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  1. Did someone on Denali Station say something funny? Gut wrenching? Thought provoking? Feel free to post those things here. I'll start. --- Absolutely classic @TLea being secretly excited about the prospect of something blowing up. It's good every time. 😉
  2. I figured instead of having a monthly thread, we could just keep a running thread of funny instances in our sims.
  3. There was one of these for the Victory and I seen other ships with a simular topic, so here is a new one for a new ship, who wants to be the first to put up a funny Quote from one of the crew??
  4. Okay, I put this in the Chin'toka's quote forum, but as I kept reading this thing just kept getting funnier and funnier. Well done @Noa T'Nessa Levinson ((Corridor, Deck 10, USS Chin’toka)) Levinson: Out of the way! Move! Noa was doing her best not to outright shout as she was running in the corridors. She didn’t really have time to think of a plan on how to contain what she was chasing, with how quickly it moved. She was just monitoring an experiment of part of the science department’s latest attempts at creating a rubber-like material, ensuring it was much more elastic and durable than rubber. It definitely had its uses - such as absorbing shocks in lieu of inertial dampeners, but still being in the testing phase, the sample was held inside a level 9 forcefield and spherical in shape for easier measurements. What couldn’t be anticipated, however, was that Crewman Pics’s instruction to display the data on a nearby monitor would be interpreted by the computer as "disable the forcefield around the obviously active experiment". Long story short, what was quite possibly the bounciest bouncy ball in Federation history was now bouncing amok around deck 10. After notifying relevant personnel and realizing the ball was moving way too quickly for the transporter rooms to possibly get a lock on it, Noa started bolting after the ball as a few other members of her staff split off to see if they could corner it… or something. Soon enough, she managed to start closing the gap towards the bouncy ball, before noticing it was headed in what looked to her as right for Captain Delano’s head. Levinson: ::With the slightest hint of panic in her voice:: Captain, move aside! Now! Fortunately, the ball just barely missed him and kept bouncing uninterrupted along the corridor. Mei’konda: Response She took that opportunity to stop running and catch her breath. That was… genuinely tiring. She wasn’t used to this amount of exercise. Especially not in her uniform. Levinson: ::Visibly exhausted:: Are you alright, sir? Mei’konda: Response Noa eventually managed to catch her breath and speak more than a few words per breath, and spoke. Levinson: A really bouncy bouncy ball. A computer malfunction disabled its containing forcefield mid-experiment. Mei’konda: Response Levinson: I am aware it may be much, but can I ask for your help in… containing it, please? Mei’konda: Response -- Lieutenant Noa T'Nessa Levinson Chief Science Officer USS Chin'toka E239701NL0
  5. Did you see something memorable aboard the Chin'toka that you want to recognize? Drop it in this thread! Whether it's a mishap or just Toryn being Toryn, this is the place for it.
  6. I guess you may already know that but USS Arrow simulation was just launched last Monday. In order to celebrate such unique event here are the nominations for the Top Funny Quotes of the Season. 🤣😆😂😝
  7. Please post any funny lines or memorable quotations from sims from our crew!
  8. I feel like @herakijana needs a hug (and maybe mandatory therapy... several times a week....), but this was an excellent read! Well done ❤️
  9. (( Bajor - Park )) Lera was going to be in trouble. Much trouble. She had sneaked out. Not that Evria was the kind of parent to excessively tie down her child, but it was the middle of the night. Ferengi are, of course, somewhat more nocturnal than other humanoids...to her, it was not that dark and she could hear every sound in the supposedly-closed park. She lay on the grass, looking uptwards. Off to one side was the baleful glow of the Celestial Temple. She ignored it, not because she was mad but because it wasn't what she wanted to look at right now. The slightly faster moving star that arced through the sky was Deep Space Nine, the brightest piece of orbital hardware in the system. She ignored that too. She was looking at the stars, in all of their panoply, spread above her. The Bajorans had the Prophets. She had the Rules of Acquisition, but she wasn't sure she wanted them. She was, of course, particularly unfond of "Females and finances don't mix," which was patently untrue. She was pretty sure "Every man has his price" was untrue too. Oh, and then there was the one about clothes. She was a woman and she was going to wear clothes and perhaps it was time to rewrite a few of those rules. Some of them weren't so bad. "Always leave yourself an out" felt pretty good. So did "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." But the one that she was thinking of right now was one of the more poetic ones. "Home is where the heart is, but the stars are made of latinum." Maybe she didn't want latinum, but this was supposed to be home and she loved Evria and appreciated everything she had done for her. But one day she was going to the stars, not for latinum but because they called to her. She would never be Bajoran, it was only a refuge for her, for a time. She was going to the stars. One day. Atan Lera Child Bajor S238312D10
  10. ((Bajor, Raijalla Valley)) Lukin had to admit, Bajor was beautiful. Oh it would never hold the same place in his heart as Cardassia, but it was easy to see why Cardassians so greatly desired to conquer it, and the benefits they would reap. And yet, he also knew the damage they had done. Looking at the scenery before them, there was no visual representation of all the ways the Occupation had affected the planet, but there were hints here and there in various ways still present in the culture and peoples of the planet. But Bajor had survived the Occupation, and she was as beautiful as ever. The people had survived the Occupation and were stronger for it. And Cardassia? It too would grow stronger, and without the sins of the past repeated, if he could do anything about it. In that moment, he wondered what it would be like to simply start walking and not stop, to wander among those flower studded fields, Arys’ hand in his on one side, Geleth’s on the other. It was a nice thought. Perhaps he would do so. But not yet. No, there was still much to do - at least, a lot of rubbing elbows. A moment could be taken, stolen, and it was that moment that Lukin took with Arys, who was trying to figure out if, since the Gala was not a mandatory event, she was attending as Lukin’s partner or as part of Taybrim’s crew, and if she was to wear a dress or her dress uniform. Zorkal: Are you ready? Trovek: Far from it. Makeup and hair were done, and would match both dress and uniform perfectly. It even fit to the robe she was still wearing. By contrast, he was actually ready, a suit of dark grey and deep green, the panels of the former overlaid on panels of the latter, and a silver belt clasped around his waist. Zorkal: You could simply go like that. He didn’t mind at all that she only had a robe on. In fact, he wouldn’t have minded removing said robe. Likely, though, it would be rejected as it really was neither the time nor the place…well, it wasn’t the time. Trovek: Very funny. ::she rolled her eyes:: But there is still time. And well, I was distracted. Arys glanced at the chrono, and indeed, there was time yet. She motioned for him to sit down on the bed next to her, and he did so. She hadn’t mentioned Jenis’ warning to Lukin, but she had taken action. A message had been sent to Aaron, essentially uninviting him, and another to Ferri, requesting her to change her plans and watch Geleth instead. Lukin followed and sat down, waiting for her to explain herself. Zorkal: By what? Arys hesitated. The one moment the answer was on the tip of her tongue, the other it was gone entirely, leaving only a bitter taste to remind of it. She stood behind her decision, but she was ashamed to have brought her family here, only to back out now. Trovek: Truthfully, I suppose I am asking for your forgiveness. She lowered her gaze, and a frown furled over the corners of Lukin’s mouth. As far as he knew, she’d done nothing that required forgiveness. Had something occurred? Had she made a decision that would affect him and Geleth without asking? Zorkal: Why? Trovek: I know how much family matters. I know how privileged I am to have a brother who is alive. And that I shouldn’t throw that away. Family. It was the most important thing to Cardassians, save for Cardassia itself. The family unit was generally forged with a strong bond. Men and women would weep over lost children, a matter of life on a harsh world that didn’t always have the resources it needed to support its people. It was an interesting contrast to the idea that while marriage could be for love, it was often for other reasons, and yet there was still that loyalty to the family that went beyond what others might expect from Cardassians. Lukin had lost his family. His mother, father, aunts and uncles, siblings and cousins were nothing but a distant memory. Zorkal: Arys, I’m not quite sure I know what you mean. She looked up at him and took his hands. Trovek: Something tells me it’s… ::she paused, and decided to start from the beginning:: I had offered Aaron to watch Geleth this evening… under supervision, of course but while we were at the market, one of his wives sought me out. She warned me. She said that he is exceedingly good at knowing what to say. And it’s true. He always has been. And maybe that was what was bothering Lukin as well. Arys had already stated that Aaron had said the right things’ and then asked to see Geleth. What was the motivation? Was it truly altruistic? Was it really because Geleth was part of the family? Zorkal: That makes him dangerous. His hands tightened their grip on hers a little, and she nodded. Zorkal: So what do you wish to do? Trovek: I… want to be careful. I don’t think I would want him to meet Geleth, or you. ::she paused:: Not yet. Maybe never. Maybe being as far away from his as possible is the best course of action. That was unexpected. Lukin had thought that Arys was on a mission to save her brother, but now she seemed uncertain. Zorkal: If that is what you wish. If it disappointed him, or if it displeased him, he didn’t say, and Arys was grateful for his support. She squeezed his hands and got up again. Trovek: If anything, I feel more guilty about telling Ferri she has to watch Geleth. I think she quite enjoyed spending time with the Ensigns. ::she smiled:: I’ve never seen her so chatty before. Zorkal: Then perhaps we shall invite them over along with her and she can chat more with them there. But while they were on Bajor, Geleth would either accompany him, Arys, or Ferri. Since the gala had diplomatic implications, Lukin was not inclined to miss it. Arys was a part of the crew who had been invited, so she could not miss it. Trovek: I suppise you’re right. ::she sighed:: Well, let’s get ready. Zorkal: I am already ready. I can not say the same about you. Though he personally rather liked her with the robe. Even better without it. She tilted her head and took off the robe, tossing it onto the bed. Trovek: Could go like this. Zorkal: My dear, as much as I would greatly enjoy taking advantage of your current condition, we are expected at an event and it would reflect poorly if we were not to show up. And I guarantee that I would not allow you to show up in such a state, no matter how glorious it may be. In truth she was, of course, not planning on going like… that. She turned and picked the dress uniform from the table. She would have preferred something else, after all, she was there as Starfleet Officer. Zorkal: I find that infinitely more appropriate. I will relieve you of it later. Trovek: Sometimes I wonder if you even still love me. ::she pouted, but wasn’t all too serious about it:: We haven’t had a real argument in ages. Stop being so agreeable and supportive, I hate it. Zorkal: I could order you not to go to the gala, but that would be counter productive. I’m sure we’ll find some reason to disagree sooner rather than later. But if you would do something about your attire, otherwise we may never reach our destination. There was a slight quirk at one corner of his mouth, just a hint, and then it grew a little wider. Rarely, if ever, were his features ever fashioned into an exuberance that others wore, but for him, his smiles to Arys and Geleth, born of sincere love and devotion, even if he might not admit it to others beyond that carefully cultivated circle, were a Cardassian defined level of joy.. Arys decided that yes, it was time to get dressed, and did so. Now clad in her fancy uniform she walked up to Lukin, moved a hand to the side of his face, on her lips a somewhat condescending smile. Trovek: It’s adorable when you think you’re in charge, my lizard. Zorkal: It’s amusing that you think I’m not. Lukin chuckled softly, then pressed his warm lips against her forehead, one hand sliding around her waist. Zorkal: Shall we? Trovek: We shall. She nodded, and together they left for the Gala. Flirtatious mood aside, Arys was still worried. To someone on the outside, Aaron’s reaction to the withdrawal of his invitation had been cool and collected, supportive of her decision even if a little disappointed. But Arys had seen something in his eyes, a glimmer of something that was neither supportive nor disappointed. Had reconnecting with him been a mistake? Lt. Trovek Arys Chief Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops J239809TA4 And Dalin Lukin Zorkal Cardassian Ambassador Starbase 118 Ops M239008AD0
  11. I really love how @Lt Aine Olive Sherlock makes use of this rather relaxed mission and weaves in bits and pieces of her B-Plot back on One-Eighteen. This is from PNPC Shevon Sherlock - She said I could and LT Aine Sherlock - New Two
  12. Quips, quotes, advice, it all goes here! What's happening on the Oumuamua? And should we be afraid?
  13. I'm not sure who to credit for these comedic computer responses, but based on the OOC, I suspect it was @Noa T'Nessa Levinson. But @Esa_Darkkdust did a great job too. Well done overall! ((OOC: I’d like to personally thank Noa for finding the most random responses to my queries so that I could scramble them.)) ((Computer Core Main Access, Deck 12, USS Chin’toka)) While not normally her area of responsibility as Operations Chief, she had been involved with several of the major updates to the computer system Starfleet periodically issued since the Chin’toka’s launch. Naturally, when the latest update had crossed her desk, mere hours after arriving back on board, she’d simply picked up the job of installing it and ensuring it ran correctly and continued on her merry way. This was her first mistake. In the small print, at the end of the update readme, were the words “Do not use in conjunction with Bio-Neural Gel Pack Revision 13.1”. These words fell by the wayside as Esa set about installing the update, which completed, seemingly successfully. Now, hours later, she was laying flat on her back, tools in hand, buried under looms of cabling from the inside of the main computer access panel as she attempted to correct her mistake. Kiax: Computer, status report. Computer: Contest of Fedevision Betazed. Song winner 2394 is the ::uncomfortably long pause:: The Esa punched the underside of the console. Kiax: Stupid machine! As expected, the computer was still broken. The update had scrambled the core’s AI speech recognition and vocalisation subroutines, causing it to simply reply with, effectively, unrelated gibberish. Despite attempting to uninstall the update and subsequently performing a system-wide rollback, the error had persisted – requiring a manual fix. Which, by every account, was incredibly frustrating. If it wasn’t fixed before the end of the Captain’s sanctioned shore leave period, they’d have to end up in drydock, and Esa was not about to be responsible for that level of delay. She wiped a blackened-with-dirt hand across her sweat covered brow, leaving a streak across her forehead, and set about recalibrating the circuits once more. As she poked and prodded, she kept talking to the computer, much like a brain surgeon would with a patient, to ensure that whatever she did didn’t cause any unintentional side effects. Kiax: Computer, count from one to three. Computer: high cheese, tomatoes, is of ingredients, oven. origin dough a usually and in temperature, round, wood-fired other a Pizza Italian then a consisting various baked topped wheat-based of a flat often base at is leavened with which of traditionally dish oO Good lord. It’s completely lost its marbles. Oo Esa sighed, and continued working. Minutes turned into hours, and before she knew it, it was almost time for a duty shift swap. This problem needed fixing, and it needed fixing now. Kiax: Computer, are you okay? Computer: Please question the restate... She paused, and quirked an eyebrow. Kiax: Computer, can you tell me where we are? Computer: Beta Par'tha, Quadrant Expanse Well, at least it was now understanding the questions… But the sentences were still scrambled. A couple more tweaks with the processing matrix and things, she supposed, should be back to normal. Kiax: Computer, is the comms system functioning correctly? Computer: thin made tin. also is Tin spelled tinfoil, of a foil, foil Or not. As the case may be. Assuming that was, in fact, an affirmation of the comms system being active, she tapped her combadge and hoped for the best. With nothing but the usual active line chirp, Esa sighed with relief and spoke. Kiax: Commander Kiax to Ensigns One Zero One and Zero Zero Zero? 101 & 000: Response Kiax: I’m down in the main computer core access and… Well, I’ve uhh… ::Beat:: I’ve broken it. We’ve not met, but I hear you’re quite competent with electronics and programming… Care to help me get the old girl back to fighting form? 101 & 000: Response Kiax: Acknowledged, Kiax out. Well, at least there was hope. In the mean time, however… A few more tweaks… Kiax: Computer, what is the current stardate? Computer: majority letter of the in the these are languages The not Q from English, English not English In followed are anglicised usually Hebrew, letter Chinese, by the is sound a some found other alphabet, or Inuktitut, but exceptions. Q do representing there with Arabic, use that U, Yeah… She should wait for the experts… Lieutenant Commander Esa Kiax Chief Operations Officer USS Chin’toka – NCC 97187 A239511ED0
  14. My character Arys might not be part of the Taybrim-Fanclub (she's a Dal/Foster-girl), but her writer is! I love reading those narration-heavy Taybrim sims that give us an understanding of how Sal loves doing what he does, but also highlight the burden of always being center stage. An absolute treat to read @Sal Taybrim , can't wait to drag Sal along to more missions
  15. Yet another spicy-emotional interaction between @TLea and @John Kendrick. It's sweet, and it is a little sad. And well written! Once again, can't wait to see how this ends up developing as things progress in various directions.
  16. Auw, touchy @Vylaa. ((Unknown Location, Rogue World)) Rosenblatt: Ark’Va is bringing your friends. If you’ll excuse me, I have some duties to attend to. Eileen slowly made her way through the shelters after leaving the new arrivals, her previously normal strides now reduced to short, shuffling steps, her limbs now feeling the weak achiness that now followed on the heels of exertion. She smiled and held up a hand of greeting to a small group of friends, but said nothing; her breaths were coming in short gulps and she needed every bit of air to make it to her quarters. The path ahead seemed to stretch in her mind, like space just before just before going to warp. A sixty meter walk seemed like a kilometer. She tired easily, forcing several rest stops where she watched her friends and their families go about their day. This was nothing new to the aging human, it often took her longer than it used to to make this walk. Buros had often implored her to start using a cane, saying it would make her daily rounds far easier, less tiring. He’d even handmade a lovely looking walking stick for her, but stupid vanity had meant it remained propped against a wall of their shared home. After a seeming eternity she reached their door and pushed the panel of woven tree branches aside before ducking inside. She took a brief moment to adjust to the pale glow from the shroomlights before sitting on the lone bed along the back wall. The single room was sparsely furnished, just some rough wooden shelves attached to the ad hoc walls made from a mix of old landing craft panels and planks of wood. They didn’t need anything else. Unlike many of the others, they hadn’t been blessed with children, so a second room hadn’t been needed. Not that she and Buros hadn’t wanted children, but consecutive miscarriages had taught them the hard way that it wasn’t in the cards. So Eileen had put her energy into other peoples children; making sure they were fed and clothed, happy and safe. That was how she’d found purpose in their unintended exile. She turned to one of the smaller shelves, over the bed, once her breathing returned to normal. She took down various bowls containing medicinal plants foraged from the planet. She began adding small amounts to a cup of water kept by the bed, feeling much like a witch brewing a potion. A touch of this, a dash of that… All she needed was a bit of eye of newt. The resulting concoction tasted as fowl as such a witches brew must surely taste, but it helped her condition, made it easier to get through the day without a vise squeezing her chest. She made a face. The concoction defied getting used to, like drinking mud. The door creaked aside again, and Buros peeked in before entering. His tall frame almost didn’t fit inside and his greying hair almost brushed the ceiling. He sat by Eileen’s side and took the cup from her hands and glanced at the undissolved dregs of her medicine left behind at the bottom. Ghamaar: We need to get you off this planet… Eileen glanced at the door. Rosenblatt: I won’t leave them behind… Eileen Rosenblatt and Buros Ghamaar Simmed by Ensign Vylaa zh'Tisav Engineering Officer USS Gorkon
  17. I am so eager to see how this will unfold. And even if @Arys gave me a few spoilers I still think she might hold a surprise in her hand.
  18. @Kettick, The vibes on this one are absolutely immaculate. In the most flattering way possible, this oozes questionable Ferengi energy in exactly the way it should and I'm about it. I don't know what it is, and maybe it's that it's like 6am where I am so I'm slightly tired, but this is really good writing and I needed a moment to calm down because I'm stoked.
  19. Another beautiful @Mei'konda plushie reference from the Chin'toka. Loving this. @Noa T'Nessa Levinson & @Toryn Raga, you are adorable.
  20. ((Temporary Quarter, Starbase 118)) Shevon had seen a lot of cargo and docking bays, but rarely did she venture far from her home in the stars. She'd even been to 118 a few times in her life, but never took the chance to venture into the belly of the beast. But now, here she was. A maze of corridors and levels. She wasn't sure where to go or what to do. Her life was suddenly halted from its norm. The Promenade seemed as good a place as any to lose one's self and it was there she went. ((Promenade, Starbase 118, a short time later)) Shevon used the PADD that was provided with her temporary quarters to navigate her way to the Promenade. The shear number of shops and restaurants was enough to overwhelm anyone, not to mention the vast variety of alien species she was seeing. She'd seen her share, but there were many here she couldn't even have imagined to exist. And the view to the Commercial District below, she did not know such things could be built, at least not on a space station. Everything appeared nice and clean too. But then again, compared to the Delight, a bucket of dirt appeared clean. She eventually approached one of the many replicator cafes...replimats...whatever they were, they were free. But she hadn't a clue what to order. Food aboard the Delight could only be described as "edible," and nothing else. Eventually she just ordered some kind of soup she'd overheard someone else ordering. As she slowly sipped tiny spoonfuls at a time, she watched the passersby and wondered if it was always this busy. And with each passing second, she realized more and more that she was alone. Not just alone at a table. Much of the crew was already seeking employment elsewhere, on ships soon to leave. And since many of them came from other ships, that made sense. She knew nothing else, hadn't a clue yet what she would do. Other existential thoughts came and went. Would anyone even remember what had happened? Would anyone know she even existed? Of course not. The only person she ever really knew was dead. From birth it seemed, she was destined to be abandoned by the galaxy. As her soup grew cold, which she wasn't really enjoying anyways, a beeping sound came from the PADD she had with her. She wasn't sure what it meant, but there was a small blinking light on the touch screen so she tapped it. A box opened up on the screen showing the face of the woman who came to retrieve her from the shuttlebay. The one with the same name. The one that accused her of being some sort of random creation by something she still didn't understand. A. Sherlock: Miss...Sherlock. Um...can I all you Shevon? S. Sherlock: I'd prefer that actually. Aine noted that Shevon's face looked both suspicious and reluctant. She'd seen that face on her when she first brought her to the Observation Lounge and Captain Monroe had revealed Aine's name. She wondered if the woman often made that face. A. Sherlock: Good. I was wondering if you had any free time to meet. There's some things I'd like to discuss with you. Shevon noted what Aine had said and how similar it was to what she'd said in the shuttlebay after her rescue. She wondered if all Starfleeters talked that way all the time. S. Sherlock: Do you always talk like that? A. Sherlock: ::a look of surprise came across Aine's face:: Like what? S. Sherlock: I don't know ::long pause:: evasively? A. Sherlock: I'm not trying to be evasive. S. Sherlock: Then why don't you ever just say what it is you want to talk about? Aine had always just considered it polite. A. Sherlock: I just... ::shrugging:: I want to talk about our father. And, your future. S. Sherlock: I don't know who my father is. And from what you said before, neither do you. Shevon was still bitter at the fact she was hypothesized to be a random creation. She'd been around for quite some time and who was this little...thing...to say anything like that about her? A. Sherlock: Between your DNA scan and... S. Sherlock: What DNA scan!? A. Sherlock: It's standard procedure when you're transported aboard a Federation starship. Anyways, I have some other information. And I'd like to talk to you about it. A part of Shevon didn't want to talk about it to this woman. She found her a bit smug, like all Starfleet officers she'd met. S. Shevon: Fine. When and where? Aine was half tempted to go back on her plan. Shevon was aggressive and standoffish, like most Merchant Marines. A. Sherlock: I'll send you directions. ((Apartment 302, Kowloon Block Apartments, Hong Kong Subdistrict, StarBase 118)) All Shevon could think was, "Of course she lives in that fancy dome, I bet all of them do." Her PADD guided her to the nearest turbolift, for which the wait seemed forever. Down to a place called Trinity City, before catching a waterborne craft of some sort she'd never seen before that dropped her at the deepest point of a series of waterways. She felt like she was being led to nowhere. But after departing the craft, she spied the building the PADD was guiding her to. Compared to some, it wasn't so big and looked a little dirty. Lots of things looked that way deep in this waterway. Upon entering the dingy building, she took a small lift to the third floor and found the apartment labeled 302. The dim lighting kind of reminded her of the Delight. She approached the door cautiously, but when she got close, it swung up. Her head and shoulders reeled back as if bracing for someone to jump out and grab her, but there was no one there. S. Sherlock: Hello? A. Sherlock: Hey, come in. I'm in the kitchen. It's the door on your right. Shevon slowly inched her way in and the door closed behind her as she began to make her way into the kitchen. She peeked her head in and could see Aine standing near a replicator. A. Sherlock: Tea, Barry's, hot, splash of milk. As the order materialized, Aine grabbed the mug of tea and turned to face Shevon. A. Sherlock: Tea? S. Sherlock: ::hesitantly:: Coffee. A. Sherlock: Any preference? S. Sherlock: I don't care so long as it's hot, black, and bitter. Aine simply nodded and then placed the order. She began to make her way out of the kitchen, handing Shevon the mug and leading her out to the sparse living room and gestured to one of two recliners in the room. She sat first, sipping her tea, and patiently waited for the obviously hesitant Shevon to take a seat. A. Sherlock: I spoke to my ::long pause:: our, father. S. Sherlock: ::taking a seat:: Are you going to apologize? A. Sherlock: Look, I was shocked. It didn't mean... Aine could see anger in Shevon's eyes. She was saying the wrong thing and she could see that. She took a moment to think. Right now, she didn't need to be a Starfleet officer, she needed to be Aine. A. Sherlock: I'm sorry. It was completely inappropriate for me to suggest that. Shevon gave her a sharp nod then took a long sip of her coffee. A. Sherlock: As I was saying, I spoke to our father. And it's just that, he is your father. He and your mother were...together. So that means... S. Sherlock: I get what it means. You don't need to say it. A part of Aine was relieved to hear that. Things were uncomfortable enough. S. Sherlock: Is that all then? A. Sherlock: No. I wanted to offer you a place to live. I have a spare room. I'd also like to see if you'd consider working for Starfleet. I can ask Commodore Taybrim if you can be made a provisional... S. Sherlock: You arrogant little shit. Aine's head shook and reeled back. Her eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't understand what prompted this response from Shevon. She was only trying to help. She sat in silence, shock. S. Sherlock: What makes you think I want or even need anything from you? A. Sherlock: I'm just trying to help here. S. Sherlock: Why? I don't know you, and you don't know me. Just because we're suddenly sisters...it means nothing to me. Aine considered her next words carefully. She realized that the reaction Shevon was having wasn't all that dissimilar to her blow-ups, at Sil, at Luthas and Egil, at Mel, at her father. It wasn't a family trait. It was a trait of trauma. You seek out excuses without asking for help. You seek out blame without consideration. A. Sherlock: I'm not offering these things because we're sisters. That's just a coincidence. I'm offering because I know what you're going through. Shevon stood up, the anger in her eyes was growing. Aine was half expecting to get a face of hot coffee, but somehow the half Orion woman held fast to the mug. S. Sherlock: You don't know anything! YOU were clearly the chosen one here. YOU had your parents. YOU were spoiled... A. Sherlock: Spoiled? S. Sherlock: Yeah, look at YOU! You're still a child and don't even realize it but no, little miss perfect is an officer in Starfleet! You probably haven't had an actual hard day in your life! Aine sipped her tea slowly. She looked up at Shevon. She wanted to yell, to fight back. But she knew that wouldn't help the situation. She also knew Shevon wasn't completely wrong. She did have both her parents. Compared to many in the galaxy, she had it easy, of that there was no doubt. But... A. Sherlock: And here, you don't know me at all. I'm not perfect. My parents hated that I wanted to join Starfleet, but never really told me why. But I did it anyway. And do you know what it takes to even get into the Academy? Much less graduate? Oh, and let me tell you this, don't get pregnant and then heartbroken in your first year, it doesn't make it easier. Aine paused, raising her eyebrows. Hoping that Shevon was getting the message. And it seemed to be setting in a little as she sat back down with a slightly shocked look on her face. A. Sherlock: I lost a ship once too. So when I say that I know what you might be feeling...I...know...what...you...might...be...feeling. Look, I'm not saying we have to be friends. I'm not even saying we have to call each other...sister. Don't let that crap stop you from accepting help. Shevon's eyes shifted away for a second. She was still angry. But maybe Aine was talking sense here...which she didn't think would be possible. But maybe she didn't give her enough, or even any, credit. S. Sherlock: ::eyes shifting back to Aine's:: Tell me about your ship. Aine cupped her hands around her mug, resting it in her lap and leaning forward. A. Sherlock: It was called the Resolution. Aine hadn't talked about the Resolution to anyone outside of the crew that was there or counselors. It wasn't a particularly hot topic for her. There were so many memories, bad ones at that, wrapped up with. Death, loss, and a little ribbon that was a terrible reminder of a mistake made. A. Sherlock: I can't tell you much about the mission as it's classified. But I can tell you that I was shot. I technically died. But I was revived. And during our escape, as I was standing there bleeding and in pain, I watched from a shuttle as it was destroyed. There were one hundred and fifty people assigned to it. Half a dozen of us weren't on it. At the time, I didn't know if anyone had made it off. Shevon stared almost blankly at Aine. Here she thought that the young woman, her younger sister, had never experienced serious hardship. She felt for her, but she still wasn't sure if she could trust her. Some part of her didn't want to trust her. A. Sherlock: I later found out that four... ::remembering the classified nature of one of the deaths:: thirteen of our crew lost their lives. S. Sherlock: Why weren't you on the ship? A. Sherlock: I can't tell you that. S. Sherlock: If you had been, would it still have been destroyed? A. Sherlock: I ask myself that every day. Would things have happened differently on that ship? Or what if I hadn't been shot, would we have gotten back to it sooner and been able to stop it? These are things I replay and relive every damn day. S. Sherlock: What did you do about it? How did you move on? A. Sherlock: I don't think I ever have. That was the truth. Starfleet had done their best to help them. And some of them did move on. She never did. It was an oddity within herself that Aine struggled with. Her first mission after being posted to the Resolution had taken a turn. The away team she was on ended up in a firefight. Life or death depended on quick reactions without thinking. It seemed to be something she had no problem with. She'd been in many fights as a teenager, but nothing so serious as that one. She took twelve lives that day, and not once since has she ever questioned it. Not once has she ever dwelled on it. Not once did it ever invade her dreams. Death, she thought, wasn't something that affected her. But she was wrong. When it came to the deaths of those she knew or those she was sworn to protect, it overwhelmed her in a way she could never have imagined. A. Sherlock: They, Starfleet, brought in a team of counselors to help us. All it seemed they ever did was ask how I was feeling. Give us exercises and ::beat:: methods they thought would help us mentally. Really, all I wanted was someone to tell me I was going to be alright. Not breathing exercises or recreational activities or ::beat:: Risian distractions. Shevon was beginning to see what Aine was getting at. That she didn't want her going down the same path. But she wasn't even sure if that's what she wanted or needed. But at this point, she didn't have anything else...maybe that was the point. She also didn't trust anyone. How could she start over among people she didn't even know? Was it worth the risk? S. Sherlock: Maybe ::beat:: I'll take you up on the offer. But, what if it doesn't work out? The job. A. Sherlock: Well, you're still free to stay here. I'm not going to turn my back on you. We'll just find you something you can do. S. Sherlock: Ok. But, I don't have any money. What I did have saved was all on the Delight in gold pressed latinum. A. Sherlock: You don't need to pay for anything right now. I'll take care of it. The rent on the apartment is covered. And, if you need anything, I'll grant access to my credits. Furniture, food, anything. And, as you saw, you have access to the apartment, you're free to come and go as you please. Shevon's eyes diverted again as she took another sip of her coffee. S. Sherlock: Thank you. No one's ever helped me before other than my father...my captain. A. Sherlock: I'm glad to help. And, I hope that I can help you see things differently. I know you don't think highly of Starfleet, but we are here to help people. We're not always perfect, sometimes, far from it. But we try. The pair sat in silence for a moment, sipping their drinks before conversation turned to sharing of their lives. Things they'd done, places they'd gone. There were few smiles, just polite exchanges of histories. Neither was quite ready for niceties just yet. Neither was ready to openly acknowledge their paternal connection. Time was what they would need, and time was what they now had. End (for now) Shevon Sherlock Recently Unemployed and Lieutenant Aine Sherlock Tactical Officer StarBase 118 Ops R239712AS0
  21. ((Bajor)) Arys had sent Aaron a message to let him know that she was on Bajor for the festivities and that the location she wanted to meet at was a public park. Private enough to be away from prying eyes, public enough for him not to be able to make a scene. They hadn’t spoken in almost a full Terran year. While growing apart was something many could easily relate to, as it was commonplace for two adults leading their own lives, this wasn’t quite the case for the Trovek siblings. There had always been a tangible distance between Arys and Aaron. Even though Arys was only a few years younger, the two children had never played together, and the one time they did, it had ended in an ‘accident’ and months of recovery. Leaning against one of the ancient trees the park had been built around, Arys glanced up at it’s crown. According to Aaron and according to Sileah, Arys had climbed a tree and fallen. According to Arys, she hadn’t. But who believed a six years old child with a concussion and spinal cord injury? She spotted her brother as soon as he came into view. He seemed to have aged considerably since the last time she saw him. In her memory, he was still the smug adolescent who charmed girls, teachers and parents alike, and who always got what he wanted. In reality, he was almost forty and tired. Aaron: Hello my dear sister. I am glad to see you again. He inclined his head in the monastic manner suitable for the religious leader he saw himself as, and Arys did her best to ward off the heaviness that descended upon them. The last time Arys and Aaron had met, he had sought her out while she was waiting for the SS Starfarer to take her from Deep Space Nine to Earth. Most of the conversation had been surprisingly pleasant, but he had more than once shown himself in agreement with their mother’s ways and opinions. Arys doubted that he would react particularly well to learning that his sister was engaged to a Cardassian and had adopted a half-Cardassian child. Trovek: ::nodding:: It’s been a while. She smiled carefully, conscious of what posture and expression were conveying, and tried her best to not let either of them appear her to be defensive. In turn, he nodded. His charming smile was stamped on his face, but beyond that, no emotion showed. Almost Cardassian, Arys thought to herself. The bad kind of Cardassian. Her stomach was in knots, but Arys decided to ignore it. Aaron hadn’t doneanything. She was being unreasonable. Even Lukin hadn’t at all been opposed to her reaching out to him, and the man was paranoia incarnate. Aaron: That it has. How have you been? Trovek: I’ve been well. I was promoted. First to Lieutenant Junior Grade, then to Lieutenant. I’m also Chief Medical Officer of a huge Starbase. She wasn’t quite sure why it felt important to list her achievements, but she was relieved when Aaron’s smile widened, conveying pride rather than the opinion he had previously held - that she was wasting her life in Starfleet. Aaron: I am pleased to hear that. You make us very proud. Trovek: Thank you. Aaron: What brings you to Bajor? Trovek: I am here for the celebration. Our Commodore was invited here, and he invited us to come along to spend some time here on vacation. Aaron: You don’t like vacations. His voice was calm, but he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head as if waiting for Arys to defend herself after being caught lying. It was patronising, and Arys had to actively tell herself not to get annoyed. Trovek: Not usually. But I actually came to see you. This time, Aaron wasn’t able to disguise his surprise and he furrowed his brow. Aaron: Really? Arys nodded, falling in step next to him as he turned and motioned to the pathway that led through the park. Trovek: Yes. I know we haven’t talked after grandfather’s death… but I want to change that. The death lay still heavy on her heart, and with it everything that had followed the demise. Aaron: And why is that? The tone was neutral, but there was a slight hint of resentment. Aaron hadn’t liked their grandfather, and their grandfather hadn’t liked Aaron - or Sileah. Trovek: Well, I’ve come to understand that family is… a complicated thing. ::she paused, considering her next words:: Mine grew. Once more, Aaron’s features stayed frozen in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and Arys wished she could take back the last two words. But what was done was done, and he would find out eventually. Aaron: How? Trovek: I am getting married. With a pleasant smile, he opened his arms slightly. Aaron: What a wonderful surprise. Tell me all about him. This was, probably, going to be the hardest part of her visit here - confessing to her brother that she was getting married to a Cardassian, and making sure that his reaction did not cause her to turn around and walk away again. Trovek: He is… a Cardassian Ambassador. Someone eager to create good relationships between Bajor and Cardassia, and the Federation as a whole. He’s kind. Kinder than many of the humans and Bajorans I have met. ::she paused, then added:: He is someone who acknowledges what Cardassia has done to Bajor. There was no outburst, no screaming, no insult. Instead, Aaron simply stopped walking. Aaron: I see. Arys sighed, and stood, regarding her older brother. She understood his sentiment, and she hadn’t expected him being accepting, let alone happy for her. He didn’t have to like Lukin, or the idea of Lukin. Aaron: You are very aware of my feelings towards Cardassians. ::He looked away and spoke without facing Arys:: Is that why you truly visited? To embarrass me and Mother? Arys wasn’t sure if those words hurt because Aaron believed that the universe revolved around him, or because he implied that Arys was interested in embarrassing him, or because he didn’t even consider the possibility that Arys’ relationship to Lukin was anything else than an embarrassment to the rest of her family. Trovek: I am not here for mother at all. I am here for you, but it looks to me like you’re deciding that the fact that I love a Cardassian means I am not worthy of your time. ::she took a calming breath, trying to banish the venom from her voice:: I get it. I get what they did, and I get the hatred that you feel towards them. Aaron: Do you really? Trovek: I do get it. I am not saying you’re wrong, but my Cardassian, my Lukin, he’s different. Aaron turned his face towards his sister, and narrowed his eyes. The smile had disappeared. Aaron: They are all different, and yet they are all the same. What he does for political gain does not speak to his true intentions. I didn’t think you were so naive, little sister. Arys was at a loss for words. Was this already the end of her efforts to save Aaron from the grasp of their mother and her false teachings? Trovek: We… ::she bit her lip:: We even adopted a little girl. A Cardassian-Bajoran hybrid. How many Cardassians do you know of who would adopt a hybrid? An orphan? Lukin and Arys had decided that he didn’t need to learn more than was absolutely necessary. He didn’t need to know Geleth’s name, nor who she was, nor what transpired in regard to the bracelet. Not yet. Arys was sticking to the plan, but once more she felt like she had already said too much. He seemed utterly surprised by her words, but at least he didn’t dismiss her entirely. Aaron: How? Why? Trovek: She.... was all alone. She was sick, needed treatment, and I just… fell in love with her. Aaron looked away again, and for a moment it seemed like he needed to gather his thoughts. Aaron: That… That changes things… Trovek: It does? Aaron nodded and faced her, the smile once more in place. Aaron: Yes. It’s still-… ::he shrugged and smiled at her.:: Well it will require some adjustment, and I doubt that Mother wants to hear anything about the matter. ::he paused:: And I won’t pretend I am pleased with you seeing a Cardassian. But I want to learn more about your child. Arys smiled and extended her hand, touching Aaron’s arm. Trovek: You will. I know we have disagreements, and I know you do what you do for a reason, but so do I. He reached for her hand and curled his own fingers around it, a little too firm for comfort. Aaron: It would be good if we reached an understanding of sorts. Trovek: The question is, can we be family even if we have different views on certain things? I mean… yes I don’t really… care… for your prophets, and you don’t care for my Cardassians, but… ::she shrugged:: Maybe that can move to the background? Aaron: For the sake of us being a family, I can make that effort for you. Arys nodded in relief. Trovek: Thank you. Aaron: Mother will not be so easily convinced of the right thing to do ::he pondered:: She has changed. Arys shook her head decidedly. She didn’t care about what Sileah thought, and if anything, it pleased her that Aaron was no longer fully enthralled by her. Trovek: I am not here for Mother. Aaron nodded, remained silent for a while, and eventually he asked: Aaron: Are you happy? He glanced at his sister, who replied with a smile. Trovek: Yes. For the first time in years I… really am. Aaron: That is all I need to know. [End Scene] Lt. Trovek Arys Chief Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops J239809TA4 And Trovek Aaron Religious Leader and kind of a jerk Bajor O238907VS0
  22. This is a really neat plot twist from @Lt Aine Olive Sherlock and a great ending to a personal storyline I really enjoyed ❤️
  23. Again @Arys gives us a great view into her character. And again I wasn't expecting the direction it took. I loved it.
  24. @TLea and @John Kendrick wrote such a bittersweet, beautiful JP between these two, and it's just so lovely. I love the spicy, but surprisingly heartfelt relationship they have going on can't wait to see where that goes in the end. This is both parts 1 and two together for proper reading delight.
  25. Really digging the vibe of the opening, and picking up on the passage (and the theme!) of time. Well done @Bryce Tagren-Quinn, fantastic writing! -- ((Unknown Location, Rogue Planet)) Tickticktickticktickticktickticktick. The sound of a wristwatch marched on, dinging off the rock walls of the damp converted caverns. With the acoustics in such a place, it was almost like music. Music, that made her think back to happier times. Easier times. Less conflicted times. Less tumultuous, less fighting. Her dark eyes watched the heartbeat of the second hand ticking away in a sort of visible jolted fashion on the watchface, her thoughts consumed by the memories of the wrist it once adorned. Her father’s. Shaking her head at the thought, she pushed down the gray-green sleeve of the ill-fitted jacket she wore, covering the watch, and blew out a breath. He often spoke about the past, of a world she never knew. A world he promised to show her, but died before even having gotten the chance. His final words were that of apologies, garbled as they were, a hand covered in blood reaching, trembling into her long dark, curly tresses as he laid on his back on the surface of this world. Her hair, wild and long and blowing in the wind, catching some of the blood. He said he was sorry he could never take her back. His eyes, once bright and blue, slipping into the depth of darkness by the second. But, it didn’t matter. It was a world she never experienced, never knew. His final words were focused on pieces that mattered to him and he failed to see how his passing ripped her apart in different ways. Her hand had found its way to his wrist, guiding his hand onto her cheek, thumb smearing red, as he shuddered out his final breaths. The past would not repeat itself. Voices traveled down the corridor. Lights positioned along the walls cast obscure shadows across various formations, some of which were used as a means to provide storage for some of the equipment… and others, places to lock potential threats. Pulling the courage from within, the tall form moved around a bended corner, catching sight of some of the elders, causing her steps to slow. She studied them, crossing her arms, her face slowly shifting from curiosity to anger. Lips, normally full but chapped, set in a firm line. After a moment or two of considering her moves, she charged forward, her wild hair flowing in thick curls behind her. A door opening, a scuffle… voices… Her feet carried her faster until she was there… with the interlopers, sealing the door behind her. Courage found in the plasma rifle slung across her body, heart beating wildly against the strap. The strange blue creature had… zh’Tisav: Human?! A pause, and rage coursed through her… zh’Tisav: Cardassian?! It was at this moment, she raised her hand and thumped down HARD onto the blue one’s head, disorientating the creature, and allowing it to loosen its hold on one of the elder’s throats. How… infuriating and dull could the elders be?! The human woman coughed a few times in pain before holding up a pleading hand. Rosenblatt: ::Raspy:: Please, this is all a big misunderstanding! They’re just kids! Ghaamar: They didn’t know what they were doing. Never even seen a runabout... O’ Marshall/ Fortune: response Kelley: I would hardly call myself a child! And a runabout? ::she laughed sardonically:: That’s not entirely true and you know it! She planted her hands on her hips, throwing back her head. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response Seething, she spun around at the group – a human male, a blue creature she thought now was called an Andorra, and a dark-eyed female – in strange uniforms. Uniforms with similar symbols to her father’s but that carried deception and pain before. This was HER home and she would be damned if she’d allow ANYONE to rip everything she knew away from her. Kelley: I wouldn’t listen to them. We know why you’re here. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response Kelley: Time and time again we’ve heard those same stories and every single time… someone dies. Her face twisted, her hand touching smoothed down faint features along her forehead. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response – Ark’Va Kelley ??? Rogue Planet As simmed by: Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D. Medical Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) T238909AT0
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