ten_fwd | Entries tagged with lorna dane (polaris)

Erik Lehnsherr's arrival in this new place was somewhat less...undignified than his arrival at the Warehouse had been. No substance to make them docile, no prodding. So far, anyway. He was wearing clothing that he'd liberated in Univille. Proof, to him, that he'd come directly from there.

It was disorienting, though. One moment at the B&B, the next moment here. A public space of some sort. And nobody seemed to think it was too strange for a man to suddenly just...appear.

But Mystique. He frowned and turned, glancing around quickly to see if she'd been transported with him. His eyes caught the expansive windows. Oh. Another space ship. Great. She'd been taken away once on a space ship. And returned on one. Perhaps the pattern would, at least, hold. And if she didn't hate him when she arrived this time, that'd be even better.

If she arrived.

In the meantime, his first order of business was to find out where he was and what was going on here. A quick scan of the faces in the room - it looked like some sort of bar - revealed nobody familiar. He headed into the hallway.

[ooc: Feel free to catch Erik in the halls or doubling back to Ten Forward when he discovers some areas are off-limits.]

magnetic_magpie

Emotions have a way of hitting you strangely - or at least they did for Magneto. Almost all of those he'd forged close relationships with had gone, leaving him with not even a literal handful. Still, that didn't mean he gave up on those gone - sometimes people popped back, even if they didn't remember being here.

He had been lingering at what had been Julian Bashir's office. He missed his friend. And now he was just wandering, not really hoping but looking around, to see if any he'd lost had returned. And leaving him in position of not knowing if he was mourning them or not - it wasn't as if they had died, but if they didn't come back, they were certainly forever parted.

magneticxman

After a vivid dream Lorna woke up and almost immediately started to cry. It was easier to make her cry these days. She wanted to blame it on the baby, and maybe that was part of it, but the real truth was that she was just finally letting herself feel her emotions.

What made it more awkward was that Booker had slept over the previous night and she was curled up against him while she cried about the guy she'd rather be in bed with.

just_dewitt

[Private Log: Upon discovering his daughter gone, but his granddaughter still around, Booker DeWitt finds time to visit a friend, and talk to her about it.]

magneticxman

Typically Lorna is not a stealthy person. She has neon green hair and a penchant for wearing the same color in her clothing. None of that has changed, but today she's sneaking around a little bit, constantly on watch for people coming down the hallway. It's a residential hallway, but not the one where Lorna lives. Instead she's outside Magneto's door, her arms loaded with foil wrapped discs of latex in various lurid colors, ribbed and non ribbed styles, and glow in the dark treatments. She's even included some flavored prophylatics, because she's nothing if not a thoughtful, loving daughter.

Getting into his room should be a piece of cake. With a version of Rogue running around Lorna assumes it's only a matter of time before her father will need some kind of birth control. Plus it might make him annoyed in the meantime, so it's a double win.

magneticxman

Surfing has always been one of Lorna's favorite hobbies. She'd looked forward to it from the moment the next stop had been announced. As soon as transport to the ground was available Lorna was on it, eyes wide as she took in the beautiful beaches and the brilliant ocean.

After a few days of surfing Lorna is ready to take it a little easier. She has an honest to goodness magazine on the blanket next to her, but she's not even looking in its direction. Instead she's in her smallest bikini, with the straps tucked under her arms instead of over her shoulders. Sunbathing, after so long on a ship, feels glorious. She's not asleep but her eyes are closed as she basks in the UV rays.

magneticxman

Lorna was tired of sulking in her room. Sure every man she'd laid eyes on in a remotely sexual manner was gone. Sure she was almost entirely alone without people she knew. Sure she was tired of space and the warp core being in her senses all the time. None of that meant that she had to become a shut in.

So she dressed up nice, put on some makeup, and went to go have a fake drink at the bar. She felt all kinds of classy in her heels and tight skirt. After ordering a glass of white wine she took a seat on a stool and looked around curiously. There were a few new faces and she wondered how long they would be staying and if they liked it here.

magnetic_magpie

Figuring out how to follow the Jewish calendar had taken more thought than he would admit - and he finally settled on following whatever the calendar was on Earth. It held a familiar rhythm and he needed that.

He settled on cooking more transnational foods - as well as things that weren't, mostly by virtue of he liked them or someone who was eating that night enjoyed them or requested them. However, on a shelf is a delicate menorah, crafted of tubes of platinum so thin it's almost translucent - but shockingly strong. Walking around are two kittens, Ariel and Zohar, that he picked up after they were so bold as to steal his sandwich.

Technically he'll feed anyone who stops in, and he'll explain the holiday to anyone who asks - but he really means it for his few friends and family.

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.

magneticxman

Lorna appreciated the events of the day. She looked fabulous in a corset and leather boots, there was rum and drunk people everywhere, and she even had a parrot to teach swear words to. She decided it was time to break the silence between her and her father. Talking to Alex had really thrown her for a loop, though her nights with Sam were almost enough to take her mind of him.

She picked up a pair of bottles of rum after putting her parrot on her shoulder. It was easy enough to find him. As she approached him here patriot finally squawked out the word, "Damn!"

immutablysam

Sam actually lived during parts of the golden age of piracy. These people's teeth are far too well tended, they smell better, the rum is a lot less... dirty, and who in all the hells ever talked like /that?/

But ok. So the pirate outfit is actually better than the stupid indian ones. And there's rum. Rum makes so many things better. Sam is wandering down the halls here and there, quite steadily, despite the bottle of rum being two-thirds gone, with three parrots having adopted 'him', and a couple more perching on the ornithopter that rolls behind Sam.

hesnohero

(One Week ago: Alex Arrived to confusion and weirdness., yesterday, he had more weirdness, and was still lost.(OOC Note: The link to the test drive is for the Lorna-Alex thread.)

Today, Alex is wandering, a PADD of stuff about this time in one hand, a giant sealed mug of coffee in the other, and humming softly to himself. He's faintly wet, fresh from the shower after working out in the gymnasium, and he mostly was just trying to see more of the ship. He wasn't necessarily trying to get into areas he was not supposed to be in, but he also wasn't necessarily trying to avoid those areas, either.

Alex wasn't so much looking for trouble as staring it in the eye and calling its mother bad names.

It was a bad habit he had.

seekingcrocodile

It's hard for him not to have anything to do around here, as unused to being idle as he is. He's been all the places in the ship that guests are allowed to go, and he's even been able to sneak into a few where guests aren't allowed to go (luckily without getting caught). He's familiar enough with the holodeck now, and has his ship programmed in nicely. He can't spend all of his time in there though, and as close to the real thing as it is, he still knows in the back of his mind that it's not real.

The one thing that bothers him more than not having anything to do is not knowing where he is. 'On board the Enterprise, somewhere in space' is not a good enough answer for him. The way he usually can get his bearings is with a sextant and a map and compass and, at night, the stars. He only has one of those things, and he knows that these stars and constellations are ones he doesn't know, but he's curious anyway, and if he can only manage to make a star chart, at least he'd have something to do.

He miraculously finds a limited supply of paper and pens at one of the stalls in the concourse, and at another one, which prides itself on supplying what it calls 'ancient Earth artifacts,' he finds a sextant and compass which will work well enough for his purposes. Better than not having either, at least.

So with these things in hand, he finds himself a spot in the arboretum, which provides the best view of the sky outside, and starts meticulously recording the patterns of the stars.

magneticxman

Lorna isn't drinking, for once. It's late at 'night' and she ought to be trying to sleep, but instead she's sitting in Ten Forward, concentrating hard on a project. A book about wire wrapping is sitting open on in front of her (a real book, rather than one on a PADD), and she's manipulating a silver wire with a pair of plyers. So far she's not very far into it, but you'd never guess that she's a beginner by looking at her work.

Mostly because she's cheating. It's a good exercise in fine motor control and the plyers are just there to hide the fact that she's using her powers.

So far she has half of a flower stem done, with an assortment of small stones waiting to be put in their settings. That part will be tricky, but she's smiling and appears to be relaxed. With no evil to fight or racists to avoid she's been a little bored. A hobby is just what she needs to get out of her slump. Or so she hopes. So far it's amusing enough.

After a few moments she sets the stem down and stretches her back, looking around for a friendly face. Then she remembers that there aren't many friendly faces here and she sighs, resting her chin in her hand. It's probably time to get over losing Remy and find a new friend, but she doesn't know how to start looking for one.

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.

Current Location: Deck 8: Main Counseling Room 3402

partofaplan

The best part of the ship? The holodecks.

Currently, there is a program running on Holodeck 2, with a big, flashing red warning that the gravity has been turned off. The program's name is "The Aries Asteroid Belt."

Those brave enough to enter, or foolish enough to not heed the warning about the lack of gravity, will find themselves floating in space, at a speed relative to what they entered, floating in space, and surrounded by asteroids... where one will, promptly, explode.

Landing on one of the larger pieces is a man in a red leather coat, mask over his face, and guns in his hand. Seems he's using it for target practice... So, better watch yourself.

magneticxman

Lorna was getting drunk. She'd figured out that asking politely for real alcohol was all she had to do to get it and she was taking advantage of that fact. After seeing her life in another universe, meeting a sane version of her father, and seeing him as a kid she was sick to death of the Enterprise and Q's shenanigans.

The vodka and lemonade wouldn't, ultimately, help her out and she knew it. Getting drunk was rarely the solution she needed but it was a damn good distraction. She wondered if maybe she ought to track down that therapist guy, but she rejected the idea as soon as it occurred. She'd deal with her problems on her own.

To distract herself between drinks Lorna was writing down things she missed about home. The list read

"Al
ben and jerry's
Jamie
Guido back in the day
the sky
paperclips"

chaotica

Hugh Cambridge is partway through an analysis of an artifact - an old one, part of an extended paper that he'd never finished - when the transition comes.

At first, he assumes the ship's entered some sort of anomaly, and he turns away from the viewport (the stars have shifted, how odd), his hand moving to his combadge. A quick touch, and he starts, "Cambridge to -"

This isn't Voyager. In fact, this is the Ten-Forward of a Galaxy Class starship, unless he misses his mark. Populated with a few handfuls of people, some out of uniform, some in uniform, but those in are wearing the style that was in use twenty years earlier. Cambridge's uniform has shoulders of a grey-purple, and the turtleneck inside is medical/science blue. His combadge is thinner and sleeker.

"- Oh, bugger," finishes Cambridge. It's an illusion or it's time travel - neither of those bodes well.

aehallh

Irian can only be glad she has been fortunate (if such a thing exists) to have missed the virus that transformed some of the ship's crew and passengers into children. Her own childhood, while not precisely awful, is not exactly a period of time she wants to relive, even at a remove. She is more than content to remain her proper sixty-four years of age in body and mind both.

So this latest prank of Q's is one she is more than happy to leave behind her. Truly she would be grateful if he grew bored with them altogether; perhaps then he would return her to her ship, her crew, her proper timeline, and let her alone. Enterprise's officers have been kind enough to her, and being here is better than being in any number of more deadly or dangerous situations, but the ship is all the same a gilded cage, and it makes her restless.

If nothing else, however, she's established a routine of sorts to try to deal with the feeling: she spends an hour or two in the gym, not long after she gets up in the morning, going through the practice forms of a martial art she learned at the Colleges but hasn't had call to actually use in real combat in years — her form is fundamentally good, just disused. When she's done enough to work up a bit of a sweat, she goes back to her quarters for a shower, then heads to Ten Forward, where she can usually be found through the afternoon with a stack of PADDs and a mug of some tealike beverage, working on a set of personal notes or simply reading.

It's profoundly dull, to someone who is used to functioning at full combat readiness more or less all the time, but it keeps her from going completely mad. Sometimes she wishes Enterprise would get in a fight with something, just to break up the monotony.

[ ooc: feel free to run into her either at the gym or in the lounge. c: ]

tea_earlgrey_hot

The Enterprise arrived at Starbase 4077 not long ago. Not much has been revealed to Picard on the rank or status of his guests other than that they will be beamed aboard within the hour. He still does not like the circumstances, but he is prepared to meet them with dignity.

Which is why he has chosen to wear his dress uniform.

(And before anyone decides to quip with "emphasis on dress!" he'll have you know the latest incarnation has been shortened by several inches and is now worn with standard-issue uniform pants. Players pls.)

While he waits for Transporter Room 1 to call him once his guests are ready to board, he settles in his ready room. His usual cup of earl grey tea is ordered from a replicator with specific instructions on temperature, and once he has gathered the cup in hand he sits and sips it quietly — and then, quickly and with rather less decorum, he spits the tea back out. "What?"

He glares at his cup as though it has betrayed him, and in a way it has. The tea is undrinkable. He fussily orders another, and it too is the same. Bitter, sour, frankly revolting. "What is the matter with this thing?"

It tastes like ... ah, yes. Leola bark tea. Whatever cruel fate would replace his earl grey with this is — no, not fate. Person.

"Kirk," Picard mutters, setting the new cup down and storming out of his ready room. It was not that long ago, fresh from his second stint in the brig, that Kirk had been caught tampering with the replicators in Ten Forward trying to override their programming to provide real alcoholic beverages. A completely childish stunt, when he could have received alcohol from Guinan. But it was the principle of the thing, wasn't it? Buck the rules, cause trouble, a stir, once more challenge his command — well, he will see a stop to this if it is the last thing he does.

Which is how Picard ends up in Ten Forward in his dress uniform, face tight with frustration, gazing about to locate the renegade captain.

"Whomever is responsible for reprogramming the replicators to produce Leola bark tea, I expect you to come forth immediately," he calls into the crowd. "Or anyone who can give me the location of Captain Kirk."

magneticxman

It wasn't horribly late at night but it was late enough that Lorna felt a little bad disturbing Remy. She was dressed and showered (an unsatisfying experience without water), and bored out of her mind. Sleep was an elusive creature and had been ever since her experiences as Vulcan's prisoner. She hoped he would be in and awake so she wouldn't have to walk to the bar alone.

Despite all the horrors her time as a hero had led her to experience she wasn't used to civilian life. Going so long without a fight for her life or the lives of others was strange. In some ways she didn't like it, though she thought she ought to like the peace. Maybe she just wasn't made for it anymore. Maybe conflict was just in her nature. Being pushed around by some invisible jerk with too much power was a sadly familiar concept.

Heavy thoughts like these were the reason she was on Remy's doorstep, hoping he would answer.

magneticxman

Lorna isn't sure why but she's noticed that the social ecosystem on the Enterprise has changed. At first it bothered her, but she doesn't know anyone who's changed so eventually she chalks it up to cabin fever. Truthfully she's a little tired of being confined herself, so she can be sympathetic.

She wanders into Ten Forward reading a PADD and eating an apple. Her attention is on these two things but she still manages to side step everyone she might otherwise bump into. There's a clear table by the window, so that's the one she takes. Once she's seated she looks out the window, smiles softly, and finishes her apple.

ooc: Lorna will be changing partway through all threads into her House of M self.

ETA: Lorna and Booker's thread is highly NSFW

callmegambit

Personal Log, stardate 44195.79851598155...

After recording his log, Remy looked around the expanse of Ten Forward, smiling, as his hands almost automatically drew out a new deck of cards, opened them, and then started shuffling them. But not normally.

Remy was fond of games. He liked games especially if they were skill games, ones requiring an expenditure of effort, not just to win the game, but to show you had some skill in some area. He had played many such back home, from roofrunning to thievery, and he had never backed down from them. He liked them, and what each one brought to his mind new ideas and new variations of old skills and abilities.

Coming up with new ways to shuffle cards was one such thing, and as he watched the room, he began using one new technique after another. Side shuffle, flip the tip, run the line, and more were added to a normal shuffle, then made more complex by card being flipped in the air, and caught, sometimes slowly, and sometimes faster. He wasn't being flashy about it, or trying to catch attention, he was just working on being busy.

For the moment.

(ooc: The thread with Elizabeth has entered into nsfw territory.)

and_she_waited

In some wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey universe where it is a perfect Saturday night ~~and certainly not a Sunday afternoon~~, one can walk into a lounge out in the heart of space and see it made over with candles and linen tablecloths and red rose centerpieces. It's not anything quite as grand as what Q could do. Amy is using the romance of the room: windows looking out across the stars, soft lighting; she even has a trio in one corner playing flute, cello, and violin.

As you walk into Ten Forward, you'll see a sign which says ♥ BLIND DATING TONIGHT, 7PM ♥ and a redhead standing by with 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; even if Amy's first go at this had been that big of a success, the woman in charge, Guinan, insisted the room stay open for other patrons. She's taken mostly the tables around the outside of the room, where there is the best view of space and a little privacy, and each of those tables has a number on it.

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 she truly thinks she outdid herself this time.

[ooc: So for everyone who's been on a blind date before, you know the drill. You and your partner will get a card with your table number, introductions can happen there and where it goes after that is up to you! The Date Gone Wrong scenarios are here if you need a refresher. You can mingle with other participants at the bar; after all, this is all about meeting new people! Threadhop, tag around, tag someone you might not otherwise meet, have fun with it. Again, you don't have to use this post, you can make your own locked posts for your dates, but this should give you a good idea of the setting you have to work with. Amy will be close by if anyone needs her, and I will be available all night if anyone needs me! HAVE FUN. :D]

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Location: Deck 10, Forward: Lounge

ten_fwd_npcs

O-kay, so things have been a little ... odd on the ship. Some people have been acting rather out of character, ducking their duties for romantic escapades or complaining that their good friends aren't quite themselves. Romance may be in the air, but the CMO has other ideas. Like maybe an alien pest who likes to play tricks on people. Her sickbay hasn't gone unaffected, but luckily the strange effects are beginning to wear off and people are returning to work. Still, she's prepared to treat anything. ~~Just please assure her you were safe and responsible if you, uh, made a special friend.~~

If this is your first trip to Sickbay, you may be surprised to see that it's a fairly ordinary-looking hospital. There are no terrifying devices or humming machines you might 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 the staff, they're all well-groomed and friendly. As a matter of fact, all personnel look harmless. Well, relatively harmless.

If you're new to the ship, no doubt you've been escorted here by the security team. Nothing to worry about, the doctors just want to make sure you aren't carrying any viruses or are vulnerable to terrible space disease. Once you've been checked over — a quick scan from a tricorder and any necessary vaccines — you'll be free to go. Lollipops are optional.

"All right, step on in," one of them calls out as you enter. "Don't be afraid. It's just a scan and a hypospray, nothing to worry about."

[ooc: Sickbay is, as always, OTA! For new characters: tagging isn't mandatory but IC going to sickbay is. 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: if you have a preference which doctor sees your character, please specify in the subject line of your tag who you would like (Beverly Crusher, Julian Bashir, Sam Wilson, Mack Gerhardt, and Merlin are definitely on deck, with possible appearances by others). There is a post up in the OOC comm with more details if you have any questions.]

Current Location: Section 23 Baker, Room # 1631: Sickbay

trial_never_ends

Well, well, well. This is promising. He'd been beginning to think nobody here had any sense of fun or gratitude whatsoever, but it seems they're learning to appreciate the gift they've been given.

Or, at least, to participate instead of constantly complaining. Now, if only he could get Picard to do the same. Q's little tribute to the festival of love known as Valentine's Day has not only been successful, but some of his guests have taken it upon themselves to make it more so.

Excellent.

But of course, Valentine's Day is not the only such marvellous celebration traditional at this time, and Q's attention has been caught by another one. One all about enjoying oneself in a festival of excess.

How will they respond to this? A simple thought is all it takes, and the gathered denizens of the Enterprise will find their clothing transformed, masks on their faces, strings of shining beads around their necks to gift to those whom they deem worthy.

But that's not enough. This is a party, and a party needs not just guests but decorations! He waves a hand and Ten Forward is transformed into a riot of purple, yellow, and green, with streamers and banners on the walls and ceiling, ornaments, centrepieces on the tables in the lounge, music, everything necessary for a party to last all day long. There are all sorts of foods, even ones that the replicators have never encountered in the limited understanding of the people who programmed them. Anything anyone here could wish to feast upon, Q shall provide in his magnanimity.

There, on the bar, are the crown for the King and Queen. Of course, Q himself selected the costumes, but that is not to stop anyone modifying them! Competing! Enjoying the Carnivale!

Let the celebrations begin! Q gives the newly redecorated lounge an approving look, then nods, snaps his fingers, and vanishes.

[ OOC: And this is the kick-off for our Mardi Gras celebrations. There's more information available here. Any characters wishing to participate in the costume competition, please tag this post. This post is ONLY open to the costume competition; any other Mardi Gras posts can be made separately. Enjoy! ]

magnetic_magpie

The week of Carnival touches on many memories for Magneto. Not just family history and time spent in Germany before his family had fled, but years in Brazil, too eventful to be called peaceful but at least a time he was happy for periods. And then Lorna had arrived.

At least he'd managed to figure out the replicators enough to get raw materials and in moments alone, both in his quarters and not, he'd managed to make not only a selection of pots and pans, but a small induction cooktop - not much more than a fancy hot plate, but a safe one. And since the replicators kept giving him pantry stables, he'd pulled a metal table (made from seemingly impossibly thin sheeting for the strength) outside his quarter's door into the passageway. And set up his cooktop. And started cooking.

Pancakes on Tuesday. Complete with bowls of butter, jars of syrups and honey, bowls of fruit, some fresh, some he'd cut up and cooked down, a shaker of powdered sugar. It wouldn't be difficult to get him to whip up some heavy cream. Or to get him to make something chocolate instead of normal pancakes.

Berliners on Thursday. Fat, egg-yolk rich balls of dough, fried and filled with a variety of fillings, some glazed, some iced in vanilla or chocolate, some dusted with powdered sugar, some rolled in granulated sugar. There's only half a dozen or so at a time - he's not going to waste the food, but he'll make enough to keep them around. And, as with Tuesday, he'll make something special if asked.

He's antsy and trying to calm down - this helps. More than most would know.

magneticxman

Backdated to Saturday morning. A family reunion that goes more or less as expected.

caelus

Their five year mission was barely underway and Jim was already up to his eyeballs in request after request. Thankfully none of the crew seemed to be exhibiting any symptoms of what they'd been briefed on, which Jim had started calling "space crazy", and maybe ended up stabbed by an angry hypo-wielding best friend after that. But they'd double-checked and triple-checked everything after the damage was repaired from the attack from the late Alexander Marcus, and they were more than ready.

Jim was keen to get some coffee from the synthesizer, maybe a sandwich, and book it to the bridge with the metric ton of requests and work on them while on his duty shift. He managed the coffee, balanced the PADD in his hand, and was eating a piece of buttered toast (Bones could gripe at him later) as he made his way through the corridors. He was certainly looking the epitome of a starship captain there, but luckily not many people were up at this time.

He rounded a corner, nearly to the turbolift to take him to the bridge when there was a flash, and he was someplace---else. He slowed his steps, chewing slowing as he peered around the ---well, it looked like a lounge. He looked at his toast like it was somehow the culprit of this strange turn of his morning. Then he started eyeing the coffee.

It couldn't be the space crazy thing. They'd only been out here a few months. And they'd cleared him after---well, everything. It wasn't psychological. It wasn't emotional. He wouldn't let it be that. He was fine.

He shifted again, toast shoved between his teeth (he's ignoring the few glances stole his way as he stood there in his command gold shirt and black uniform slacks), and fished out his communicator from his pocket. Then he was fumbling to grab the toast out of his mouth (but took a bite first), and flipped his communicator open.

"Bones, if you put something in my coffee again to keep me from drinking so much I might actually murder you." He didn't get anything at first and frowned. "Bones?"

Okay. Okay, maybe this was something else. Something else might be annoying, but at least it was better than space crazy.

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Ten Forward Social Lounge

A Magnetic Personality - OPEN INTRO

Grief and loss are my oldest, steadiest, companions (OTA)

locked to Booker

Personal Log: Sorrows And New Statuses

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Back dated to Dec 6-14 | Hanukkah in Space | party post style is fine

we're gonna party like it's 1920 in New Orleans ( OPEN )

For Magneto

Talk like a pirate day - this isn't how it was at all (open)

One Mutant Space Pirate and his Merry Adventures

I climbed aboard their starship | Open

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[Counselor's Offices]: Round One Counseling Sessions

Fun in Zero-G - OTA

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arrival . ota

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[Ten Forward:] This is why we can't have nice things [OTA]

pl to Remy LeBeau (nsfw)

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Ten Forward, Open

Mrs. Amelia Jessica Pond-Williams Cordially Invites You to Get Your Freak On {Blind Date Mixer!}

[Sickbay]: Round Eight Scans and Vaccines

Mardi Gras Kick-Off!

Two | Open

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james tiberius "perfect hair" kirk, arriving ● open

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March 2016

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