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Ayiana

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Ayiana last won the day on July 25

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About Ayiana

  • Rank
    In my defense, I was left unsupervised.
  • Birthday 07/04/1984

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  • Current Vessel
    USS Gorkon
  • Current Post
    First Officer
  • Elite Team Status
    Training Team Member

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    California
  • Gender
    Male
  • Interests
    Star trek (obviously), star wars, science fiction. Computers and technology. Graphic design. Photoshop and 3D modeling. PC games.

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  1. Ayiana

    TAG/TBC?

    Yea. Everyone above has pretty much explained it quite succinctly. TAG/TBC is mostly a holdover from older days. I've been here almost five years and rarely used them. I think TAG at the bottom of a post was to indicate people were tagged for responses, but it's deprecated on some ships (it's up to the CO of a ship to dictate its usage). TBC is still sometimes used to indicate a continuation of a special narrative, such as a multi-sim post, or Joint Post. Subject-line TAGging is in a similar boat. On the ships I've served on, we've been actively discouraged from TAGging people in the subject line, as we found that some people would only read the sims their character was tagged in, ignoring the other ships' sims. This could lead to confusion with the plot as people didn't read other groups' sims. Again, this is up to the discretion of the ship's CO.
  2. Ayiana

    Jo "Blondie" Marshall

    (( Sickbay, Skarbek )) ::Despite the conversations in the room, somehow it was still quiet. Jo watched as Erin lay in between Quinn and 'Kos, hands held across all three, creating a physical scaffolding to support the mental connection. She tilted her head as Erin closed her eyes. The affirmations from the Doctors of placative assurance, that everything would be OK, hadn't settled her mind any. She wanted to believe them, but life was rarely fair, and friends often died.:: Yiggtissi: OK, let’s begin. Needles, activate the monitors. ::The connected display units illuminated above the biobed loungers, presenting the cortical scans for monitoring purposes. There were facts and figures, a trio of brains that protruded from the screens into holographic three-dimensional imagery. Synaptic pathways lit up as they wound through the grey matter, like tree roots growing under the earth.:: Sim: See you... on the... other side… ::Dense silence overtook the clinic, permeated by the occasional sound of disjointed beeps from the computers. The Saurian remained close to the triad, tricorder in hand, always monitoring for slight changes or telltale signs of distress. Jo shifted on her feet and worried the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth, following the slowly pitching lines on the monitors like the crest and trough of waves in the sea. Finally, the undulating ripples smoothed into synchronicity.:: Sterling: They’re entering deep sleep. Yiggtissi: ::His eyes focused on his tricorder.:: How are we looking, Iriin? Changes? Sterling: No, nothing yet. Yiggtissi: Ok. Begin the neural interface, keep an eye on their acetylcholine levels. Let me know if you see a peak in Corticotropin. I will monitor their Cortisol levels from here. ::Corticotropin rang a bell in some distant drafty hallway of Jo's mind. Instead of delving into the chimes, she crossed her arms, started to chew slivers of her thumbnail off, and found herself looking at Walter. The man was near impossible to read, like flattened braille, and she followed his studious gaze to the monitors above Quinn. Not for the first time that day, she wondered about his plans. Her attention returned to the Doctors - Needles busy with her monitoring, the Saurian doing the same, his dark eyes a mystery, then he looked up at the Bear.:: Yiggtissi: Capt’n, I’m not sure what is going on here but if it hadn’t been for you taking a chance with us, Genkos and I would probably still be in that bar on Alpha Minervus. Brunsig: Response Yiggtissi: I just wanted to say that it has been a pleasure. ::That was the other enigma glaring at them from the umbrae. If this was all a dream, some baroque blend of brain bewitchery, what had her life been up to that point? She had clear memories, more than she cared to. A fragment of her heart wanted it to be real - to "wake up" and for this dream to be the product of an undercooked mushroom stew, to go home to her bike and Erin's billion plants. ::Realigning her mind to the present, she watched the hybrid breathing for a moment, and said the first thing that came into her head.:: Marshall: I wonder what they're seeing in there. ::The words had barely left her mouth before their Saurian Doctor collapsed to the floor, curling into the foetal position in the cramped space. His body shook, arms and legs kicking out in all directions. Jo dropped to the floor beside him, placing her hand on the side of his ribs, feeling his swift and shallow breath. Another kick from his long leg landed into a cabinet door, denting the metal on impact. ::Jo jumped back out of the way as his arms punched the air around him, battling an invisible enemy, then all at once he folded in on himself, tucking in his limbs close, like a human baby would to retain heat. In a second, he had jolted back awake, dark eyes wide and shining under the Sickbay lights. Between them, Jo and Walter helped him to the chair.:: Yiggtissi: I-What happened? Marshall: You dropped like a shot targ. Take your time coming back. Brunsig: Response Yiggtissi: I think I just went through my birth. But all of you were there, in Starfleet uniforms. Brunsig: Response ::It had been a long time since she had been in the uniform of the Federation's military branch and even longer for the German. She looked up at Walter, her question as unanswerable as it felt.:: Marshall: What does any of this mean? ::The unsteady Saurian wobbled back to the triplicated biobeds and leaned on them for support.:: Yiggtissi: I don’t know but if we don’t figure this out soon, I’m afraid the entire crew could get lost in these hallucinations. ::The crackle of the intercom speakers sounded above their heads and a disembodied voice, or voices, started to speak over one another in quick succession.:: Skarbek: =/= Enlistment to the Skarbek Sanitarium. Collect your uniform from the third cat on the right. Please keep your hands and organs inside the ride at all futures, pasts and presents. Throw the lampshade into the volcano and dance like a lemur in a negligee. Casino night is every Sunday that occurs twice in a roundabout. Hahahahaha... =/= Yiggtissi/Brunsig: Response ::Jo felt something wriggling in her pocket and stuck her hand inside, dragging out a tribble. Another spurted forth from the cabinet with the Saurian boot dent, rolled across the floor and started to shimmy. Then it split, multiplying itself like miniature furry amoebas until the floor was a jive scene of dancing tribbles. Jo sneezed into her hands and looked down at her palms to find a tiny Klingon with a bat'leth, who then elegantly swan-dived from her fingers into the pile of tribbles. ::She looked up at Walter and Yiggs, still holding her palms together, not suite sure how to interpret what was going on.:: Marshall: I've never sneezed in Klingon before. Yiggtissi/Brunsig: Response Skarbek: =/= Warning, unknown vessel on approach. Warning, beacon has been intercepted. ::A radio voice.:: And hereeeeeeee's Trellium-D with that all new catchy verse... ::Song starts playing, crooner voice.:: I've got you, under my skin. I've got youuuu, deep in the heart of me. ::Normal voice.:: Warning, warning, warning, warning. Bondage rhymes with hostage. Do you know what doesn't rhyme with bondage? Neurotoxin. Silver syringes will drop in succession from the bow of the cube. Do not be fooled by the dog. It is infinite. =/= ::There was a faint tap on her shoulder - just enough to be felt hitting her shirt - then the trickle of water running down the back of her arm. Jo looked down at the splodge of wet fabric, then up to the ceiling. A single track of water ran across the mottled roof, and then the walls and floor began to shake.:: Yiggtissi/Brunsig: Response ---- Jo "Blondie" Marshall Maquis Resistance Fighter The Skarbek simmed by Lieutenant Jocelyn Marshall Chief Operations Officer USS Gorkon G239304JM0
  3. Ayiana

    Greetings from Ari Tullus!

    #TrillMasterRace
  4. Thanks for the spotlight! This was fun to write, but during research I learned more than i wanted to about pregnancy and childbirth.
  5. There is love in your body but you can't get it out It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth Sticks to your tongue and it shows on your face That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste — Hardest of Hearts, Florence + The Machine ((Cyrithra Forest, Tyrellia)) Brunsig: You forgot something. ::Lost in her stargazing, Quinn hadn't heard Walter approach, and she startled at the sound of his voice. As she turned toward him, he slapped two small presentation boxes into the palm of her hand, without waiting for acknowledgement or greeting. She knew what they contained without needing to open them; one a Purple Heart, the other a Good Conduct Ribbon. She had earned service ribbons in the Roman Expanse, as well as her crew.:: Reynolds: I didn't forget. I just don't like handing myself awards. Brunsig: What the hell are you playing at? ::She stared at him. There had been no preamble or preface to the outburst, and she was entirely caught off guard. Walter's default emotional state was a simmering irritation, but as he stood in front of her, it looked like more than that. He was angry -- angry with *her* --and she hadn't the faintest idea why.:: Reynolds: Pardon me? Brunsig: Are you deliberately aiming to secure the record for most Purple Hearts awarded to a single officer? Or are you actually *trying* to get yourself killed? ::Deja vu all over again. How many times had they had this conversation? Maybe he'd had a point when it had come to their investigation into the Orion Syndicate on Tyrellia, or even the mission to Leutra IV, but this time? This time she had played by all the rules. She'd been a good little admiral, staying away from the danger as best she could. There wasn't much she could do when the danger had barged in without so much as knocking.:: Reynolds: Come on. I didn't run off on an away team. I didn't even leave the bridge! What happened was hardly a result of me recklessly throwing myself at danger. Brunsig: But you were damn quick to try and martyr yourself with that neurogenic field crap, weren't you? If that had been anyone else, you would have had them marched to sickbay and put under guard. But no. Quinn Reynolds has to prove that she's willing to die for her crew. ::It took her a moment to realise that her first instinct wasn't denial, but annoyance that he was right. Was he right? After all, his comment wasn't entirely dissimilar to the observations that had come from her counsellor.:: Reynolds: That's not… ::Fair? Oh no, it was fair. Frustratingly fair. But as much as she wanted to deny it, she had never lied to Walter, and she had no intention of starting now.:: Reynolds: Fine. It was a bad choice. But it was a bad choice in a sea of even worse choices. Our backs were against the wall, Walter. There weren't any other options. Brunsig: Not a single damn option on a boat of seven hundred "clever and brave" people? You're full of crap, Cupcake. ::Her temper flared, and she snapped out the response before her brain had time to consult with her mouth. Funny, how often that happened around him.:: Reynolds: Watch your tone, *Captain*. ::And there they were, each as furious as the other, captain and admiral locked in an irate glare. His lip curled and he snarled his response.:: Brunsig: Aye aye, *sir*. ::Every time she wielded their rank disparity like a weapon against him, she regretted it. That was as inevitable as the heat death of the universe, and yet she found herself doing it far too often when her hackles were up. ::And if anyone knew how to push her buttons, it was Walter Brunsig. He snorted, then turned on his heel and began to stalk away, back toward the path, his footsteps heavy on the soft earth of the forest floor. But after only a few steps, he whirled around to face her again, and the flush of anger on his cheeks was darkened with a blush of something else.:: Brunsig: For crying out loud, Quinn! Do you think I stole a starship and tear-assed across the galaxy for *Vess*? ::If his words had been intended to take the wind out of her sails, they were entirely successful. Her anger fell as quickly as it had risen, washed away by her sharp intake of breath. ::Throughout the whole Yarahla Nine affair, he'd maintained that he'd participated because it was the moral and right thing to do. Because Starfleet had dismissed what Sienelis had to say without proper consideration. Because there had been hundreds of lives on the line, and he couldn't in good conscience ignore even the tiniest chance at saving them. And it was true, of that she had no doubt. Walter Brunsig was brusque, and often rude, but he was not a liar. Those had been his reasons. She had believed him. ::Never, ever had he so much as hinted that there was another truth underpinning all of those noble and fair justifications… and that truth was her. She shook her head, lost for words, and then the first, stupid thing that popped into her head was spilling out of her mouth.:: Reynolds: Well, there is a certain frisson between you two… ::She deadpanned it, but even as the words were leaving her lungs, she was cringing inside. It was a poor time for jokes.:: Brunsig: I am in no mood, Cupcake. *No* mood. ::That much was obvious. She held up her hands, palms toward Walter, and took a few steps toward him, trying to placate his outrage. She didn't want to fight.:: Reynolds: Look, just… ::She sighed.:: Start again. What do you-- Brunsig: You. I want you. ::His sharp blue eyes widened, then he grimaced and looked away. The dim light in the moonlit forest did little to hide the blush that had firmly taken hold on his cheeks. That was not what he had wanted to say -- or at the very least, it was not how he had intended to say it. For her part, Quinn found herself mute, her freckled skin pale, hazel eyes wide and staring; a moth frozen in amber. And there they stood, her transfixed, him avoiding her gaze, the silence growing longer and more awkward with each passing heartbeat.:: Brunsig: Dammit, say something. TBC --------- I never stopped You're still written in the scars on my heart We're not broken, just bent And we can learn to love again — Just Give Me A Reason, P!nk featuring Nate Ruess ((Cyrithra Forest, Tyrellia)) Reynolds: Well… ::Again, she was lost for words. All she could think of was every instance where he'd pushed her away -- and there'd been a fair few -- and it was that resentment that formed her next sentence.:: It's just that you've had a funny way of showing it. ::She waited for the sarcastic retort, and the scowl that would accompany it. Instead he heaved a sigh and shook his head, rubbing a hand across his face and then through his short, blond hair. He hesitated, and took a moment to survey their surroundings, and she knew him well enough to know that he was ensuring they had no unwelcome eavesdroppers before he continued.:: Brunsig: I'm… sorry. ::He grimaced, the words of an apology foreign in his mouth.:: Look, Quinn. In my life there have been exactly two women I've been inclined to commit to. One left me at the altar, and the other wouldn't even say yes to my proposal. ::It felt like an elastic band snapping in her mind, and her expression twisted into an echo of his usual scowl.:: Reynolds: Do you think I'm a liar? ::He was taken aback by the question, and it took him a few moments to regain his bearing and form a response. Quinn let herself have just a little satisfaction at being able to catch him off guard, even to the point where he didn't have the wherewithal to even try and cover it.:: Brunsig: What? Reynolds: I mean, I can't think of any other reason why I'm repeating myself. Brunsig: Quinn-- Reynolds: No. You *listen* to me. I never saw marriage as a part of my life. Ever. I never saw myself as someone's wife, never imagined I'd have a husband or wife of my own. And you never, ever gave me the slightest hint that marriage was something you wanted, either. We never discussed it, you were openly cynical about the idea when other people did it -- so yes, when you sprung it on me, I was surprised and I needed a little time. Brunsig: You-- Reynolds: Shut. Up. ::He scowled, but to her mild surprise, he complied with an impatient flick of his wrist, indicating she should continue. And so, onwards she ploughed, a little bit afraid that if she stopped now, she'd never be able to say it again. Anger and frustration were powerful motivators, after all, and without them...:: Reynolds: I was going to say yes. After the mission, I was going to say yes. So please, stop acting like I left you or threw you out. The only reason you didn't get your answer is because… ::The words tasted too bitter to say, and it was her turn to grimace. "Because I killed you" was an overly-dramatic, but not entirely inaccurate way of describing it. Every commanding officer dreaded the day they had to order someone they cared about to sacrifice themselves, and Quinn had struggled to come to terms with that decision for a very long time.:: Brunsig: You thought I was dead. And then you moved on. Spawned with Ross, shacked up with Tam-- Reynolds: I am not going to apologise for-- ::It was her turn to be cut off, and as much as it annoyed her, she couldn't deny that he'd weathered her interruptions and let her finish. So she pursed her lips, and listened.:: Brunsig: I'm not asking you to apologise for anything. You don't *owe* me an apology for anything. ::He frowned at her, his gaze intense.:: *Anything*, Quinn, do you hear me? Not for that decision, and not for your boy toys. It was the right call -- hell, it was the *only* call. And what you did in your personal life is your own damn business. ::He frowned, stopping there to gather his thoughts. Walter Brunsig was not one to discuss his innermost feelings, not even when there was a metaphorical gun to his head. Brunsig: You'd moved on. I hadn't. Most of my so-called "relationships" have been physical, rather than emotional. It's easier. You have a good time, and you part ways, no hurt feelings. Watching someone move on without you is… ::It wasn't like him to trail off or leave a sentence hanging, with his preference for speaking plainly -- a little *too* plainly, at times. But he didn't need to form the words, because she knew what he was describing. She remembered all too well how it had felt when she had realised that her relationship with David had become an afterthought to his career aspirations, watching him move on and up with barely a backward glance in her direction.:: Reynolds: Yeah. I know. ::Was this where she was supposed to admit that she'd never really moved on? That Harry wouldn't have had a chance if she even suspected Walter had still been alive? That she would have never turned to Kael for comfort, if she'd thought for just a second that Walter had been awaiting her return? ::Problem was, she never quite been able to work out if it was endearing, or just plain pathetic. It had certainly felt like the latter, but maybe...:: Brunsig: I still love you, Quinn. I never stopped. ::He shook his head, heaving another sigh.:: Given the evidence, it doesn't look like I can. ::His words stole her breath, and few moments later she had to remind herself to breathe again as her head grew light. Of all the places she had imagined this conversation going, a confession like that had not been one of them. A small, cautious smile crept onto her lips as she dared to hope.:: Reynolds: That was… actually a little bit romantic. ::He held up a stern finger.:: Brunsig: Don't tell. Reynolds: Our secret. ::She didn't know what else to say. Her heart sounded obnoxiously loud as it banged away inside her chest; a galloping rhythm that she was quite sure everyone inside the forest would be able to hear. Walter seemed equally ill at ease, his cheeks still coloured with that self-conscious flush of pink. What were they supposed to do now? He was only an arm's length away, but it might as well have been a light year.:: Reynolds: Well, this is awkwa-- ::He silenced her with a kiss, his lips warm and soft against her own, his hand light on the back of her neck. The callouses on the tips of his fingers scratched gently against that sensitive skin, shivers rolling down her shoulders and spine. And there, against the edges of her mind, his thoughts brushed against her own -- and to her surprise, they were as soft and warm as his touch. It was familiar and new, all at the same time, and she wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment, with him.:: ::And for at least a little while, there under the stars and leafy boughs, Quinn Reynolds got her wish.:: -- Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0
  6. ((OOC: Character responses are from old sims which Sera was apart of.)) ((IC:)) ((Holodeck 3, USS Gorkon)) :: The scene inside the simulated cave was a representation of what the Aella clan had gone through for hundreds of years when faced with the Ushaan and while each clan was different in preparing their warrior for the single combat duel, it was not uncommon for a mind ritual to take place.:: ::The ritual was designed to have warrior's face and overcome their own personal fears, doubts, and anxieties before the duel. So often a warrior could be defeated by these before they even attached the tether or picked up a ushaan-tor. But if those mental barriers were beaten before the duel, they would be able to enter battle with a singular purpose while being unafraid of their adversary or the consequences of failure. Doing so would greatly increase a warriors chance of victory.:: :: Sera understood the reason Ensign Nohx, the ship's counsellor, had assigned her the program even if she had held apprehension at running it when there was no actual Ushaan was to be faced. She had to face down her own fears, doubts, and anxieties or she would never reach her full potential as an officer.:: :: It was why she sat in a cave who's inner walls and floor were coated in thick ice, and why she sat in front of a small roaring fire in the centre of the same cave. Her eye were fixated on the flames as if she was in a trace which, in truth, she was. She had been led into it by the elder shaman that stood behind the fire. The frail old Andorian stood in the traditional robes with his eyes closed while signing the stories of the Aella clan. The heat from the fire caused a patch of the ice on the ceiling to slowly melt over the hours that she had been in her guided meditation, but the slight drip on her shoulders and head had been forgotten once she had surrendered to the fire and to the voice of the Shaman. The warmth dissipated quickly in the dark cave but it was enough to keep Sera from being physically troubled by the extreme cold, the words and thyme of the shaman's song kept Sera's mind safe as it navigated its own troubling memories and feelings.:: :: It had not all been the work of the Shaman to get into the trance-like state, it was common on to take a small dose of the Saf, a psychoactive chemical refined from an Andorian plant. However it was highly illegal off Andoria, as other species had taken the chemical recreationally and the overdose threshold was alarmingly low. So in front of Sera sat an Akoonah , a device used by the native people of the American continent on Earth to experience vision quests. She found it highly unlikely that it would work for her, but she was wrong. She was taken into a trace by a combination of the Akoonah, the fire and the singing voice of the shaman.:: ::Her memories had forced her to relieve arriving on the Human colony as an adolescent during a time of war, the fear had washed over her like a tidal wave and she had suddenly felt alone and afraid surrounded by a species she had only ever seen briefly and in small number. Her posture in front of the fire had started to crumble as she was overwhelmed by those feelings but then the shamans voice had changed, he sang of Sera's ancestors who had been daring and brave and her memories had switched to when she had finally made friends with Humans, when she had opened up and allowed her personality to come through. Her posture had returned and she smiled involuntarily as she remembered those high school friends and a particular boy her own age, who however brief, had been more than a friend.:: ::For the next hour she continued to smile as the Shaman sang and led her through long forgotten memories, until his voice changed again. He sang of a time when the of the Aella clan had hit by the Terrellian plague and been devastated. Sera's body seemed to spasm and tense in discomfort, her own memories flashing to a much milder time of discomfort. She relived being a cadet and standing on an empty holodeck with Chief Petty Officer McMann looking at her in disappointment.:: ::The Chief poked Sera in the belly with an index finger and moved forward.:: McMann: Until you graduate this academy, you are a cadet and you will address me as an officer. Is… ::poke.:: that… ::poke:: clear? ::poke:: ::She had flinched with every poke in the belly as if the memory of them were moving her backward now but the memory of Leigh McMann faded to be replaced Fleet Captain Reynolds looking at her in annoyance.:: Reynolds: Captain, or sir. Never ma'am…. ::The Fleet Captain looked away from Sera and continued talking. The words faded away, but Sera's antennae dropped to her head her cheeks heated to a darker shade of blue as she relived annoying the fleet captain with her form of address during the first introduction. As the Shaman continued to sing of the disease ravaging the ranks of the Aella clan, her CO was replaced by the image of an Andorian Ensign fighting a horde of spiders. The Ensign kicked with her boot and stabbed with a multitool but was soon overwhelmed despite screaming and thrashing around. Soon the Andorian Ensign was haul up and carried away on a sea of spiders, Sera could hear the screams of the Ensign and then the threats as she fought back in what little way she could. But the Ensign was not eaten, instead she was dumped in front of a groups of fellow officers it took the startled Ensign a long moment to realise that the Spiders had rescued her and had not intended on eating her.:: ::Even in the trance state part of her was embarrassed to watch herself be so foolish and scared in front of her shipmates due to an imaginary threat but the feeling faded as the Shamans song changed. He sang of the Vulcan medical team which intervened saving many lives from the plague at a time when Andorians and Vulcans distrusted each other. Sera became visably more relaxed and an image of McMann returned holding a glass of scotch while laughing with Sera.:: zh'Aella: Yooooouuuu like meeeee. McMann: Tester, what have I done? ::Her CO reappeared pinning a Lt. JG pip on her collar with gloved hands and congratulating her.:: Reynolds: I hereby promote Colleen Bancroft and Sera zh'Aella to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade, with all the rights and privileges that follow. ::Jo Marshall appeared at a poker table genteelly teasing her about the spiders while the Andorain wore a top hat.:: Marshall: There’s no “might” about it. It was spectacular. ::Sera again relaxed and smiled widely at the new memories and her happy state continued for a what might have been another hour as the shaman sang of peaceful and flourishing times for the Aella clan until he began to sing of war.:: ::It was not the recent war that he sang of, the Aella Clan had taken no part in the Dominion War as their number was too small, but when they were more numerous they had fought and died alongside their human allies in the Earth-Romulan War. As the Shaman sang of loose and death, Sera relieved the crashing of the Gorkon out of Quantum Slip Stream into the Roman Nebular. She felt the pressure of the helm console in her chest as the ship's internal compensators fought the sudden stress. She felt crashing humiliation as she looked around the bridge and viewed all the injured. Then the fear returned as she watched a giant petty officer be swarmed by faceless creatures and found a crewman bleeding to death on a corridor lit by flickering emergency lights, but this time the fear passed quickly replaced by something worse. She rocked as if hit over the as her shame attacked her, She saw herself standing beside Cory Stoyer and Jo Marshall as the trio faced a monster. She watched as two of them stood their ground and one of retreated, as she retreated, as she ran away and left them to their fate. Her Antenna spasmed as the shaman's song came to an end at the Battle of Cheron and Sera relived the memory again, but this time she did not run away, yes she took stepped back in fear but as soon she saw her fellow officers stand firm she re-joined them.she remembered beaming the still alive crewman to sickbay. She then remembered her friends and officers telling her that the crash was not her fault:: Stoyer: Sera, you did nothing wrong. As an old helmsman myself, I would let you drive anytime. ::The shaman hummed gently as he circled the now dim fire and he placed a weak hand on Sera's shoulder. She reached out and touched the Akoonah and she became fully aware of her surroundings, slowly she looked up at the shaman.:: Shaman: Are you ready to be tested Sera zh'Aella? zh'Aella: Yes. =/\= Lieutenant JG Sera zh'Aella Helm/Comm/Ops USS Gorkon V239107TZ0
  7. Ayiana

    Academy Training

    Glad you are enjoying it! Keep up the great work, and you'll be an Ensign in no time!
  8. I just wanted to tell you that I loved your scientific analysis of the Seraphim and Subspace Starfish! That's the kind of stuff I live for in this game! I actually wrote up something similar just for my own personal use, but never posted it anywhere. Your report makes the science we encounter real and fascinating and I just wanted to thank you for putting real thought into it. And not just real thought, but real ethical dilemmas! I mean, who knows who else might accidentally wander into the nebula in the future. If we don't close the fissures they're blood is on our hands. And thanks for making sure to take my small contributions into account, even little details in Seneca's sim, I really appreciate that.

    1. Ayiana

      Ayiana

      Thanks! I hadn't done one in a long time. You can see my past ones on my wiki. I always enjoyed doing those at the end of a mission (or at least the ones that I could wrangle a scientific explanation out of). I always enjoyed the technobabble and fictional physics of Star Trek. 

      Have you thought of doing something like that from an Engineer's point-of-view? It would be really interesting.

  9. Ayiana

    Having a blast so far

    Don't worry, that was me. I had never heard of writing RPG groups before finding SB118. I browsed the page like a stalker for a couple of weeks before applying. Definitely worth it!
  10. Ayiana

    Questions about our group

    The STO screenshots are just a good way to show a ship that doesn't have a lot of screen time, or are purely B-canon. For example, the TV shows and movies don't make reference to Vestas or Lunas, but they exist in books and STO.
  11. Happy Birthday, Captain Cupcake!! :harry:

  12. Honestly, these days you can just use Google Docs. I haven't needed to use Word for most things unless it requires very special formatting that drive's robust, and addon-capable, features dont have. Also you can upload word docs to drive and drive will preserve the original formatting pretty well.
  13. I use google drive. To standardize my text, I select all the text I want, then select a Text Style. In my case, its simply Normal Text, but you can also create custom styles to mass apply. When it comes time to send a sim, I just copy and paste everything from the doc into an email. All my spell-checking and editing is done in docs. Plus it provides a permanent storage area for past sims.
  14. Ayiana

    Can I just say this?

    She has Peters on my ship (the Victory), and is helping me out as well. At our mentors' suggestions, we might be starting some sort of IC personal relationship as a way to "break the ice", especially for me, since I'm pretty new still to PBEM. Oh yea, and the wiki stuff.
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