Alora DeVeau

My father in law is a genetic therapist. He's kept all sorts of things in his freezer!

After coming back from temporal shenanigans, meeting strange faces that are strangely dressed make one paranoid that there are still people suffering from time displacement. Well...not quite.... IC: ((Outside Upper Holodecks, Deck 7, USS Octavia E. Butler)) Varic: …Honestly, I thought you were the women my friend here has been trying to recruit to play succubi for our session. So I just shot. ::he shrugs:: I did think you were dressed oddly, but... why were you chasing him? Forsyth: A what, no? Nis: Some ancient human monster, right? Katsim: I don’t know…we’re not these…succubi. None of them were familiar? He gave a dramatic disappointed sigh as if knowing they were missing out on some crucial experience, he pitied them almost. Lenie: I don’t recognize them. And they’re Officers, Var! Forsyth: You don’t recognise Commander Katsim? Commander Katsim? He blinked before looking at Lenie and gave a little shrug. Varic: No? ::He clears his throat:: I work in the morgue. It’s usually a good thing if I haven’t seen you. One of the few jobs no one in the medical department really wanted to take on. Mortuary sciences however was his specialty. Lenie: Response Nis: Oh. Well that settles it. You’re definitely from the Butler, alright. Katsim: That’s good to know. Forsyth: Sorry, we thought you were a misplaced stowaway. He gave a little wave of his hand as if to dismiss the entire situation. Varic: It’s fine, we can’t expect everyone to recognize the difference between an elf and vulcan ::he adjusts a pendant on his chest:: Usually this magic sigil is the big indicator if someone knows the game we’re playing or not, it's very popular on earth. Ah, those academy days of plotting synchronized holodeck check outs to get an entire weekend camp out without having to leave campus. He missed those days. Nis: A magic … what? Lenie: : Response Forsyth: It's alright, Lieutenant. Varic: We have room if you wanted to join, a few folks who usually join us needed a break after the whole… incident, and need to spend more time in… ::finger quotations:: reality. Lenie: Response Nis: Well, can you give us the bow and arrow? We’d like to see it. He looked at Lenie then shrugged before offering the bow to Jania. Unexpectedly they’d knock the arrow, turn and shoot him straight in the chest. Honestly, he should have expected that. Nis: That’s what you get for shooting me! Varic: Lenie… don’t you dare roll damage. ::Clearing his throat:: We.. we need to get back to the holodeck and use what time we have left. ::taking his bow back, he dramatically flipped the cape behind him his accent returning:: We must tary no longer, Swiftfeet, let us away! Lenie/Forsyth: Response Nis: Just don’t get hurt. Their voices became a distant sound. Once more the thought of adventure and heroics consumed the half-bajoran’s thought. No longer was he Varic Rion. He was the bane to those that stalked the night. A hunter of his kindred. He was Xerxes Nightwalker. He was the Hero of this story… And Lenie er… Swiftfeet was there too. [End scene for Varic] Lieutenant JG Varic Rion Science Officer USS Octavia E. Butler Played by: -- Lieutenant JG Sevantha Saa Counselor USS Octavia E. Butler A240105SS2

(ooc: just a one-off solo sim. I wanted to put a capstone on Yinn and Loq's entanglement, but it needed to be a private moment between the two.) Yinn held it together. Bolians didn't let down the group. And Starfleet officers didn't let their feelings get in the way of the mission. So she held it together, fighting cutists, evading the Borg, getting the crew safely back to their own time. She held it together going to sickbay, confirming nearly everyone had made it back. She held it together through debriefing. Promontory placed her on leave and she barely managed to say more than "aye, sir," but she managed. She somehow held it together all that time, through the yawning chasm of loss she felt. She had lost half of herself. Half of her body, half of her mind, half of her soul. What was left? She knew, objectively, medically, scientifically, things were back to normal. But she had never felt less normal in her life. Her thoughts were sluggish. Her body was unbalanced. And she couldn't remember what she couldn't remember. She had flashes of her parents on Hitorah, a vague sense of how it felt to be stabbed during warrior training, just flashes, bits and pieces. Even the last mission wasn't clear. She was at a party, she was in the science lab, she was threatening someone, it was all a blur. Her head was swimming since the jump through time, and yet she held it together. Until the moment she walked into her quarters and saw Qurgh'Loq waiting for her, and her heart turned to water and her vision went blurry and she fell into his arms, arms that used to be her arms, pressed her face into a chest that used to be her chest, and broke down sobbing like she had never done even as a child. The whole ocean poured from her eyes, her whole body turned to water and evaporated, and yet there she still was, her body clinging to a body that was no longer hers. Qurgh'Loq: I feared you were dead. Yinn gazed into his eyes. Everything she had been holding back all day, he had been too. Yinn: So did I. That moment that we — that we weren't us. I was terrified the worst had happened. Qurgh'Loq: I suppose us separating safely is not the worst outcome. Yinn knew, logically, that was true. Would she have spent her whole life sharing a mind? Leaving Qurgh'Loq on his own with half his mind and body gone when she died? It was better this way for so many reasons, but it didn't feel that way. Yinn: I know, but it doesn't feel right to not be... you. Us. Qurgh'Loq stared into her eyes for an eternity. Qurgh'Loq: I... I do not know how to feel. It wasn't easy for him to talk about how he felt. But she understood him. She was him. Or at least, she had been. She slipped her hand into his, and pressed her forehead against his. Yinn: Even if we're not together, you will always be part of me. Qurgh'Loq squeezed her hand tightly. Her fingernails dug into her palm enough to draw blood. She knew her acidic blood was stinging his fingertips, and she understood now why pain was satisfying to Klingons. When a moment was important, you wanted to feel it, in the moment and long afterwards. They had pictured this moment many times, when they were still of one mind, and had no doubts that if they had to live separate lives, they would live them together. Qurgh'Loq: JIH dok. My blood. Yinn: Maj dok. Our blood. Qurgh'Loq: Tlinghan jIH. Yinn: Tlinghan jIH. I am Klingon. There were more elaborate vows, but at heart those were the only words that mattered. Our blood. The two of us are one. They would have a formal wedding someday, once they met a few other people, enough for a proper family. She would share her bed with who knows how many others, and would encourage him to put his Klingon stuffiness aside and do the same. But she and Loq shared a bond few others could understand. She would care about other people, love other people, but Loq was part of her in a way no one else could ever be. After sharing one mind, consummating their vows in any physical way seemed insufficient. No matter how close they got, it would never be quite close enough. But for tonight, it would have to be. Loq tugged the chain at the back of her neck, and it was enough to make her dress dissolve into a cascade of shells skittering across the floor of their quarters. She pressed her forehead against his and slid her hands under his uniform, feeling the ridge of his spines, so familiar, and yet so strange to no longer be a part of her. Tomorrow the work would start again. Counseling. Physical therapy. Regaining her sense of self. Regaining her comfort in her own body. Trying to get Loq to set aside his stoicism and do the same. Destroying that futuristic transporter, much as she hated to let it go. But for tonight, she didn't want to think about any of it. Not the future, not the past, just the two of them, a universe to themselves. Yinn and Qurgh'Loq. Maj dok. ----- Lt. Jr. Grade Yinn Science Officer USS Octavia E. Butler O240011Y12

I found this quite amusing. Would this be sort of breaking the fourth wall? Kinda? Not really? 😄 (( Unknown, Unknown, Stardate Unknown )) O'Reilly blinked, his mind struggling to process the sudden shift in his surroundings. One moment, he had been standing on the familiar marine deck of the USS Octavia E. Butler, discussing the training schedule with his fellow marines, while on stand by. The next, he found himself tumbling out of a bathroom stall, the cold tile floor rushing up to meet him. The smell of cleaning products mixed with musty odors hit his nostrils, a far cry from the sterile, recycled air of the starship. Disoriented, Teddy pushed himself up, his hands slipping slightly on the damp floor. He glanced around, trying to make sense of his new environment. The bathroom was dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights casting an eerie glow on the dirty walls. To his right, he saw Link sprawled on the floor, looking equally confused. An attendant stood near the sinks, shaking his head disapprovingly at the two men who, from his perspective were no doubt horsing around. Teddy's marine training kicked in, and he quickly assessed the situation. This was definitely not the OEB, nor any Starfleet facility he recognized. The primitive fixtures, the musty smell, and the attendant's outdated clothing all pointed to something far more perplexing. As he helped Link to his feet, Teddy's mind raced with questions. Where were they? How did they get here? And more importantly, how were they going to get back to their ship? O’Reilly: Hey Link ::grabbing the other marine by his arm:: you ok? The dampness of floor and its cold unforgiving seemed to seep through the fatigues that Link was wearing, he gripped onto Teddy's arm as he was helped up. Jensen: I'm okay. O’Reilly: Where are we? He looked around to see this old bathroom and the stall that both of them had just fallen out of. It was a dimly lit bathroom, and the fluorescent lights flickered to give this room a claustrophobic feel. Jensen: I don't know. O’Reilly: I was just talking with Simmons about, umm, schedules I think. Jensen: Do you recognise this place? It looks old. O’Reilly: If we are in the past, we need to be careful, we’re going to stand out like sore thumbs. The attendant looked over to them and they awkwardly said… Jensen: Erm…hi. The two men gave him a look that said, why are you talking to me. Link nudged Teddy to follow as he felt the awkwardness of the situation take hold. The two made their way out of the bathroom and into a giant hall. Almost instantaneously, O'Reilly's recent statement became pointless as two beings of a species he'd never seen before cut him off. One had odd-looking tentacles and the other appeared to be wearing a red and gold metal outfit with glowing palms. They were met with the most diverse collection of people, aliens, and outfits. Some people were dressed in extremely heavy combat armor that was mostly green with a gold visor, and they were carrying giant rifles that made even the Federation rifles look tiny. Others were dressed as elves, orcs, and other fantasy creatures. There were people dressed in what appeared to be very form-fitting one-piece suits which were made up primarily of blue and white and featured thin white stripes going across horizontally and vertically over their chests and arms. In the center of the torso was the outline of a spider. At once, they all seemed to suddenly freeze in position and point at each other. Jensen: I had a dream like this once, I was pretending to be a… Teddy cut him off, know where this was going. O'Reilly: ::placing his hand on Link’s shoulder:: Yeah (beat) maaaaybe a story for another time (beat) or never. There was a momentary pause of awkwardness… Jensen: So…where are we? O'Reilly: Some type of meeting center? (beat) but what’s with the outfits? Jensen: They are… He paused for a second and took stock of where he was, an idea came to mind Jensen: Are we in a comic book? Before the question could be answered, O’Reilly interjected. O’Reilly: The flow seems to be heading that way ::pointing:: As the two turned to walk, there was a blood curtailing scream from the door next to the one they had exited and suddenly that same door slammed open and a blushing man in Starfleet uniform came running out. Jer-Legrand: Sorry sorry sorry sorry. O’Reilly looked back at the door as the starfleet officer shot out of the bathroom. O’Reilly: I’m fairly certain that symbol used to mean lady’s room? (beat) ::not recognizing the man:: Where are you from… O’Reilly didn’t want to give away where they were from, just in case it was coincidental that this man was wearing a uniform that was awfully similar to the 2401 officer uniform. Jer-Legrand was just a little bit taller than Link Jensen. He was flustered, to say the least, and the mortified look upon his face told the story of his embarrassment. Jer-Legrand: I’m from. Jer-Legrand took a moment to survey where he was and the two Starfleet marines in front of him. The Bajoran spoke with a southern French accent; his words ended short and seemed to be measured and thoughtful. Jer-Legrand: The Octavia E Butler? He questioned his response, not that he wasn’t sure where he was from but rather he wasn’t sure who these two were, or where he really was. Link, on the other hand responded with much more ethueism Jensen: Oh yay, us too. O’Reilly: Oh good, twos a date night, three’s a party (beat) shall we. ::indicating towards the larger room at the end of the hall:: Teddy’s offactories picked up on sweet and savory aromas that made his stomach grumble. It was only then that he remembered it was almost lunch time before they were sent back here. oO I wonder if they have replicators here. Oo Jer-Legrand: I guess so. Erm…Per’cel Jer-Legrand, I’m in operations. Jensen: Aw sweet. Can I call you Percy? Link almost seemed to bounce with excitement. Jer-Legrand: Everyone else does. O’Reilly: So you know Lhandon Nilsen? As he spoke, he looked around at the sights, smells, and sounds. It was an assault on the senses. Link was glad that he had his gloves on to suppress his Betazoid abilities. He lost count of the number of people in this large hall. They continued following the group and soon reached a gate where there was an attendant scanning what seemed to be badges being worn as lanyards around everyone's neck. Jer-Legrand: I don't think we have one of those. Percy spoke with uncertainty as he held the group back. Jer-Legrand: Perhaps we should see what we can do around here first. At least work out where and when we are. There has got to be some kind of sign around here. O’Reilly: Agreed! I’m glad we landed on earth, I’m no good without a UT. Jensen: What about that, what does that say? They wondered over to the billboard that showed the floor layout and a listing of various different stalls and people, wand where they can be found. O’Reilly: “Grand Rapid Comic-con”, what do you suppose that is? ::looking around at the strange outfits again:: Percy questioned along slight Teddy. Jer-Legrand: A Comic-Con? But Link provided an excitable response Jensen: A Comic-Con?…Comic-Com? O’Reilly: Two marines and a ops guy, I’m pretty sure we’ll find a way to get into that larger hall. Teddy’s stomach growled, he realized they were just about to have lunch when they were snatched away and when he got hangry, no one ever had fun. Jer-Legrand: What is in that hall? Jensen: Erm…good question…Teddy what is in the hall? O’Reilly: Looks like some type of convention? Jer-Legrand: So…you just followed everyone? Jensen: Errrr…yeah. O’Reilly: Sure. Percy just nodded. Then they came across a billboard, for people magazine, advertising the “sexiest man alive” Jer-Legrand: You think he looks like a human version of Toxin Arlill. O’Reilly: Maybe?…. Teddy winced his face trying to see it, the hairline was similar. Jer-Legrand: He really does. Jensen: I don’t see it. O’Reilly: ::just shaking his head:: Jer-Legrand: Really? look at him, he looks just like Arlill. O’Reilly: Nah, Toxin’s got a bigger beard. Jensen: Yeah, I don’t see it. We’re getting distracted. I want to get home. O’Reilly: Well we better do something fast, because ::stopping cold:: In the convention hall stood a figure that didn’t seem to fit. They were clad in a robe with fancy markings, it just didn’t set up right with Teddy. O’Reilly: You see them ::discreetly pointing:: do they seem out of place? Jensen: Yeah. that is not a cosplay. [To Be Continued] TBC! Private Link Jenson & Ensign Percy Jer-Legrand As simmed by Lieutenant JG Lhandon Joseph Nilsen Assistant Chief of Operations USS Octavia E Butler O240007LN1 He/Him/His (Both player and character) & Private First Class Thomas O'Reilly 4/73 Marines as simmed by: Lieutenant Toxin Arlill USS Octavia E. Butler (NCC-82850) Writer ID: 0239910TA4

Glad to have you!

What's the worst that could happen?

Yinn's writer has been exploring an interesting concept of a merging of minds - quite literally - but not of bodies (think Tuvix, but where Neelix and Tuvok bodies still walk around but they share a mind that is technically a single entity). Here, we see what happens when those two bodies are rent apart due to a temporal anomaly and now she finds herself as only herself again. Great sim! IC: (( Cargo Bay, Deck 33, USS Sequoia, Sol System [Frontier Day] )) Half of Yinn was gone. The stronger, heavier set of limbs. The eyes that could see better in the dark. The pain in her other back she grudgingly admitted bothered her sometimes. But worse than that, half her mind was gone. She knew, in the abstract, that she had grown up in Hitorah colony, but she could no longer remember the smells of her house there, the sound of her mother, Bu'kah, singing opera to herself when she thought no one was listening. She couldn't remember her life there. Except that wasn't her life. It was his. Loq. Who had been a part of her. Who had been her. And without warning, with no reason she could understand, he was gone. Was he dead? Was she? Their bodies had been separated before; out of phase with each other, but even as her Bolian body was comatose, her mind was intact. But not this time. She kept reaching out, trying to make her phantom limbs, her phantom body move. But it was no use. That part of her was gone. Herrick: Frontier… Day?! Richards: The Enterprise! Yinn barely registered that she was no longer at the party, no longer on the treasure moon at all. What happened to Stendhal? Who seemed to be in two places at once and then nowhere? What happened to Caras? Yinn had tried to save him and put him in even more danger. Why were they back on the ship? Why was Herrick here? Richards: Wait. 250th? That’s the… Nijal: (tilting back and forth) The most recent one. Where that fleet formation almost took out three-quarters of the fleet. Yinn: Zi... what happened to us? Was she speaking with her Bolian mouth or her Klingon one? Was she speaking at all? It used to be easy to keep track. Richards: Maybe we already have an assigned viewing lounge? Nijal: You mean, like, maybe we're meant to be here? Because we already were here? Even while we were also in the Gamma Quadrant? Yinn's fellow crewmen sounded serious. Something had happened, but she couldn't make sense of what they were saying. They're also in the Gamma Quadrant? As opposed to where? Herrick: I suspect we might be able to blend into any of the lounges as the ship’s staff. I doubt the security is that tight (beat) yet. Our priorities should be confirming if anyone else from the Butler is onboard and figuring out a plan to get home. They weren't on the treasure moon, but they also weren't on the Butler. Maybe weren't in the Gamma Quadrant. Was that why she couldn't feel Loq? Were they too far away? Had they gone through the wormhole? Her scientist brain, singular, started slowly coming back to life. Questioning. Analyzing. Richards: (with a reluctant nod) Right. (another nod) Well then. We have twenty minutes. Yinn: oOSir... what happens in twenty minutes?Oo But Richards looked past her at Nijal. Was Yinn even here? Was she out of phase again? Or had she just forgotten how to speak out loud? She took a breath and felt the air filling her lungs. Not real air, salt air, but the sterile air of a starship. She closed her eyes and felt her skirt, snug around her hips, the hundreds of shells of her necklace ever-so-slightly digging into her chest. She flexed her fingers, then her arms. She ran her tongue across the roof of her mouth. This was her body. Her one body. All she had left. She touched her tongue to her teeth, then pulled it back a millimeter. She sent a stream of air across it, an experimental hiss, just to see if she could form words. (ooc: Bolian speech is mostly hissing, I decided a while back) Nijal: It's probably better if we see as few people as possible, just in case. Richards: Responses Yinn: Sir. Herrick nodded and kept going. He heard her, she was real after all. He just thought he was agreeing. Herrick: (nodding) It’s best to avoid the transporters… (lowering his voice) you may recall that it was the primary delivery mechanism of the nanoprobes, and I’d rather avoid becoming a member of the collective today. ::motioning to Nijal:: Can you ascertain where we are? Nanoprobes? Collective? Had Yinn awoken in the middle of a mission? She was still dressed for the party... on that moon... something about a knife... Betazoids in cages... had that all been a dream? Yinn needed to stop everything, just for a minute, and find out what had happened to her. But the rest of the crew were lost in conversation. Something serious was happening. And she still wasn't sure she knew how to speak. Nijal: (reading from the wall panel) Deck 33. And this is (beat; reading) the Sequoia. (looking to Richards) Why did you think this was the Enterprise? Wasn't the Galaxy class Enterprise destroyed decades ago? Richards: Response Herrick: (nodding) That’s right. Even decades after her commission she remains infamous. Richards: Response Herrick: Do we recall what happened to the Sequoia? Richards: Responses Nijal: (continuing on) How'd we get here? Yinn: Yes. Finally. That was the question that needed answering. Yinn reached out to put an arm on Nijal's shoulder, but it just drifted off in another direction. Richards: Responses Herrick: (unsure) Maybe something happened if we did end up exchanging fire with those cult folk? ::opening his tricorder, running some scans:: There only seems to be the four of us from the Butler… and some scattered temporal readings. (beat) 2 are moving, and 1 seems stationary. Yinn: Cult? Richards/Nijal: Responses Herrick: (shaking his head) I’m not too keen to split up unless absolutely necessary. It adds more risk of exposure or further separation. Yinn: Separation. Richards/Nijal: Responses Josh looked at his tricorder and increased the resolution. Herrick: It looks like the moving signatures are up on Deck 2 and the stationary one is on Deck 9… in Solid Waste Reprocessing Yinn still didn't understand where they were or what had happened, but three of the crew elsewhere on this ship? Crew they had to find? That part, at least, made sense. Richards/Nijal: Responses Herrick: Alright team; let’s press onward. Yinn finally found her voice. She could finally push a solid stream of air between her lips. Yinn: Wait. Herrick stopped and looked back at her. Finally. Yinn: Sir. I don't understand what's happening. I was on the treasure moon with Nijal, I blacked out, and I came to in the middle of this mission. And... She was almost afraid to say it. Saying it made it real. This wasn't just some wild hallucination. Half of her was really gone. Yinn: I'm just me, sir. I can't feel Loq's body, or his memories, or... Herrick/Richards/Nijal: Responses Yinn: I'm sorry, sir. I know there are crew we need to find. And something happens in nineteen minutes. But... I don't know how I got here, and half of me is gone. I... Can't? Can't complete the mission? Do her duty as a Starfleet officer? Would she dishonor herself and her house? Yinn: I'm sorry, sir. I just needed a minute. Tell me where I need to be. Herrick/Richards/Nijal: Responses Tags! and TBC! --- Lt. Junior Grade Yinn Science Officer USS Octavia E. Butler O240011Y12

Wait...so Sbadni is the REAL Dread Pirate Roberts!?!?!

Because in Avander's opinion, getting shot is nothing. LOL

Poor Tanner thinks he's going to get abandoned.

Congratulations! Glad to have you!

Now I want to know what else is in there...

Only an engineer....

Come on, that will NEVER happen again!

A Jem'Hadar, a Cardassian, and a Bajoran walk into a bar...