ten_fwd | Entries tagged with leonard 'bones' mccoy

Leonard wakes up groggy, like he's slept restlessly for far too long. Flashes of his dream fell into his mind as he rolls to his side - just him, space, and a fear tucked under his skin which lingered even after he heard the hum of the Enterprise engines. A dream. That's all it was.

Then his face brushes against the pillow. His eyes shoot open. The second bed doesn't throw him off. Not really. What does throw him off is the fact that his facial hair his sweeping against the fabric of the pillow cover. He didn't have a beard or mustache when he went to sleep. Where the hell did this come from?

Leonard leaps from the bed and rushes to the bathroom to look. Sure enough, facial hair. Not a little bit either. It looks like he hasn't shaved for weeks. How the hell did he...?

He slept much longer than he thought. Or he left the ship. He needs to know.

Leonard rushes from the room and into the hall to find answers from someone, anyone, without bothering to shower, shave, or look presentable in anyway.

[ ooc: Because I jumped the gun, I deleted the last return post and replaced it with this one. This does take place after the Halloween event. ]

immafrog

Adam hurt. A lot.

He didn't really want to wake up because of how sore he felt. And tired. Exhausted, even. His body was still shaking a little from the after shocks from being severed from his morpher for those brief moments, and the coin itself was still healing.

What happened?

Hadn't they just been... fighting something? And the monster tried to attack-

"Billy?!" He shot up, eyes wide open and frantically looking for his friend and ignoring the pain in his chest. Was Billy okay?

[OOC: Mostly for Billy but also to doctor folk and those who may have CR with him!]

oldsouth

TEN FORWARD
(Closed)

He doesn't remember when he got the chance to use his legs again. Frankly, it isn't much of a luxury when McCoy can barely stand on those swollen feet. Each step is numb, like he's been wandering in some godforsaken tundra with snow up to his knees. But it's not. The air is cool, even if his body is boiling from fever. There is no bite or fall of snow, just the feeling.

Five paces in and the doctor crumbles like someone cut his damn strings and let him fall to the floor in pieces. Ah well, it sure's better than walking. The vertigo is less noticeable this low to the ground, that's good. Progress is good. Be nice if he could remember just where in the hell this progress brought him to. His last memories are of a cavernous room, strung up by his hands and bloodied by two sadistic bastards with too much time on their hands--Correction, not enough time. And with that recollection, McCoy finally tries to see the world he's fallen to.

The lights are dim without being an obstacle, but the rest makes no sense. There's people or the sounds of them: Talking, low conversation that's occasionally cut by harsh laughter. His eyes are too swollen to make much sense of anything. But it reminds him of a dining hall, and McCoy has to wonder if this is Heaven. Or Hell. Then again it hurts too much to be anything else but reality. He's not falling into the sweet by and by that easily, that is just not his luck. There's a clatter to his right as if someone jumped from their seat, legs squealing against the ground. Conversation turns quiet, rushed, and somehow closer even as he begins to drool crimson on the clean floors.

SICKBAY
(Open to all)

The readings from his own monitor are what wake him. He can't help but squint in the bright clinical light as his blue eyes adjust. Smells of sterility are familiar, and McCoy doesn't need more than two brain cells to rub together that he's in Sickbay. That certainly puts his mind at ease even if there are a hundred questions whirling around in his brain.

Not to be too cynical, but he hadn't imagined getting out of their time on Minara II alive after the way those Vians worked him over. He doesn't regret his decision--Obviously, since everything seems to have worked out--but it certainly had been a rather character building experience to say the least. And he would do it again for his friends, for Jim and that pointy-eared devil he had the nerve to stuff into that category. Now the question is where are they?

There's no one around him, nurse or otherwise. His private room is, strangely, unfamiliar. Even the biobed is outfitted differently, which puts him back on high alert. Maybe they couldn't make it back to the Enterprise. Maybe his injuries were so grievous he had to be transferred--Though that seemed real unlikely. No, nothing about this makes sense, and he's starting to get frustrated with no answers. He's a doctor for Chrissake! He should be the one holding the cards here.

star_born

He should have been dead. He had thought that several times in his life, actually. But inside that chamber, poisoned with radiation, he really should have been dead. In fact, he knew he had died. He had felt it, the moment where he couldn’t hold his hand up to the glass anymore, the moment that his eyes lost vision, that singular moment where he was alone and scared. And then it was all gone. Blackness.

But then there were voices. Pike. His mother. His father. They were echoes, but loud enough to wake him.

And then he was awake. And there was light and Bones in white and Spock looking humble.

That had been almost a year ago. Now he was alive and well, hell, he was better than ever. At least physically. And maybe he had grown some mentally too. And maybe there were a few more emotional bruises too. But he was alive. And so many were not.

But the reminder only made him more restless. He missed his ship. He missed his stars. And they were his stars. It reminded him of a quote from The Grapes of Wrath, “...We were born on it, and we got killed on it, died on it. Even if it's no good, it's still ours. That's what makes it ours-being born on it, working it, dying on it.” It couldn’t have been truer for James Tiberius Kirk.

But they were grounded while repairs were still being made, while it was being prepped from the promise of a five-year mission that still had him giddy. And as he stared up at the skyline from his apartment window, he really wished he was back home.

...And then he was.

A literal blink of the eye and his scenery had suddenly changed. No longer was he leaning against the glass of his apartment window, but the thick glass of the Enterprise. His vision of buildings and vehicles and fading sun were gone, replaced with the pitch blackness of space and the scattered lights of stars.

It was so sudden that he was reeling backwards, eyes a little wide with surprise and disbelief. Damn, if only all of his wishes were granted so instantaneously.

“What the hell?” Was this real? He was still in his blue jeans, shirt, and leather jacket he had been in. He hadn’t had anything to drink, so this wasn’t one wicked hallucination. But the more he looked around, the more wrong he realized this was. The uniforms on crew members were different, faces unfamiliar. And was he in a bar? When the hell did his ship get a bar?

Maybe he really did die. That made as much sense as anything else at the moment.

shut_up_dammit

Doctor's Log - Star Date... oh to hell with it, Leonard doesn't know. He doesn't care. He also doesn't care that he's plastered off his ass and stumbling far too much. There's only one thing he cares about - talking to Captain Picard.

He's learned all sorts of wonderful things since his arrival and he's going to tell the captain all about it. Okay, they only met once before, but he could talk to Jim just fine thank you very much so Picard could listen too. To hell with permission. This is going down before he gets sober.

He buzzes into the captain's quarters.

"Captain, it's Leonard McCoy."

He, surprisingly, sounds sober. Won't Picard be in for a surprise.

[ ooc: This is plot locked to Picard only. Sorry guys. ]

captgreatcoat

[Torchwood Three, Cardiff, during episode 1.07, Greeks Bearing Gifts.]

Tosh is going to have to learn to believe in humanity herself. Nobody can instill that faith. However hard she's going to find it to learn, at least it won't be as hard -- or as costly -- as Jack's own lesson.

He shoves his hands into his coat pockets as he strides across Roald Dahl Plass, the breeze bringing the smell of the ocean in off the bay, ruffling in his hair and at the hem of his vintage RAF greatcoat.

Until suddenly, it isn't.

Jack's footsteps pause in mid-stride and he spins, hand going automatically to his holster to draw the Webley. The dim, warm light of the plaza at night is gone, just like the salt air and that playful little breeze. The sound of running water from the tower, the shape of the Millennium Centre with its hybrid verse spelled out in windows across its front.

Instead, he's in a bar.

A bar.

"What the hell?"

writes_with_digital_ink

Much like the other entrances, this one isn't accompanied by any flash, sparkle, or sound. One moment the floor in the main sickbay is clear, the next a young Orion woman in vintage Science blues is curled up in a defensive huddle, her arms flung up to try and protect her face. She smells of smoke and fried circuits, and her green skin is covered in small burns and cuts oozing sticky, sap-coloured blood.

Cautiously, Acting Ensign Gaila betIlley of the USS Antares lowers her burned hands and blinks at her surroundings. Comprehension doesn't quite follow.

[ooc: plot-locked - she'll have an open EP later :D]

notacrimelord

So, if you thought Q was done sending strangers to the ship, well... you were wrong. Where there was an empty space a bit ago, there is a very large creature that defies easy description.

...a giant slug with purple skin, thick arms, a cavernous mouth and reptilian eyes? One of those covered by some kind of visor?

Well, maybe no so defying, then.

The creature looks around in surprise and mild distress; perhaps it would appreciate some clarification on what in the name of all stars is happening...

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?

ten_fwd_npcs

Lieutenant Worf has gathered all of the new "guests" together in Ten Forward to instruct them on correct behavior and protocols now that they have been released from quarantine. He looks as happy and approachable as you might expect, which is to say he doesn't. It is his duty, and the captain's instructions, and so he will handle this riffraff the honorable way.

"The computer will instruct you on where all cleared-for-access decks are. You only have to ask where the area you are trying to get to is located, and it will give you clear directions. Do not visit any restricted areas. The bridge, engine rooms, transporter rooms, and all command centers are off-limits."

This is chased by a stern look to all the gathered guests.

"With that in mind, there are a few rules you must obey before I give you your new assignments. One, do not discharge any weapon while on the Enterprise. Two, do not assault any other passenger aboard in any way; that includes injury, death, or violating their personal rights. Three, do not tamper with the operational procedures of the ship. Four, do not steal items or technology from the ship. Five, do not interrupt any official areas of the ship without proper authorization, and do not invade the privacy of other guest or crew quarters.

"Copies of the Prime Directive will be made available to all of you, and placed in each room. As you are not Starfleet officers, you are not obligated to abide by this rule; however, it is important you understand why we do."

He takes a deep breath. Unless they show themselves to be undisciplined or unruly, it is the most he can do.

"Now, the rooms," he rumbles, reading aloud the list of quarters, their location, and the guests who will be sharing them.

Room # 0711 - Pyrrha and Trance Gemini
Room # 0712 - Caspian and Katherine Barlow
Room # 0713 - John Crichton and Eleanor Lamb
Room # 0714 - Butch Cassidy and Jack Twist
Room # 0715 - TWO SECURITY PERSONNEL
Room # 0716 - Shotaro and Amelia Pond
Room # 0717 - Loki and Sigyn
Room # 0718 - Zinda Blake and Natasha Romanoff
Room # 0719 - Stephanie Grace Rogers and Mireille
Room # 0720 - TWO SECURITY PERSONNEL
Room # 0721 - Lady Marian and Darcy Lewis
Room # 0722 - Ian Chesterton and Billy Cranston
Room # 0723 - Andros and Steve Rogers
Room # 0724 - Aeryn Sun and Booker DeWitt
Room # 0725 - TWO SECURITY PERSONNEL
Room # 0726 - Philip and Clint Barton
Room # 0727 - Sinthia Schmidt
Room # 0728 - Pavel Andreievich Chekov and Kate Newton
Room # 0729 - Leonard Horatio McCoy and Adam Park
Room # 0730 - TWO SECURITY PERSONNEL

"I will remain here to answer questions," Worf concludes. "And my team will be standing by to escort you where you need to be."

The list is also displayed on a PADD, where people can refer to it if they need to.

[ooc: This post is open for everyone to tag in and meet their new roommates and neighbors, "party post" style! Everyone should participate if and when they can, so they can get acquainted with who they will be rooming with for at least the next several months. Rooms are aligned the way they would be in a typical hotel: odd numbers on the left, even numbers on the right (so 0711 and 0713 will be next door neighbors, while 0712 is directly across the hall). There is an OOC post in the OOC comm where players can connect with questions and where we'll post more details about the rooms themselves, so check in over there! If you need to ask security questions, or need them to swing by another thread, just put "Security officer, please!" in the subject line of your tag, and the mods will send someone to you ASAP.]

trial_never_ends

There are two generally human-male-shaped lifeforms aboard the Enterprise who can be found in the uniform of a Starfleet captain: one's usual expression is grumpy, and the other's is quite pleased with himself.

This is that one, come to Ten Forward to survey his handiwork.

Well, it's beautiful, isn't it? All this potential gathered here, on the verge of something big. Savor this moment--it won't make the history books; the best times never do. But he'll remember, and that's all that matters.

He'd been bored and now he's not. That sums it up. He's over by a window, watching the room, if you'd like to come express your gratitude for this little vacation.

[this post is going immediately slow because Ridiculously Long Workweek, but tag in and I will get back to you once my brain has returned! Feel free to show Q just how displeased you are with the situation; attacks won't hurt him, and he's feeling too generous to retaliate with force]

ten_fwd_npcs

[ Captain's Log: a Meeting with the Senior Staff. Wherein Picard discusses what to do with their new, er. "Guests." ]

As you enter sickbay tonight, escorted there by Lieutenant Worf and his security detail, you may notice it isn't all that unusual. There are no terrifying devices or humming machines you could see in a sci-fi thriller. The biobeds along the walls are equipped with biofunction monitors, but look fairly standard. Instead of silver trays filled with metal tools and sawblades, there are an array of small devices that look as harmless as cell phones. As for Chief Medical Officer Crusher herself, she's well-groomed and kindly, wearing her teal uniform and a blue coat. No masks, no rubber gloves. The most dangerous thing about her is that maternal look in her eyes; the one that scolds you for not doing your homework, or leaving your dirty dishes in your room.

The crew makes no promises for Dr. McCoy, on the other hand. He isn't one of ours. You should probably watch your neck.

"All right, don't be shy," Dr. Crusher calls out as you enter. "Come in and sit down. It's just a scan and maybe a hypospray, nothing to worry about."

Probably.

[ooc: This is an open log for everybody. Tagging isn't mandatory, but going to sickbay is. So if you'd prefer to skip threading with one of our doctors, you can handwave that your character got a clean bill of health and a shot and were sent on their merry way. For those who are tagging, we have Bones McCoy and Beverly Crusher (NPC) on deck, so if you'd prefer one over the other just specify it in your tag. If you would like more details about sickbay, here's the wiki page. If you haven't made your OP yet, you can assume the doctors will want to see your character shortly after they arrive.]

i_candozat

Pavel had literally just sat down in his chair on the bridge, in the middle of turning to his console when he's been winked out of that ship, and onto...well, this one, apparently.

Unfortunately, in this particular case going from sitting on a chair to having no chair doesn't translate well; hence why Chekov, still in his Starfleet golds, is still getting off the floor.

just_a_chemical

[previously: Morning in Rapture. Contents include little girls brainwashed to drain fluids from corpses, as well as some who aren't quite dead yet; also dysfunctional family relationships, also injectables.]

Here come two more life forms, Enterprise. One you can't see: it's internal. Girls have their secrets. Don't you pay it any mind.

The one you can see is a lanky teenager, almost six feet tall, barefoot, wearing what looks like a 1940s nightgown (her little white sacrificial-victim dress), and carrying a book and a foil-wrapped pep bar.

This obviously wasn't where she expected to end up. She'd been headed into her room, where the quarantine door would lock behind her and she'd lie there pretending to read until the sickness subsided. Process all these new memories in peace, but this--

Either it's a very bad reaction to her latest treatment, or she's suffering a relapse in her mental conditioning, or... or she's suddenly in another place.

She's not sure which option is worse.

bet_on_the_river

This ain't the Bowery, that's for sure.

One minute, Booker was on his way up the steps of a tenement to go visit one of his bosses' constituents, a widowed mother who's been sick and unable to work--he's got money, for rent and food and medicine. She has three young sons, and they'll remember this when they're old enough to vote.

Well, but the next minute he's gone, he's here, wherever here is. The ambient sounds and scents he's familiar with have been replaced by--by something sterile. Something that feels like science.

Which could mean that preacher's here, that self-proclaimed prophet. If he gets his hands on him, why--

The preacher, or the girl. She could be here too. If she even remembers--

He takes a few steps back, until he's up against a solid wall. Deep breath, DeWitt. This don't look like the kind of place you want to start trouble.

scarred_grin

[previously: In the void.]

So really, being dropped aboard the Enterprise is less of a big deal today than being corporeal again. And what corpora they are: for him, mouth-scars, bed-hair and stubble, an impressive tan for a redhead, jeans, boots, a faded Killer Queen t-shirt and a surfer-style necklace that is actually made of baby teeth; for her, a little younger-looking maybe, with hair somewhere between light brown and dark blond, proper Norse clothing that involves a long green dress, a crown of wildflowers and a necklace that shines with the fire of creation.

They're holding hands, and not paying much attention to their new surroundings--a secondary concern, really. There are more important things to see to first: circling each other, as best they can without letting go, to get a good look at these new shapes.

Well, they're basically the same as they were the last time they had bodies. They'll do.

"Eyeliner," she says quietly.

"Smudged already?" he asks.

"Can't take you anywhere."

"You really can't."

Only with that curiosity satisfied do they look around. This is where they are now. It's a place. They'll get used to it. How different can places be?

[tag either or both!]

morphitudinous

The young man tucked away in the corner of the bar wasn't there because he was shy. Or afraid. Both of those things were true, but the main reason he settled away from the crowd was to attempt to put his brain to work. He'd heard fractions of the story of their new location from various people, and it was now his task to try to solve this problem of space-time displacement.

Billy's thoughts were accompanied by hand gestures, as if he were writing upon an invisible board. He really would prefer to write upon an actual board, but he hadn't been carrying his backpack at the time of the abduction and it seemed that this wasn't a pen and paper society. Occasionally, those indecipherable gestures shifted into a familiar one: palming his forehead in frustration.

"Even those of us from the same world are from different points in time. It could be multiple universes, or multiple points in time from the same universe. There's no telling how our universe is connected to this one, and the transportation technology to bring us backward in time or across dimensions would be far greater than anything I know..."

His shoulders slumped. "Something tells me getting out of this jam is going to be exceptionally difficult."

tea_earlgrey_hot

[ Previously, on the bridge... ]

It is abundantly clear why Guinan called him to Ten Forward the instant the doors slide open. The room is crawling with people who, last this captain checked, were not part of the ship's complement. None of them are acting violently, but there are some raised voices, and more than a few angry and confused faces.

"What is all this?" he says, voice raised, though he doesn't expect an answer. The security officers accompanying him move into the room immediately, while Lieutenant Worf stops at his side.

"Your orders, sir?" Worf asks, his deep voice strained.

"Do not use force unless absolutely necessary," Picard replies. "These people look confused. I do not believe they are meant to harm us, as some of Q's previous manifestations. Until we know what is going on, assess where the devil they came from, and escort any to the brig if they do not cooperate."

The Lieutenant nods, and joins his underlings among the crowd. Meanwhile, Guinan has approached Captain Picard.

"They just appeared out of nowhere. There was a small flash of light, and one by one..." she says, gesturing to the room. Her brow furrows. "Is it—?"

"Q? Yes," Picard answers. "Has anyone tried to cause any trouble so far?"

She shakes her head, and Picard nods. It is a small blessing, though he's no closer to understanding what Q's game is than he had been when he left the bridge. With all these people, he can't help but feel as though he is looking for a needle in a haystack. Still, there must be a reason for them to be here, and confound it all, he will unravel this puzzle and set his ship back to rights.

"Damn it, Q," he mutters, stepping into the room.

[ooc: Here, have a starship captain! Picard may not be the most helpful right now, as he is also trying to work out what is happening, but he can answer questions for any of the newcomers to the best of his abilities. If you'd like Worf or one of the other security officers, specify whom when you tag in and I'll see what I can do!]

shut_up_dammit

By no means was this Leonard McCoy's day.

First the crew of the Enterprise was starting a five year mission in space with God only knew what facing them and now he was ripped away from the bridge, and not by choice. He was not in the mood for games.

But looking around the room told him that this wasn't a normal game. There was something wrong. There were people here, people he didn't know. Although their five year mission had barely started, he was given the registrar of everyone on board, pictures included. So many unfamiliar places meant, either, the registrar information was incomplete or, more likely, he was taken from the ship. If it was the latter, Jim would be looking for him. Five year mission delayed or not, Leonard would be aboard that ship.

Until then, he'd have to find a way back himself. He started peering around to the people in the room, trying to figure out the least number of people he could talk to in order to figure out what happened.

And he doesn't look happy about any of this at all.

Ten Forward Social Lounge

3rd Doctor's Log - Sweet Dreams Aren't Made Of This

The Frog Prince Awakens - Openish?

Bottoms Up

First Arrival

2nd Doctor's Log || Drunk and Disorderly (pre-sickbay round two)

First entrance

Sickbay, then Ten Forward

First Entrance

(no subject)

[Ten Forward] Release from Quarantine and Rooming Assignments

it's good to be omnipotent

[Sickbay]: Round One scans and vaccines

(no subject)

First Entrance

First entrance

First entrance

the first step

An Officer and a Gentleman ... of Sorts

1st Doctor Log || The Second Enterprise

Ten Forward

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March 2016

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