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2 points((Par'tha Expanse, Shuttlecraft B’hala)) M’Roa: oO How good to finally graduate. This one’s path has been long and winding. Thorny bushes have obscured the way and cut M’Roa’s beautiful soft fur as she hacked and carved a path through. Oo ::By contrast, R’Iondr’s path was well traveled, with smooth brick underneath to guide the way. They met one another as starry eyes freshman cadets, yet he had completed his training, a year long cadet cruise and graduated a full four years ahead of her. She had been left alone from that point to raise their cub and S’Emar was such a daddy’s girl. It was no wonder she was so clingy with him now.:: S’Emar: Are we nearly there yet? R’Iondr: For the last time, no. Now settle yourself. We’ll get there when we get there. ::His tone was firm but not harsh. He let out a long sigh and looked longingly around the cramped shuttle. There weren’t many seats and few of them were empty but it hadn’t stopped S’Emar from trying them all out. The young Caitian was moulting into her summer coat and leaving short hairs everywhere. While R’Iondr and M’Roa both wished they could stretch their legs, there wasn’t really anywhere to go. They weren’t filled with the impudence of youth and could tolerate discomfort for much longer.:: S’Emar: S’Emar is bored! ::Whining petulantly:: ::M’Roa didn’t blame her. They had all talked for many hours when reuinted on the shuttle. After having spent so much time apart, it felt like they would never be able to catch up. Yet, they had and while the adults were content to simply enjoy one another’s company now, the lack of bold and exciting stories left nothing to distract their child from the boredom.:: M’Roa: Why don’t you read one of your novels then? ::There wasn’t room to lay out card, dice or board games. What little entertainment they’d brough along had to be quiet to avoid disruption to other travellers. S’Emar’s PADD had various ebooks downloaded. M’Roa had let her choose her own, hoping that would ensure they’d hold her attention. S’Emar liked funny and scary books the best.:: S’Emar: Borrrring… ::It also had some interactive games. As long as she used the earbuds, it wouldn’t disturb the others.:: R’Iondr: What about one of your games then? S’Emar: Okay! ::M’Roa was sure she would have set to licking their boots clean if R’Iondr had asked for it. Rolling her eyes they settled back as S’Emar contended herself a while longer. A Bajoran woman approached. Up until now the olive skinned woman had been occupied with other things and they had paid her no mind.:: Udro: I’m sorry I have not been much of a traveling companion to you all. M’Roa: Apologies are not necessary. R'Iondr: You are heading to Atlantis too, yes? Are you new, or returning? Udro: I’ve been on Atlantis over a year now, its a good ship. Will this be your first postings M’Roa: For M’Roa, yes. This one just graduated. R'Iondr: This humble engineer has served at Deep Space 26 a few years now. We’re glad to be reunited. M’Roa: We just thought it might be on a planetary assignment or a station. ::The advisors at the Academy had assured them that Starfleet families were quite common and that as far as reasonable possible, they did try to keep families together. They said they tended to avoid placing families on ships with more dangerous or far flung assignments and that they would likely work different shifts to ensure at least one parent was able to be with the child as much as possible. It had certainly put to bed fears of being absent parents with a child raised by a computer. Things weren’t working out entirely as envisioned but Starfleet has kept their word about keeping the family together and that was the most important thing in their minds.:: S’Emar: S'Emar is hungry! M’Roa: oO Sun and moon! We still have a good days worth of travel ahead and she is increasingly restless. Oo M’Roa: There are snack bars in your bag. S’Emar: Mother refers to ration bars. This one is sick of dry, tasteless ration bars. S’Emar longs for steak. M’Roa: You can’t have steak just now, but as soon as we get settled into our new home, we will celebrate with the most succulent steak you’ve ever tasted. S’Emar: Okay! ::Her tone was bright and chipper. She was a true child of the sun:: But what can this one have now? ::Neither of them could blame S’Emar for being tired of the same textures and flavours. They’d tried to include as much of a variety of foods as possible and she’d been really good about things up until now. The shuttle was equipped with a small replicator, but one could hardly sit and eat a delicious bowl of soup. One little bump in the ride and they’d all be scalded. Still, perhaps it was time to retrieve something a little more exciting.:: R’Iondr: R’Iondr knows just the thing, hold on a moment. ::He went to the replicator, leaving her with the nice Bajoran lady.:: M’Roa: What role do you serve in on the Atlantis? Udro: Response M’Roa: How is Starfleet life? What’s it really like beyond the pretty advertising, the sunshine and smiles. Udro: Response Ensign M’Roa Intelligence Officer USS Atlantis A239506M10
1 point((Observation Lounge, USS Gorkon)) ::She didn't know why she was sat here, staring out of the window. Any console where she could access the ship's sensors would be far more helpful in her current endeavour. The many sensor pallets of the Gorkon were vastly superior to her own eyes, and yet she desperately wanted to see the arrival of the Triumphant in person, rather than through a console screen. ::So there she sat, and there she squinted, waiting for the tiny, familiar dot of white to get close enough for her eyes to find it. ::It took a while, but there it was. A smile like the breaking dawn caught her lips, and she watched as the punchy, powerful little ship took a slow, graceful arc toward the planet. The orbit insertion was a complicated, fancy manoeuvre -- Walter was clearly letting his helmsman show off, and it made her chuckle. She watched the little ship circle the planet for a while, indulging in a little nostalgia about her time aboard it.:: Brunsig: =/\= Brunsig to Reynolds. I'll be in the transporter room in five. =/\= Reynolds: =/\= Aren't you supposed to ask permission to come aboard? =/\= ::She grinned at the impatient sigh that echoed through the channel.:: Brunsig: =/\= I assumed that the Ktarian chocolate puff I've brought with me would do the talking. =/\= ::She was out of her chair like a torpedo from its tube, heading straight for the closest transporter room.::: ((Personal Quarters, USS Gorkon)) ::The next morning, the first sensations she had on waking was perfect comfort and warmth. Warm, in no small part, due to the other body in the bed that was laid against her, the comforting weight of an arm draped over her waist, legs entangled with hers. Her small movements prompted a breath of air against her neck, a kiss just underneath her ear.:: Brunsig: Morning, Sunshine. Would you like bacon and eggs, or toast? ::She replied with a sleepy laugh, recognising the words. He'd first said them to her back on the Triumphant when she, as a newly promoted JayGee, had dozed off in the torpedo control room after working through the night on the targeting systems. When he sat down next to her to check her work, she had inadvertently curled up to him in her sleep, as though he were her favourite teddy bear. Back then, those words had been said with the express intent of embarrassing her; Walter couldn't be accused of being good with tactile contact, either giving or receiving it. ::Since then, it had become an odd little ritual of theirs, a greeting shared whenever they woke up together after some time apart. She usually got the offered breakfast, too. Today, she thought, she'd go with the bacon and eggs. ::Her train of thought was broken by another kiss on her neck and a murmured question in her ear.:: Brunsig: Gone back to sleep? Reynolds: Just thinking. Brunsig: I've a cure for that. ::She laughed and he grinned, pulling her close and into a kiss that made it explicit exactly what his intentions were.:: ((Hiking Trail, Taidel Woods, Trill)) Reynolds: So… I haven't told Dylan about you and I. Brunsig: I'm surprised, Cupcake. Look at me. This is my surprised face. ::He scowled at her. Of course he did.:: Reynolds: Oh, don't be like that. I just… I wanted to give it, to give *us* a little time. To get used to being us again. ::He didn't answer for a little while, and she didn't push. There was no need and she had no inclination to do so. They had miles to go, and she knew him well enough to know that prodding for an answer would only earn her sarcasm and snark in return. ::Instead, she let herself soak in the surroundings. It was a pleasant day; the sun was peeking through the canopy, casting dappled light across the trees and bushes of the forest floor. The trail underfoot was soft, cushioning their booted feet, and easy enough to follow. And it was quiet, with only the breeze rustling through the leaves and the spirited calls of birds to listen to. It was heavenly, the kind of place she usually only got to visit in a holodeck.:: Brunsig: I'm assuming this means you want to tell him now. Reynolds: I'd like to. But only if you're happy with it. Brunsig: It makes no odds to me. ::She hadn't expected a ringing endorsement -- this was Walter Brunsig she was talking to, after all -- and yet she found that response somehow disappointing.:: Reynolds: Okay. ::His eyes, the colour of the clear sky above the trees, swung away from the path ahead to look at her. Brunsig: Look, Quinn. We're… ::he hesitated, a discomforted frown on his face,:: ...family. A screwed up family, but nevertheless. So I'm fine. It's good. You should tell him. ::She smiled at him, and she was granted one of his rare, fleeting smiles in return. It changed his face, and she felt her heart skip a beat. Funny, the way things went; when they first met, she couldn't stand him. And now here she was, loving him so much that sometimes it hurt.:: Reynolds: I love you. Brunsig: And yet you're usually so smart. ::He smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes, laughing. His fingers intertwined with hers as they continued their walk, hand in hand.:: ((Shuttlebay, USS Gorkon)) ::The next day, he was here. The shuttle door opened, pivoting on its hinge, and Dylan stepped out. She swore he was taller than the last time she'd seen him -- but then, she always did. He'd had a hair cut, which suited him, and he was more tanned than when she'd left. Which, instead of concealing his freckles, had only seemed to birth even more. It was funny how similar mother and son looked -- the both of them with brown hair, slim builds and naturally pale, freckled skin -- given that there was no shared DNA there at all. ::With his bag swinging over his shoulder, he smiled at her and she smiled right back, her heart leaping at the sight of him. He sauntered over, straight into a hug, and didn't even complain when she kissed him hello on the cheek.:: Dylan: Hi Mum. Reynolds: Hey, Pickle. ::He pulled away and frowned at her, evidently finding his childhood nickname entirely inappropriate now that he had reached the grand old age of ten. Then he turned and wrapped his arms around Walter's waist, and an awkward grimace took root on the blond captain's face. But to Quinn's surprise, he returned the hug, scowling at her when she dared to smile about it.:: Dylan: Dad. Brunsig: Offspring. Dylan: Hi. Brunsig: Yes. ::Quinn rolled her eyes, while Dylan grinned as he stepped back; unlike her he was entirely content -- happy, even -- with the monosyllabic exchange. His gaze swung between the two people he considered his parents, and then with the with offhand manner that only children could pull off, he stuck a pin the balloon of apprehension she'd spent the past few days inflating.:: Dylan: So you two are back together, huh? ::She stared at him, her carefully prepared and rehearsed speech out of the window with one throwaway question. Quinn wasn't sure if she was annoyed or relieved.:: Reynolds: Uh… Yes. We are. ::There was a pause as she hesitated, debating whether to ask him how he felt about that, when her eldest child preempted her again, this time with a casual shrug and a nod of approval.:: Dylan: Neat. I'm hungry. Can we eat? ::She stared, wordless, while Walter snorted in undisguised amusement. Jabbing his thumb toward the large shuttlebay doors, he answered the youth's question.:: Brunsig: Come on, Pickle. Let's hit the lounge. ::Eyes twinkling with mirth, Walter shot her a look before starting off, Dylan trotting along beside him. All she could do was shake her head, and follow.::
1 point* I especially loved the description of cats. 🐈 ((Trill, Conservationist Camp, Venar Mountain)) ::Beset upon by a creature with all the fury of a ticked off gopher, Lanta lay on his back being snuffled into a panic attack as the "Graamig" delighted in tasting his rapidly proliferating sweat glands. Attempting to placate, from a safe distance, Jo felt her heart rise up in her throat at the awful connotation that the thing wanted more than just a good investigation of the Trill's jugular.:: Lanta: Pleeeease get it off before it either bites me open or makes love to my face ::screaming loudly until his mouth was filled with the sticky fur of the animal making further sounds incomprehensible:: mummf flummf hmmf ::Neither of which did Jo want to see with her pure and innocent eyes.:: zh’Aella: Could we? ::Jo shot a look to Sera who was in the midst of gripping her axe, making a chopping motion toward the creature. That didn't strike Jo as a particularly good idea, considering the thing was a little more sprightly than any of them, and Lanta had some decent working organs in his upper chest cavity.:: Vahir: Well, you could, but I don’t think Graamig would like it, and if you missed Graamig or she moved, I don’t think Mister Lanta would like it. Marshall: We're working on it, Lanta! Just hold still! Don't secrete any... pheromones if you can help it! zh’Aella: Could one of us distract it, while the others grab it? Maybe pin it to the ground or grab it by the scruff of the neck, like a cat? Vahir: What’s a cat? ::How would one explain a cat to a none-Human without the accompanying billions of archived pictures from twenty-first century Earth?:: Marshall: Small animal with sharp pointy claws. Supreme Overlords of Earth and single people. Managed to domesticate Humans millennia ago. Still worshipped as a deity given corporeal form. ::A long snuffle emanated from the creature, attempting to find out just how much sweat a Trill could produce under pressure.:: Marshall: How about cooing to it? Give it biscuits? Throw a stick, maybe? zh’Aella: Nice Graamig. ::She said it softly, it was meet by a louder snarl.:: Are you a good Graamig? ::She tried in a sing-song voice.:: Vahir: Oh yes, Graamig is very nice, she keeps her pelt nice and sticky. Marshall: With Trill blood? ::That was apparently the wrong thing to say as the loud snarling quietened, a sandpaper tongue darting out from Graamig's snout and taking a decidedly elongated lick up the side of the Trill's neck. ::However, one among them had the gut and experience to deal with the situation. Their Trill Mountain strode past Sera, his palm extending like an opening umbrella and clamped around Graamig's snout, sealing it shut. She squealed as he hauled her off Lanta's chest by the scruff. ::Lanta scrambled back up onto his shaken feet and leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree, gulping down air, eyes darting around, a new lease of life in his system, or so it looked. Jo hid a small chuckle behind her hand. Of course, if that had been her pinned to the floor with a drooling creature trying to make lots of little creatures with her ear, her feelings would have been very different.:: Marshall: You were very nearly papa to some Grammig babies. zh’Aella: Response Lanta: Well ::Panting:: That … was… fun Vahir: Graamig is harmless. Now, had her husband turned up, that would have been a different story. Vardam makes her...well, let's just say it would have been messy, but you would certainly have survived Mister Lanta. Lanta: Not from where i was laying... ::Some of his [...]sure attitude was drawing back.:: Nothing like a brush with death to make you feel alive ::No truer words were spoken. Jo chuckled at the statement, resting her axe on her shoulder.:: Marshall: Is that not your life motto by now? Or a tattoo? zh’Aella: Response Vahir: No, you were never in any danger Mister Lanta! ::He gave a roar of laughter:: Graamig eats the bark off trees, not the necks out of Trills! ::He pinned Graamig under his armpit and held up her front leg, showing off her two inch claws.:: You can tell that Graamig is female as her claws are shorter and fatter. Males claws are much longer, five to six inches, and much more slender. Graamig is local, she has been giving the science lads some trouble. They think they may have accidentally disturbed her nest, and caused Vardam to break up with her, or their equivalent of that. ::He released her leg and exposed the side of her neck, and a long scar.:: He gave her that about a week ago, that was when we found her. ::A frown descended on Jo's brow, and while the creature had given them a total fright in varying magnitudes, that was just a little heartbreaking. She considered petting Graamig but one flash of the sharp pointy teeth made her think otherwise. She appreciated having fingers.:: Lanta: All that over a lovers quarrel? Marshall: Oh dear. You poor thing. Are there no other mates in range? Do they compete? Vahir: Graamig and Vardam are Melg’oona, a species quite common in this region, but highly territorial, so they are the only pair in this area. zh'Aella: Response Lanta: Hope they manage to pair up again after we have moved on ::Vahir lowered the sticky mess of fur and snarls to the forest floor. She gave them a quick growling grumble of derision and scampered back off into the line of trees in a flash.:: Vahir: Now, where were we? Ah yes, the tree! ::Hojen glanced up at the swaying behemoth.:: Mister Lanta, if you have recovered from Graamig’s advances perhaps you would like to strike the final blow as they say. ::Hojen collected a large triangular wedge and a large sledgehammer off the stump of an old tree and passed it to Lanta:: Place that in the uphill cut, then use this hammer to force it in, that will push the tree and cause it to fall away from us. Just be sure you stand off to the side of the tree, in the off chance if kicks out as it goes down. Lanta: Ok who get to shout timber like they used to shout on Earth Marshall: You do; you're finishing it off. Big, loud, puffy chest! zh’Aella: Response ::Lanta nodded and mentally prepared himself to place in the wedge and then deliver the death blow to the huge tree. Placing the wedge into where the huge Trill had indicated he gathered his strength and hit the wedge following through the blow and then quickly stepped to the side.:: Lanta: Timber! ::The shout was loud and clear, echoing into the distance, bouncing off every tree in their vicinity and then some. With a creaking crack of breaking bark, the gigantic tree fell over, taking several smaller trees down with it, smacking into the ground with a dull thud that vibrated through the ground. Birds fled from nearby treetops to the sky to escape.:: Lanta: So can I have some of that tree to start my new hobby of wood carving? ::The Trill's question was hopeful. The tree would be logged up, probably by them, with some going for analysis and other slices going to Trill carpenters. Jo felt a small puff of pride in her chest at the accomplishment, it was a grand sight to see.:: zh’Aella/Vahir: Response ::Some branches were still descending, dropping to the floor with a rustle, but other than the infrequent sound, everything else was silent. The singing birds chirping away had ceased, lending an eerie quality to the forest that it hadn't held before. Jo looked at their team, ready to get on with the rest.:: Marshall: So, what's - ::She didn't get chance to finish the sentence, as a communication device somewhere on Hojen's massive person dinged.:: Bahx: =()= Bahx to Vahir. =()= Vahir: =()= Response? =()= Bahx: =()= Oh, by the body! How-How-How is the team? =()= Vahir: =()= Response? =()= Bahx: =()= Good! Good, good. ::He seemed out of breath.:: Our archaeology team have made it back to camp, sustained some injuries, nothing to worry about, but we are quite concer- =()= ::Again, he was interrupted, only this time the noise doing so wasn't coming down the communication line. It was coming from the forest. A deep, low, guttural grumble that rumbled through the air and vibrated at Jo's stomach lining with vigour. Jo glanced behind her into the green and purple coloured tree lining, trying to discern the nature of the noise, watching some of their felled branches move and it definitely wasn't natural. ::Down the other end of the comm line, Bahx cleared his throat, having heard the same thing they did.:: Bahx: =()= We're concerned the permitter line has failed, so if you could just... make your way back... nice and slowly... Don't try to eat anything! =()= Vahir/zh'Aella/Marshall: Response?
1 point((Mak’Ala City, Res Residence, Front Porch)) ::Emilia stood firmly in front of the pearl white door of her former home. Her hand, balled into a fist, was raised to knock on the lukewarm wood before her, freezing barely centimetres above the pearl white surface. Emilia’s heart practically trembled in her chest.:: oO Deep breaths Emilia Oo ::Taking in a gulp of air, Emilia finally knocked on the door. Feeling as if a weight was lifted off her shoulder, Emilia’s arm retreated to her side. From the other side of a door, resounded a muffled, but loud female voice. Immediately Emilia assumed it was her mother coming to tend to the whoever was at the door.:: ::The door swung open, revealing a tall, trill female, Emilia recognised the woman to be . Her dark hair suspended in a low ponytail. Her head was turned, facing behind her:: B. Res: I’ll be back in a second mother- ::Bisreel’s head moved slowly, locking eyes with Emilia for a split second, only to break the contact with an oddly strong embrace.:: Emilia! ::Bisreel’s suffocating hug caught Emilia by surprise, figuratively giving her a heart attack in the process. Bisreel backed off with a bright smile.:: Krugol: It’s so good to see you! I haven’t spoken to you in so long! B. Res: Everyone’s waiting to see you! Come in! ::Bisreel stepped aside, her hands gripped firmly around the front door. Emilia thanked her and stepped inside, allowing the peculiarly fruity smell of home to invade her nostrils.:: ((Mak’Ala City, Res Residence, Front Hallway)) ::Shortly after the closing of the front door, Bisreel’s body brushed past Emilia, barely touching the warm, tangerine coloured wall. Bisreel’s hand motioned for Emilia to follow, gingerly, Emilia followed behind her eldest sister, somewhat careful not to disturb the peace of the house, with the sound of her heels against the hard, tiled flooring. Three distinct voices echoed through the house, each getting louder with each step the pair took to the kitchen.:: B. Res: You’re a little later than we thought! Good ol’ middle sister started to wonder if you were gonna show up! ::Brushing the comment aside, Emilia chuckled.:: Krugol: Well you know me, Bisreel! Window shopping is a very time consuming hobby. ::Jokingly, she tilted her head upwards.:: B. Res: Yeah, I know, I seem to remember a time where you made your two sisters wait ten minutes while you tried to give yourself another makeover. ::Bisreel chuckled triumphantly, swiftly ending the sisterly exchange.:: ::The tangerine coloured walls passed by the pair of trill as they travelled down the hallway. Countless old pictures and family photos almost entirely covered the walls of the hallway, leaving little room for the technically orange backdrop to shine through, each framed in an old wooden frame. Shining its way through the kitchen, the bright trill sunlight highlighted the almost marble looking tiles beneath their feet. Basking in the colours cast by the walls around her, Emilia smiled joyously, her legs bouncing like springs as she took each step. The familiar family home, seeming to bring out many pleasant memories.:: B.Res: Mother!! We have a visitor ::Bisreel’s thunderous voice caused Emilia to visibly wince. The sheer volume of her sour tone was like a speaker at max volume.:: oO She takes after mother alright. There’s no doubt about that. Oo ((Mak’Ala City, Res Residence, Kitchen)) ::The pair entered the kitchen to the sound of chatter, two Trill women leaned against the marble countertops, one trill, not much taller than Emilia, and the other seemed a little stockier build wise, but also seemed much older in comparison. Their attention shifting to the arriving newcomers, greeting them with two surprised grins.:: A. Res: Emi!! ::Without even a chance to say a word, Emilia was overwhelmed by a suffocating hug. WIthout a second thought, she reciprocated the contact with an equally suffocating hug, squeezing Alu as tightly as possible.:: A. Res: Ouch! Too tight! ::Emilia broke the contact, grinning cheekily at Alu as their mother quickly interjected.:: M. Res: Leave some of her for the rest of us. ::Returning their grins, Emilia quickly made her way to the far side of the kitchen, shielding her eyes from the bright sun that shone through the large window.:: M. Res: I’ve missed you so much dear. ::Miraah wrapped her arm delicately around Emilia, planting a soft kiss on her cheek in the process.:: Krugol: ::Emilia pulled away, continuing on with her smile.:: Is father home? ::Just as their mother was about to open her mouth, Bisreel interjected.:: B. Res: You just missed him, he got a call from the institute. He said it was urgent. ::Upon hearing those words, Emilia’s grin dropped in a hint of disappointment. The one member of her family she perhaps missed the most, seemed as illusive as ever. But nobody could blame him for taking his work seriously, the family knew how much work life meant for a greying man like him.:: M. Res: You three have some catching up to do, why don’t you all go sit down, i’ll get some tea boiling, as well as bring out some food. ::As lovingly as ever, Miraah ushered the sibling out of the kitchen fairly light-heartedly. The three leaving through the short continuation of the hallway, presumably heading to the living room to continue on their catch up session:: _________________________ Ensign Emilia Krugol - USS Gorkon - Security/Tactical officer - G239409EK0 ___________________________