VLen Kel

@Quentin Beck we’re gonna have fun.

@LuxaLorana This is gorgeous in a very dark way.

FATALITY!!

@Quentin Beck @Marty Tucker Really? I have some concerns about this pair.

Nope.

@Alora DeVeau aww thanks.

@Karrod Niac nice nod to Niac's previous host who was a chef. Subtle but good.

V’Len: ::walks away quickly::

She may need some.

USS Oumuamua crew went to "day's of future's past" to bring V'Len Kel's previous host Xam Kel forward from 2260 to 2400 for this years Awards. Xam brought his wife Imovella Sh'Ezarhess along for the fun. Xam sports a "Bill Ware", spy holonovel inspired, black tuxedo. Imovella wears an Andorian satin gown by "Theiss".

Bright sunshine flooded the streets. Only half a block away everything became a shifting blur in the heat. A bus sat on the side of the road, its passengers - most of them well over a hundred years old - sat on the curb and on benches nearby. Rox pushed her way past two very sweaty old ladies,nearly knocking them to the pavement. “ Jeezuz girl!” one geriatric hollered after her. “Why don’t you mind your manners?” Fifteen year old Roxanne Queen had no time for manners. Rox was tempted to turn around and give the pair of grannies a gesture, but decided against it. It was too damn hot even for that. Her face was flush from the heat. Her black silk shirt clung to her torso, and her feet felt like they would burst in her boots. She sat down on a planter and lifted off her wire frame sunglasses. “Shit!” she commented to no one in particular. She looked up and down the street. Traffic crawled by as if it were stuck to the road. So backwards was Turkana 4 that vehicles still traveled on the ground on rubber tires. Old men in white t-shirts sat sprawled on the steps of apartment buildings. A few groups of young kids marauded the streets kicking up dust and stones. Rox began to unlace her thick black boots. She sat her sunglasses next to her until she finally succeeded in wrestling her feet out of the boots. Rox hesitated to pull off her damp socks, but peeling them off she placed them inside the boots. Picking up the boots and replacing the sunglasses she resumed her journey. Nothing had changed. People and vehicles sat in the same places as if the heat had ironically frozen them in place. Rox lit a cigarette and took a long pull. “I must be going crazy,” she sighed. “Tommy, when I get to you, you’re in deep shit.” The precinct was another two blocks away. The kid was going to get it, she promised herself. It was bad enough he had to talk to those pushers, let alone hang around them. If Momma found out, they’d both be in trouble. Ahead of her Rox saw a group of guys. She recognized them, not from school, but from the street. Often they found their way to her complex on Friday nights, drawn by many things and welcomed by Tommy. “Hey, Foxy Roxy,” said the tallest of the bunch. Turk, if she remembered correctly. “What’s a fine, fine girl doing on this fine, fine day?” “Save it for someone who cares, Turk,” she said with mocking disdain. She waved her cigarette past his face for effect. “I’m not planning to give you the time of day.” The group of boys exploded in laughter at Turk’s expense and Rox smiled with satisfaction. Turk’s expression turned to a scowl and he rushed forward, grabbing her arm. “Watch your tone, girl,” he hissed. He pulled out a wad of credits and waved it in front of her. “If you want some of this.” Rox toyed with the idea of taking the money and making a run for it, but there were two problems. First, she was barefoot. Second, Turk himself was not impressive, but his older brothers ran with violent gangs. “Look, Turk,” she smiled. “If you think I’m gonna roll over for your money, you can think again about how desperate I am.” She hauled her arm out of his and hurried away. A soft chuckle rippled through the group of boys who hurried off when Turk once again turned to face them. She really needed to stop doing that. Turkana 4 was not the place for it. Then again, she knew no other way to survive. Her parents had moved on without her and she had moved from place to place trying to eek out an existence. She was not alone. Her current home was with Momma, an older woman. She was always in a foul mood and had a harsh temper, but she gave 11 of them shelter and food. It was home enough for Rox. She continued up the next block, stepping gingerly to avoid any stones or other debris. Walking past the fence of the large junkyard that abutted the road, the roar of Bulldozer, the junkyard guard dog, took her by surprise. Bulldozer was the nastiest dog Rox had ever seen and he guarded the scrap yard like a prized piece of meat. He ran along next to her, growling and drooling until a piece of scrap metal finally blocked his path. She turned back to leer at the beast. “Stupid dog,” she scoffed. Suddenly a portly, balding man rolled into view. He was sweating more than anyone she’d ever seen. He was the scrapyard owner, but Rox could not recall his name. He spoke in a sort of monotone wine. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” The junk man droned. “Yes,” Rox replied sarcastically. “Especially if you’re into having strokes.” “Pardon?” “It’s great!” Rox shouted. “Oh wonderful,” the little man chortled, wiping his sweating head with a napkin. “I’m glad someone’s enjoying it. I can’t take this kind of heat these days. I’ve had five strokes you know.” “ Great,” Rox replied quietly. She resumed her journey down the street paying no attention to the old oaf who was saying something about his dog. She peered back down at her now dusty feet. She’d spent quite a bit of time painting her toenails. There was no real reason for it, but she liked having something in her life change from time to time. The bright colors she chose were a stark contrast to the rest of her world. Her little secret dab of brightness next to the blight around her. A hulking transport rolled out of a warehouse lot in front of her. She paused to let it pass before resuming her journey. “Aah!” she screeched as her foot fell on a sharp stone. She flopped down on the grass in front of a brown brick building, threw her boots aside and began to examine her foot. There was a welt where she’d stepped on the stone, but nothing else. “What a baby,” she chided. In the wavy heat a little further on she saw the precinct building. She picked up her boots and walked on. She came to a red light, but lowered her purple tinted sunglasses to confirm its color. The prized glasses perpetually changed the hue of her surroundings and she was constantly having to check to see what color things actually were. Like her toenails they represented a splash of individuality to mark her out from the hordes of other youth. Coming up the building she regarded the Starfleet logo. They had only recently returned and only provided basic security services to the citizens. Turkana 4 continued to be run by Turkana 4’s people. She started up the steps just as a blond officer was bringing out two rough looking men. They were undoubtedly bound for the central detention center. The cool tile in the building was a welcome relief to Rox’s hot feet, and would have been heaven to stand on and enjoy had it not been so late in the day. Momma would be home soon and if Tommy was not present she was sure to freak out. “Hey!” a stern man standing behind a counter bellowed at her. “No shoes, no service. Don’t you read, girl?” “Oh Max,” Rox moaned in her sweetest possible voice. She sauntered over to the counter. “Please, oh, please don’t arrest me.” She began to feign a sob, drawing the attention of other officers. “Rox,” He said, gesturing for her to come closer. “Have you come to cause me more trouble than your family already has today?” He regarded her with stern, yet gentle eyes. “Can’t take a joke, can you?” She said, “So, where’s my brother? I’ve got money, I’m assuming the rates haven’t changed.” Rox began to dig through her boot until she withdrew a moist piece of paper currency. She placed it on the desk in front of Max. “First of all, I don’t know if I want that where it’s been,” he sighed. “Secondly I can’t let your brother out. It’s the third time this week.” “Aw c’mon Max. It's 180 degrees out there, I’ve been walking for 6 blocks. Give me a break, okay?” She was both angry and disheartened, but the office was not giving in. “I’m sorry, but he’s gotta stay.” Max growled. “You never made a tiny little mistake when you were a kid?” “No.” “Oh bullshit!” she erupted. “ C’mon, Max. You know my mom will kill you and me if Tommy gets in trouble, if he’s not there when she gets home.” Her eyes were watery and she stared up at him with her best puppy dog eyes. “Please, Max. Give me a break this one time.” “Oh, cripe, not those eyes.” Max shook in frustration and scooped up the money. “Hodgkins! Get the kid out of 23 and get him up here.” Rox smiled. She strolled quietly over to a bench and began putting her boots back on. By the time she finished Tommy stood before her. She stood to glower at him. “C’mon, you!” She spat. They walked out again into the blazing sun. It was late and mother would be home soon. Rox looked down at the boy next to her. “You’re going to wish they put you in solitaire when I’m done with you.” Tommy remained silent. “What, not talking? You’re lucky I came down, Momma would have killed someone.” “Whatever,” Tommy mumbled. “Keep going like this, you'll end up dead one night.” Tommy continued to look at the ground in silence. Neither spoke a word as they marched home. Arriving back at the apartment she shared with Momma and her ten “siblings”, she regarded its state. It was warm and humid, and the kitchen was in turmoil. Whoever was supposed to clean up had not done so. Rox ached to sit down, rest her feet and cool off, but Momma did not like a dirty kitchen. She had given the last of her meager pay to Max in order to free Tommy and now it seemed she would need to clean the kitchen as well. Picking up a pot she rinsed it and began to scrub, but the residue was well stuck. It would take hours to clean. Rox leaned back against the counter. It was all so frustrating. She lived the same day, everyday. Sure, some details changed, she could paint her toenails, but ultimately she was stuck in an endless loop. The anger bubbled up within her. She slammed a fist on the counter and in an instant the kitchen returned to its clean state. In fact it was too clean. Rox began to panic. She wasn’t supposed to do that. If the other kids or Momma knew about her… abilities it would be awful. It would be another home she’d have to flee. She didn’t know how or why she could do such feats, but when people found out things did not go well. Even her parents could not resist exploiting her powers. The room was quiet for a moment apart from Rox’s quivering breath. Then she heard the heavy labored breathing of Momma. Turning around Rox saw the crone leering at the door, her pasty skin glistened in the apartment’s dull light. “Oh poppet,” Momma hissed. “It’s true then. You are charmed” She began to hobble over to her. Rox was frightened. “No, Momma, no, that wasn’t me at all.” “Oh yes it was. And I have some more things I need.” Reaching out like lightning, Momma seized the hair on the side of Rox’s head and pulled it down to her. “I have a long list and you’re going to help me” The old woman trembled with excitement. “I’ve finally come to the end of my poverty and I’ve found another beginning,” she sang giddily. Rox was in tears. “No, Momma.” She tried to pull away, but the pull of her hair stopped her. Instead she rushed toward the ancient woman and they both fell to the ground and the old woman released her grasp. Rox scrambled to her feet and sailed out of the apartment. Her sunglasses, her boots, her nail polish were all left behind. After an hour she stopped running and collapsed onto a park bench. The baking heat of the sun was gone, replaced by heat rising from the scorched ground. She faced down at the pavement and watched as her tears plopped to the ground. Her parents were gone and now so was the home with Momma and Tommy. Was there any place left to go? She heard a soft clicking on the sidewalk and lifted her head with great effort. A tall, elegantly dressed woman strode up. She had deep auburn hair and her eyes seemed to have a fire of their own. “Here you are child,” she smiled. “Remind me of your name” “I’m nobody,” Rox retorted. “Everyone is somebody. Anyone who understands that thought is the basis for reality is not a nobody.” The woman spoke sweetly and then reached her hand. “Come on Rox, come with me.” She had no idea where the woman had come from, but she had no other plans. She reached up her hand and prepared to lift her head and stand when she felt an almost electrical shock flow over her. When she looked up the hot streets of Turkana 4 were gone. A bright sun was shining down on her, but gone was the overbearing heat. Instead a cool gentle breeze swept past her. On her left was an immense red bridge which spanned a body of water larger than she’d ever dreamed of. Off to the right a city filled with gleaming towers sprawled away in the distance. Above her swept all sorts of craft, some of which were similar to the ones the Starfleet officers used. People nearby laughed and chatted as they wandered through green grass and trees. Not only had the scenery changed, but her beloved boots were back on her feet and her purple sunglasses were on her nose. She took them off to take in the scene with her own eyes. “Where are we?” Rox looked at the woman expectantly. “This is the city of San Francisco, on the planet Earth in the Sol system.” The woman looked over to her and smiled. “And I believe this is where your future lies.”

Give it time Ossa. Give it time.

Criminal really? I'm not selling death sticks or anything.

Omnipotent yahoos am I right?

Tyber showing off his Klingon side. Very nice.

@Kammus Corelli I think this is why I play this game.

@Etan Iljor the inconveniences of the 23rd century.

Bureaucracy, a universal constant under all circumstances.

@Wes Greaves ouch man. I can be insubordinate without being wild. 😂

Katsim is speechless. 😆

I too would like to join the FNS team. I'm Don, I write for V'Len Kel of the USS Oumuamua. Thanks!

It's a question we're all asking. Well done @Toz

Jack Kessler you old charmer you.

Toz is not having any of it. This must be the Starfleet equivalent of washing your hair.

Me with a 16 year old daughter ::facepalm::