ten_fwd | Entries tagged with shotaro hidari

It is very probable as you went about your day on the Enterprise that you ran across a flier inviting you to a special event. It's not often Captain Picard indulges in such recreational activities, but a certain member of staff has been encouraging him to be less standoffish, and more welcoming to the displaced guests aboard his vessel. A Captain's duties are never complete.

Holodeck 2, located on Deck 11, opens up on a crisp fall evening in San Francisco, California, in the autumn of 1941...

You enter an office with Dixon Hill's name on the door. Inside, his lovely young secretary, Madeline, greets you with a smile and a smart city-girl accent.

"You must be one of Dix's new 'associates'," she singsongs. "Go on inside, Cutie. Dix is just playing with his cute young private dick."

She winks to bring the double entendre home, and gathers up her pocketbook. "Me? I've got a hot date with my fella, so you be sure Dix behaves himself. See you in the morning!"

As she scoots out, you head through the interior door with the frosted glass panel, straight into Dixon Hill's private office...

Current Location: Deck 11: Holodeck 2

tanteiotaku

It wasn't like Mick at all to just wander off on his own for this long. Normally he wasn't too far from Philip's side. He didn't really seem to like anyone except for Philip, after all. He kind of grew to tolerate Shotaro, though. They didn't have much of a choice for a while there, anyway.

But for as long as Mick had been missing, Philip was getting upset. He was the last remaining member of his family, after all. So it fell to Shotaro, finder extraordinaire, to track him down.

The boss had told him, that in order to catch someone, you had to think like your mark. And the same thing applied to cats, right? In one hand he had a feather on a string, one of Mick's favorite toys. But he wasn't just waggling it around calling the cats' name like a normal person, no. That was for amateurs. Instead, he was making his best "Myaaaa~" as he went along the corridors. He was hunched over, with his hands curled over like paws. Occasionally he would rub at his ear like a cat that was cleaning its face. Some of the time he would even have his eyes closed, for the sake of focus.

He didn't really pay attention to where he was doing this, so if he's being loud outside the door of someone doing important work that needs focus, or some poor sap that got stuck on third watch last night, then that was unfortunate. He's a detective in the zone.

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.]

she_listens

There are more new arrivals on the ship. They seem to come and go in waves, rather than one at a time. Q sweeps them in, Q sweeps them out again. No rhyme, no reason. She's been looking for patterns, keeping her eye on what she can.

But until they know more, she's more interested in who arrives.

Everyone has a story, and everyone needs a calm place through the storm. She places both palms flat on the bar, and smiles.

"Can I get you something?"

Current Location: Deck 10: Forward

tanteiotaku

It would just figure that as soon as Shotaro had decided to go to Philip with his feelings, Q had more craziness awaiting them. When they were both kids was hardly the time to have a conversation like this. But now they weren't. And the dust had finally settled around another new wave of arrivals. Billy's words a few weeks earlier still rang in his ears.

So there was nothing else stopping him from knocking--yes, knocking-- on his partner's door. The rhythm with which he did so was slightly different than usual. Or at least it felt that way. Suddenly, he was conflicted. Did he want him to be in? Or maybe so absorbed with something he didn't even notice him at the door? What the hell was he even going to say? He should probably come back when he had an actual plan.

But it was too late now. He was here and he had let Philip know that. He just had to rely on the wild card that had gotten him through its own share of scrapes.

decideformyself

[ a. | pre-kiddification, but still contagious ]

There had to be some way of getting Q to leave them alone, and Philip thinks he's on to something.

He's wandering the halls, a heavy book in his hands, looking down at it and mumbling to himself. Maybe, just maybe, if everyone can agree to be boring...

[ b. | kiddified ]

A small child is in Ten Forward, standing in front of one of those windows and peering close at his reflection. From the look on his face, it's as though he's never seen himself like this before.

The last time Philip was this young he barely had any sense of self. So in a way, this is a new experience for him. He can't imagine why Shotaro was so angry about it. This is just so intriguing.

fedorasizesmall

[Corridors and Philip's room]

Sure, he's been old before, but that was in his beloved Fuuto. Being less than half his original age in a place like this was distinctly more alarming. And so ran a decidedly smaller hard-boiled detective (perhaps more like a quail egg right now) through the corridors. "This is bad! What the hell?!" He was making his way to Philip's room through the guest quarters' hallway. At the fastest speed his little legs could take him, and likely not looking too close at where he was going.

When he got to his partner's door, he reached up to jam on the doorbell and he beat relentlessly on the door itself. He didn't really care if he disturbed Philip's roommate. "Oi! Philip! Open up! This is important!"

[In Ten Forward, contagious as hell]

There was something wrong with his coffee. It tasted awful. Somehow with his tiny kid-sized body went his adult taste buds. But at least he was still dressed the part. So he searched through the Enterprise databases for something sweeter. What the hell was a Frappuccino? Some coffee shop weirdness. Like some kind of coffee milkshake. That'll do. Mocha frappuccino with extra whip creme and chocolate shavings on top. Nevermind this was far from hard-boiled, but it was super tasty. That was all that mattered.

And the caffeine and sugar buzz later was just a bonus.

ten_fwd_npcs

[[ Moments earlier, in Transporter Room 1... ]]

Picard re-enters Ten Forward tonight, this time leading a group of three. Only one appears to be in a Starfleet uniform, though it isn't precisely like the ones guests see every day. The color is command red, but there is extensive gold trimming which indicates that this officer is of a higher rank than any the Enterprise entertains on a daily basis.

"All of our guests, at one time or another, come to Ten Forward," Picard tells them. He looks tired already. After this, he will certainly need a cup of earl grey tea. "Most appear here on their first visit to the ship, and as such it's one of the few places they are allowed until they pass quarantine."

"Until you let them loose on the rest of the ship, and even give them employment, you mean?" the Vice Admiral counters.

Captain Picard sighs.

"Are the displaced guests allowed to mingle with the rest of the complement?" the woman asks, surprised. She stifles a yawn behind her hand, embarrassed by the slip. She's inexplicably tired all of a sudden.

"Yes, of course," Captain Picard answers. "The alternative would be keeping them under lock and key. We don't allow them in restricted areas, of course, but they are free to visit any civilian areas of the ship."

The third person among them, by far the most innocuous and average-looking of the group, slips into the crowd.

"Clearly we have a lot of work ahead of us," the Vice Admiral sighs, fixing Picard with a pointed look.

[ooc: ~casually floods the comm with Picard's face, oops~ OK, so here's the promised arrivals post for your June plots. If you're getting your characters involved in the little rascals plot, you can send one around to bump into one of our three NPCs. By tomorrow, you'll all look a little younger. If you signed up for an encounter with one of these officers, you can start first impressions here. We'll be sending links to a more formal "questioning" for all characters in the sign-ups post. This is NOT your only opportunity to get in on the kid plot. Once the first few tag in, they will be contagious and tagging them in their logs will pass the virus onto your characters. If this post gets flooded we may close it to new tags, just so we can give everyone who does tag in our full attention. If you want a thread with one NPC in particular, let us know in the subject line of your tag, otherwise we'll pull one from the random hat for you. Picard is not open for tags, but he does have an OTA post here if you need him.]

morphitudinous

It appears that Q's been double dipping, as one of the new arrivals isn't exactly new. For Billy it's been but a few weeks since his disappearance, but one of the first things he does is get the current date. He's been gone quite a while, he knows almost immediately. Would anyone he knew still be present, or would they have vanished behind him?

Billy doesn't know, but he does know that he'll be all right---hopefully. He has a routine to settle back into, and if he can get re-acquainted in the meantime? That would be great. He places his familiar water order, sits with a PADD, and re-starts his research as usual.

After a few moments, though, he has to remove his glasses and rub his eyes. The glare, the artificial gravity...it's not just his mind that has to reorient itself, apparently.

"Were the effects this severe last time...?"

super_seal

In the last handful of hours, Steve McGarrett had been in a plane crash, hand-to-hand combat with Wo Fat, a gun fight with the Yakuza, and a stand-off with Adam Noshimuri. He was tired, sore and still bloody, not taking time to clean up after reuniting with his team to escort Wo Fat to his holding cell.

Now that Wo Fat was secure, Steve was looking forward to getting home and having a shower. He expected Danny to show up at some point and the two would share a beer out on the lanai before bed. No better way to finish off what had been a stressful but overall productive day.

Leaving the jail, still dressed in his black cargo pants and T-shirt, he headed out to his truck with a smile on his face. He could feel the pull of the bruises and cuts with the smile - the double angled-line shallow cuts on his right cheek and the split and swollen lip on the left side of his mouth. Using his thumb he gently touched the cut on his left forehead, thankful to find it had stopped bleeding but had no doubt that his left eye and cheek was going to be a nice shade of black and blue by morning.

Suddenly, in between one step and the next, he’s no longer outside crossing the prison parking lot but… He stops short eyes darting around. He has no idea where he actually is.

Crouching slightly he’s instantly ready for action. His right hand instantly moves to rest on his gun in it’s holster on his hip, while his left is held out slightly from his body, ready to defend himself or pull the knife that stored in his boot.

Eyes wide he scans his new surroundings. It looks like a restaurant of some sort. Tables and chairs throughout with a bar running along one wall. The other wall a bank of windows with what appears to be outer space on the other side. Steve frowns, confused. Where the hell is he?!

Where he is exactly is a question that he needs answered but it’s not the current priority. He’s still assessing for threats, although he notices that the people around him seem to be relaxed. Enjoying dinner or a drink at the bar.

What the hell?!

Current Location: Ten Forward

tasha_yar

Tasha hadn't want to scare anyone - or worse - have their pity. She'd been here on some nights before, but always in disguise and making it a point to watch, but not interact, with anyone. Also, she didn't like to admit it, but she loved make-up. Not the kind that Deanna or Beverly wore to bring out their features. That kind of make-up wasn't for her. It didn't feel right on. She didn't like extra attention regarding her appearance; a holdover from Turkana IV, she supposed.

But make-up to disguise? To conceal who and what you were and be able to become someone else? She had an incredible love of that. She justified her enjoyment by its usefulness as a skill, but it was more than that. It was a chance to be someone without the burden of duty or a past. Someone more normal - unless the part called for something else.

The risk of discovery also played a big part in both the thrill of the challenge and the growing irritation at her self-imposed isolation. Tasha justified it easily. She might disappear at any moment - or maybe even drop dead - because "dead" was still her official status, though Picard had assured her the wheels of bureaucracy were getting a firm push regarding all that. Starfleet's reluctance was understandable with all the strange happenings onboard the ship, but it gnawed at her patience. She didn't want to upend anyone's life, but she missed them! It would also mean opening herself up to stacks of unfinished business, too, but she was tired of avoiding her friends - even is she still thought keeping her distance might remain the best course of action.

At least her insistence on isolation had gotten her caught up on as much security information and protocols a civilian had access to. Well, a civilian and a cadet. It turned out the Academy hadn't cancelled her alumni access. There wasn't much dangerous in that, but "not much" wasn't "nothing" by a longshot. She'd have to talk to them about that.

Tasha's tired of keeping to herself and making Aggie feel like she's rooming with a crazy hermit. Tonight, she's keeping her "disguise" to a hooded sweatshirt. It's time to go Ten Forward, to stop being someone else, face what, if anything, comes of it.

ten_fwd_npcs

It's not very often a passenger is taken to Deck 33, and for good reason. Deck 33 is where the brig is located. If you're unlucky enough to find yourself there, you'll notice that there are security officers standing guard outside the brig, as well as one stationed inside. The cells are separated by forcefield to prevent further incident between prisoners, and while it looks and sounds like there is no barrier between the cells and the room at large, there is no crossing over until the forcefields are lowered.

There have been incidents on the ship before, isolated ones and minor infractions, but this is a whole new ballgame. Q's latest game has wreaked havoc among the passengers, turning even the most polite among them into disturbers of the peace, in ways both small and — regrettably and dangerously — large. Security has been scrabbling to keep up (the ones who weren't affected by the events themselves, that is), but it's safe to say the brig has never been this full before.

Should a passenger make an inquiry after someone at one of the computer terminals, or access the directory on their PADDs, if the person they're looking for is here their location will be noted as 'BRIGGED' in bold font. Visitors are allowed entrance after they check in with the guards on duty, but no one is allowed to be alone with the prisoners. Once the prisoners are back to normal, they will be released.

Assuming they cause no further mischief, of course.

[ooc: Bit of a delayed OTA brig log for those who were requesting one. More info here.]

Current Location: Deck 33: Room #5244, Brig

gaiamemory

Philip is so confused. He wanders his way to Ten Forward, rubbing the bruise over his eye. He needs to sit down and think about this for a bit. Figure out why Shotaro was doing and saying the things that he is.

But once he steps into the lounge there's a flash of light and all of a sudden, he isn't Philip anymore.

He's dressed in a somewhat more respectable manner, his hair down without any clips, and he has a confused look on his face. He gingerly touches a hand to his face. Why does his eye hurt so bad?

And why is he in Ten Forward, anyway? He has work to do.

Raito turns on his heel and storms down the corridor. Being trapped on some spaceship in interstellar space isn't going to stop him from his Gaia Memory research. He's sure that with the help of the replicator, he can obtain the materials he needs to continue his work.

[ AU Philip, aka Raito! He's a workaholic mad scientist who, if not kept in check, is probably going to try and turn his fellow Enterprise inhabitants into literal monsters. Oops. More details here for the curious. ]

windpunk

Shotaro knew exactly what he was going to do. Honestly, why hadn’t he done this earlier? He was sick of sitting around and playing nice. It was time to shake things up.

And by shake things up, he meant a paint can. He was pretty sure a ship like this had ways of cleaning it, but that didn’t mean his work wouldn’t be seen. The classic rattle of a few spray cans echoed down the corridor as he hastily left his mark on the walls around decks 7, 9, and 10. Sometimes they were just tags which was the kanji for Hidari written in a way it would kind of resemble an L and followed with -efty. Thus, 左efty.

In other places, he was leaving such insightful things as “WhQ are YQu?”, “still air is stale air”, and “Less Directives more Directions Home”, all signed with a smaller version of his tag. Down long stretches of corridor he’d make long parallel lines the culminated in a curl. It was supposed to be the blowing wind. He chose neon colors, mostly green and yellow. His technique was crude and amateurish. He wasn’t all that good at this.

But he was putting good effort into one piece. It was the mascot character of Fuuto Fuuto-kun dressed as a hard-boiled detective, with a smoking revolver in one hand, pointed toward the viewer. The crucial element, a fedora, was lovingly poised between a couple of the pinwheel blades at a jaunty angle. The necktie was green and had the red F on it, and the suit itself was black. Shame he wasn’t quite good enough to work in some pinstripes. He told the turbolift that lead to the bridge to stop long enough for him to complete it. This was also signed.

As for his clothing, he wore loose, sagging, straight leg jeans with leather stripes running down the legs. On top he had a shiny nylon jacket with a black torso, purple arms, and on the back was embroidered Fuuto-kun styled after a Hoyle Joker with “Trump Card” written above and below it in purple. The t-shirt underneath was white with a fleur de lis made from small metal studs. His hair was bleached to a honey blonde and his fringe was pulled back, twisted, and held in place with a metal clip.

((This is Shotaro without the influence of Sokichi Narumi to straighten him out. Still idealistic but his methods.... Also looking for him to pick a fight with someone in authority or a member of Starfleet and end up in the brig by the end of this plot. Taking anyone!))

decideformyself

Finally, the program Philip had spent the past three weeks on was complete. Time to take it out for a test drive.

"Computer, load program Philip-2," he ordered, and the black-and-yellow of the holodeck was replaced by a blank white space. Bookshelves quickly zipped in to fill that space, extending for what seems like an infinite distance in every direction -- including up and down.

There was some lag compared to the Gaia Library. He'd have to tweak the velocity parameters later.

"Beginning the lookup," he said to nobody in particular. "First keyword: U.S.S. Enterprise." The word appeared hovering in front of his face in green text as the bookshelves began to rearrange themselves. Some of them zipped right out of the simulation entirely. Several shelves remained, though; the selection wasn't pared down by that keyword as much as it could have been.

Philip tapped his chin. "Additional keywords: NCC-1701-D. Jean-Luc Picard." With each additional keyword, the number of shelves present reduced itself. Finally there was only one shelf remaining, and then it too was gone, leaving behind only a handful of books.

Philip reached for one of the books. With a glowing light, the word Vehicle appeared on its front and spine. Maybe he should tweak that, too; it was too broad of a category for a time period with functional starships.

But those minor details could wait. Right now, all that mattered was that his program was successful. He'd put together a far more intuitive browser for the Enterprise's databanks. Now he could read to his heart's content.

...until somebody else wanted the holodeck, that is.

[ This has been cleared with Gabby, but basically Philip has programmed a way to browse the Enterprise's database from the holodeck in a manner that resembles the library in his brain. Visual reference! Only information accessible from the ship's computers is available. Restricted information appears in the form of locked books that can't be opened without the requisite authorization codes.

If you want to come boggle at this needlessly convoluted browsing method, feel free. ]

primeverdeen

Prim had been walking around looking for Katniss, as usual. She had tasted some new food and again wanted to share it with her sister, and she wanted to talk to Katniss about Fatima again. She really thought that they could be friends. If Katniss could be friends with Finnick, how could she not see how great Fatima was? How could she say Finnick was safe but Fatima was too dangerous?

She found her sister, heading into their room. She... could have just waited. Sighing, she ran to catch up to her sister just in time to see a white light envelope her. And then... she was gone.

"KATNISS!" she screamed as her sister vanished. She ran to the door, to the spot her sister vanished. She... was gone. No... no.... NO! She couldn't be gone. COULDN'T BE!

"KATNISS!" she screamed, hysterically. "KATNISS!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

captainproton

Tom was in front of one of the replicators in Ten Forward, doing a favor for the crew and guests of the Enterprise. He was programming in leola root stew. And then maybe if they were lucky he'd get to leola root casserole, tart, tea and leola root rice pilaf. Really, the alpha quadrant didn't know what they were missing, and Tom was determined to expose them to it. They needed to suffer every bit as the Voyager crew. Too bad Enteprise's replicators were working and no one was forced to eat it. Maybe he could do something about that, it would be a learning experience for them. He'd be exposing them to other alien cultures! Wasn't that their mission?

"Computer, One cup of leola root stew, hot."

Picking it up and tasting it, Tom grimaced.

"I had forgotten how truly disgusting this stuff is. Might need more mildew though...."

And then Tom looked around for B'Elanna to have her taste it. Seven should be thrilled she always stuck to nutritional supplements on Voyager and as thus Tom couldn't subject her to his little experiment.

Tom grabbed the nearest person he could find, offering the bowl. "Do me a favor. Taste this." And held the cup up to them.

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

ainori

Shotaro had been having a very hard-boiled day, as usual. It had currently manifested itself in a way that suited a man of his skill and line of work: a nap on a table in Ten Forward. To be fair, he hadn't meant to do it. It was just that kind of day.

But unfortunately, he woke up very different than how he had gone to sleep. "Shotaro! Shotaro!" he heard his partner yelling at him.

"Haaah? I'm awake, I'm awake, what is it?"

But he didn't need to wait for an explanation. He looked down at his hands--their hands to see Cyclone Joker Gold Extreme all around them. "Eh? How did this--?" Then he got a good look around at the lounge, at the beads, decor, and at the color theme. All articulation fell away and he just started shouting. Very very loudly.

((OOC: Time for more two-in-one shenanigans! Feel free to ask for either Philip or Shotaro, or both, and the other of them may butt in at their pleasure. All tags will come from

ainori, and only one tag should come, no need to wait for another. We'll coordinate that stuff on our end.))

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! ]

and_she_waited

The redhead has been sitting at a table for a while now.

She hasn't made a fuss or otherwise stood out too much, but the keen eye will know she's been looking more gutted as the minutes tick on. Not so long ago, her husband left the ship* — all fine and well, he's gone off to find the Doctor and their way back home, though why Amy couldn't go with him is still beyond her. She's actually hoping that Q character shows up so she can punch him in the nose.

He doesn't, though. But you know what does start happening? Happy, smiling faces. People falling in love (like really in love, what's that about?). Romance, dinners. Is it Valentine's Day?

"Oh, bollocks," she mutters, because now she misses Stupid Face even more.

She can't be the only one, though. Lots of people here have been taken far from home, lots more even who don't have anyone they know by their side. For a moment she takes some comfort in that, but then it gets her thinking. What about that lot? What are we supposed to do when all these people are mooning over each other in plain view?

She looks to the left. She looks to the right. And then Mrs. Amelia Jessica Pond-Williams climbs up on her chair and stands on the table and shouts so the whole room can hear her.

"All right, everyone! Listen up! Lots of us spent Christmas on this boat away from home, so I say if we're gonna be stuck here for another holiday while everyone's spoutin' love at each other, maybe we should get to know each other better. Those of us who're here alone or separated from our loved ones, that is. Well, anyone! Point is, Amy Pond's Dating Service is now open! If you want to meet someone, today's your lucky day," she says, with a grand sweep of her hand.

She dismounts and strides over to the bar to see if she can get some serviettes to write on. Oh, right. Paper isn't much of a thing here, is it? To the replicator it is.

A few minutes later, there's a sign sitting on her table in colourful reds and pinks, and she's holding a clipboard in her hands.

~*BLIND DATING SIGN-UPS*~

[ *There will be a PL posted soon with more info about that! ]

decideformyself

It was February 2nd, as far as Philip could tell by converting the stardate to the Gregorian calendar. And that date was very important.

It was his partner's birthday.

So that morning, Philip made his way through the ship, stopping everybody he and Shotaro knew to let them know the news. He approached people randomly in Ten Forward, in the halls, and even knocked on some doors. He wasn't planning a party; not on this short of notice, and not without Aki-chan and Ryu Terui around to participate. But he did mention to everyone he ran into that perhaps they should consider getting something for Shotaro.

And that afternoon, Philip casually invited Shotaro to the holodeck. Just because there wasn't going to be a party didn't mean they couldn't do something fun.

tanteiotaku

Shotaro had never really been the working out kind. Pounding the pavement and beating up Masquerades or other punks that needed punching was usually more than adequate to keep him in shape. And he had usually been far too busy to even consider that much of a regimen. But since coming to the Enterprise he hadn't much cause for defending people. He could see now that Picard and his people were making good in their actions what their pretty words at the outset of this debacle promised. And the offers to find ways for people to help on the ship was all fine and good for most people. Shotaro wasn't the uniform wearing type.

Nor was he really one for loose workout pants, a t-shirt, and sneakers, but here he was. He never considered his jeans an impediment to the kind of moves he needed to make in a fight but one normally dresses for the occasion. But once he was in the workout room proper, he strode around with his hands on his hips. What exactly was he trying to accomplish here? Just working out some idle thoughts, mostly? Or something deeper than that?

He missed Fuuto. He knew that. He had since the enormity of how far removed they were in both space and time had sunk in. Hundreds of years and thousands of light years. The Federation had its roots on Earth, but that Earth was so different that it might as well be another planet.
( Broodings and ruminations )

When someone came along nearby, he pushed his hair off his sweaty forehead and gave them a nod. “I’ll be done in a minute,” he said with a smirk. He made an effort to keep any sign of what he was brooding over off his face. But he wasn’t all that good at it. Or just maybe someone might catch him by surprise in the middle of his thoughts.

((Open for any and all harassment! He'd be down for a practice fight, chitchat, or someone telling him what he's doing wrong bc there's probably plenty.))

decideformyself

After Alemar III, Philip is understandably a little apprehensive about another shore leave. But reading the information on Risa in the Enterprise's database helps to ease that. To think that there's an entire planet just for vacations! He'd never imagined such a thing before.

So once he's down there, he's going to try just about everything there is to do. Hiking; visiting those underground gardens with the glowing plants; sunbathing; and of course, eating. Alien food is so wonderful, after all.

Aside from Shotaro, he doesn't make much of an effort to stick close to anybody else from the Enterprise. He's just too giddy about trying all these new things. But if he should happen to run into anyone he recognizes, you can bet he's going to greet them.

tanteiotaku

Akiko would have been proud to know that Shotaro had gotten busy on some self-promotion here on the Enterprise. It suited the starship's name, at any rate. With a few markers and his typewriter, he'd gotten together the rudiments of a promotional flyer. And then used the replicator to duplicate his work of art enough to leave on every table, most corridors, and even the turbolifts a flyer advertising his skills. "Narumi Space Detective Agency! Hard-boiled detectives Shotaro Hidari and Philip are here to solve the mysteries that plague the Enterprise! Specializing in lost pets since 2009! No case too big or small! Find us in rooms #0716 and #0726, or wherever the winds of trouble threaten the peace of this ship!"

No sooner had he gotten them all out there then did he see a small cluster of suckling pigs rush past him squealing. He stopped in place and watched them pass him the other direction, turning in place on one foot, his hands on his hips. This stank of Q. He was pretty sure leaving a bunch of pigs to wander a ship like this was a bad idea.

He deployed the Memory Gadgets. Spider created a pen for them, spanning the width of the corridor, only tall enough to keep them from climbing. Any person would be easily able to step over and through the small group of piglets, assuming they missed the mess they were making on the carpeting. Stag and Bat were providing backup in helping him corner pigs to get them into their corral.

Shotaro hadn't looked at a map to verify, but he hoped there wasn't anything critical down this hallway. It would be unfortunate if some officer or the other messed up their nice shoes.

Taking a break from rounding up pigs, he caught Stag in midair and pulled the memory out of it so he could call his partner. "Hey, Philip. What do pigs eat?"

((OOC: Down for any and all Christmas/Saturnalia shenanigans here. Bring your snow flurries, mistletoe, and general harassment toward the half-boiled detective.

tanteiotaku

Pounding shoe leather was his favorite way to work a case. Even with Double, the gadgets, and everything else that went with it, this was timeless. Even out here in space. A detective’s best asset was the people around him. That would never change. It was a nice bonus they were dressed as the other legendary detective combo, Holmes and Watson (regrettably Shotaro was not Holmes).

Even with the Gaia Library on the brain, he had to stay focused. The sooner he figured things out, the better. So they were going to start at Ten Forward. First, with Guinan and the other people that run the place, then with whoever was around. Notebook in hand, he was ready to take down whatever was important. He was mainly worried about anything weird that had gone on, which of the candy they'd eaten, and if they'd seen anyone matching the description of the form Q had taken last he'd seen. Of course, trying to track down a guy that could take any form he wanted based on a physical description was probably pointless but this guy was prideful enough to want to take credit.

But that was not the only mystery to be solved. The replicators in his and Philip's rooms as well as those in Ten Forward were only spitting out candy no matter what was requested. That meant not only was Shotaro uncaffeinated, but Philip was probably working on a sugar high. And he was fairly sure there were others. That would not do. So he started at one end of the corridor the compulsory guests occupied and started toward the other end. A knock on the door --yes, a knock-- before hitting the intercom. And, if he spotted someone he wanted to talk to in the hall, he was sure to take a moment with them.

Later, after he'd collected a fair amount of information and was able to make some conclusions, he decided they needed to go talk to the Captain about this. He was sure he was already aware, but he hoped they had more information to give than what they’d gathered. He could hope, anyway. And it was a fine enough excuse to go check out the bridge. Just this once, anyway. So onto the turbolift they went, as though they had no inkling that they did not belong there.

[OOC: This post is for both Philip and Shotaro, if you have a preference, let us know which nerd you’d like in the subject line. This is open to anyone anywhere throughout the event so hit it whenever you like.]

decideformyself

Philip doesn't actually notice for a while that anything has changed.

He's too busy standing in the middle of his and Rory Pond's quarters, eyes closed, looking up scarab beetles. Such fascinating insects. It's only when he opens his eyes and goes to write on one of the many whiteboards he's replicated and hung on the walls that he notices it. He's dressed quite differently from how he was before.

He peers through the magnifying glass he's holding down at the fabric of his coat. "How curious..."

And then, once he's gotten his fill of examining his strange new outfit, he's out looking for Shotaro. Which isn't to say, of course, that he won't run into anyone else on the way...

writes_with_digital_ink

Over the past few months, the arboretum has become Gaila's favourite place on the ship. It's not just that she's Orion - although that is a factor, given how much she needs the UV lights to maintain wellbeing - but also, well.

Plants are plants. They haven't changed much. They aren't decades of history she has to catch up, and they aren't decades of computing changes that she has to relearn. They just...

Grow.

So it is that today the arboretum has one temporally-and-reality displaced Orion computing engineer, doing some volunteer maintenance on a few pots.

[ooc: *waves* so, uh, hi guys, long time no see! I'm still going to be pretty slow thanks to school - and I won't be able to have many threads - but here, have a Gaila. :D? ]

wearsahat

One minute, Alex is walking home from school with Ray. The next, she's in the middle of... a restaurant? Is that what this place is? What in the world? Did she suddenly develop teleporting powers? Oh man. That would be really cool, except she's pretty sure that's not it.

The first thing that catches her eye is the view out the windows. Okay, so it's nighttime all of a sudden. She moves over to get a closer look and then realizes that no, it's not night. It's space.

Whoa.

"Um, excuse me!" she calls out to whoever's nearby. "Can somebody help me?"

***

Once she's figured out where she is and that it has nothing to do with the chemical plant or her powers she's a bit calmer. Still, it doesn't make any sense: Space? The future? Seriously?

She's not too eager to be quarantined, either. She definitely needs to investigate this place more.

So when she's fairly sure nobody is looking at her, she slips under a table, morphs into a puddle of liquid, and zips out of Ten Forward to explore the ship at large. Try not to step on her.

She doesn't stay liquid the whole time; she demorphs partway through her exploration in favor of tiptoeing around "stealthily". Because that's not suspicious at all.

[ Feel free to find Alex in either Ten Forward in human form, or in either human or puddle form pretty much anywhere else that she'd be able to reach without security clearance. ]

dreams_dont_die

He's not sleeping well.

He tells himself it's the narrow, unfamiliar bed, the room that's too small, too sparse after years in the captain's quarters on the Andromeda Ascendant. Or maybe just the way the Enterprise haunts him with its subtle and not-so-subtle wrongness in comparison to everything he's used to. Even being unsettled from being trapped on the planet, from how close poor planning had come to killing him.

Not the nightmares. Not the presence of Telemachus Rhade disturbing feelings he'd thought he'd buried long ago. Not the sense of futile helplessness to be stuck here, now, with no cause, no purpose. Not the aching sense of missing everything he'd known and loved, not just once over, but twice.

He misses Andromeda like a physical pain. Whatever the rules might say, since the two of them came out of the black hole, she's been all he's had, all that gave him meaning, purpose, the tangible connection to the world he's trying to rebuild. More than that, she's been his adviser, his closest friend, his partner in a way nobody who hasn't experienced it can understand.

He misses her like he misses Sara, the High Guard, the world he used to take for granted. He's been barely coping with those losses since he found himself 303 years in his own future, with nothing left of the world he'd known but the Andromeda.

Now even she's gone, and in those moments when he can't sleep, even Dylan has to wonder if that's just one loss too many.

Tonight, rather than let himself be alone with those thoughts, he's in the bar, in his High Guard turtleneck, still wearing his insignia as a futile reminder that he's still a captain. Even here.

He's been drinking rather a lot, but one of the things about being a Heavy Worlder is that it takes a hell of a lot to get drunk, between the huge muscle mass and the accelerated metabolism.

That's not stopping him trying if the glass of spirits he's got in front of him is any indication.

Current Location: Deck Ten: Forward (Lounge)

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Ten Forward Social Lounge

[Halloween Event:] Dixon Hill's Murder Mystery Party!

The Missing F // On the case!

ota

[Ten Forward:] Serving up drinks | OTA

L on the Lips // Time for a Confession // Private Log

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Rewind to the S // He's been old before.... // OTA

[Ten Forward:] Arrival of Starfleet Brass

EP #2: Ten Forward

OTA | Arrival

(Open) The Stranger

[Brig:] April Fools' Arrests

M of the Detective // Can't Be Dissuaded

M of the Detective // What almost was

That's not what the holodeck is for [OTA]

Found and Lost - OTA - Outside Prim's quarters

Anyone care for some leola root?

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

The Q Again // Mardi Gras

Mardi Gras Kick-Off!

Operation: Amy Pond's Blind Dating Service is a go!

Surprise! [OTA]

The L Word // Time for something different

[OTA]

Escape of the P// A Roman Holiday

The G is Afoot // Happy Halloween Ten Forward!

T or T / Open

The Arboretum

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(no subject)

Ten Forward

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March 2016

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