Wakes

[tasha_yar]

The nightmares were particularly bad tonight. There was a smell to them. Burnt polymers, dry sand, and something decaying. Someone...or was it something? It was talking in a voice that sounded far away, yet at the same time cloying, choking, drowning. A death rattle voice.

An interesting notion I do not share. It rasped mockingly. You may leave now; if you wish.

But she couldn't leave. There had been a logic to the dream where she couldn't leave. She stepped in front of Data. She couldn't recall what she said. She was talking and moving, focusing this thing's attention on her. Then the dream shifted and she was flying and when she landed there was nothing.

She took a deep breath in and tried opening her eyes. Her chest hurt. Everything hurt. She redoubled her efforts, took the next breath in and opened her eyes only to discover she had a sizable headache. There was an unhappy gasp as she pulled herself up to a seating position and marveled at the fact she hadn't felt this bad since the day after the Tchaikovsky problem. Whatever this was, she'd check in with Dr. Crusher if she felt any worse.

"Computer, give me the time."

"The time is 0713 hours and 17 seconds."

Tasha spat out something short, scandalous, and to the point that covered her irritation with being nearly late. No time for a shower. Good thing she had fallen asleep in uniform again. She made herself leave the bed, throws on her boots, runs her fingers through her honey blonde hair, and starts out the door.

In her somewhat sleep-and-pain fogged state, she didn't notice some things she should have, like the differences in the few uniformed officers passing her in this early hour. It was only when she entered the lift and ordered it to the bridge that she encountered her first problem.

"Bridge."

The turbolift didn't budge. She repeated herself.

"Bridge!"

Still nothing.

She sighed. There must be some kind of maintenance going on. Damn annoying.

She touched her badge. "Yar to bridge."

Silence. The communicator was unresponsive.

She let out a huff and made a note to go to the gym this evening to take all of this out on the punching bags. Think, Tasha!

Most of the primary bridge crew would not be on at this hour. Will could be busy. Data could be up there, or he could be tinkering with the lifts. Either way, she wasn't much interested in presenting herself to his cheerful demeanor while she was like this. Same thing with Geordi. She could get Worf, but he would have just gotten off shift and he needed to understand what "time off" meant - even if she had a poor grasp of it herself. That left:

"Yar to Captian Picard."

[OOC note: Picard gets to be tortured first and without back-up. The next post is going to be open. Thank you.]

[Ten Forward:] Guinan at the bar | OTA

[she_listens]

There are more people on the Enterprise tonight.

How and when Q chooses to bring them aboard still remains something of a mystery. Sometimes there is only one new face out in the crowd, and sometimes there are dozens. Guinan takes note of them all, from behind the bar, waiting tables, offering words of comfort and explanation.

And, most importantly, she listens.

They all have their own stories, their own fears, discomforts, and needs. In a strange new place, sometimes the best form of solace is a friendly listening ear and something warm to drink.


[ooc: feel free to walk up to Guinan at the bar or handwave that she passes by your table! For new folks, Guinan is the head bartender here, and happy to answer questions if you've got 'em. ^__^]

[On Risa:] Choose your own planetside adventure? OTA!

[stark_spangled]

He'd almost missed all the fuss. Steve's been back to his own time and place -- and jiminy cricket, is it still strange to think of D.C. as home -- found Clint and Natasha safe, and returned to the ship with Natasha in tow. The holidays had been... strange. But not as strange as what happened when he and Natasha got back.

It's put him in a mood, sometimes pensive, sometimes angry. He's been focusing his energy on making sure Bucky and Nat are all right, looking in on Kate, Peggy, Sinthia and Sam, but he's tense. He needs to get off the ship for a while.

The trip down to Risa is painless, and the resort he's dumped off at -- well, it's nothing to turn his nose up at, that's for sure. It looks like Hawaii. At least, it looks like what he imagines Hawaii to look like. They call it a "Pleasure Planet," and the natives around here are real friendly, to put it mildly. So there's enough to keep Steve distracted, at least for a day.

The fact that he chooses to hide himself in one of the marketplaces should really tell you something.


[ooc: if by "something" we mean "Steve doesn't know how to have fun." :| He's completely approachable, so I welcome any and all takers to get Steve to have a little fun and adventure on Risa! If you want to plot something, I'm over on plurk gabbynormal or reachable by DMs always! Otherwise, come bug the supersoldier. He has a birthday present to buy. >:3]

And suddenly a wild Magneto appears, falling all over himself in the halls.

[magnetic_magpie]

He had been perched somewhat precariously on a the ledge of broken down building, grit and broken concrete digging into his knees, holding tightly to the rail over his head, and reaching into the crevice to retrieve some supplies.

And then he wasn't - it was almost like falling, almost like teleporting, and yet unlike either. More disorienting. There was something solid under his feet, but everything was slipping sideways and it took him a moment to realize he was in fact falling, rolling onto himself to cushion the fall and leaving himself against a solid, comforting, wall.

The pounding in his head was a warning, his hand coming up to rub at his nose before covering his face, legs drawn up. The migraine wasn't a concern - that was normal. What was a concern was not having any idea at all where he was.

That, actually, was downright alarming.

A mad wizard cometh, OTA

[themerlin]

Merlin did do his best to, most days, eschew the ways of others. He did try, in all accounts, to find new ways and new dreams of what would be, what could be, and what might be, and not dilly dally in the lost and forgotten. But his memories of such were ever powerful, and did prod his mind. For, in the wee hours of the night, when naught else filled the world with sound, so did those memories come a-crawling, a hunting, and a haunting.

Many regrets had Merlin, and Merlin had many a thought on old woes, even as he sought new dreams. Thus it was, many a night, he would be up to all hours, and in many a shaded place, beginning many a new adventure with not a thought for the past, the present, nor for the future, merely for something to do. And thus again, it was, yes, that when the shimmering light did come and sweep over him, Merlin welcomed it, for mayhap, wheresoever it swept him, there would be fewer ghosts for his soul.

But when the light faded and Merlin stood atop a table in a room of people, where drinks were drunk and food was eaten, so did he despair. Here among these shades of new futures, ghosts yet walked. And yet, hope still glimmered, and the future was bright, and mayhap in the moment of the perambulations he could find herein, he would find something new to dream.

With a hop, he left the tabletop, dropped to the floor, and walked into the crowd, a glint to his eyes and humming an old song.

(ooc: Triggering: in the Merlin-Ginny thread, there are mentions of rape.)

Ginny Weasley/ Harry Potter

[missginnytonic]

Ginny walks in to the common area. Looking around so he bites her lip stilll not totally sure about the workings and going ons about this place but she wants to get better accustomed to it.  So she wonders about looking a tad lost. 

(no subject)

[abyssum_invocat]

It's been a long time since Sinthia's been outside her room.

To be fair, it takes a while to really sink in for an eight-year-old that they're probably never going home, and she doesn't really haveto go out. She can hear plenty without wanting to on a good day, and there haven't been a whole lot of good days for her lately. But there's also only so long she can stay cooped up, which is why she's sitting in Ten Forward (it counts as getting out, even if it's still on the ship) with her little tellurion: there's an arrow carved into the wood support for the crank that dictates it should be turned towards the operator.

Sinthia is turning it backwards, away from her, absently as if she's not really watching the planet spin around the central wooden star even though she's been staring at it for a good few minutes. There's also a tiny trickle of blood coming out of one ear and her nose. She doesn't appear to have noticed it yet.

She's busy listening.


[ ooc: So for everyone who hasn't interacted with Sinthia, there's a warnings and permissions post here, if anyone is so inclined to take a gander. She probably will be listening actively to anyone who gets close enough, so please include something for me to go on? ]