Avander Promontory

I was just going to post this sim here as well! It was a great build-up and pay-off. AND managed to navigate profound personal character changes while also still engaging with the wider plot and moving the scene forward!

Nailed it!

In a months long slow burn, @Toxin Arlill's main character has been playing host to another consciousness of unknown intentions. As this entity has taken more and more influence over our Toxin's thoughts and behaviors (And remained unknown to the other characters) the audience has grown increasingly anxious. In this sim (during a time-traveling mission) the entity (HENRI) makes a fateful decision and asks big questions:

This is now canon. @Morro Caras and @Kimonzi Lahl with strong simming

SEE! SEE! @Jack Kessler and @VLen Kel; Avander still looks young! @Margaret Walker gets it! [After Jack and V'Len both made comments about Avander having some gray hairs last shore leave, I was going to do a sim where Avander self-consciously checks his hair in a holomirror, but didn't get around to it ]

@Josh Herrick is one of our most underrated writers. His prose is full of fun little nuggets that enhance the reading experience.

Nicely played @Morro Caras!

Our Bolian science officer making a Klingon blush! >> (( Corridor, Deck 5, USS Octavia E Butler )) << Yinn had fantasized about spending the night with a Klingon since watching Dominion War holovids about Worf as a girl. So she really had no one to blame but herself for how sore she felt this morning. She lay in her cot in the lab for well over an hour, trying to convince herself that she'd be fine, before she finally broke down and limped over to sickbay. Miash was a pal, she'd be understanding. >> (( Sickbay, Deck 5, USS Octavia E Butler )) << Miash: It’s not her fault, you should really be more careful about what you eat my dear. Most Bolian beverages are toxic to non-bolian species. (beat) I think you’re lucky, a lesser being would already be dead. Bolian beverages? Had someone gotten into her stash of ferlic acid? Besides her and... That Klingon. He was here, lying in the biobed. She knew her acidic bodily fluids meant romance wasn't in the cards with most species, but she had assumed Klingons were made of tougher stuff. Loq: Very few things are toxic to Klingons. How was I to know? Miash: =/\= Computer, cancel request for urgent medical doctor to sickbay. =/\= Loq: Do I not need a doctor? Or am I past the point of needing a doctor? Miash: I’m messing with you ensign, you’ll be fine. Miash retreated to the replicator, “Treatment 157b-alpha, liquid form, 30 mL.” She returned with a vile of green liquid… Miash: Here, drink this, it should help. Loq: You! Yinn tried her best to look innocent. Yinn: So, ah... sorry about last night... Loq glowered at her. Yinn: I mean, I had a great time last night! Sorry about this morning! If it makes you feel any better, I'm also in a lot of pain right now. Loq: That does make me feel better. Was he trying to be funny? It was one of the first things that caught her attention in the science lab; Loq's sense of humor was so dry he was basically daring you to figure out if he was making a joke or not. Miash: response Yinn: I was hoping we could apply some doctor-patient confidentiality to my own intense discomfort. But are you sure it was something he drank and not just, uh... being with me? My body chemistry is an irritant to humans and a lot of other species. I figured Klingons would be less affected, but maybe he's more affected? Am I toxic to Klingons? Loq: We did lose track of what we were drinking after a certain point. Miash: response Yinn: Is there any way to tell? Can you run some tests? She looked at Loq quizzically, and then caught herself. If she wanted to see him again romantically, probably best not to start thinking of him as another science project. Yinn: But, you know, give him the medicine first. Loq: I am happy to lie here in agony while you satisfy your curiosity. Miash: response Yinn: Oh, poor you. I thought Klingons were supposed to be all stoic! Loq: My injuries are not exactly from a glorious battle. Yinn: I seem to remember you had a few moments of glory last night. Loq looked like he was trying to sink into the biobed. Yinn remembered something she had read about Klingons. There was no way you were ever going to beat one in a fight, but if you could make a Klingon blush, they were helpless. Miash: response TBC / Tags! Ensigns Yinn & Qurgh'Loq Science Officer / Starfleet Diplomatic Corps USS Octavia E Buttler NCC-82850 Writer ID.: O240011Y12

Glad to have Anton back!

Points for nailing the original intended pronunciation?

@Josh Herrick provides a lovely side vignette of refugee characters while the officers are off discussing matters: ((Refugee War Room ( Mission Specific Module ), Deck 7, USS Octavia E Butler)) The conference leader, Promontory, had let the group take a short reprieve after settling some of the more immediate demands from the team. The universe would be bland if everyone was the same, but still some of these people were a bit much to stomach. Cliques had already started to form; each with their own wants and motivations. Could she blame them? Donda: (murmuring while looking out to space) A small detour. As she stared into the void, she felt goosebumps on her skin, and turned to see what triggered them and instinctively stepped backwards. There was a man, just slightly too close for comfort. Grunk: Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just (looking back) wanted to find a quiet corner during the break, and you didn’t seem to be the ‘chatty’ type of the group. Donda wasn’t sure if that was a statement, insult, or compliment, but true to his words, didn’t respond. Instead, she looked him up and down. He was about 7 feet tall; he almost towered over her small five-foot frame. His skin pitch black, like space, and his eyes were blood red, the same as the dress that she was wearing. She’d not seen him in the mines, and the closest she’d seen to someone of his race were the old fictional recordings of demons. His attire was white leather, creating a sharp but elegant contrast. Grunk: (clearing his throat) So, what does your group want? Small talk, manners, social niceties; these things seemed to have returned to the others faster than Donda. Donda: (bluntly) Freedom. Grunk: While we’re there now, thanks to these… stylistically challenged folk. What they lack in fashion sense they’ve certainly made up for in their liberation skills. Donda: (glancing him over again) Are you sure you weren’t just coming here to check out your reflection? The tall figure’s expression turned to one of mock hurt. Grunk: I find that when you want to be respected, or get something, you need to look the part. Wear rags and you’ll probably get dumped off at the first stop. Don’t judge too harshly, it’s politics rather than vanity. Donda: So, what are you lobbying for then? Grunk: To be honest, I could care less about the group that I’m representing. I didn’t ask for this; I just tend to stick out amongst the bunch. We had a small settlement in the mountains; escapees from the mines that were living in fear each day, praying that they wouldn’t be discovered. (beat) That fear, that distrust, has continued onboard. I think they’d be perfectly fine with some sort of refugee as long as they’re kept together. Donda: And you? Grunk: I’m not sure… Fate tends to choose for me; I just go along for the ride. ::glancing down at her dress and then back at her:: So, what made you choose this? Donda: (offering a small smile) Fate. He wasn’t what she was expecting, not a demon, nor vain. Just someone trying to play the odds for the best possible outcome and Donda could respect that. Grunk: How about you and your ‘group’? Donda: Most want to return to their home worlds. I don’t think they feel ready to make it out on their own and will be rather distrusting of others for quite some time. Grunk: And you’ll return home as well? Donda: (abruptly) No. There was no delay from her mind to her mouth. Even though she didn’t know where she was heading, she knew she wasn’t going back to the Teplan system. Donda: (looking back out the viewport) That seems like backtracking; I’m not sure. Grunk: ::stepping beside her:: I see. And the tone carried in his voice made Donda think that he really did get what she meant. The two stood there in silence for a few moments. Donda could feel head radiate off the man. Donda: oO His species must have a higher metabolism. Oo In that moment, Donda felt her former self scratching at the surface — the scientist she was is. She noticed Grunk's smile, was he an empath or just enjoying the moment?. It was brief though, as sirens started blaring with some sort of alert. There must be something wrong with the translator software as she wasn’t sure why the officers would fear the colour yellow, particularly since one of them was wearing it. What did fate have in store for them? --- Donda Quasi-Representative of Refugees O240005JH3

@Josh Herrick It's the root beer, it's insidious!

Great deadpan humor moment.

@Josh Herrick with a delightful and thoughtful entrance of a NPC

Now the REAL trial begins.... MUWAHAHAHAHA! <ahem> I mean, welcome to the fleet!