Samira Neathler

Seeing a certain person @Geoffrey Teller is expanding his Brew Continuum Empire, it's only fair to show him that some people namely @Jo Marshall are doing all they can to promote the BC merchandise. (( Research Station - Giáng Sinh )) “My Dearest Parents. I put words to this communication on the hope your good selves shall receive it before you attend Giáng Sinh. First, the Admiral doesn’t like guests. Secondly, You’ll be quartered either on the Gorkon or down on the surface; it’s entirely up to you. Your original request for organic avocados has proved difficult. Smashed avocado on toast from the replicator does not constitute a war crime allegation. The coffee is plentiful and there’s a coffeehouse on the ship — Erin grows the plants. There’s snow down here and no, there’s nothing I can do about it unfortunately it’s just part of the weather system. Please don’t mention the Hawaiian shirt and leather jacket incident. Looking forward to seeing you. Take your time getting here. Much love.” Jo slumped back in the chair and wiped her hands over her face, wondering if she could get away with the slightest, smallest note going. “Please don’t come.” But they were already winging their way to the planet, both excited to see the terra forming activities taking place, spend Christmas somewhere that looked and felt like a Christmas of their homeworld back in their childhood years, and, time permitting, see their daughter. The blonde slipped her fingers through the handle of the travel coffee mug (Brew Continuum, Fastest Coffee in the Fleet!) and stirred it around with the power of centrifugal motion. She looked up out of the small window afforded by the Operations building, reminded of the administration centre back on Starfleet Academy campus, and the day she’d followed the then Captain out into the grounds after their return from Over There. It hadn’t been snowing. Quite the contrary, the sun had shone heavily in a blue sky and flowers bloomed beneath. Her parents hadn’t made it back for that, either, and Jo had disappeared from the Japanese Tea Gardens on her bike with one Erin Reynolds; the two taking off for the high hills of the San Mateo region. Erin drove, Jo had held on for dear life as the hybrid tested just how fast the engine could go up the winding roads beside the Pacific Ocean, illuminated by the blaze of sunset light streaming down from the horizon. Little did she know then that Erin would come to occupy her thoughts for the next two years. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise the Bajoran enthusiasts had refused the invitation. Lost in her thoughts, as she was, Jo lifted the coffee to her lips and took a quick sip, momentarily forgetting how hot the Brew Continuum branded travel mug (100% leak-proof vacuum, insulated for perfect heat retention, and a strip of silicone for easy carrying, available at all BC franchises) kept eighteen ounces of coffee perfectly sealed. A quick burn to her bottom lip and a reactive wince saw the mug fall from her grasp and roll onto the floor. She considered sending a message to Bear, entreating him to come back quicker from wherever he’d ended up with the former pirate for the backup, for someone to throw in front of her two life-givers like a ritual sacrifice or cannon fodder. What she needed was a swift distraction. Rescuing the mug from the group, and noting that it was completely and utterly leakproof (available from all good Brew Continuum franchises), Jo strolled outside. Snow lazily drifted down from the sky; large snowflakes covering the ground and surrounding decking. Containers hauled from the support ships for the colonists covered in the white powder, dry and beautiful, untouched in the thick morning air. Everything felt a little serene as Jo looked around, taking in the day's smell. Erin, with her wonderfully scientific brain, had informed her that snow didn’t have a scent, and instead what she could smell did not differ from a cold, dry day on the planet, or impurities in the frozen water, like dirt and salt from the water source. She’d also informed her of the stimulation to the trigeminal nerve in her face caused by the cold air they breathed, which stirred an all around sensory experience of snow. Those small things that Erin thought were perfectly mundane pieces of information delivered in such a simple manner were one of the many reasons Jo loved her. Her botanist could make the smallest things seem wonderfully magical. Across the way, Jo spotted Ghant Xerix, their pilot extraordinaire making his way across the town square, on his way from or to somewhere or other. The Betazoid had made some interesting relationships in his brief time on board the Gorkon — ‘Kos appearing in their quarters heartbroken, Erin because of that, Caedan as sad and dejected as if someone had stolen his happy, Valesha because of that, and those were only the ones she knew about. However, Jo liked the guy. He was a good pilot and operations officer, dedicated himself to his work when he wasn’t breaking hearts and taking names, and it felt like the young fella had been with them from the start. With that in mind, Jo placed the mug down on top of the container and watched for a second as the insulated one-hundred percent leak proof travel mug didn’t melt the snow at all. She scooped up a handful of snow in her hands, cutting a clear edge in the beautifully unblemished snow covering, and padded it up into a ball. Then, with the precision of her days playing endless games of springball, she threw it dead centre at her target. Xerix: Response Reactively, Jo ducked down behind the container crate before he could see her, her back pressed up against it as though enemy fire was about to come shooting toward her. She scooped up another handful of snow and looked over the top of the crate. Poking up over the top, she sent another ball of snow in an overarm angle toward the pilot and retreated to cover. Xerix: Response Another handful of powder scooped up, Jo couldn’t help laughing this time and glanced around the side of the crate. Marshall: Evasive maneuvers, Mister Xerix! Take up a defensive position! Xerix: Response -- Lt. Commander Jo Marshall First Officer USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 G239304JM0

@Quinn Reynolds Got to love Brunsig's insight on the Gorkon's crew. 🙂 ((Courtyard, Reichsburg Cochem, Earth)) ::On her own for a few minutes, Quinn searched the crowd for her absent partner. She spied him after a short while; talking to Stoyer and Tereen and looking none too pleased about it. Like her, he wasn't someone who ever felt particularly at ease in large gatherings — and unlike her, he tended to express that in a very particular way. She considered wandering over to rescue him from the well-wishers, but he was perfectly capable of extracting himself if that was indeed what he wanted to do. ::That, and her attention had been captured by another of their guests. The Trill approaching her was a lovely woman, tall like her father, with his kind brown eyes and gentle smile. Falls of copper hair flowed, the tan of her markings stark against pale skin across her bare shoulders and shins. The knee-length blue dress was lovely, simple in design with beaded accents on the bodice and near the hemline.:: Reynolds: I wasn't sure you'd come. Tam: I think Dad would haunt me if I didn't. ::Quinn smiled at her, the expression coloured with a touch of sorrow, one that was echoed in the other woman's eyes. Kael had been gone for years now, and every once in a while, that wound felt as raw as the first day. Times like this, when she would have loved to shared her happiness with a dear friend. Instead, she was sharing it with his daughter.:: Reynolds: I think that's a distinct possibility. ::Aimi laughed, a smile coming as easily to her as it always had her father. Warm brown eyes travelled across the reception, the guests and then back to Quinn.:: Tam: He would have liked to have been here. Reynolds: I'm very pleased that you are. ::Quinn hadn't know the girl well, prior to the Gorkon's misadventure into another universe. She'd known of her, of course, but it was only after their return and Kael's death that she'd come to know Aimi. They'd kept in contact; at first just exchanging memories of Kael to help one another with their grief, but over time it had evolved into conversations about what they were doing in the there and now.:: Reynolds: How's the academy going? Tam: Hard work, but you already know that. ::She smiled.:: Graduation seems altogether too close and too far away. ::Having parted ways from Tereen and Stoyer — who, Quinn observed, had left the conversation with a face filled with thunder — Walter drew up beside her, his hand touching briefly to the small of her back and then coming to rest on her hip. He eyed the Trill Quinn was speaking to, then dipped his head in a curt nod of greeting.:: Brunsig: Aimi. ::She smiled back at him, and there in her eyes was the knowing look of good humour that Kael had so often worn. It pinched at Quinn's heart, and the hybrid couldn't quite tell if she liked or loathed it.:: Tam: Good to see you outside of a cell. ::He huffed, a rare and quiet sound of wry amusement, one corner of his mouth tugging upward. Walter regarded her for a long moment, then shook his head.:: Brunsig: You are annoyingly like your father. Tam: ::She smiled warmly at him.:: Thank you. Brunsig: Case in point. ::Cutting in to their repartee, Quinn nudged Walter with her shoulder. Tall as he was, she could still see her mission specialist through the crowds, and from his taut body language she got the sense he was still stewing over whatever had been exchanged between the two.:: Reynolds: What did you say to Stoyer? Brunsig: "For what", "now that tedious social obligation is completed, off you trot", "disperse". ::He ticked off each of the sentences with an extended thumb and fingers. Quinn sighed, shaking her head. On the Brunsig Scale of Rude that was relatively mild, but she could see how Stoyer might have been embarrassed by it.:: Reynolds: You infuriated him in three sentences. That must be a record. Brunsig: I'm a high achiever, Cupcake. ::He shrugged, not caring in the least.:: But my personal best is one. ::Of that she had no doubt. He smirked at her, his steel-blue gaze flickering out among the crowd, locating Stoyer and Tereen. They'd been joined by Neathler, and given the glances sent in his direction, it seemed for at least for a time the topic of conversation was Walter. He did have a tendency to set himself up for it, sometimes even delighted doing so, but the idea he was being sniped about at his own wedding reception made a leaden stone settle in her stomach.:: Brunsig: He knows exactly who I am, Quinn, he knew exactly what to expect. It wasn't about me, that was all for the next ex-wife he had in tow. ::He [...]ed his head to the side, pouting his lips in mock sympathy.:: "Oh, poor Cory. Wasn't the mean, bad man so very mean and bad. Let me kiss your... ego... better." ::He rolled his eyes.:: I only gave him what wanted. ::Aimi bit her lip, though Quinn couldn't quite tell if she was holding back a laugh or disapproval. Quinn was swallowing down a mix of both, knowing she shouldn't find it funny and yet was struggling to keep a straight face. From the sly curl at the corner of Walter's lips, he damn well knew it, too.:: Reynolds: Yes. Well. ::She cleared her throat.:: Now that you're done playing the Curmudgeonly Cupid— ::The music on the stage drew their collective attention. Where there had been the soft melodies of a string quartet, there was now the ring of plucked harp strings accompanying the piano, in a somewhat eerie choice of key; F# Major, if she wasn't mistaken. A few bars in, the harpist's voice joined the instruments, and she heard an impatient sigh erupt from the blonde standing next to her.:: Brunsig: Is there a single member of your crew who isn't determined to make our wedding reception about them? ::Perhaps it was starting to feel a little bit like that, what with congratulations quickly shifting into tales of missing sons, lovers tiffs and outrage at Walter acting like Walter. She absently toyed with the neckline of her dress, recognising the words of the song. They reminded her of Harry, who'd been known to quote Tennyson when they'd been a couple, and that drew out an awkward smile. He was at the party, somewhere, tactfully keeping out of Walter's path as he minded Amelia and Dylan.:: Reynolds: He did ask if he could play something. ::Truth be told, the reception was for just about everyone but them. They were private people, neither of whom enjoyed the fuss. Initially, they'd both been leaning toward a quiet ceremony and dinner to celebrate afterwards — if that. But there were family and friends who expected (and in some cases, demanded) the chance to celebrate. As strident as both could be in command, sometimes it was just easier to take the path of least resistance in personal affairs. Enduring one uncomfortable evening was easier than weeks, months or even years of earache for not having one at all. ::And so they had compromised. A quiet ceremony for them, and a big reception to keep everyone else happy.:: Brunsig: Well, once Boy Wonder up there has finished murdering his harp, would you like to dance? If we're lucky it'll keep the well-wishers away for a few minutes. Reynolds: That's why I married you. Walter Brunsig, the eternal optimist. ::His gaze snapped away from her, toward the copper-haired young woman who was grinning at them both. Holding up a warning finger, he raised an eyebrow in the Trill's direction.:: Brunsig: Don't do it, Tam. Tam: I can't help it. You are kind of adorable together. ::Quinn chuckled, even as Walter let loose an exasperated sigh. At the dying notes of Xerix's song, he dropped his hand from her waist, catching her fingers between his. As their fingers entangled, so too did their thoughts, and she was buffeted by a complicated mix of affection, insecurity, devotion and frustration. Stealing a little while together without interruptions, even if it was only for the length of a song, was something they both needed.:: Reynolds: At the risk of being more adorable, would you excuse us, Aimi? I'd like to dance with my husband. Tam: There's a few people here I'd like to say hello to. ::She just kept grinning at the pair, beginning her retreat.:: Enjoy. ::Quinn breathed a quiet laugh and squeezed Walter's hand, walking alongside him to join the other dancers. With a sly smile, he lifted their hands as they stepped onto the dance floor, turning her in a languid spin before drawing her close, the two musicians finding the rhythm with ease.:: -- Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0

(I keep forgetting to post this…) Some of the Gorkon Crew are visiting the Holodeck for an adventure game during shore leave. I'd say a welcome read for something non-trek. :-) Well done guys. (( Weta Holoarena 4 - Wellington, New Zealand )) ::After her journey home to Earth, Caitríona Cayne returned to the USS Gorkon feeling fresh and new outlook on her life aboard the ship. The meeting with her brother went well enough - at least she returned all in one piece, however, while she was down there she took Counsellor Fortune's advice and took up a hobby. ::They both seemed to decide that one involving some form of physical work out would suit her and surfing was what stuck out the most for Caitríona. She grew up very close to the sea and she always adored being in the water, she was a great swimmer and could definitely handle the cold waters and waves. Her attempts to surf on Earth were interesting but it got the job done all the same. She has now returned to the Gorkon with a refreshed purpose - she didn't feel so negative about herself, nor would she want to again. ::So now here she stood in the middle of the Holoarena, feeling like a completely different person - she looked like a different person too, because the woman who stood there was not Caitríona Cayne - she was Caitris. ::Light snow while fell from the sky like a feather that drifts lightly in the breeze, landing in copper hair which was tied tightly into a pony-tail, a braid of intricate patterns which flowed down to the woman's waist. She wore a tightly fitted jumpsuit, green as the lands from which she hailed and golden elven patterns trailed along her curves and edges extenuating the woman's smaller frame. On top of this a white cloak as bright and as white as the snow at their feet, it almost disappeared off her back, blending into the surrounding area. ::She stood at a distance from the others for now, as she tilted her head to look out into the expanse of the forest, her pointed ears would come into the view of anyone who noticed her. They were obviously different from a Vulcan's - they were far more tapered at the top and slightly longer. As the cold snow drifted down and landed onto those tips, her ears twitched - the joys of the twenty-fourth century meant she could make her ears similar to the old descriptions of elves, and that wasn't the only thing different - her eyes were now a bright green similar to her clothes under the cloak, a stark difference to the woman's usual icy blue. After pulling up her hood and facing the others she began to make her way towards them - being an elf, her stealth overall would be far better than it actually was. With the help of the computer, there was no crunch, no sound, nothing, coming from her as she walked to the group. ::Reaching her hand behind and underneath the heavy cloak which draped around her like it was her - she pulled out what looked like a lute, but the item was grotesque, the wood looked rotted and strings, worn. Holding the lute comfortably between her body and arms the woman began to pluck at the strings with her right hand - the left moved along the top, she stroked the item as delicately as it appeared to need. The sound which came from the lute was quiet at first, building up slowly to quite a melodic piece. She could feel her own ears tingling as she played - like energy was gathering, was it coming from her or the lute? Either way, both were needed to create the energy that was emitted. A. Sevo: Welcome, all! MacFarlane: Good t’ be ‘ere. This promises t’ be a good adventure. Adea: I’m excited to be here. ::Caitris (Cayne) who was pacing around the back behind the others, her fingers still plucking gently along with the instrument she held walked towards a woman she hasn't met and the Doctor - Adea. He was the only one in the group she was familiar with, and he even mentioned to Caitríona she should come along on this little adventure of theirs in passing. Now, the small creature which seemed to be the Doctor's - she wasn't so familiar with, the bark from Toto caught her attention and she smiled happily towards him as she continued her pacing. She began to hum gently - this projected the energy she was building slowly out into the air, she could feel some of it die down as she released it, her ears not so sensitive. ::Her hearing after getting these newer ears seemed different, especially from some enhancement from the computer itself. She could hear someone approaching and turned a little in her pace, she saw as the larger woman approached.:: Rhone: Greetings. I am Rhone. Might I join your quest? ::Glancing at the woman - the bright green eyes of the copper headed elf cut through everyone else who stood between them. She was interested in the larger woman, for a moment at least.:: Cayne: Greetings Rhone. A. Sevo: If you’ve got mounts you’d like to use, import ‘em into the program and tack them over by Serenity and Diablo over there. :: She pointed to her white unicorn and Toran’s black horse. :: Behind the sleeping tents, we’ve got tents for blacksmithing, alchemy, and the like if you care to gear up. ::Her attention was now brought back to the leader of their group - she suspected they were the one responsible for their gathering, she was already thankful for that. This was going to be a good adventure.:: MacFarlane: One step ahead o’ yeh. ::She put her fingers to her mouth and let out a piercing whistle:: Aurora! ‘ere girl! ::Out of the woods trotted a second Unicorn. Similar to Serenity, her coat was pure white, however, her mane was shot through with streaks of chestnut and specks of black. Just as Ayiana had reconstructed her Skarbek mount, Tasha had too. Doctor Adea had a brown horse, who quickly trotted up to the stable, alongside a Gypsy Vanner breed of Rhone’s. Her horse was much larger and more muscular than the rest of the mounts, probably to account for Rhone’s size. Out in the distance of the woods, Caitis (Cayne) could hear her horse approaching after she shifted her fingers to create a higher pitch. Once he came towards the clearing the brown horse looked towards it's other and settled, remaining still like a statue as the music became soft again.:: A. Sevo: I’ve got some stew brewing in the campfire. Not sure what’s in it, come to think of it. Tread carefully. MacFarlane: ‘as long as its ‘ot an’ tasty I’m ‘appy. A. Sevo: Dunno. The program started up with it brewing. Think it’s rabbit and potatoes. T. Sevo: :: Having already swiped a bowl. :: Tastes delicious to me. I’ve had much worse. MacFarlane: Response ::Finding her place amongst the others, Caitis (Cayne) who stopped playing the Lute but still continued to hum the tune was finding it easy to integrate and feel comfortable - there were so many strangers but she wasn't Cayne here, plus having Adea - a familiar face helped to. She decided to sit near the Scot, she could tell from her accent - they had a very similar culture after all and that would definitely be a good place to start. She reached out and took a bowl from the larger pot of stew, noticing Genkos giving a smaller bowl to his animal companion.:: Rhone: I have some bread of a sort, could I barter for some stew? A.Sevo: Help yourself. MacFarlane: So, are we stickin’ t’ th’ names we already know each other by, or ‘ave yeh all come up with new ones? A. Sevo: I...hadn’t thought of it. For now, I’m just Ayiana the Mage. T. Sevo: Toran the Righteous! MacFarlane: Well in tha’ case, I am Tasha o’ Clan MacFarlane, fiercest Barbarian in th’ land. Adea: Well, you can call me Genkos, preacher of the faith, healer and this is Toto. ::he barked:: He won’t respond to anything else. Rhone: I am Rhone, The prince’s champion. :: She placed a reassuring hand on the hilt of her falchion. :: A. Sevo: Surprised you didn’t run off with the prince. ::Feeling a bit strange choosing a different name before she came here, Caitris (Cayne), decided to stick to her guns. She was feeling this character and she didn't want to change anything now, before speaking she set down the bowl of stew near her feet. Her hands found the familiarity of the lute again and plucking the strings, taking over from the humming sound.:: Cayne: Well I haven't met some of you - most of you, yet. I am Caitríona Cayne, but for our little adventure - why not call me Caitris, your faithful elven bard. ::She tilted her head to look at the Scottish girl, fighting the instinct to talk to Genkos - she needed to talk to someone she doesn't know, meet new people. That's why she was doing all of this really.:: Cayne: Where in Scotland are you from? MacFarlane: Response Cayne: Oh really? I love Glasgow, it's a beautiful place - and yes, I'm Irish. I am down south near Cobh. ::She nodded with a smile.:: We will have to talk sometime, maybe have a drink after all of this? MacFarlane: Response Adea: So once we’re fed and watered, do we just roam into the forest and see what happens, or do we have a quest? ::That was when her attention was brought to Adea. A quest - it was something that was on her mind too, she was curious what exactly they would be doing, which only added to her excitement.:: A Sevo: I’ve got the program in Sandbox mode for now. Once everyone’s here, I’ll enable questing. We can do just about anything we want here, from saving old ladies from bandits to toppling the Empire. The program is remarkably dynamic. We can just start exploring if we want. I suggest we head down to the nearby village and ask around about any problems. Seems a good way to start. MacFarlane: Response Adea: ::handing round a leather pouch he kept in a thong around his neck:: Anyone want a nip of this before we start. It’s “holy water”. :: Without wasting time, Rhone took Genkos up on his offer, quickly taking a swig of the drink, nearly coughing it back up in the process. The pouch was passed around the group quite quickly. :: Rhone: Consider me blessed. Adea: Bless you child. A. Sevo: Why Father, isn’t drinking a sin? :: She said sarcastically, smirking at Genkos as she took a sip. It burned on the way down, similar to Cory’s moonshine. :: Adea: My backstory doesn't say whether or not I'm a good priest. ::Caitris took the drink next, her left hand coming away from the top of the Lute but her right still plucking away. Seemingly, she was the last person to take a sip from the pouch. Shaking it, it seemed to still be quite full - it was pretty impressive considering how many of them were here.:: Cayne: Is this a magical pouch? ::She asked with a raised eyebrow and smirk on her lips as she handed the pouch back to its owner - completing the circle:: MacFarlane/Adea/Anyone: Response :: Once everyone had arrived and was sufficiently prepared, Ayiana mounted Serenity, who gave a slight neigh. Genkos mounted his own Chestnut, and heaved Toto into his lap. He squirmed and yapped excitedly. Rhone swung and climbed aboard Nakkin, needing to nearly do the splits for the massive warhorse. Caitris (Cayne) disappeared into the edge of the woods and mounted her companion, stepping back into view and now the horse was revealed as it came into the light. His coat was as dark as the shadows of the forest it came from but seemed to shine in the light as it stepped into the open, particularly from the snow which was on its feet. The horse also seemingly, didn't make noise as it trotted, similar to its companion now on it's back. ::She approached the others, she didn't hold onto the reins of the horse - in fact, it seemed he didn't have any. He listened peacefully which she continued to pluck delicately on his back, her melody ever flowing, ever controlling.:: A. Sevo: Computer, disable sandbox and enable questing. ::The chirp of acknowledgement was the only indication that anything had changed. Caitris (Cayne) watched the others as they looked around - particularly, the bigger woman, Rhone. Her hands now began to move faster, the tempo picked up to mark the beginning of their adventure.:: A. Sevo: Alright, let’s go, my merry band of...um… Y’know what, we need a name. ::She slowed the music down again - it wasn't time to go yet, it seemed.:: T. Sevo: The Gorkonites! :: He raised his pipe mace in triumph. He looked around at everyone else, hoping for agreement. :: Anyone? No? Adea: I quite like the Gorkonites. It sounds suitably Arthurian. ::Arthur being an old Terran legend, about whom many many holoscripts had been written.:: MacFarlane/Rhone/Anyone: Response A. Sevo: “Drunk and Disorderly?” Hehe. Rhone: Filthy Casuals….? ::Caitris (Cayne) giggled as they joked about - her laugh, however, blended so well into the music she played, it was barely noticeable.:: MacFarlane/Anyone: Response Adea: Can't we stick to Gorkonites? It's easy to remember, easy on the ear, and it's thematically appropriate. Cayne: I agree - also, I think we should just get on with it. ::She smiled at everyone and plucked at the strings of the lute harder, the tempo picking up again.:: MacFarlane/A.Sevo/T.Sevo: Response Adea: Let's ride! ::And so they set off - Caitris (Cayne), stuck to the back - after letting down her hood to feel the cold air across her face she smiled, looking around and plucking the strings of the lute in her hand. She began to sing - with the help of the computer, just like had this whole time with the lute..:: Cayne: ::Singing:: Io Ihol atten Eitná neme-vîta sílo dínniël iso olth a fasah lamanto dînea! A Hîro Akumunnûn gilthoniëla, lev lionet ia Cúviël! ::Happily singing - she was distracted. Hearing the noise of the others not of their party too late. She stopped dead in her tracks - her voice silenced, the lute now quiet but tense, the strings sounded strained. A small band of raggedy looking troops appeared. They had filth-encrusted armour, and only a few had any kind of metal swords - the rest carried thick sticks, heavy farming tools and one had a bow. The latter was notching an arrow. They were clearly deserters from some kind of army.:: The Bowman: Stop or I shoot! ::Caitris (Cayne) watched as the big one brought out her weapon - although the action was obscured from their potential rivals, it was visible to Caitris from this angle. A subtle note played, the deception lingering in the air.:: Adea: What do we do now? Fight them? ::Watching as Rhone approached, Caitris (Cayne) watched kept her ears perked up - listening for any danger that could be coming in.:: Rhone: We are the Gorkonites, we quest for glory. Join us or make way. If you attempt to stop us, you’ll be nought but carrion in moments! ::Snap - something caught her attention. A branch, a twig, she wasn't sure but an alarming noise all the same. Her horse picked up on this also and let out a deep huff and the note of deception played again.:: Cayne: It's an ambush! Watch your sides! Adea/Rhone/MacFarlane/A.Sevo/T.Sevo: Response ::The hand on her Lute now stuck the strings, flicking along them quickly. Danger approached them and a battle was sure to be the outcome. ::Feeling the energy build-up from the loot like it did when she first took it out, this time it was more intense. It felt like electricity crackled around her head, the snapping noises close to her ears, she could feel the hairs on her body stand up and the ones on her head felt like they were trying to do the same. It felt like her hearing was even more amplified now - she could have sworn she heard what sounded like the draw of a string. ::Like an instinct, she let out a scream, her head snapping towards the woods on her right side. The energy seemed to erupt from her causing a force-field made of electricity to appear for a moment, separating their band of fellows from the enemy. Multiple arrows appeared from the woods and struck the field. -ZAP- Like insects hitting those old Terran machines that drew them in and killed them, the arrows fizzled out of existence. The wall fell and from the forest, the Bandits charged.:: Adea/Rhone/MacFarlane/A.Sevo/T.Sevo: Response Bandits: Response -- Ensign Caitríona Cayne Medical USS Gorkon A238808CH0

Awesome JP's indeed. :-) Well done and congrats to both Quinn and Jo.

@Cory Stoyer is really getting in to his role of jilter lover. Had fun reading this. ((The Vortex, Leisure District, Nassau)) ::Cory was sitting at one of the main bars in the Vortex club. The music was loud and the beat hypnotic. He was watching the crowd behind him using the mirror behind the bar. Cory suggested a plan of action that his team was talking through. To Cory it was a simple thing for him to do.:: Stoyer: We are running out of time, so if anyone has a better idea, I am all ears. Neathler: What Doc said, we're not letting him go in alone. I'll find a way to accompany him if he gets an invitation. And I'll keep the commlink open so you two have a clue of what is going on, once we're inside. ::It made Cory feel better that his team wanted to join him. But they had to get the door open.:: Tereen: Capricious human. Have you considered that she may turn you against us? She may attempt to take you as hostage if any part of your plan fails or, she may not see the need for a hostage and eliminate you immediately. ::Samira looked down towards Doc and Vad who gripped the jammer.:: How far does your plan reach, Dante? Adea: Vad, you have a point, but there are four of us. We work together. Stoyer: Yes, Vad I have thought about it a lot. But I was hoping my team would save me from myself. Tereen: ::Tonelessly.:: I am merely here to ensure that we thoroughly examine any action before taking it. It is illogical to assume any other intent. If we are going through with this…plan, then may I suggest we run a scan of the room—we need a better visualization of the interior as well as the exit routes and the number of occupants. Stoyer: OK, but hurry. Adea: Sensible, but can we triangulate the tricorders we have, gain more accurate readings? Tereen: I considered this earlier. If you allow me to, I will quickly use your tricorder to discreetly send a modification code to Newt’s. Newt, you can then use that to give us eyes inside the room—I am particularly interested in that potential back exit. The jammer is complete. Once Dante has our target in position, I can remotely activate it, disabling any communications and/or transports specific to those signals in and surrounding that room. Neathler: You'll need to bring the jammer with you in case we and our friend move to another location. Stoyer: Good idea. Kinda would like an idea of what I am stepping into. Adea: That’s as safe as we’re going to get. Do it. ::Cory waited at the bar for Vlad to finish her scan. He kept scanning the crowd behind him. Doc's voice came over and got Cory started..:: Adea: Dante, feel free to start ranting and raving about Reynolds whenever you like. Make sure they can hear you. ::Cory nodded and got up from his seat. It would be a bit weird to start ranting all of a sudden. He wandered the floor watching dancers and brushing off the ladies that approached him. Cory slowly headed to a bar near the door as he dared. Sitting at an open stool. The pretty Trill brunette bartender came over. Her outfit did not leave much to the imagination. The question of if the spots went all the way down was answered.:: Trill Bartender: What can I get handsome? ::Cory gave one of his best roguish grins. He saw her cheeks flush a bit.:: Stoyer: Got something to deaden pain and make me forget. Trill Bartender: Sure thing. ::The bartender reappeared quickly enough with a large drink. Taking a sip and sighing out loud. He looked up and saw her staring at him.:: Trill Bartender: Come on baby, tell me what's bothering you. Maybe I can help? ::She flashed a dazzling smile. Cory returned it.:: Stoyer: Thanks, but unless you can turn back time and give me the last 3 years of my life back. Trill Bartender: Oh, do tell. Let me guess a woman? Stoyer: Of course. ::Cory paused dramatically. This almost too perfect. He felt a setup, but plunged in.:: Stoyer: Let's see. My wonderful now ex-wife who knew of my "occupation", didn't mind when she had the best of everything. Romulan ale, silks anything… Being a minor Starfleet officer on a backwater Starbase was bad enough, so why not live a bit. ::The Trill nodded as he continued on.:: Stoyer: All that changed when she was selected as some Admiral's what do you call it……::a snap of fingers.:: aide. Stoyer: Now, her baggage can not be seen, lest it tarnish her Admiral. I met her once. What was her name...Reynolds. Yeah, Admiral Reynolds. An icy stare, I mean frozen. ::Cory was getting into his impromtude story.:: Severe looking. Soooo anyway where was I. Now I am a liability. So a quick divorce and a boot of the Starbase. The ex moves to her wonderful starship….starts with a G….Greg, no….klingonish, Gorkon. That's it. ::Cory was watching the Trill as he spoke. He hoped it was passed off as ogling her, but he wanted to know if the hook was in.:: Stoyer: So, some friends helped me and here I am. Trill Bartender: Baby, a customer needs me, don't go anywhere. ::Cory smiled on the inside.:: Stoyer: I am not going anywhere. ::Cory watched her leave. He continued to watch the crowd behind him. A few moments and the bartender did not appear. Cory started to get worried he over sold it. A shadow fell over him. He saw a very large Orion male standing behind him. Cory turned in his stool and sized the Orion up.:: Stoyer: Can I help you? Orion: Come with me. ::Cory got up off the stool and stood nose to nose with the Orion. The guy needed lessons in bathing.:: Stoyer: Why should I? You are not my type. I was talking to the pretty Trill bartender. Orion: Sir, come with me or I can make you. ::Cory wasn't sure he could. He trained with Lael Rosek and learned to hold his own. But Cory knew the Orion had backup nearby.:: Stoyer: My friends? ::Cory looked around to see if any of them were nearby.:: Orion: Last time come with me. ::With a sigh, Cory nodded. It was a chance to get inside. Cory was going to take it. He hoped his friends would save him.:: Adea/Neathler/Tereen: Response Lieutenant Cory Stoyer Mission Specialist USS Gorkon C239111CS0

Been meaning to post this for a couple of days now. Ensign Arco, (PNPC written by Ferier Kian) a hybrid Bajoran/Cardassian, struggling with her believes and her upbringing, while, adjusting to the life on a Starship. @Ferier This last post got to me somehow. :-) Great writing. (( Cochtois Lagoon Beach - Deluvia IV )) ::After meeting Lachlan Crauw on the beach the pair decided to have a bite to eat. Arco tried to flee believing she wasn’t worthy of having friends or having survived the recent disaster on the USS Njörðr. Having tried to leave and being stopped by Lachlan the pair sat outside chatting.:: Crauw:: Why don't we sit down and you can talk to me, ok. Whatever is on your mind. A burden shared is a burden halved. I wouldn't be a good friend otherwise. Please Jatri, let me help you. ::He guided her towards the bench in the gentle, yet warm breeze.:: Arco: No one can help me Lachlan. I am a half breed who didn't deserve to survive the Njörðr. Forget the finger they should have taken all of me. People died, good people. I wish I could change places with them. Crauw: Lady Jatri, I hope I'm not offending you, but why, as a half breed, don't you deserve to live? What has, who you are, to do with it? Arco: So many people dead, why did I survive what have I done to deserve it. I haven’t done anything and I am sure I won't do anything to make me worthy of life when others got death. ::Jatri took place on the bench and Lachlan sat down next to her. He saw her shivering and, regretting even more now he hadn't brought a shirt along, he put his arm around her shoulders trying to comfort her.:: Crauw: That is the course of life, Lady Jatri. Maybe you survived because you are meant to do something greater in the future, your presence might be required elsewhere to safeguard people from a tragedy we don’t know anything about yet. And yes people died on the Njörðr. But we survived. Don't you think we owe it to those, that did die on the ship, to enjoy our lives at the fullest? Like turning a new page in the book called Life? You said it yourself earlier: you are free to be you. Maybe what happened on the Njörðr was needed for you to reach that new chapter in your life. Arco: Maybe I should resign Starfleet and open a bar here instead. At least that way I won’t see so many people die. ::Lachlan's brow raised a notch.:: Crauw: My dear Jatri, I’m sure the bartender on the Njörðr would disagree with you there. :: Lachlan winked at her but his words hit home. It seemed in the dangerous universe no job was safe Crauw: You know lady Jatri. A Klingon saved my life on the Njörðr. I wouldn't show much respect towards the man if I just gave up, would I now? Arco: I don’t want to give up, I don’t understand why anyone, least of all you, would bother with someone like me. Crauw: What I'm trying to say is: there are more half breeds out there and they manage. And I have every confidence that you can too. If people have some common sense, they would look beyond what race someone is and see that person for what they truly are. Arco: On Bajor, unless I am in the sect I see the looks they give me, the disgust. Cardassians have the same look. Crauw: Like what I see now: a beautiful young lady, who has a whole life ahead of her to do the things she wants to do. Things she didn't have the opportunity to do before in her life. A lovely lady, who likes a quiet afternoon on the beach, reading a book or have a swim amongst sea creatures. A lady who meets new people, who she can call friends. I'd say that's worth living for, isn't it? ::Still embracing her shoulders he saw her ponder for a moment.:: Arco: Help me Lachlan, I don’t know how to do those things, I don’t know how to fit in. Crauw: I'd say you are already doing a good job now, lady Jatri. You decided to come to the beach. Otherwise I'd be sitting here, talking to myself. Imagine the looks that would have given me? ::He winked again as he said the words.:: Arco: I want to live Lachlan not just exist. Not to be the oddball or a mongrel. Crauw: One step at the time, lady Jatri. Today the beach and see where it leads you tomorrow, and the day after and the day after that. Arco: How do we cope with so many deaths Lachlan? Crauw: I don't know, miss Jatri. Some people turn to the bottle to forget what they saw. Others tend to do good to those that survived, in memory of those that were lost. Others tend to live their life at the fullest every single day, cause they know tomorrow could or might be their last. It all depends on the situation someone is in. All I know is, that the feeling will diminish but it will take time. Some days will be easier than others. Arco: I hope it does Lachlan. ::He looked at her again.:: Crauw: What also helps, is to talk about it, lady Jatri. Bottling things up is never a good thing. :: That went against everything she was taught. Growing up in the sect you were encouraged to keep private thoughts private. They were between you and the prophets. How could she take nearly 20 years of teaching and shed them like a snake shed it’s skin.:: Arco: How? Crauw: ::He shrugged.:: Some prefer to talk to a stranger, that's why most people open up to the bartenders after a few drinks, knowing they open up to someone they most likely will never see again. Or maybe you'd prefer to talk to someone who has actually been there with you on the Njörðr? Seek those people out, they have seen what you did out there, they've seen what you've seen, it will give them and you something to relate to. And maybe it'll give you the opportunity to become friends with them? Arco: You make it sound so simple. ::She smiled a little.:: Crauw: Also milady,:: He smiled at her.:: you're no longer alone. If you need a chaperone or just someone to stand beside you, don't hesitate to find me. Arco: And when you aren’t pouring drinks where will you be Lachlan? Crauw: Response :: Buoyed up a little by Lachlan and his extremely kind words. He certainly seemed genuine. No one had ever shown an interest like this before. Used to being shunned by other crew members with what she now knew was a good reason it was time to start anew. It would be a sad way to repay those lost brothers and sisters on the USS Njörðr to revert to the old Arco she needed a rebirth. To be the person she wanted to be. It was time for Arco Jatri part two. Impulsively she reached up to her earring. This was one given to her by the sect before today one thing she valued above all else. Now it was the second most valuable thing Lachlan had replaced it an honest to goodness friend. She removed it and held it in her hand the metal was warm to touch and filled her with mixed feelings. Shyly she handed it to Lachlan.:: Arco: A gift for you Lachlan my friend. :: She savoured the word as she spoke it. It felt good to have a friend on the Gorkon. No matter where she went or what she did, no matter how many friends she had she would value Lachlans friendship above them all.:: Crauw: Response Arco: Please take it. Today is a new start and giving a gift to you will make me feel good as I hope it will make you happy. :: Arco smiled. She could replicate a standard Bajoran earring when she got back to the Gorkon. She would go for a plain design one not just for the prophets but for herself. New start new Arco new earring. It made sense to her.:: Crauw: Response Arco: You have given me something much more valuable. Crauw: Response :: Arco smiled again as Lachlan closed his hand around it almost as if he was scared to lose it. With her heart filling with joy. Who would have believed the simple act of giving was so rewarding.:: Arco: I think it’s getting late. I might go back to the hotel and sleep. Would you care to join me tomorrow so we can go swimming with the fishes together tomorrow? Crauw: Response Ensign Arco Jatri Mission Specialist simmed by -- Lieutenant (JG) Ferier Kian HCO Officer USS Gorkon G239501FL0

Well whatever they're playing, it looks rather familiar somehow, somewhere @Jo Marshall. ((Cargo Bay, Deck Six, USS Gorkon)) ::Vorin sat in his regular chair - the spot he always took up when it came to gaming night - however, that night was unlike any other. For the first time, the group would not be playing. Chris was away, and as the regularly scheduled Dungeon Master, the plot would surely take a downward spiral if anyone else were to step into his shoes. Not that Vorin wasn't tempted. He had long, concocted plans of how *he* would run a game one evening if he was given the opportunity to do so, but for some incomprehensible reason, there had been some reluctance to run through the "dungeon" of the Vulcan Science Academy initiation program. ::He looked up as the door opened. His colleague Jimothy - Human, no last name, apparently like a twentieth-century entertainer - strode inside, accompanied by Sen Baidan and Robert Peek, bringing with them a host of replicated food in trays that would have sustained their appetites for the evening. Vorin huffed with an exhale from his nose. Clearly, his informational message had not been received.:: Vorin: Chris is not--- Jimothy: We know. We figured we'd do something else, ja? ::His shoulders shrugged up and slipped into the chair usually reserved for the Petty Officer, chewing noisily on a slice of something crusted, dropping crumbs onto the makeshift container table. Vorin squinted his eyes at him for a long moment, trying to work out if the known-Casanova was about to elaborate on the comment. Evidently not. He turned to Baidan.:: Baidan: We have a new game. Peek: It's a good one! I've been playing for days. ::He smiled, chewing on something just as crusty, talking around the noise.:: There's no board though. Vorin: I fail to see the--- Baidan: It is about the Nyberrite Alliance. ::Vorin's ears [...]ed up and the corners of Sen's lips turned upwards.:: I thought that may be agreeable to you. Vorin: Elaborate. ::The tone was an inquisitive one, not demanding, and as Sen sat himself down at their table, he slid his PADD across the top. On it was a series of messages, no one unlike the other, with a flow of text styles and formatting that seemed to make little sense. Vorin picked it up, and with a frown, began to read through it.:: Jimothy: Ja, there's like... ::Another crunch. Vorin felt he would need to kill him.:: ...characters, right. You make a character and then you write their story, and others reply. Vorin: "Others reply?" ::The air quotes were as evident in his gentle Vulcan tonal range. His eyes darted to the PADD again as several more messages started to filter in, each one of them seemed to further the plot of whatever had captured the fancy of this group of players. Pilots, engineers, tacticians; someone had written for a pirate, a captain, and someone else had written a scientist. Vorin frowned, wondering what the Nyberrite Alliance had use of a scientist for.:: Vorin: Who are the other players? Jimothy: Ja, everyone! ::He flung his arms out, slapping the crusty food nodule into Peek's head, though it was like throwing rocks at a mountain.:: Lower decks mainly, but we think that... ::He scratched his face.:: Rob, what's the guy called? ::Peek, who had been scratching at an invisible itch somewhere in the air around his bicep, seemed to brighten at being asked for his contribution to the conversation.:: Peek: Lieutenant Kian? Jimothy: Ja, that's him. We think he is writing for Streak - the pulsar pilot and interplanetary war veteran. There is a shirt ripped almost every campaign. Baidan: I do have a character free if you would like to take it over. He does only speak in haikus, however. ::The frown hadn't yet slid from Vorin's face as he flicked through the reams of messages coming through in the PADD. It was anonymous - no one entered their actual name to their messages but signed off as their character. Passing the PADD back over to Sen, he tapped momentarily on the top of it and inquired.:: Vorin: Why the Nyberrite Alliance? ::Sen brightened again, ears wiggling, which was as usual unnerving, though Vorin would not be able to articulate why and refused to give much thought to it.:: Baidan: It is a Space Adventure! Vorin: You live, and work, in space. Peek: Yeah but this is fun! I mean, this is pretty dull, isn't it? Going to a conference. It's not like the ship is being molested by an energy tentacle, or being attacked by pirates, or hitting space icebergs, or... Vorin: There is no such thing as a space iceberg. Peek: ...battling barbarian aliens from the outer rim, or crawling over shipwrecks, or ghost towns, or plague-infested towns, or attacks on Station Aspodèle, or everything is on fire, or... ::Vorin angled an eyebrow. Perhaps it would be interesting. At least until Chris returned from his supposedly tedious excursion to New Horizon.:: ---- NPCs The Role Players Crewman Jimothy, Scientist Ensign Sen Baidan, Comms Specialist PO Third-Class Robert Peek, Engineering Yeoman Lieutenant JG Vorin, Biologist simmed by Lt. Commander Jo Marshall First Officer USS Gorkon G239304JM0

Woot! Another Dutchman. :-) Welcome to Starbase 118 Yoerik.

Well, earlier this week a crazy idea popped in my head: hey, why don't you start simming again? So a google-search brought me to this place. Learned simming years ago in another fleet which means it will take some adjustment to the way simming is done here, as it's a bit different. Anyway it's been three years since the last sim I was on, closed its doors due to several circumstances. And now I'll see where the stars will bring me and my character. :-P