say goodbye.
fishermansweater: (You're ON!)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
Finnick hadn't intended to spend the afternoon in the lounge when he walked in. He'd been going to have lunch with Annie, but he'd just sat down when his clothes had, once again, changed. It had been a long time since that had last happened, but he'd remembered it.

Finnick had found his loose cotton shirt suddenly covered with a blue frock coat, and he'd sprung to his feet to smooth it down, examining the cut and the fabric.

In truth, it wasn't far from his normal style. He'd decided he kinda likes it, and the silk sash around his waist, too.

The hat was a little much, but he tilted it to a jaunty angle and lounged back in his seat, grinning.

Annie, though, had let out a dismayed little squeaking sound as she looked down at herself. A tight red and gold bodice, laced at the front, had appeared over her blouse, and her cheeks were flushing deep and hot at the way it accentuated her chest.

Finnick had no objections, but at the look on her face, he'd plucked the hat from his head and dropped it onto hers to make her smile. Annie likes hats.

It was only when they'd gotten their food that they discovered that there was now real rum to be had at the bar, and by the time the sea shanties started playing, Annie was already a little more giggly than usual.

At first Finnick doesn't recognize the words, but the second time the shanties start playing, he knows the tune, and he starts to sing along, to the version of the lyrics he knows: names changed, occasional words, phrases, whole lines different. The rhyme scheme, though, and the rhythm, they're the same: a halyard shanty is a halyard shanty.

Some of the shanties are even the same.

[ OOC note: Open to all for Finnick! Although Annie is floating around, she's not available for tagging because of mun availability, so feel free to assume you've caught him when she's off doing something else. This post was written with Annie-player's input and approval. ]

In the arboretum, OTA

2015-Sep-17, Thursday 04:24 pm
the_blood: (Aiylishia_ticked)
[personal profile] the_blood
She could feel the low ache in her belly. Tomorrow. At the latest. She was already starting to feel ****chy, but she knew that was because she was going to have to spend the next three days locked in her quarters with an over protective male. So.... so today would be hers. Today she would drain off some of her power into the land, and work with her plants. She didn't need the dangerous ones for another week, so she'd do those later. And if he was going to be snarly about the fake sun, fine. They could be irritable together. Yes, she knew that even staying in the shade the "sun" would hurt him, drain him. But she was feeling *****ed off enough to not care. He had plenty of blood. He'd be fine. And it was his choice to follow her. She didn't ask him to serve, never accepted him into service. He could go back to their quarters. He could go anywhere else. She refused to feel guilty. Though she did call in the parasol she had made. She handed it to him silently before stalking to the plants she was allowed to keep and tend, to let this thin imitation of the Land sooth her. So much need here, so much she could do to help.

He took the umbrella, wincing already from the pain of the lights. The artificial sun was enough to help the plants... and enough to sap his strength. Pain built behind his eyes as he hurried to construct the shade. It was tall, and he used craft to pass the end through the ground so that it would remain anchored. The canopy was wide enough that he could sit without a bit of him exposed, and still be able to see the Queen. He couldn't lay out, but he could watch her, and that was what mattered. There was still enough "sun" filtering down to make him uncomfortable, but not enough to add to his pain. He called in a goblet of Yabrah, and warmed it over a tongue of witch-fire. the goblet rotated in the air as the wine heated, as he watched her move among the plants, filling the air with the mixed smells of blood, wine, and greenery.


2015-Sep-13, Sunday 12:05 am
jadedassassin: (006 - Unhappy)
[personal profile] jadedassassin
To say that Mara was on high alert was an understatement. She'd been ripped away from her vacation, which really hadn't been a vacation at all because she kept thinking about her assassination of Dequc and how it had gone too well. Simulations confirmed her doubts, that if it had truly been him she would've met more resistance. She needed to get this information to the Emperor, but that plan had been badly foiled by her suddenly appearing in this place.

At least Mara hadn't just drawn her weapons and started attacking or threatening people. She exercised the better part of valor at times, which clearly worked to her advantage. There was a time and a place for forceful interrogations. This was not one of those times. She was outnumbered, clearly, and the Force was diminished. Which was more than a little disconcerting to her. She didn't like feeling so distant from it, though she could tell it was still there.

For the time being, she was walking around the ship, taking care to not get into any restricted area, though making note of where they were for future reference if she needed it. Anyone who saw her would see a woman who was dressed like she meant business. To those who knew what they were looking at, there was a lightsaber hilt hanging at her left hip. She was a Force user, though call her a Jedi and she would bristle at it. Mara was definitely not a Jedi. She wasn't Sith either, but she had been trained by Palpatine. Mara was an assassin with aspirations to be Palpatine's Sith Apprentice if she could get rid of Darth Vader.

That was the other thing bothering Mara. She had a telepathic link, perhaps even a Force bond, to Palpatine which was decidedly lacking now. No matter how much she tried to reach out to him, she couldn't get anything back. She doubted he was hearing her at all. And all of this was problematic.
student_lighter: (Down for the count)
[personal profile] student_lighter
Sickbay: [for Carson so our little whitelighter doesn't die.]

Chris ran toward the playpen. Gideon had vanished, no doubt staying invisible until he could make a move on Wyatt. He had to get the toddler out of here, or else all of his hard work was going to be for nothing. The trauma of Gideon's attempt to pierce his shield and kill him would turn him evil. And then, Chris's future was doomed. Well, it was already pretty much doomed. The world was a mess and his Wyatt wanted to kill Chris since his little brother didn't want to play 'take over the world' with him.

The Whitelighter-Witch ran, but was only able to take a handful of steps before Gideon materialized, his knife sinking in his abdomen. He watched the elder walk over and pick up his big little brother(time travel was so confusing) and orb away.

Chris fell the the attic floor, calling for his father, the older Whitelighter to help heal him, and go after Wyatt.He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, Chris was still on the floor.

But not the floor of the Halliwell Manor. But the Book was next to him. An old book, quite thick.

He tried to get up. Nope, that wasn't going to happen. Chris tried to orb back to the manor, so his father could get to him. Instead, the Whitelighter-Witch just dematerialized in a flash of blue and white lights, and then materialized again in the same place.

"Anyone have a bandaid?"

[Sickbay: After the funtimez that is emergency surgery, OPEN]

Chris sat up in bed and looked around, for the first time getting a good handle on his surroundings. The Halliwell's Book of Shadow's was beside him. Good. At least no one had tried to walk away with it while he was unconscious.

This was.....not like any hospital he'd ever seen before. And it wasn't the Manor, Magic School or any plane he was familiar with. did he get here? Did Gideon orb him here so he wouldn't be able to help Wyatt? Focusing for a minute, his eyes widened in alarm. Definitely a different plane. He couldn't feel his Mom and his Aunts. Or Leo. He had to hope that Leo would get to Wyatt. Save him. Chris would just have to get back as soon as he could. Well, bright side at least he wouldn't be in the same reality when he was born? Which was any minute now.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I can't be here right now."
redarrowqueen: (10)
[personal profile] redarrowqueen
Thea was officially restless and itching to start shooting again. Sure the small scale training/contest against The Doctor had been fun but she needed something more. So after getting lost and eventually getting directions from a security officer that passed by she found herself in the holodeck. After a fast crash course she chose a Robin Hood inspired program, perfect for friendly contests she figured (plus if she was being honest shooting against Robin Hood just sounded like fun).

But for the moment she was basically firing arrow after arrow, in her soul she was nailing Ra's Al Ghul with every shot.

"Nothing crazy just yet." she whispered,"Can't risk getting hurt again." But at the same time just getting back to semi normal was helping, the itch was not as strong now that she was actually taking matters into her own hands. She also had another theory, she figured just being around people again could only help things at the same time.


2015-Sep-08, Tuesday 10:12 pm
meimeimechanic: (shiny)
[personal profile] meimeimechanic
Kaylee half stumbles out of the door to the quarters she shares with Simon, swearing as she rights herself quick enough as she makes sure what she's carrying isn't damaged. There are things she needs to go trade for, larger than the replicator can produce for her.

Someone is clearly building something, but what that something is might not be so clear. The box of bits and pieces checked Kaylee can continue on her way to the concourse making her way through the corridors of the Enterprise.

End Game

2015-Sep-05, Saturday 01:18 pm
general_chang: Chang first greeting Kirk (Default)
[personal profile] general_chang
 The fight was long and hard. There had been allies, whether Chang wanted them or not, but the result was the same, the violence was finally starting to die down and respect from the Klingons was as tangible as the tang of blood. 

It was then that Chang began to speak, his voice low but carrying, filled with the purpose of the moment. 

"You have come here to die to fight me. You have come to wrest me and deliver me in chains to the Klingon High Council. I have acted dishonourably in the eyes of the Council and in your eyes. You wish to punish me."

He allowed the grumbling to subside. "But I have fought you all in honourable combat. I have taken you on and defeated you. I have used the Sword of Kahless."

The grumbling took a different tone. "I have proved my honour to you. When was the last time the High Council valued your views enough to do so? You know what this sword means. You know my power. My right. I will not take it without your consent. 

"Go back to your ships. Go back and speak of this day and this time and the potential it will bring. And bring the High Council a message: I will find out how much honour they have."

One of the Klingons pulled out their communicator and uttered a phrase. The brown shimmering light surrounded the Klingons still alive and they vanished, leaving the bodies behind. 

Chang stared at the bodies around him, panting quietly. He dropped to his knees suddenly and leant on the Sword of Kahless, struggling to stay conscious.

Klingons Onboard

2015-Aug-29, Saturday 06:21 pm
general_chang: Klingon boarding team (klingon attack)
[personal profile] general_chang
[Klingons Boarding]

The ship shuddered under the attack, until it didn’t. But that didn’t mean that the assault was over: merely had taken a new form. 

Speaking of taking new forms: a whine emerges from… somewhere. Close by, it seems. The source becomes all too clear all too quickly: angry looking Klingons, their ridges making them look even more venomous to those who didn't know of their species before they arrived on board. 

They hold up their weapons at whoever they find in their way. At first it's a blaster, but very quickly, if challenged they'll switch to their blades, one a short, ugly dagger, the other a long graceful two handed weapon that could cut off heads. 

[Shield Repair]

The only way to keep the Klingons out is to make sure the shields are back up. It was a top priority and volunteers were welcome to try. 

[Fighting with Chang]

The Klingons had a destination and that was where Chang was. Chang was waiting for them. He fights hard and with a blade that's much like the two handed weapons the Klingons have, but it's old and tempered. The effect on the other Klingons is marked, however, there's tones of veneration. Not that it calms them in any way, in fact, their attack seems all the more voracious for it.

[ooc: Shield Repair is led by Geordi, so wait until Gabby starts the thread for that before you reply!]

... Is on...

2015-Aug-01, Saturday 01:35 pm
engineermage: (Kinda Grinning)
[personal profile] engineermage
After this conversation...

A small insect-like robot drone is buzzing down the corridors of the Enterprise. It stops at all intersections, spinning around briefly before darting down a corridor. There doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to its movements, but it's soon followed by Kale.

The redhead has a large splotch of green on his face and shirt and is carrying a hand held remote control device, with screen in one hand and a squirt gun in his other hand. He also has a super soaker rifle, another squirt gun with removable magazines and a bandolier with reserve magazines for the handguns.

He appears to be searching for something... or more than likely someone... who looks exactly like him as he's muttering, "Come on... where are you, you crow bitten bastard..." as he walks.

Coming up suddenly behind him is likely a bad idea as he's bound to turn and shoot without thinking... and his guns are carrying some hideously pink dye. This is visible from the few drip stains on the carpet.

Or, occasionally you might come across him barreling down the hallway chasing after someone while screaming curses.

((Companion post to this one Let me know if it's okay for your guys to get shot at!))
asklepian: (Default)
[personal profile] asklepian
Julian was, and he couldn't really deny it, a colossal sort of nerd. He had holonovel thrillers where he played a dashing spy out to save the world, those he usually shared with Miles where they reenacted historical battles. He loved reading spy novels and really most anything he could get his hands on, academic or not.

Something he looked forward to for months leading up to the actual event was Eurovision. It was broadcast to ships and stations and colonies all over the quadrant, anywhere really with a significant Human presence could call up the feed, and every year Julian booked a holosuite and replicated snacks and had a viewing party. Normally, he only invited his friends, however this year he'd put out fliers of a sort on the terminals in Ten Forward and passed the word around verbally, making it clear that everyone was free to attend, no RSVP needed.

Everyone is free to take flags at the door with the country they'll be supporting (Julian won't even judge you if you don't pick the United Kingdom. Okay, maybe he will a little) and free to find a comfortable seat and camp out with food and drink, or converse if that's what strikes your fancy. Holorecordings of prior years performances are playing and will up until the simulcast begins.

[Mingle! This is basically a party post.

Also yes I know Eurovision is in May but who says they can't have changed the date in the Future.]


2015-Jul-25, Saturday 08:51 pm
unkindness: (judging you)
[personal profile] unkindness
After the last few weeks, Lieutenant Paris had come to her in the cargo bay, interrupting her regeneration cycle, and had bodily dragged her out.

"You're avoiding people," he'd told her, and she'd glared at him and before she could even open her mouth to rebut, he'd continued. "I've checked with the computer, you haven't left your alcove in 22 hours. You haven't left the cargo bay in three days. We are getting you something to eat, and then we're restarting your social exercises."

She'd glared, she'd protested, but one of the very few people, human or otherwise, that could ignore her and drag her to where she didn't want to be currently had a solid grip on her hand, and while she could break free, she didn't have the energy.

At the door to Ten Forward, she'd balked again, not wanting to step through the doors. Memories of her last encounter with a person there were unpleasant, and she didn't wish to repeat the experience.

Snapping "I am not a child," at Lieutenant Paris when he pointed out she was pouting and striding through the doors was quite possibly not the best response.

But he'd steered her to a table in the back of the room, gone to the replicator and ordered a bowl of soup, then came back and put it in front of her.

"Eat that, then we'll discuss your homework."

That was how, forty-five minutes later, Seven of Nine began approaching people and introducing herself, looking like she'd swallowed something unpleasant and wiggly.

[Seven will be walking up and introducing herself to whoever, so go ahead and post as if she's already told you her name. And feel free to ask Tom what the heck they're doing.]
mr_laforge: (I'm just a nice guy at heart)
[personal profile] mr_laforge
Okay, well. It's been an interesting couple of months on the Enterprise lately, to put things mildly. Keeping up with the Enterprise is a full-time job even when you don't factor in Q and his menagerie of lost souls, but after meeting with the Chiefs of Staff more than a month ago his job just grew by double. Now he's got to start looking into multi-dimensional travel, and organize a team who will be willing to test theories and formulas in order to find a way to get the displaced on the ship back to their proper places in the timeline.

To be honest, he's not even sure it's possible. But everything is impossible until it isn't, and he made a promise to Captain Picard that he would do his best. The task may not seem so daunting if things hadn't happened with Data the way they had, but one minute they were leaving the meeting together discussing possible places to start, and the next Data had lost all of his memories over the last two years. Thanks, Q.

He'd put a lot of his plans on hold while all of this was going on (not to mention the strange kid virus that had hit the ship around the same time), but he knows the sooner he gets started putting things in order, the sooner all of this will be over with. He looks at the PADD in his hands, and sighs.

First things first, he promised a very good friend that he would help him with something.

Tucking the PADD under one arm, he starts making his way through the halls. It's easy to pull him aside for a quick word at any point during his trek from Deck 36 up to Deck 2. He's unoccupied by anything but his thoughts, right up until he knocks on the door to Room # 3653.

[ooc: all threads will take place before Geordi's thread with [personal profile] humandroid. check out the OOC comm for more info!]
impossibilities: (Thoughtful/Staring)
[personal profile] impossibilities
Grainne had been hard put to think of who or what she should ask about it. She wasn't experienced with the formal sounding, personality-less artificial intelligence the ship boasted. It made her miss Jeffers, surly as he was at times in that particularly sardonic British way; he never gave her nonsense about parameters or needing to define them.

Engineering seemed like the place to go, and it didn't occur to her to ask the computer to send a request. Even Jeffers hadn't been relied on to that degree. Besides, who knew the ship better than those who tended the engines? But she had also been told it was restricted, so she hovered about just outside, fidgeting with her tablet and trying to make up her mind.

As a result, she seemed to waver back and forth in front of the entrance, gathering courage and making a bit of progress, then thinking better of it and going back.

They probably wouldn't let her, anyway, but what harm would it be to ask?

Finally, gathering courage again, she settled on a compromise. "Hello?" Perhaps she could catch someone when they weren't busy. Besides, she was insatiably curious to see the engine.
real_or_notreal: (Default)
[personal profile] real_or_notreal
Entrance Thread
[ For only the first tag-in Taken ]

Peeta is in a pair sleep pants.

They are not even entirely great sleep pants.

They are flecked with still drying paint, as is most of his upper body. If it weren't for the paintbrush in his hand the shade of red dappling him here and there all over he might actually look like he actually was bleeding. Profusely. Deep slashes of brilliant scarlet, and the darker, rusty shades dried in dots and smears on his skin everywhere. The sheet wrinkles from a restless night already fled.

He doesn't have a clue if it's morning now. He had just finished. (He'd had to finish. He's had to finish. He'd had to finish.) Finally been able to breathe and stagger off his pained knee from hours over the canvas. He had been going for a glass of water. But this was not the kitchen. This was not anything like his house.

Leaving him there, torn between the disjointed confusion of whether this was another waking nightmare dream or another trick by the Capital. In only his sleep pants. With a paintbrush. Well. He's had to start with less than that before, right?

Main Threads
[ Everyone after the 1st & Sickbay]

Peeta is no longer in sleep pants.

He's in basic enough pants, shirt and shoes.

Generic. Grey and black. Expected normality for the Capitol.

Which is what this place looks and feels like, even if they keep telling him it's not called that. He doesn't believe them, but belief was never required to begin with. Only abject obedience. He doesn't know what this game is, but at least now he has paint free clothes, shoes which cover his artificial foot, and he's clean, his ash blonde waves curling at the ends from the force of the 'sonic shower.'

Cleaned, clothed, and back in a Quarantine. Familiar as second nature.

He needs to remember how they got him here, and figure out where Katniss is.

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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