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Jalana

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Everything posted by Jalana

  1. When you click the "Grab the badges here" link in my first post you see the badges. Just click on the right one (the first gold one in your case) and you get to the graphic page, where you can copy paste the file name
  2. The Graphic contest has ended with 8 entries and we want to thank every single one of you for your contributions. All the entries were wonderful and enjoyable. It was a very close race and we wish everyone could win. The judges have come together and the results are in. The winners for the very first Graphic Contest with the theme of "Wintertime and Holidays in Trek-Land" are: Winner for the People category is Ayiana Sevo with her entry "Someone got the gift tags mixed up". Runner up for the People category is Nathaniel Wilmer with his "Klingon Santa". Winner for the Worldbuilding category is Tyler Kelly with his entry "The crew of the Columbia earns a permanent spot on the naughty list..." followed by the Runner up Cascadia Rainier with her entry "When the decorating committee got access to the environmental controls...". Congratulations to all of you! And thank you for everyone who entered. You can grab your badges here. The entries will be displayed on the Wiki very soon and Ayiana and Tyler will receive a message from me with their special IC surprise. A huge thank you also to the judges of the Graphic contest Renos, Tarsii Asmara, Ben Livingston, Tyler Kelly and Siris. We hope that you all enjoyed the contest and the Image Team wishes you all happy Holidays.
  3. The Graphic Contest has ended now! The judges will be consulting and the winners will be announced soon. Thank you everyone for participating.
  4. ((OOC by submitter: The main figures in this post are J'naii and the writers use gender neutral pronouns. For an overview and explanation of those used you can check Renos' Biography: http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Renos)) ((Chief Medical Officer’s Office)) ::The screen flickered onto a dark scene, with only the haunted face of an individual staring forlornly into the camera. Long shadows accentuated the obvious anguish on nir features, and ne took sharp, ragged breaths as if ne had just been chased. After a drawn out pause, where the individual appeared to steel nir nerves, ne started talking:: Nila: I don't know what else to do. I don't know where else to go. I don't even know if this plea will get me safety and relief, or if it will ensure my swift and decisive trip to the psychotectic chambers. And at this point, I'm not even sure it matters either way!:: ::Nir voice hitched in a sob, and it took several seconds for nem to regain composure. Finally, in a wavering tremolo, nir voice continued.:: Nila: It all came to a head yesterday. I was crossing the square's atrium on my way home from work, minding my own business, when somebody jostled me in the crowd. It was hard enough that I dropped my satchel, and a tube of lipstick rolled out and across the cobbles. ::Ne stopped, a pained, faraway look crossing nir face. It was obvious ne was reliving and replaying the event in nir mind.:: Nila: It rolled to a stop against a foot. Of course, it had to be a magistrate's foot! Just my luck! It was as if time had crawled to a stop. Ne stooped, ever so slowly, and gingerly grasped the tube between the tips of nir thumb and forefinger. Ne had held it distastefully as far away from nemself, and let nir incredulous, imperious gaze fall upon me. "Does this belong... to you?!":: ::The small J'naii screwed up nir face in pain, as a tear trickled down nir cheek. Nila shook nir head, as if by doing so ne could shake the acute images from nir memory.:: Nila: ::voice squeaking:: What could I do?? Of course I yelled out, "What are you talking about? I've never seen that before in my life!". I gathered my satchel and ran, ducking and weaving through the crowd. I could hear nem yelling, telling me to stop, but I got away... That one item of makeup cost me half a month's salary on the black market. ::bitter laugh:: Can you believe that even matters to me? I'm only a low-level clerk, so I don't have many credits to spare. My life, my identity is in danger, and still that pops into my mind unbidden. How many credits in contraband makeup did I flush down the reclamator when I got home? Does it even matter?! I don't know!! ::Heaving, gasping breaths as nir manic eyes bore ceaselessly, unseeing, into the camera. It took nearly half a minute this time for nem to start again.:: Nila: I'm told that there are those who can help. That you can help. If this even makes it to somebody useful. I took a huge leap of faith coming here today, all because someone told somebody, who told someone else, who told me that I can get out a message this way. If this is true, then please, I need your help. They all look at me like they know! My coworkers, my neighbors, even the people I pass on the street! They all know! And it's only ::shudder:: a matter of time... they're coming to get me... ::Ne looked rapidly from side to side, seemingly reacting to nothing.:: Nila: Did you hear that!? Is someone there?? ::back to the camera:: I don't know when I can attempt contact again. I'm so scared... This room is within two kilometers of the civic chamber, for goodness' sake! It was foolish for me to come here... ::The recording stopped, the screen going blank.:: :: Renos had squirmed uncomfortably the whole way through watching it and felt really quite distraught because it touched raw nerves or nir own. The fingers of nir right hand hand eneded up getting chewed at the other hand scratched at nir scalp and tagged at nir hair nervously. :: Renos: oO ::Despairingly:: How many more people have to suffer like this? Oo :: Ne had to put down the PADD and step away from it. Maybe the issue seemed magnified to nem because of nir personal experiences and involvement with a particular secretive group but this seemed to be frighteningly common. It was a video ne could just as easily name nemself back when ne was on J’naii because everything in it rang true. :: :: The way ne felt, the cost of expression and the danger it held, the fear of being caught. Ne knew exactly how this poor J’naii trapped on home world felt because ne had felt it before and ne felt it now in watching this and remembering what it was like. Ne felt fairly distressed about it all. :: :: Ne snatched up the red PADD and left the office wearing a stiff expression. Ne stomped down the corridor on autopilot and only when ne approached the turbo lift did ne realise ne needed to select a destination. :: :: Renos knew full well that in the silence and emptiness of nir quarters ne was likely to become increasingly upset as ne thought more and more about the poor anonymous J’naii. Ne knew ne needed to find a way to help. The chief medical officer was acutely aware that ne was only able to live this great life now because ne had received assistance some years ago. First ne was going to need to figure out who had sent this. :: :: For a split second the well-developed sense of paranoia, honed through years or living in fear resurfaced and ne considered that this might be a trap! Ne was a wanted criminal. Wanted for being, in the words of the government – unwell, mentally deficient, unevolved… deviant. Ne had seemed so genuine though…. :: Renos: oO That’s what they want, to sucker you in. Oo :: Ne selected the deck for the Mess Hall hoping that even if ne wasn’t up to eating the bustle would provide a distraction. This kind of message was always hard to take and ne knew that ne needed to calm down and think reasonably or ne would be no help to anyone. Ne was not prone to over emotional reactions on a normal day and ne hated to feel like this all over again. :: Renos: oO Don’t kid yourself that after all these years they still care to look. If I am lucky I am dead to them. Oo ((Mess Hall)) :: Renos realised ne had arrived in the Mess Hall firstly because of the increase in noise and then because ne tripped over someone’s foot and almost fell onto nir knees. While the yellow collared individual apologised for having had her foot stuck out ne wasn’t really listening or interested. It did bring nem out of nir own head for a moment though. Ne replicated a glass of water and went to sit down, preferring to stay away from the more crowded tables and popular areas such as the seating near the viewports. :: :: Most people were here to eat and had plates and bowls atop their trays but Renos didn’t care. Ne wore an expression of deep concern, hugged nir PADD with the left arm and sat staring at the glass, increasingly unaware of nir surroundings. Ne was deep in thought about how ne was going to get a message back to the J’naii and what ne could do to help. Ne almost wished ne was back home, if only because ne wanted to be able to comfort this J’naii in person and give nem a hug and a new lipstick. Ne absently rubbed nir lips together thinking about how easy these things were to come by for nem now. :: :: Every so often a louder noise nearby, like the irritating scraping of a really sharp knife over a plate, or a dropped spoon would catch nir attention and make nem look around and pay attention to the Mess Hall for a bit. Whenever ne thought about the video and the expression ne saw, the emotion in the voice it made nem have to blink back the tears as a wave of emotion hit him. How ne hated nir own people at times. :: --- Lt Cmdr Renos Chief Medical Officer USS Apollo-A and Nila simmed by Ensign Maxwell Traenor Science Officer USS Apollo-A
  5. Happy Birthday!

    1. Nugra

      Nugra

      Thanks! Sorry I missed this. :)

  6. ((Transporter Room 1, Adjacent to Bridge, USS Apollo )) ::The faint, dizzy lurching sensation that Torrin was not sure he would ever grow accustomed to faded quicky, and he materialzed. As his senses returned to him, he saw standing in front of him a human-looking man with short neat dark hair, a clean shaven face, and the uniform of ....:: oO An admiral? Where am I?! Oo :: The man looked with what Torrin could only interpret as disapproval at his state of undress. He was suddenly incredibly self conscious and entirely horrified and humiliated, the realization dawning on him that there had been some kind of mix-up, and right now his husband was meeting with a confused civilian welcome wagon somewhere on the lower decks while he was making their first impression on the commanding officer. He vowed, if he ever saw that little scarecrow again, to murder the boy in coldest of blood.:: :: Chandni Kapoor watched Jaxx turn to look at the man, apparently just as surprised. Since she had sent the coordinates to the shuttle she wanted to make sure that everything was in order and got up, stepping a bit closer, as she crossed the bridge. :: Jaxx: Admiral Andrus Jaxx, commanding officer of the Apollo. And you are? Torrin: I... I am Professor Avaris Edral Torrin sir, I apologies for my appearance sir, we had some trouble with the life support on our runabout, and I was not prepared to be meeting you today... ::The admiral shrugged slightly in a gesture that seemed to say "don't worry about it", but Torrin still clutched the ends of his open dress shirt pulling them close together, wishing he had been wearing some kind of large cloak that he could hide behind completely. The Admiral continued :: Jaxx: Welcome to the Apollo. What is your function aboard the ship? :: Hearing the name Chandni sighed. Of course, that bored - most likely - teenager had mixed up the coordinates, what a surprise. In case the Admiral wanted to know what happened she wanted to be there to explain and approached further, stopping just a few steps behind him. :: Torrin: I apologise Admiral, there must have been a mix up with our transporters, my husband was supposed to report to you, he was recently assigned to the Apollo as a security officer. I am here along with him. ::The admiral looked at him expectantly, as though he expected Torrin to say more :: Torrin: ... as for my function personally on board this ship, I have some ideas about what I would like to do, but I doubt that civilian job postings are the responsibility of an Admiral sir. Neither is providing directions to lost and disheveled new arrivals, but may I impose upon you to point me in the direction of the family quarters? I would like to get.... appropriately dressed before we meet again, if I can avoid dying of humiliation between now and then. :: The commanding officer smiled slightly, and turned to a beautiful tan-skinned woman with long dark hair who was standing slightly behind him:: Jaxx: Ensign Kapoor, can you get him where he needs to be? :: She was not surprised that he knew that she was here. Even if he had not seen her, she thought that he most likely sensed her. Just like her boys sensed when she was around. :: Kapoor: Of course, Sir. ::She gave Jaxx a smile before turning to the other man.:: Please, come with me, Professor. Torrin: oO Well, if that wasn't the greatest first impression, it was at least ... memorable. Artem is going to kill me Oo Thank you. :: Torrin nodded to the Admiral (who he could swear was suppressing a smirk) to the turbolift, which in another twist of humiliating fate, meant leaving the small transporter alcove and being briefly visible to the entire crew present on the bridge. A few of them looked up at him, but whatever was going on in their day was clearly more engaging than the arrival of a disheveled tattooed barbarian claiming to be a professor. Avaris was particularly taken by the image of a fair haired Vulcan woman (no... there was a shadow of forehead ridges, part Romulan probably) who didn't even make eye contact with him, being too engaged in frantic whispers with another crew member and looking as though she might burst into tears at any moment.:: Torrin: oO Whatever they are dealing with must be pretty stressful for my appearance to barely register as unusual. Either that or this crew has seen its share of unusual things. Maybe both. Oo :: Chandni walked with him to the lift and with the luck they had the doors opened right away so they could step in. She waited until the doors closed behind them. :: Kapoor: Deck 38. :: The lift began to sail downward. The ease with which Torrin usually schmoozed with strangers had briefly left him, but she broke the silence first, as he was just beginning to panic about what he should say to start a conversation. :: Kapoor: ::She looked to the Trill.:: I saw in the database that you are coming with your husband? Torrin: Yes, Ensign Dragumov. He just graduated from the academy, this is his first posting as a security officer, I am ... proud of him. oO Yes Torrin... "proud" is a word... Oo Kapoor: ::smiling:: It's nice that you follow him here, long distance is hard when it is not limited to the same planet but the galaxy. Torrin: Yes. I don't think I could go back to that. We met just as the War was beginning, I was still in school on Trill at the time. We did the long-distance thing for 13 years, when I finally graduated and he started his academy training, I think we got married mostly to ensure I COULD follow him on his first assignment, we were so tired of the way it had been. Are you married ? Kapoor: No, not married. But I got two kids, twins and my boyfriend is on board. ::Chuckling:: It sounds silly at this age. ::Torrin smiled broadly at her. He loved talking to people about their kids, and had found being an elementary teacher back on earth surprisingly rewarding.:: Torrin: Twins! How lovely, that is considered very lucky on my world, one of the quirks of our evolutionary background means that they are even rarer for us than for you Humans. And its not silly, not at all! Trust me, this is when life gets good, nobody could pay me to be young again, there is not enough latinum in the universe. ::She looked at him quizzically. He had simply meant that he was approaching 40, but he realized his choice of words might have given her the wrong impression, given just how relative age was to some of his people. She seemed to want to ask just how old he was, relatively speaking, but seemed unsure if there was a polite way to ask. He decided to spare her the embarrassment of trying, at least someone deserved to have themselves spared embarrassment today.:: Torrin: 'Torrin' is a family name, not a symbiont... I am 38 in-case you wanted to ask, but if anybody else asks I'm 29 okay? ::He winked at her in a way he hoped came off as "fun" and not "creepy and gross"... she knew he had a husband, so he gambled that she would know he was not trying to being a leech. It went over well and she smiled prettily up at him:: Kapoor: ::grinning up to him:: So, Professor, what are going to do on board? I don't get the feeling that you are the type to just sit in the quarters all day. Torrin: Well I still do research for my Alma Mater, I am currently writing about convergent evolution for the Xenobiology department, I hope that I will have a chance to do some field research while travelling with the Apollo. Aside from that, I don't know. Are there a lot of civilians on board? Kapoor: Oh yes we have many civilians. Some of them work in the departments in areas that are available to them, others have their own field of work, like our Botanist, the Bar-owner - if he ever opens that bar - or the kindergarten teacher. I'm sure that we can find something for you, there are a lot of possibilities on board. Torrin: Well I have been teaching elementary school for the last four years while Artem was a the academy, do you know how many children are onboard? Are their parents teaching them or is there a school? Perhaps I will drop in with a resume after I get my quarters settled. Kapoor: You have? Ooh, adbhut.. sorry wonderful. We do have a a bunch of children, I cannot give you an exact number without accessing the database. We did had a teacher on the Apollo before this one, but he went back to Earth. Mark O'Donnal is taking care of the children in day care. I'd suggest to talk with him, I can imagine that he would be thankful for some help. Torrin: Thank you, I'll do that. ((Deck 38)) :: Chandni smiled to him and as the doors of the lift opened she let him go first and stepped out after. It was bustling with life and chatter. Here and tere was an officer, most likely the spouse of a civilian, who rushed past them. It was different here than on other parts of the ship. The other hallways were order and work oriented, people made sure not to be in the way and with swift steps went from destination A to B. Here it was like in the alley in a village, most people walking without aim, strolling and suddenly changing directions, standing in the middle of the way for a chat. :: ::The computer announced their arrival on the family deck, and he stepped out of the turbolift into a large, busy hallway. Torrin had no idea that there were quite so many other civilians on board, it was a pleasant surprise to think that he might avoid too much interacting with officers and not have to be too lonely about it. Although so far the officers he had met had all seemed alright... for Starfleet. :: :: The OPS officer was genial and personable, and Torrin was greatly enjoying the brief moment of sanity in an otherwise strange and distressing evening. They had been discussing civilian life onboard the Apollo, and she was proving wonderfully inclined to helpfulness :: Torrin: Is there anything else I should know? Kapoor: Ah yes, since you are new on board you will have to be checked out in sick bay. ::It was not as urgent as with an officer who had to get to duty, but they also could bring anything on board. :: Your luggage should be in your quarters and if you need anything, just let me or someone else in OPS know. ::Torrin's heart sank, but he had known that a medical examination would be in order. He just really did not want to think about it right now, his first priority was to take an extravagantly long solar shower, followed by changing into some clean clothes, followed by at least six other things he had yet to think of before finally relenting and going to the doctors.:: :: Just as he was about to say goodbye to her, an extravagantly dressed, and incredibly loud foppish and ridiculous man with perfectly coiffed pink hair stopped dead in his tracks, looked Torrin up and down, his eyes darting from one ugly aggressive tattoo, to his undershirt, to another ugly aggressive tattoo, to his haphazardly tied up mane of hair, and upon taking it all in, screamed in seemingly genuine horror. :: :: With an abrupt halt the baby blue eyes of the pink haired hologram wandered briefly over the woman, in her terrifying uniform, but stunning long black hair and tanned skin but then remained for a bit longer on the man besides her. That guy was a whole fashion disaster. The only thing that was going well for him were the spots running from his hairline down to his feet. :: Georgio: ::shaking his head he put one hand on his cheek with a distressed expression on his face. :: Oh honey, no. Loreyn Gates or Zumo Hynes can pull ... ::his hand moved from his face and circled the whole man::.. that off but no... ::he scrunched his nose and shook his head:: ... you really need to get out of that and into something ... anything but that! :: Chandni stared at the pink haired man and was so startled by that, that she slipped into her native tongue, and then into a thick Indian accent as she caught herself. :: Kapoor: ::mumbling:: Gaand maraa. ::Shaking her head she looked up to Torrin, who seemed to be rather confused:: Eye dun' know eether :: Torrin looked uncertainly at the pink haired man, and finding himself entirely unprepared to engage with him, turned back to Kapoor.:: Torrin: Okay... well thank you for everything. I hope to be less of a disaster next time we meet. Kapoor: You're fine. Welcome aboard again Professor. :: She smiled reassuringly, and gave him a polite nod before going back to the turbolift. He turned away and walked purposefully across the hall, ignoring the pink haired man as he strode past him towards the quarters assigned to Artem and himself. He heard the strange man calling after him, but was far too exhausted to deal with him. :: Georgio: Wait sweety, you clearly need my help. :: Chandni looked over her shoulder, to see that he had slipped into the Professor's quarters and shook her head. For a moment she thought about going back to ask if he needed help, but then decided against that. She was pretty sure that he was capable to do that himself. So she stepped back into the lift and headed to the bridge. :: (( Quarters Torrin/Dragumov )) :: The doors to the quarters whooshed open, and Torrin sighed heavily, hearing them close behind him and being thankful for a moment of peace. He surveyed the modest room, which apart from some basic furniture was entirely empty. :: ::Before the doors could close, Georgio slipped through them and into the quarters, that were just as boring as the rest of the ship. All this grey and Starfleet blue, they needed a decorator. His eyes wandered from the room to the shoulder of the Trill. :: Georgio: Whoever told you that these tats suit you, was a liar, sweetcheeks. :Torrin whipped around startled. The pink-haired man was standing in his doorway, either unaware that it was generally considered inappropriate to enter a persons quarters uninvited, or (as Torrin considered to be more likely) completely unable to fathom that anybody may not be delighted by his presence. He was exhausted and his temper was never easy for him to control, he nearly roared at the little man:: :: Georgio blinked when the man suddenly jumped around and stared at him. Well Georgio was used to stares, who could not stare at this fabulousness? It looked as if he wanted to say something so the pink haired man waited. :: Torrin: What are you doing in my quarters?! Georgio: ::Waving his index finger in front of the tall man's face and spoke in a singing voice. :: Na na na, no reason to raise our voice. I'm here to help you of course. These ... ::He encircled the tattoos with his finger.:: ... fashion statements will have to be corrected if you want people to not look away when they talk to you, dear. ::The little man spoke as though Torrin had casually asked him what the weather was like on Andor this time of year. Torrin was used to his 'teacher voice' commanding fear, but something seemed to have erased this man's capacity for understanding social signals :: Torrin: They are not a fashion statement, they have meaning to me. Georgio: ::Sighing dramatically, he begin to circle around the Trill, checking him all over.:: Well I don't agree that something this ugly can have meaning but whatever. Then we at least change this nest of hair. Torrin: My hair has meaning to me too. Georgio: Honey, did nobody ever tell you that "has meaning to me" does not mean the same as "is hideous"? :: He finished the assessment round and came to a halt in front of the tall man, looking up. :: ::Torrin decided a change in tact might rid him of the strange little creature, and leaned in close, lowering his voice to a menacing whisper :: Torrin: I earned half of my tattoos in space while serving on an Orion pirate ship. See this one? It means I killed a human captain with my bare hands. The other half came from the maximum security penal colony I just got out of. See this one? Its the symbol of the prison gang I was in. I had to do some terrible things to survive in there, some truly terrible, and quite violent things. I am a dangerous man, you had better run while you can little one. Georgio: :: The Pink haired man smiled widely at the Trill and reached out, patting the man's cheek. :: You're cute when you are trying to intimidate me. ::Torrin threw his hands up in the air. He thought he had been convincing enough. Maybe he had been, and the issue was that this man was as incapable of feeling afraid as we was incapable of understanding that following someone into their quarters to tell them that they looked like a mess was not appropriate. Apparently nothing was going to shake the determined fop :: Torrin: Listen, I promise I do know how to dress myself alright? I promise I wont leave these quarters until I am presentable. :: Georgio: Leave that judgement to the pros, sweetcheeks. Torrin: Now you are just being rude. Georgio: ::waving dismissively:: Just honest, darling. I'll wait, you get ready. Torrin: I just arrived! I haven't had a chance to even shower let alone decorate my quarters. Georgio: Oh decorating, how exciting. Let Georgio do that for you and it will be fabulous. :: Excitedly he clapped into his hands, bouncing up and down, but then realized that something was not right about that plan. :: But... ::He stopped bouncing and made an all including gesture.:: ... to decorate, you first need decoration. Where is it? Torrin: 'Georgio' eh? Well listen up Georgio. All I want is to get washed up, changed into something not soaked through with sweat, and maybe even relax for a few hours. If you ..... ::But what Georgio had said sunk in as he was talking. His quarters truly were empty. They were not simply missing some homey decoration, or in need of some domestic love, they were missing something else. They were missing all of Avaris and Artems' belongings:: Torrin: actually you seem to have a point mister Georgio. I seem to be missing my ... everything. Georgio: Well, you are not missing me, sweetie. That counts for a lot ::smiling widely.:: ::Torrin responded pointedly in an increasingly half-hearted attempt to shake loose of the strange little creature :: Torrin: Yes, the difference is my belongings are supposed to be here. Georgio: ::Again he waved his hand dismissively:: Avaris, sweetie.. same difference. ::He raised on his foot and pushed himself a little with the other, to turn on his toes like a dancer before he put both feet back on the carpet:: So, where did you hide your things? Torrin: I wish I knew mister Georgio. I hadn't thought to hide my belongings, but someone else seems to have helpfully taken it upon themselves to hide them on my behalf. ::The Trill sat down heavily and rather dramatically onto one of the two standard chairs in the quarters main room:: Georgio: ::gasping theatrically:: Oh dear, that is horrible. ::But the next moment he caught himself again and grinned.:: Ah, I have the solution. Of course I do, I am the genius Georgio. ::Torrin was holding his head in his hands, acquiescing to the apparent inescapable truth that this Georgio was not going anywhere :: Torrin: Oh good, I wait with bated breath and whispering humbleness. :: Georgio looked at him as though he had just started barking instead of using actual words:: Torrin: … its Shakespeare. You look human, and seem… theatrical, don't you know Shakespeare? Georgio: ::With quick dancing steps he hurried to the replicator in the wall, raising both his arms towards it like a showgirl pointing out the big prize, completely dismissing the Shakes-whoever comment.:: Tadaaaa, what's your size darling. I'll get you something really nice. It won't be like the real deal, but better than ::waving his hand towards the man:: that. :: As soon as Torrin had seen his luggage was missing, he had feared that he might have to do this. Avaris' physical baggage was missing, but he was never too far from the emotional baggage he carried with him. He had found ways to work around it most of the time, but it manifested in strange and often seemingly nonsensical ways. His mostly-irrational fear of replicated clothing was one of those ways. :: Torrin: Please no. I … I try to avoid wearing replicated clothing actually. Georgio: What? ::smiling widely:: Well that is so much better, not all hope is lost. At least you know to cherish what is good. ::Torrin could not help himself but smile slightly at the misunderstanding. The man clearly thought he was a snob about replicated clothing when the truth was so far from that. He thought back to Irazina and Paxan's trial, sitting in the wings watching the prosecutor parading the conspiracy evidence for the impassive Vulcan Federation judge, and in front of the crowded room. The horror and rage he had felt as the trial revealed the true extent of the Starfleet Intelligence and TSIS surveillance of their little group. :: :: They had been too bold and not suspicious enough, they did not think that they were interesting enough to warrant such invasion of their privacy. They had not yet realized just how important placid unquestioning acceptance of the status quo was to the government of Trill, and to their puppet masters in the Commission and Federation. They had no idea that undercover agents had been their friends, room-mates, fellow organizers and even lovers for the past two years.:: :: And they had not counted on the deviousness and ingenuity of tampering with their local replimat to embed low level proton radiation particles in the clothing they ordered, in order to more easily track their movements. This last, [...]ing piece of evidence had punched a starship-sized hole in his friends otherwise meticulously constructed alibis, and had added the charge of perjury to their already very serious charge of conspiracy. Irazina and Paxan had served 5 years in a Federation penal colony. :: :: And it could have been any of them. They were all sloppy. Avaris and the rest of them had just been extremely lucky, and Avaris had, even now when his movements, were they being monitored, would not be considered particularly interesting, refused to ever trust replicated clothing again. :: Georgio: Then we have only one way to solve this horrifying dilemma. ::Torrin snapped out of his daydream, back away from his depressing past into his increasingly depressing present, too exhausted to argue with this Georgio and just accepting that his day was not going to stop being surprising and uncomfortable.:: Torrin: And what would that be, oh genius? Georgio: Finding your things of course, silly. ::He grinned and in a rather feminine posture of his legs, one leg pulled up slightly in a bend he stretched his arms in a 12 and 3 position waving his jazzhands, as he melodiously raised his voice again. :: Roooooooad triiiiiiip. :: Torrin closed his eyes, steeling himself and taking a deep breath. :: Torrin: Okay. But first may I have your permission to take a quick shower? Georgio: ::grinning he waved dismissively with his hand:: You may, off you go. Torrin: How magnanimous of you. :: Georgio curtsied and dropped himself on the couch, crossed his legs and leaned back, waiting for the Trill to get ready. :: ((Hallway, Apollo Deck 38 )) ::Torrins appearance and mood was improved slightly after his solar shower. He had brought his clothes in with him, which was not an ideal way to launder clothes but was better than nothing, and having rolled down his pants and done up his shirt, and tied his hair back a little more neatly, he felt slightly if not wholly more respectable. He was, in spite of himself, enjoying following Georgio through the sea of people, slightly behind him and observing the reactions he elicited as he gracefully swanned around aimlessly, stopping occasionally to point out any flaw he perceived in the way somebody was dressed. Torrin was not sure how this strategy was conducive to finding his luggage, but reluctantly admitted that he was sort of enjoying himself.:: :: As every road trip had to be, this one was fun as well. Georgio met a lot of people and got to help them with some fashion and hairstyling advice. Here and there he even did the good deed of offering make overs. All over it was a success and he felt great for helping so many unfortunate people. :: ::Torrin noticed that whatever the little man said, people tended to be too shocked to respond to him, leaving him free to waltz over to the next person he saw desperately in need of style advice. Torrin occasionally saw anger in peoples expression, but Georgio critiques were like being struck by lightning on a cloudless sunny day, it was fast, unexpected, and he was gone too quickly to really respond.:: :: Georgio just spotted a green skinned woman with bulky clothing, a ponytail that came out of the back of a cap and who was talking with someone over the comm. But since the other person was talking right now he saw his chance and stepped closer.:: Georgio: Sweetie, you obviously need my help. These clothes are way too masculine for your pretty frame. :: She did not even look at him, not a single word came from her towards him, but he felt the extended arm hit his chest and push him aside before she stomped away still talking to the other person, though he did not really listen to what she said, it was not important anyway. He landed against a wall and slid down onto his butt. :: ::Torrin missed exactly what it was Georgio had said to her, but without a second of hesitation, she snarled and violently shoved him out of the way. Torrin felt inexplicably responsible for the strange little man, in spite of the fact that the strange little man seemed to be in charge of this road trip, and ran up to him. :: Torrin: Georgio! Are you alright? ::Georgio seemed not only to be alright, but also to not be in any way, physically or emotionally, affected by what had just happened :: :: The pink haired man laughed and without any problems got up to his feet again, looking after the hurricane. :: Georgio: Always wondered what it means to be hit by a shuttle, must have been like that. :: He grinned widely to Torrin and sorted his clothing, to make sure he looked as immaculate as ever. :: ::Torrin turned to the where the violent Orion woman had stopped, still growling into her comm badge, about to scold her for throwing people around a crowded hallway, when he heard WHAT it was she was growling. She was growling to OPPS about strange luggage materializing in her arboretum, and that it was still there when she had specifically asked for it to be gone..:: Sherana: =/\= I have told you to get rid of that luggage in my Arboretum until I am back. Guess what happened? =/\= Ops: =/\= What luggage, Ma'am? =/\= Sherana: =/\= What lu... =/\= :: She growled in frustration and began to pace, which lead her on the hallway. =/\= The luggage that someone beamed into my Arboretum. =/\= Ops: =/\= Have you notified us before about that luggage, Ma'am. =/\= Sherana: =/\= You did not just ask that. What did I say a minute ago? =/\= Ops: =/\= Please, Ma'am, stay calm. We are doing what we can. =/\= Sherana: =/\= Obviously you are unable to move luggage from one point to the other then. =/\= Ops: =/\= We will send someone to get it. =/\= Sherana: =/\= Don't bother. I will move it, and attach a note that any damage is your responsibility. =/\= Ops: =/\= Ma'am, I will send someone right now. =/\= Sherana: ::growling:: =/\= Sure, now you do. Sherana out. =/\= Torrin: Mister Georgio, remind me never to question your genius again. Now… which of us is going to talk too her? Georgio: About time you see my genius. ::Grinning he continued:: Oh let me talk to her again, that was a fun ride. Torrin: I know.. but you seem rather durable. How did you not break your arm being thrown like that? Georgio: I just don't break. I'm Georgio. Let me get to talk to that little whirlwind. ::He already started to walk towards when Torrin held him back. :: Torrin: WAIT nevermind, Ill talk to her, you just … maybee let me do the talking. :: Georgio shrugged, watching (quietly, for the first time since Torrin had encountered him) as he hesitantly approached the Orion woman. He cleared his throat to get her attention. She angrily snapped around, fire in her black eyes and a snarling, wolf-like expression on her face. Torrin racked his brain to remember if throat-clearing was a grave insult in Orion culture, and being unable to recall any such information, presumed that this particular Orion was just a generally angry kind of person.:: :: In her whole time Sherana had been on board she had her emotions really well under control. But since not only Tal but also Porus had left the ship, it seemed that little things like that just brushed her the wrong way. She would have to get some training and meditation later to balance herself again. When someone cleared his throat behind her she twirled around and raised her furiously gleaming eyes upwards to the man. :: Sherana: ::snapping:: What? Torrin: I do apologies miss, but I couldn't help but overhear that you seem to have stumbled upon some mysterious luggage? Sherana: ::crossing her arms in front of her chest:: So you always listen to conversations that are none of your business? ::Torrin was not in the mood to indulge a grown woman's temper tantrum, but reminded himself that in spite of his size, he was older, out of fighting practice, a bit out of shape, and likely no match for this woman. He tried to reign in the impulse to respond sarcastically and was sure the effort he was making was distressingly obvious. :: Torrin: I apologies for contradicting you and mean no disrespect, but I do in fact think your conversation IS my business. Sherana: Oh really? ::She did not sound like she believed him:: And what do you think makes it your business? Torrin: Well you see, my husband and I have just arrived on the Apollo, and one of the several unfortunate mix-ups has been that our luggage was beamed aboard, in error, to a mysterious location we are unaware of. Sherana: ::The thought of getting rid of that stuff sounded very tempting, even if whoever got it was not the owner.:: So you dropped that in the middle of my work place? :: And just like that, the facade of friendly, mild mannered and patient understanding that Torrin put a great deal of effort into projecting during his day-to-day life came crumbling away. The intolerable shuttle ride, the fighting with Artem, the embarrassment of meeting the Admiral in a state of undress, the apparently unshakable little pink haired elfs critiques, and now an Orion woman being needlessly hostile all was just too much to keep it up. Torrin finally snapped.:: Torrin: Am I speaking Ferengi or are you just not listening ? I get that you might be having a rough day, but you really don't want to try my patience right now. I said that my luggage was misplaced by some miscreant cadets when they beamed it aboard, trust me if I could have avoided this unpleasant conversation I would have loved to but as it stands I believe my belongings are in your arboretum and would be SO very greatful if you could maybe take a deep breath and relax and take me there so I can get it off your hands. Do you think you can manage to calm down and do that, or should I call for a medic to treat your impending rage blackout? :: Sherana was amused. It did not happen that someone stood up to her like that without knowing of her past, knowing that she was a Klingon Warrior. Most people seemed to think that she was a small weak woman who should not be spoken down to, or raised their voice to. This man had gained some respect from her with that little blow up of his. Her eyes sparked, though that 'smile' never reached her lips, although it tugged faintly at the corner. :: :: Torrin was just starting to feel relieved that this interminable series of disasters would finally conclude, when Georgio broke his record streak of being quiet and causing no trouble, and interjected into the conversation. :: :: Since they had gotten to that point, and only watching was rather boring for Georgio, especially since she did not give him the same fun treatment as well, he decided to join them again. :: Georgio: I always thought Orions are sensual and very friendly. Must be that outfit, are they forcing you to wear those too, like those uniforms, sweetheart? It's dreadful! :: Sherana's eyes snapped to the other, loud and very colourful man. She felt the rolling snarl in her throat before it even sounded in her ears.:: Sherana: Be careful what you say, paleskin. Georgio: Oh darling, I know what I'm saying, you clearly need some help with your ... :: The woman snarled at Georgio, and Torrin was certain that he was going to get that second ride across the hall into the bulkhead that the clearly deranged little man had said he was hoping for.:: Torrin: Georgio, could you please give us a moment here. We were just getting to the point where... ::The Trill looked at her inquisitively, leaving an opening in the conversation for her to identify her name. She stared at him impassively, either not following, or not interested in introducing herself. Torrin sighed :: Torrin: ... this charming young lady was going to take us to her arboretum so that we might relieve her of my burdensome belongings. Isn't that so? Sherana: ::Pulling her eyes back to the tall Trill she took a moment to calm herself and nodded.:: It is in the Arboretum. This way. :: With that she turned on her heel and walked with brisk steps along the hallway, her boots sounding heavy on the carpet, as her ponytail bounced on the back of her thick bulky sweater. She heard a whisper behind her, but not what was said, but did not care about it anyway.:: :: As she headed off, Georgio followed them both and with quick, hip swaying steps he was at Torrins side. :: Georgio: ::whispering:: You know that she will need my help, these things make her look like a man. She could be so pretty with the right accessories. Torrin: She does not seem interested Georgio. Not everyone cares so much about being stylish. ::The look of sheer horror at the thought was priceless. Torrin could actually see the moment where Georgio realized that the issue was not always that people didn't know how to be stylish, but that, vulgarly enough, they might simply not care to be. Torrin could not help but smile at the mans expression of sheer disgust, but before he could say anything further, they arrived at the arboretum. The Orion woman pointed at the large pile of cases and containers (no wonder she was upset, it looked like they had damaged more than one of her exotic plants.... Torrin regretted snapping back at her as he could see her anger was more than justified, if misplaced in his direction):: :: Just a few moments later they were at the entrance of the Arboretum and the angry lady pointed in the direction of the piled up luggage. :: Sherana. There. Even if it is not yours, you can have it. Georgio: Now wouldn't that be fun! Grabbing random belongings and make a fashion show! ::he grinned widely:: :: Was this guy for real? Sherana stared at him in disbelief. That was his understanding of fun? She would never understood humans. :: ::Torrin looked at Georgio with an expression of utter disbelief, still not really sure of what to make of the little man. He turned his attention back to the Orion :: Torrin: Well fortunately for me, this is in fact my luggage. Unfortunately for Georgio, that means no surprise fashion show. Now, if I could just ... ::Torrin approached her, and tapped her comm badge. She seemed shocked and angry at the invasion of her space, much to his satisfaction. He leaned in close to the badge, not really knowing how the device worked, and how close he had to be to it for his voice to be picked up :: :: Sherana looked at him in terror as he approached and reached out to her to tap the badge on her chest. It was even worse when he remained way too close for her comfort, as if he had never seen or used a comm badge before and thought he'd have to speak right into it. :: Torrin: Hello? Ops? =/\= ...OPS here? Who is speaking? =/\= Torrin : =/\= I am Professor Avaris Torrin, and I was rather hoping you might assist me in transporting my luggage into my quarters and out of your charming and lovely botanists way =/\= =/\= Ah yes the containers Sherana was telling us about. So sorry about the mix up professor, we will get those where they belong immediately =/\= Torrin: =/\= Thank you.... ::he was not quite sure how to end a conversation via comm badge :: ... um... bye then. =/\= :: Sherana had kept a close eye on the man, alert in case he was doing anything stupid. And met his case as he looked at her. Now that the call was done she took a step back to get her personal space back. :: Torrin: Sherana eh? Thats a lovely name. Thank you ever so much for all of your help. Sherana: ::nodding:: Pleasure, Mister Torrin. ::She only graced the pink haired man with a brief look before she turned and grabbed her watering can off the ground, to bring it back into the tool room. At least she was getting rid of that luggage. And she had been intrigued by that Trill and his way to handle her. It was quite a surprise to her, but it indeed had been a pleasure. :: :: Georgio had pouted as he had heard that the luggage was indeed Torrin's and had watched the Trill for a moment as he walked to that rude woman and tapped her badge. He chuckled as she obviously wanted to get away from the Trill because he had come too close. Georgio in the meantime had walked to the luggage and took a look at it. He could not say if it was because it had landed in the dirt or if it was just old, but there were some scratches and abrasions on the material. He was curious to see what was inside, but he did not know the code, and while he could have done that, he did not want to hack in it. Way too much work just to see what he would see in a bit anyway. :: Torrin: And thank you for all of your help mister Georgio. I wont take up anymore of your time, you surely have other things demanding your attention. ::Hearing his name he looked up, standing bent over the luggage to take a look at the damage, raising his finely shaped pink brows in surprise.:: Georgio: Taking up my time? Honey, I still think you need my help. ::Torrin felt strangely sorry for the man. He seemed to be just wandering about the ship aimlessly, and although he seemed happy about it, Torrin could not help but wonder who this guy was and what he was doing on the Apollo. He wanted nothing more than to light some candles, replicate a stiff drink, and put his feet up... but the man looked so crestfallen at being dismissed, and Torrin DID have to unpack still. Sighing, and against his better judgement, he spoke to the man again :: Torrin: Well, if you are free for a little while more, I suppose I could use help unpacking? Georgio: ::grinning widely he straightened his back.:: I knew you would see that you'll need my help. After that we're going to take care about you. Torrin: That is not going to happen. :: When Torrin started walking, he quickly followed staying at the Trill's side. He would not give up, not that easily... or ever. :: Georgio: But darling you really need to. Your hair is too long and I need to see what you have in these containers. Torrin: No haircuts and no fashion shows. Don't make me regret inviting you over. Georgio: ::Sighing dramatically:: You can't take me with you and let me do *nothing*, darling. ::He talked while he moved his hands in grande gestures, as if he was on stage.:: Torrin: Fine. If we have time you can trim the split ends. But no more than half an inch okay? Georgio: ::He immediately stopped with the show and grinned widely, placing his hands on his hips:: A good start. About a new colour? Something fresh and bright to bring out these cheek bones of yours ... Torrin: I'll stick with my natural colour thanks. I don't think I have to necessary ... pizzaz to pull it off like you. Georgio: ::Grinning:: Not everyone can be Georgio, honey, but you can be... :: he threw one hand in the air, throwing his head back:: ... fabulous! Torrin: Im not really going for ::he waved his hands around in his best approximation of an impression of Georgio:: 'Fabulous'. Georgio: ::shaking his head he hooked his arm with Torrin's:: But don't you know, sweetcheeks? ::Torrin sighed heavily.:: Torrin: Know what, Mister Georgio? Georgio: That everyone is fabulous. Torrin: Trust me, not everyone. Some of us are content with being frumpy curmudgeons actually. Georgio: ::grinning:: That is because some people hide it inside and they need someone like... no they need *me* to help them to bring it out. Torrin: Your generous spirit is truly an inspiration to us all. ::Apparently sarcasm was as foreign a concept to Georgio as "dont bother people who are angrily yelling at someone" because he just beamed up at him, still holding onto his arm. (( Quarters Torrin/Dragumov )) :: As they entered, the Luggage that had been in the Arboretum just a little before, had finally found its way to where it belonged. Georgio let go of Torrin's arm and with a light jump turned and sat on one of the boxes, wiggling his legs and fidgeting on his new seat. :: Georgio: So, where do we start? ::Torrin looked urgently about, and found the crate he was determined to open first:: Torrin: This, Mister Georgio, is where we start. :: Georgio watched Avaris when he began to look around and searched obviously for something. He had found it rather quickly and opened a crate. Curiously Georgio leaned forward to peek under the lid before it was lifted. :: ::Torrin brandished the bottle of Saurian Brandy, almost reaching a level of theatricality on par with the pink haired sprite:: Torrin: Could I interest you in a glass? Georgio: ::Raising his hands:: I'm good, thanks. :: He did not drink... or eat.. or even breath for that matter. Of course Torrin did not know that yet, but Georgio did not even think about that. He did not feel like a hologram. On the other hand he did not kno whow it was to feel human, he just felt like ... himself. :: :: Torrin's immediate thought was that of course the little man didn't drink, he probably only ate steamed Andorian Kale in-between hours upon hours spent at the gym. Torrin was passingly familiar, through acquaintances and ex partners of Artem, with men of his type (it was common to be preoccupied with fashion and physical fitness amongst human men who were attracted to other men, as he assumed Georgio was), but had always seen their smaller subculture as a culture even more strange and alien to him than even the mainstream culture of Earth. He had certainly never gotten close to any man like that, they just didn't get him. In his youth he had been very concerned with presenting as scruffy and barbaric an appearance as possible, his first rebellion against the generally clean cut and elegant profile his people were known for. This attitude, even as he grew did not entirely leave him, and delighted in the horror Artem's male friends had tried desperately not to show on their faces when he had first brought Avaris for a visit to Earth. :: Torrin: Suit yourself. ::He replicated himself a tumbler glass, and poured a great deal of the drink without bothering to measure it. When he turned around, he saw that Georgio had already opened three crates and was studiously regarding every article of clothing he picked up before throwing it behind him :: :: When Torrin headed to the Replicator Georgio bounced off the container and begann to open some lids, grinning when he saw that he had found the ones with the clothes and began to pull out one piece after the other. Looking at them, he made a face, scrunched his nose and threw it behind him on the ground, before taking the next one. :: Torrin: Well I see you don't wasting time Georgio: Of course not, you cannot run around like that forever. ::He extended his hand and waved all over him, without looking at the Trill.:: You have some really beautiful pieces, though they look pretty patched up. You poor thing are not getting new things often, hm? Torrin: I told you I dont do replicated clothing, so of course I need to repair small wear and tear every so often. :: The little man had a point though. Torrins wardrobe was a beautiful collection of sumptuous fabric and top-notch tailoring. With clothing easily replicated by most people, the only vendors of handmade clothing were quite serious about it, and it was impossible to not look good in well made clothes. But his wardrobe was old, he hadnt bought new pieces in nearly two years, and he had made repairs enough time that the effect was glamorous from far away, but a little rough around the edges up close :: Georgio: Looks like you need a crash course in needlework, sweetheart. ::With that he threw the next piece behind him.:: It's a crime to ruin these wonderful fabrics with that. ::Torrin was a little bit shocked, it sounded like Georgio was talking about actual needles and thread, not the usual handheld sewing implement used in modern clothing manufacture and repair. Certainly needles and thread were easier to control and left a tidier finish, but it took lots of practice to master and most people didn't bother. Besides, there was a part of him that liked the ruggedness of his repair work, it made the clothes seem less pretentious. :: Torrin: Well I suppose I could not expect you to simply compliment my taste in clothing without sneaking in a suggestion for improvement. Ill just pretend you left it at the part where you were admiring my style. Georgio: Oh yes, yes. You certainly have style, sugar. Quite exquisite. Ever thought about using the holodeck programs to make yourself a tailor? ::Torrin did not quite understand what Georgio was saying:: Torrin: Would that not just be like, personifying a replicator? That seems even sillier than refusing to wear replicated clothing. Georgio: Oh honey, not for the clothes. For the sewing. Or is using replicated yarn also against your rules? ::Something about the suggestion was deeply troubling to Torrin. He was uneasy about artificial people, uncertain of the ethical ramifications of programming what essentially had the potential to be considered a person (as holograms had been proven to over the past decade) to perform menial labour. He had a talent for finding ethical dilemmas where everyone else seemed to just enjoy life and their privileges (such as possessing technology that allowed them to do this) and constantly had trouble expressing himself to others without sounding preachy and ridiculous, and so just fumbling for something to say replied :: Torrin: I don't know, that might work. I sometimes find the holodeck a bit creepy though, you know? ::Georgio's eyes narrowed in the first expression of anything other than spritely enthusiasm Torrin had seen on the man. But the brief expression of annoyance was fleeting, and he was back to a manic whirlwind almost instantly :: Georgio: Well either that, or learn it yourself. I'm not ruining my dainty fingers with needles. ::Smirking at him:: Torrin: Yes we couldn't have that. Georgio: ::Raising the lid from another container:: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh ::He squealed in delight:: Decoration! ::Torrin laughed. How was this person for real?:: Torrin: Those 'decorations' are fascinating objects called "books" actually. They are used for reading, from before PADDs were invented. Georgio: ::He reached into the container and pulled out a few pieces.:: Marvellous. ::Turning around himself:: Now... where .. to.. put that. :: With every word he rotated another time just to then walk in one direction and place it on a side table. He stepped back a little shook his head and stepped closer again, moving it an inch and grinned pleased before he walked into the other direction to find a place for the other piece. :: Torrin: Yes I suppose that one does look good there, although it is more usual to place them on shelves. Georgio: ::waving his hand dismissively:: Usual is boring, change it up and make it your own. Torrin: You are right. Who wants to be ordinary. :: Georgio grinned at him, almost proud that the Trill got his point, and continued to decorate the place with all the things he could find in the containers. While he was sure that he could easily place the decor all by himself, with this being Avaris' quarter, Georgio had to listen to his ideas of course. Sometimes they discussed the placement, several times Georgio won, but at times Avaris put his foot down and Georgio gave in. It took a little while that they went through the containers, and Avaris seemed to enjoy to empty his glass a couple of times. Georgio did not really understood that kind of pleasure, not because he was a mean man, he just was unable to experience it or anything like that. :: :: The two of them continued unpacking, and Torrin continued drinking. He was a third through the bottle before he realized that he should probably kick the little guy out before he started to get mean. Friendly sarcasm was one thing, but alcohol induced mean-spiritedness was quite different, and Torrin was frequently ashamed of the things he said to people when he had too much. :: Torrin: Well Mister Georgio, it has been a pleasure, but I really must have a rest now, it has been a very long 24 hours, and I need to rest before going to visit the school and convincing them to employ me. Georgio: Oh how exciting. You show them your fabulousness and they won't be able to say no! ::He then tilted his head.:: But we did not get to cut your hair yet, you are not trying to trick me to get out it, aren't you darling? ::He spoke with the kind of voice that mothers used to perfect over hundreds and thousands of years, when it came to their children attempting to get out of things they did not want to do. :: Torrin: I am not trying to get out of anything, I promise you can trim my hair tomorrow. Besides, it would be lovely to get together again, I have somehow seemed to start enjoying your company ::he paused, worried that he had already started to get feistier than was entirely appropriately, and added ::… its nice to have a friend on thhe ship. Do you have time in your day for a hair appointment mister Georgio? :: This strange Trill saw him as a friend? That was a fascinating thing to hear, he had never had a friend. What exactly was a friend even? Maybe this was something to explore, as his programming only went so far. Experiencing could be interesting, it was something new, maybe it even fit into his shiny glittery world. But for now he focused on the really important part of what Torrin had said. :: Georgio: Honey, I *always* have time for a hair appointment. ::Smiling widely:: Torrin: Wonderful. Meet me here at 1830 tomorrow then. :: Georgio nodded and grinned, he would get that hair chopped off... even if only an inch. There was no way around it. He might have only been a holodeck program, but Torrin wasn't and he had promised. :: Georgio: Marvellous. I see you tomorrow then. Toodledoo! :: Georgio waved his fingers, like he was spreading glitter on the rug and left the quarters, already curious where his travels would lead him next. :: ::As the strange man left, Torrin found himself smiling. It was rather nice to have already met a friend on the ship, even if it was an unlikely friend.:: ---- Avaris Edral Torrin, PhD Civilian USS Apollo - A & PNPC Georgio Emergency Holographic Hairstylist (And self declared Fashion Police) USS Apollo - A simmed by LtCmdr Akeelah D'Sena First Officer USS Apollo-A Image Team Facilitator
  7. Oh I am not underestimating the craftiness But I am not sure how to 'judge' these things. I can judge the use of graphic tools, but have no idea about crochet or sewing to judge it. That is a different kind of creative process. If someone can manage to include their crafty things in an actual Graphic Image, I'd be curious to see that.
  8. Photography can be part of the images, yes, as long as you manage to keep it Star Trek I'm not sure how sewing and embroidery can be turned into a Star Trek image, but if you want to demonstrate that, feel free to do so The two things to remember are "Keep it Star Trek" and it is a Graphic Contest.
  9. We are proud to present you the "Starbase 118: Graphic contest". In this contest we recognize the amazingly talented artists we have among our membership. If you like to be artistic at any level, join in the fun. The theme of this every first contest will be "Wintertime and Holidays in Trek-Land"! Now that can be anything, let your imagination run wild. SUBMISSION GUIDELINES The theme must be included, it's part of the challengeThe submitted work has to be done by you.Any kind of graphic style is allowed. You can paint, use 3D renders, mix different source images etc. as long as the final work is completely yours.Everyone can submit one imageThe image must be within the Star Trek Universe, how you show that is on you.Please add your name (your primary character which we identify you with) in the lower corner as a signatureImage size: At least 600*450 pixel but not bigger than 675*900 pixel and staying in these proportions (either horizontal or vertical, by your choice)Submission deadline is December 15th 2014To submit the image, start a new thread in this contest forum, that way we do not have to dig for it Now of course you might wonder what you have from all this, apart from a lot of fun and being able to show off your artistic side. The winner and runner up will receive a badge for his forum signature/Wiki pageThe winner will be announced in the news on the websiteWe will build a gallery page of all entries with special featuring of the winnersAnd the winner will also receive an IC surprise, which we don't want to spoil.Yes, you read that right, winners - plural. To include everyone, we differ between two categories: People: creation of characters, aliens, merging of people with backgrounds, scenes etc.World-building: creation of planets, landscapes, ships, galaxy scenes, technology etc.Each category will have its own winner! Eager to get started? Your mind full of images that want out? Well then ready, set, GO! If you have any questions, please post them here. Who knows, someone else might have the same.
  10. Congratulations Nate, Leeland and Della. It is well deserved There have been some really great stories and I was excited to read them and how you brought the theme to life. Such a fantastic round
  11. Hi Ricky and welcome to SB118! Happy you found your way here and hope that you'll have just as much as we have (oh yes totally the royal we lol - kidding).
  12. ((Lt. Cmdr Luna Walker's quarters, USS Apollo A)) :: The pink haired woman thrashed on the bed, having sobbed herself into an unwilling doze. The pressure and pain of the last few weeks pulling her down into unconsciousness, shackling her to her fears. Her body told the tale, low moans of denial mixed with a thrashing that weren't quite sufficient to pull her from the nightmare. :: ((Nightmare-scape)) :: Luna looked around with panic in her eyes. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly enough that even her vulcanoid heritage wouldn't free her. It didn't stop her from struggling, she'd gotten out of tougher spots than this... Finally, exhausted, she looked around the room. It smelled harshly of cleaning fluids, with tile on the floor and a drain in the center. She closed her eyes and refused to imagine what would flow down that drain, and struggled again against her bonds but to no avail. She noticed a Tal'Shiar officer walk into the room. The uniform, attitude and cursed ring on his hand. She pulled more against her bonds in sudden fear. :: Faceless Tal'Shair: :: Applauding slowly:: Yes, quite good Lluneh, struggle as fiercely as you should. I can promise you, that it will only get worse from here. :: She felt a spike of fear and dread as she faced him, but licked her lips and tried to play it off as nothing. :: Walker: Well I have to say, this is the worst day spa I've ever been to. I mean the conditions here are app...OW! :: Despite her attitude, or because of it, the romulan had moved forward to slap her hard enough to make her teeth rattle. :: Faceless Tal'Shair: Child, I feel I should explain something. And I'll use small words. :: She started to speak, to tell him off, but he raised his fist to hit her again... and she couldn't. She tried.. she tried mouthing off in any of the ways she knew.. but the fear overwhelmed her. All that happened was her cringing away from the blow and mewling in fear. His smile was darkly pleased, and instead he patted her on the cheek.. making her flesh crawl as she found herself grateful that he'd not hit her. :: Faceless Tal'Shair: Good.. even a mongrel like you can be taught her place. Now, I'm sure you are thinking that you only have to hold out for awhile. That in not too long at all.. someone from Starfleet is going to break down that door and save you. :: He smiled, and turned to watch the door. :: Any minute now... Oh.. that's odd... it looks like no one is coming after all. :: Something in her snapped. The fear, the self loathing, all formed a perfect focus for her. She pulled her arm free, ignoring the pop as bones in her hand disjointed with the effort and slammed her fist into the Tal'Shiar's face. He fell without a sound, and she quickly untied herself. She was free! In moments she was running to and through the door... :: :: The room she ran into was a mirror of the one she'd left... down to the broken strap.. turning.. there was no longer a door there.. only a wall. When the faceless Tal'Shair came into the room.. she felt the strength go out of her legs.. dropping her to the floor. :: Faceless Tal'Shair: There's no where to go Lluneh.. no scenario you can break free. No one who knows where to find you even if they cared to do so. The only question is... how much pain do I get to give you before you get back into your chair? :: It was too much... too much to take.. no way out.. no way... The Tal'Shiar loosened the whip at his side, a neural whip.. enough to flay her nerves raw without ever hurting her flesh. It sparked as it activated.. and almost of it's own volition.. her body moved toward the chair. :: Faceless Tal'Shair: Good girl Lluneh. And just think.. if not for you.. I wouldn't be here. We are going to have such a very long talk won't we. :: Suddenly she could see his face... her brother's face. It was twisted with an evil energy and intent.. She squirmed back in the chair.. shaking her head in denial. :: Luna Walker: No.. no no no no no! Not you.. can't be.. you wouldn't.. couldn't... it's.. it's NOT POSSIBLE!! :: A sardonic smile crossed his lips, a dark look of amusement that she'd never before have imagined on his face. :: Ben Walker: Oh but it is little Lluneh, and all thanks to you. I went down to rescue you.. and you.. :: he paused.. as if puzzled:: you.. did nothing and left me behind. :: He laughed, sending chills up her spine. : But that's not all is it? You also lost Kali.. who is the only person who you might have convinced to come after me... and then lost your ship! And best yet.. when it happened again.. when an Admiral was in a position you could stop his death... you failed. No wonder you were given to us. :: A look of horror and loss flowed over her features, her bonds going slack beneath her. :: Luna Walker: What...what did you say? :: He smiled jovially, as if two close friends sharing something far too humorous to contain:: Ben Walker: You don't remember? Starfleet GAVE you to us. They said you were less of a threat to them with us, then with them. Now, enough reminiscing... let's get started shall we? :: She didn't even feel the first lash of the whip, but screamed anyway. Screamed in fear and confusion and loss. :: ((Luna's quarters, USS Apollo-A)) :: Her own scream woke her, not fully..but enough to recognize she was trapped. She pulled and tore the blankets before launching herself across the room, crashing into a table. She couldn't stop screaming.. the nightmare too real.. too visceral to deny. Long moments passed as she pulled herself back together, recognizing the nightmare for what it was. Licking her lips, she focused.. calming herself.. yes. she'd been captured and tortured by the Tal'Shiar.. but not by Ben. He'd asked to be left behind with them... not been abandoned. And she was at least mostly sure that Admiral Jaxx's death wouldn't be at her feet. She'd tried everything within the regs.. and a bit beyond.. hadn't she? :: ~fin for now.. Lt. Cmdr Luna Walker Mad Queen of Quarters USS Apollo-A
  13. Happy we were of help! And don't worry. It is awesome that you are full of enthusiasm! Always feel free to ask
  14. Yes that answers the questions, though Player chars (no matter if PNPC, PC or Mock Cadet) won't be played like NPCs by Academy Class Leaders or CO/FO on ships They are all played purely by the character's writer But NPCs can be played by everyone.
  15. Hi Leland! First thank you for your suggestion It does indeed happen that there are a lot of cadets at once, but that will help you later on a ship as there are usually 11-13 or so players that write themselves and sometimes even so called PNPCs (Personal NPCs). But the speed might vary from ship to ship and in contrast to the Academy class. Mock Cadets often make themselves known (I know I do) but I am not sure what you mean with "using them a bit more freely in terms of moving the dramatic tension forward", since that is what everyone can do, as the story is written by everyone in same parts That is why we call it cooperative writing. So you should not be afraid to step on anyone's toes. Keep your duty post in mind when you post if you are not sure about the toe stepping, so you can for example leave something in your idea for a department that deals with such things, that way you can include include the other players, so that everyone in the class can write your ideas with you And don't worry, you do not have to be perfect, and you will still continue to learn on a ship. It will become easier in time. I hope I could help you a little with this.
  16. There has been so much of TNG that has affected me. It was the very first Star Trek I saw when I was 8. It was first airing at that time and I remember running home from school to not miss it - homework had to wait. I was fixed from the first episode, even if I did not understand everything. There are several choices in that list up there that were super hard to choose from, but Darmok had taught me so much that despite language barriers and differences, that we can understand and be sympathetic towards each other. That has inspired my since the first time seeing that episode and also brought me towards trying to understand others and looking at things from their side and not to forget working together, even if the other person is a stranger with different views. But it is really hard to choose any particular, since almost everything in TNG has shaped the woman I am now. Sounds cheesy, but it's true.
  17. Anyone of you seen this? I can't wait to get playing
  18. I do not know what you are talking about, sweetcheeks, but being fabulous is the greatest purpose there is!
  19. Darn Raissa, you found us out. Spotties, we need a new plan! And welcome Ayiana, from one spotty to another
  20. I think apart from the Merry Man and the Prune Juice I have two favourites. One of them is when Picard, Guinan, Ro and Keiko are kids due to the anomaly (Rascals). And another one is when Data's 'daughter' Lal tries to catch the ball Wesley throws her, or she kisses a completely baffled Riker.
  21. (( A cell, somewhere )) :: The darkness surrounding Claire was heavy on her shoulders. She could grasp it, almost, before her fingers slipped through the thick black soup that embraced her wholly. Raising her hand she could not even see that, so Claire's mind began to wander, wondering if it was even still there. Was any of her body still there or was her spirit just in a void between lives? :: :: A sudden beam of blinding light drilled its way into her eyes, pain flooding through her as she instinctively threw herself to the floor - there was a floor that was a good sign of not being in the void - and covered her head with her arm. Good that was still there as well. Claire had shut her eyes tight to block out any of the light, as light was pain. :: :: Voices came closer, undefined sounds that she could not make any sense from. What language was that? Her badge pressed against her chest, it was still there, why did it not translate? Where was she, that Starfleet had not encountered it enough to adapt to their patterns? How did she even get here? :: :: Last Claire remembered was sitting in the ship's bar of the USS Potemkin, off-duty, having a drink with her colleagues and talking about the mission that did lie ahead. They had noticed some strange energy readings and had theorized - mostly just fooling around - where they might have come from. It had been a while after that she had left for her quarters. A dizzy feeling had made walking difficult and Claire had assumed that she had possibly one too many to drink. But then thinks got really bad and she had hit the floor just a few steps behind her quarter's door, missing the couch by a few inches.:: :: And that was it, she had woken up in darkness, the same unchanging darkness she still was in. Well, the darkness before the light had cut through it. The sounds, or voices as Claire thought they were, had come closer, worry flooded her, the not knowing where she was and who they were. Afraid that the light would hurt her again she kept her head low, maybe nobody saw her when she did not see them. Such a childish thought. :: :: It did not work of course. When Claire felt the touch on her arm she almost jumped. It did not feel like skin, more like leather and it pulled her up without much effort. Squeezing her eyes shut, now that the arm-cover was gone, she could feel cool breath on her face. Curiosity spread in her body and carefully she peeked through a thin slit, as she raised the lids just a little. :: :: The light came from behind the person so she only saw a dark shade. The voice, now only one close to her and coming from the person holding her arm. Would they understand her? She was not sure but she had to try. :: Claire: Where am I? :: Again those sounds. Hissing, gnarling, clacking. Claire had no doubt that he was trying to talk with her, but there was no way she could make sense out of what came out of his mouth. For some reason she was sure it was a he, maybe she was wrong, but she would possibly not find out. When he turned his head she could see scales in the shade that fell on his face. That would explain the leathery feel. :: Claire: Please, I don't know what I am doing here. :: She hated not knowing if he understood her or not, even more than not knowing what he said. Another voice came from behind him, covered by the big face in her view. :: Claire: I do not understand you. Why am I here? :: She had to try, maybe they had heard her language before. What a glimmer of possibility, but she would never know if she did not try. From behind the one in front of her Claire could hear beeping sounds, they sounded familiar, but still strange. Almost like the sounds that came from pressing buttons on consoles. :: Reptile man: Hrane ioan trema. :: Claire's blue eyes darted to the one holding her when she could hear a change in the noises he made for words. They did not sound just as foreign anymore, but still a language she did not understand. The reptile shook his head and she heard more beeping from behind. She looked him over as much as she could, the light not hurting that much any more. He wore something in a steel blue, it looked like leather and metal, but she could not be too sure. :: Reptile man: G'Tak one tira... ::Claire shook her head slightly and the beeping continued while the man spoke more until finally... :: ... will be eliminated. Claire: :: Her eyes grew wide.:: What? Eliminated? Reptile man: This is the right one. ::Turning his head to her:: You will be eliminated. Claire: But... but why? I do not even know how I got here. Reptile man: Your ship entered our territory. It was scanned and violations against the law registered. Claire: Which law? Reptile man: Our laws of course. You broke the law, you will be eliminated. :: A thousand questions swirled in Claire's head like a tornado. When had they entered the territory of these reptiles? Nothing had been on the star charts and they had just been on the way to their mission. Which law had she broken and could she explain them that she had no idea? Would that matter? If she was here, were there more of the ship or was she the only one? She was not a diplomat, she had no idea how to deal with those situations, but she hoped to find answers by asking the right questions. But what were the right questions? :: Claire: I was not aware of your laws. Reptile man: That does not matter. :: He let go of her arm and Claire dropped back to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He stretched his legs and as he raised she saw that he was really big. :: Claire: Please, let me explain... Reptile man: No explanation needed. Your mockery will not be tolerated. You will meet your ancestors within the hour. :: He started to walk towards the door, the place where the light came from. It was so bright it was hard to see something of him. :: Claire: At least tell me what my crime is. :: The other reptile joined him at the door, standing behind to block some of the light, so she could see him somewhat better. He was tall, green scales covering his body, at least the parts she saw, and he wore a steel blue uniform. The other wore a uniform as well, but it was of a pale purple. Maybe to represent their department or rank, Claire thought. His eyes were piercing red and she wondered how she had not seen that before. He watched her for a moment, looking her over and if a reptile could show emotions she could interpret, she could have sworn that his showed disgust. :: :: He took a step back and the door began to close. She almost thought that she would not get an answer, but just as the last gap brought a hint of light into the room she heard him. :: Reptile man: You are mocking us, you will die. Because ... you are wearing green. :: Then darkness came. Not only in the room, pitch black and swallowing, but also in Claire's heart. Who would have thought that choosing this one dress would have such consequences. She stared into the void, into the nothingness that surrounded her, getting a hold of her insides beginning to crush them under the weight of the knowledge what would happen next, because she had chosen a certain completely irrelevant dress to wear:: :: Feeling the salty traces of her despair run down her cheeks she hoped, prayed to any deity that would listen even if not her own, that she was found, so this shimmer of light had not been the last she ever saw. :: ------ Claire St. John Kindergarten Teacher USS Potemkin written by LtCmdr Jalana Laxyn Chief Medical Officer / Second Officer USS Apollo Image Team Facilitator
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