BBS 10-16-03 Quotes Of Infamy |
| Churas | Always a Salesman |
Fri Aug 08 |
Solok thumbs over towards Domino, "I think the decision on whether or not to try to escape has sailed." He heads over to Domino's bunk, beginning to dismantle it into individual aluminum rods. These he then fills with dirt to add weight, stuffing cloth in the ends to keep the dirt inside. "All right, the operation of these things is simple. You grab one end, and hit people with the other end. For your convenience, these are ambidextrous and fully-reversible. They work as well left-handed as right handed, and it doesn't matter which end you use." And he distributes variably-lengthed bits of weighted aluminum to the others.
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| Churas | Yeah, sure. |
Fri Aug 08 |
Heller looks back at Kzeviv. He cracks a grin, half-wistful, half-lascivious. "When she's good? Very very. When she's bad..." He tilts his eyebrows wiggling them slightly for emphasis. That done, he settles into a more reasonable approximation of sobriety, which isn't necessarily sober, but it is sincere. "She seems to have a knack for success. Look at it this way, she's set this up, seems rather experienced, in general, and the Tal Shaava didn't have a clue who she was." He waves his hand around while he talks. Solok's behaviour is met with a critical look, and a disbelieving, negatory smile. "That's aluminum, man. I couldn't knock out my grandmother with that." Heller adds, looking around the group innocently, "Not that I would."
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| Kotesh | Cost-Benefit Analysis |
Fri Aug 08 |
Solok sighs slightly, "Next time someone blackmails me into going on a wild goose chase, I'm going to just follow my instincts and have them beaten. It's generally more cost-effective, in the end."
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| Atlin | Courage Under Fire |
Fri Aug 08 |
Solok is currently within the bag, armed with a rifle. And sure, there's a conflict going on that could possibly use his support. But he's a Ferengi. And so he's remaining within the bag, and doing his best laundry impression.
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| Caeli | Eeeexcellent... |
Sat Aug 09 |
O'Rielly smiles when he sees the moon. "Excellent." He stands from his console, the logs forgotten for a moment. Caeli pauses in his configuration work to glance back at the Intelligence-officer-turned-Mr.-Burns. "Do you know what it is, Lieutenant? Might save us a probe if you do." O'Rielly taps his fingers together in no particular copyrighted motion. "I think I might, but send the probe anyway. I'm curious to see if it confirms."
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| Haven | The Truth Can Hurt |
Sat Aug 09 |
Jones says, "Well, while you're a patient. I can't very well ... you know, do medical things. So I'm asking now, in case you get all fussy and curmudgeonly once we get there." Haven frowns and turns back to the console before her. "I will, you know. And Gorgha will be just as bad. He hates having his hands tied this way." A sigh. She hates it as well. "I don't know. I'm not a good patient." Jones says, "I'm shocked. Shocked and surprised." Haven rolls her eyes and stabs out at a button on her console. ETA, nothing dangerous. "It's a good thing I find you cute.. or I'd kick your butt." Jones says, "Yeah, sometimes I rely on that, you know."
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| Harris | The Mail Department! |
Sun Aug 10 |
Cross steps out of the hall into Ops, carrying a PADD with him. He looks about the command center of the station for a moment before proceed over to the science station. On his way, He smiles and nods to Harris. "Good evening, Lieutenant. Rough shift?" He asks, sliding into the seat. "Rough doesn't begin to cover it," Harris grumbles, transmitting the first report out. "Hellish would be more like it." The coffee cup is grabbed, and a large portion of the brew inside slides down his throat. "Please don't tell me that you have any subspace messages that need to go out." Cross chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Luckly, no. I'm just double checking the sensors, making sure that they are properly calibrated. Something didn't seem right from Lab II." He pauses, looking down at his console for a moment before looking back up. "Anything I can help with?" "That all depends on if you want to be prioritizing all of the messages that go out of this station. Trust me... it's not pretty." Weary green eyes find the science officer. "I've had to read most every message that goes out of here. Romulan love letters, Klingon pornography, Bolian rotten meat recipes, Andorian..." Harris pauses, and then shakes his head as he looks back to his station. "You get the drift. On top of that, I've had four hours of sleep in the last forty-eight. I'm on my fifteenth straight cup of coffee today, and I didn't sleep with my fiancee for the first time in three weeks last night. So, if I come off as a bit... irritable, don't mind me." Can we say twitchy? Cross smiles and nods to him before he starts to diagnostic to compare it to his information from the lab, leaving the PADD on the console. He raises from his station walking over to the ops console. "Let me help if I can then. Oh, and if I see Ambassador Gr'laH, I'll ask him Klingon pornograph can be considered a priority." He says with a smirk before sighing. "I haven't been getting much sleep myself." With a grunt, Harris slides over. "Make sure that you have your asbestos underwear on. The complaint department is also this desk, and the Ferengi don't understand why the Klingon command reports go out before their liquidity reports, and the Zakdorn are up in arms because I put off the Strategema tournement results until after Starfleet transmissions are done." He frowns, taking another drink of his coffee. "And I signed up to explore strange new worlds, not sort mail."
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| Poole | Morphe... Cristobal? |
Sun Aug 10 |
Cristobal brings his blade down to block Poole's, turning the blow away. Rather than retaliating, he coaches, "Your blade is thinner and faster then mine. You should be moving quicker than me." "Oh?" Poole asks with a laugh, not discouraged in the slightest it would seem. She releases a hand from her weapon, swinging it in a quick flashy circle. "Let me see what I can do then..." Leaping forward, she brings the weapon across in a fast series of slashes. Cristobal without seeming to be overly taxed, turns the blade in his hands rapidly enough to deflect every incoming blow. He says semi-quietly, "What are you waiting for? You're faster than this. Don't think you are, /know/ you are?" He again waits for her attack.
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| Absyn | Shower |
Thu Aug 14 |
Talesin laughs softly, "Sleep well, then." he murmurs, squeezing your arm for a moment and hopping off the biobed. "Pleasant dreams. About something other than Sharra in a shower." he winks, heading for the exit, twirling his rose thoughtfully. They're thornless, of course, for multiple reasons. But still, they're very nice... You say, "I thought you said pleasent dreams..." Talesin grins, "I did. Dream of /me/ in the shower. My legs and bottom are better looking." he winks, "Later."
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| Churas | ... ambition? |
Thu Aug 14 |
Gr'laH inclines his head towards Churas with a firm grunt. That's settled at least. His arm comes to rest on his chair for a rather protracted and silent moment during which much of the tension, at least for him, begins to recede. His gaze shifts back to Churas, then back to the empty ring of couches around his chair. "I wonder at times how many guests they intended on one man having at a time." Gr'laH performs a quick head count. "How many children are you and Nathan planning? Try to stop at fifteen, I do not wish to give up my chair."
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| Starfleet | Spin The Bajoran |
Thu Aug 14 |
"I have been /very/ well actually I managed to get a few days away last week and had some really fine skiing with a quads outting group, you two /really/ should come along on the next one, even if you come as just a couple. Yes yes, I know you prefer the ocean but there are no thousand toothed hellbeasts on the slopes are there are out there. You know the Dominion was actually building bases down there during the war? Frightful! And to think your starfleet send Andorians down there in a submarine to put an end to them... and that famous Bajoran fellow from your station two, what's his name? Rann Havaris? Kusto Dakin?" Phellnun espouses while taking a piece of candy for himself and popping it in his mouth. Starfleet
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| Kireth | Data, with antennae |
Sat Aug 16 |
Kisa ruefully bunnynoses in Kireth's direction, antenna bobbing down then swiveling towards Cross. "Are you certain about me playing? We could talk about whatever you wish. I'm most intrigued by the Terran culture, its musical background. What is...disco?"
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| Caeli | Eat your wheaties. |
Sat Aug 16 |
Albertz lets out a loud "WOOHOO!" and races out of the fitness centre, grinning from ear to ear.
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| Churas | It's a gift, really. |
Tue Aug 19 |
Randal wanders into the Observation Garden, his boredom having mounted and his desire for even the slightest peek at whatever caused Yellow Alert to be declared in the expansive viewports found here. And, rather unexpectedly, has an even better view of the events than he could have bargained for. His eyes slide from the flash of blades as Churas duels with the unknown warrior, to where the Ambassador lies wounded on the grass. He sighs and mutters quietly to himself. "Bad timing. Bad timing. /Why/ do I always have bad timing?" He hunches down low and, trying to remain unnoticed for now, tries to make his way over to Gr'laH.
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| Churas | Thank you, dice. |
Tue Aug 19 |
Churas merely repeats, "Success," and rises from her chair. The female lumbers over to her father's biobed and leans over, resting her forehead against his. For a long time, she is simply still, one hand on the upper portion of his good arm, the other curled into her father's bloody hair. There's not much to Gr'laH at the moment. Ruined clothing, caked on and drying blood, sweat, gore, a stink of sickness that comes from belly wounds. Gr'laH, as Park had said, requires a bath. The whole biobed does. But he remains unconscious -- for now -- his biosigns pulsing, chirping, and spiking their way through continued living by science. Churas speaks very quietly to her father, right into his ear as she leans her forehead against his. Churas whispers to Gr'laH, "I knew it. I knew you were far too stubborn to die. You will be well again, Father. I will see you hold my daughter. I will see you hold Gharas. We will compare her features, discuss whose eyes she has, and whose toes. Mine. Nathan's. Yours. My mother's. His father's. You cannot die before that day. You know she will not allow it." <CONTEST> Gr'laH (claiming advantage) contests his Fitness (Vitality) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Succeeds! Churas may not, at once, be entirely aware of it, but Albertz likely is. Gr'laH's arm begins to lift from the biobed. It goes nowhere in particular, simply turning at the wrist to slowly lower back down atop Churas' head. That's probably her first clue, really. When his lips slowly crack open, that's probably clue number two. "Where," he asks firstly, "is my D'k tagh?"
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| Caeli | Don't let him into your home. |
Tue Aug 19 |
"It's tradition, Zip. I *need* to get her father's permission before I can marry her." Robert sighs, glancing at the door into the bedroom. "I owe her that much, no matter how much I'm tempted to just elope." Another sigh. "Damn romantic tendencies sometimes." "all ercies," Zip grins, taking a loud sip of the broth. "Ah eas you ave er." "Yeah... at least I have her," Robert agrees softly as he continues to stir what he's cooking. "And that's enough for me." Caeli snorts. "Ih ough oo ee, or ah'd eat you 'enseless." "You'd eat me?" Robert glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. He'd heard the rumors, but... and then it clicks. "Oh. Beat me. Don't do that, Zip. You scared me half to death." He offers the Bolian a friendly grin and a laugh to ease the moment. Caeli rolls his eyes. "Yoo 'ry alking wif 'ores in your 'ouf."
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| Churas | Sandwiches |
Wed Aug 20 |
"/I/ didn't tell anyone you greying old baboon," Cristobal grumbles quietly. He then grouses, "Someone get him a sandwich. Keep his mouth closed for a few seconds." "IT IS TOO LATE, NOW, FOR TALK OF SANDWICHES!" Gr'laH shoots that back towards Cristobal sourly. "DAMN YOU AND YOUR LOGIC! DAMN YOU AND YOUR... YOUR... /RAT FACE/!
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| Spider | Perspective? |
Wed Aug 20 |
. o O Gr'laH thinks "Can I get you anything, Ambassador? YES! BLOODWINE! No, Ambassador, can't have that. Can I get you anything Ambassador? SOMETHING TO EAT! No, sorry...! BAH! They ask that question for the sole purpose of giving me something to complain about-- Huh. Awful nice of them."
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| Albertz | I am so getting a set of those! |
Wed Aug 20 |
Ora'thras wraps one arm around Anu's neck and holds on tight. The other hand starts to scratch at his belly through his Captain Sisko jammies. You know, the Starfleet Command ones with the printed-on captains pips and the feeties and the printed-on medals? Yep. Those ones.
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| Spider | Things you never thought you'd say |
Wed Aug 20 |
From Albertz's comm badge, Poole says, "Acknowledged. Duck and cover, incoming monkey. Poole out."
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| Kireth | Decency and tolerance |
Wed Aug 20 |
Torin mutters some more, "Triple dmaned Andorians, ain't got no decency. Just go about waltzing in whatever they will. No respect for common sensibilities." Mutter mumble frumble. Kireth smiles to Torin. "We love you too, pinkskin."
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| Donavon | It comes out |
Wed Aug 20 |
Robert tries not to say it, but... it slips out. "Damn dirty ape," he mutters, absently rubbing at his lips.
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| Anu | Not Under Warranty |
Thu Aug 21 |
Medes opens her mouth as if to say something, but Nevaren's stirring causes her to look over at her boss, and blink a few times. Fortunately, there's Gr'laH's speech to distract her from the charbroiled albino, and she offers the old Klingon a softly spoken, "Amen," before turning back to Caeli. "Uhm. You should probably learn sign. Cochlear implants can get blown out if, like, a console blows up on you, or sometimes if you get shot with a phaser, or, uh, if you get electrocuted... " A pause. "I... know every way to break cochlear implants that has ever been invented."
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| Spider | When Kindergarden Teachers Attack |
Thu Aug 21 |
Anu swings her head around to regard Cadet Torin just as he steps in and is identified by his comm badge. There are deep circles under her eyes, and her expression is drawn and wan. Slowly, she rises from her chair, smoothing her skirt, standing in the midst of the blue bodies of her family in their biobeds, sleeping peacefully. She draws in a slow breath, closing her eyes, stretches with her arms high above her head. She is indeed the picture of calmness and serenity. That is, before she steps forward, fixes Torin with a Look of Hatred and begins spewing forth a stream of unbroken invective in colloquial... Swedish? Icelandic? Some Scandinavian Terran variant that calls into question the parentage and legitimacy of every generation of Torin's family in recent memory and builds to a generalized scream that boils down to 'YOUR DAMN MONKEY ALMOST KILLED MY BABIES, YOU SLAGGING MORON!' Torin winces quietly at the scream and winces, "I...I'm sorry. He had his shots before he left...I just think." He frowns and sighs and falls quiet. "Apologize to him! He's =deaf= because of this!" She points at Caeli. "Though you'll have to write it down. Apologize to my little boy, who contracted another childhood illness he hasn't yet been inoculated for because his immune system was suppressed because of this!" She points at Ora'thras. "Apologize to my little girl! To my husband!" Anu spits on the floor at Torin's feet. "That's what I think of your monkey."
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| Caeli | In the presence of greatness |
Thu Aug 21 |
(On Biobed 3) Nevaren settles a bit in the bed, trying to relax as much as he possibly can. He isn't one for laying around, even when injured.. Though too much movement at the moment and he wants to double over. He grumbles, trying to get comfortable, but just can't. "Damnit.. who the hell used this bed before me.." he grumbles, "There's the two huge divots beneath my butt." "I dunno, but whoever it was totally wrecked my butt-groove in my favorite biobed," Medes replies, shaking her head in mock perturbation.
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| Havaris | Drinking... Buddies? |
Thu Aug 21 |
Havaris slips through the doors to the Neutral Zone, rubbing at the back of his neck with a singularly sour expression. Stupid quarantines. And rather than go home and sleep it off like an intelligent person Havaris heads to the bar. The nice, empty bar. Except there's a Randal here. Which is, really, the ideal punctuation to his day. He slides up to a stool and plops down with a singular declaration of intent, "Race you to the floor." Randal peers over at Havaris, and considers the proposition. It's not that Randal's truly competitive... but he does have a reputation to uphold and an image to portray. So, he smirks and says, "You're on."
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| Havaris | And The Winner Is...? |
Thu Aug 21 |
Havaris lifts his glass and bottle and moves closer to Randal since he didn't go and slide the glass back. Already about the refills, he is. The glasses are topped to the two finger mark and then the bottle is set down. Once again, Havaris snaps back his drink with a squint, this time ending with a shake of the head and a tart smacking of the lips. "Good stuff, isn't it." Randal, having finished his second hit as well, responds more readily (perhaps getting acclimated to the drink), "Not bad at all." He smirks. "You're one of the last persons I would have imagined sharing a drink with, to be honest. I can't imagine it's because I'm the only one around." He watches Havaris intently. Warily, perhaps. <CONTEST> Havaris contests his Fitness (Vitality) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Dramatically Fails! <CONTEST> Randal contests his Fitness (Vitality) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds! "Maybe I'm getting you drunk to milk you for information," Havaris offers a wry grin for a moment before it falters somewhat. He finishes his thought, all the same, "used... to be in Security... you know." All at once the color starts draining rather rapidly from his face. With the last bit of presence of mind afforded him, Havaris rummages in the inside of his uniform jacket to scrabble for his pill-bottle Not that Randal knows he has one. He rattles it once or twice before fumbling it about in his fingers, squinting at the interaction warnings. "Oh... Sh..." Havaris wins the race to the floor. He drops off of his stool to the floor like a sack of potatoes, pill bottle rattling across the floor in a nifty little circle. The din of the bar gets strangely quiet. Then someone laughs, and the silence is broken, returning the Zone to a counterpoint chorus of voices. Randal sighs and glances over to Milara with a slight smile as that Bolian trickster at the other end of the bar cracks up. "Amateurs." She scowls at him, of course. He does extend Havaris the courtesy of not peering at the prescription on the pill bottle, but looks down at him and says, "It was a nice thought. Might have even worked. Though next time I suggest you try 'good cop, bad cop.' Might I recommend Lt. Turtledove as your counterpart, perhaps?" He grins mischieviously. Havaris flops his hands over his face before offering Randal a gesture that's still rather impolite in the 24th century. Witty retorts don't come handily out of sick-drunk bodies, so that will have to do. Rather than attempt to regain his dignity, Havaris winds up flopping an arm over his face to shield his eyes while swatting about for the bottle of pills he's missing. Good floor. Nice floor. Stop moving.
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| Taevan | A wise man once said... |
Thu Aug 21 |
Cristobal nods at O'Carroll and says, "One of the first things I learned aboard this station was that when politics comes up in this bar, the best thing to do is immediately fill my mouth with something, preferably between eighty and ninety proof." And with that he leans back just a bit, upending his glass into his mouth and wincing.
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| Caeli | God help us all. |
Thu Aug 21 |
Gr'laH is snoring. This should be a fair indication of how the Ambassador is doing. He grumbles a bit at Vala's words, shifts from side to side on his biobed, and tolls onto his side with a grunt. Or sort of onto his side, at least. Beware the backless infirmary attire and the massive hairy Klingon butt. It's not for the weak.
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| Caeli | Monkeys, redux. |
Thu Aug 21 |
Vala notices the monkey, "Why is there a monkey in the infirmary?" Caeli reads this off his PADD, and purses his lips. BOLIAN POPULATION CONTROL, comes the reply from his speech synthesizer. Vala laughs, "Yes Zip, sounds interesting. I will have to ask Dr Park" Caeli rolls his eyes and slumps back onto the bed, tapping out his reply. I WAS BEING SARCASTIC. Sometimes you just can't get the message across in /monotone/.
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| Cristobal | Animals of another sort |
Thu Aug 21 |
Donavon pipes up loudly after viewing her PADD. "Blue wonder says thanks and hopes Churas and the wee one are doing well." Cristobal nods and says, "They are. Churas is tired, but well, and Gharas continues her intrauterine Mok'bara course on schedule." Donavon grins in response, good news lighting a situation. "One could never doubt that either was not doing well. They both come from good," she pauses to ponder a split second on the use of this farm term, then laughs at what she's about to say, "stock." Cristobal snorts and says, "I'll pass your compliment on to the Ambassador. No doubt he will bray with pride."
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| Caeli | Another day, another dollar |
Thu Aug 21 |
From Infirmary's communications terminal, Valen says, "Ops here, Lieutenant. Requesting station check." Into her comm badge, Vala says, "Zip wishes he could talk, we have a filthy monkey, and Ambassador Gr'laH insists on showing us all his posterior. Other than that, we're just peachy."
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| Medes | Guard Your Hair |
Thu Aug 21 |
Jiasha notices good old Torata with the gestue, which she takes for a wave. The smile kicks up a notch, she wrinkles her nose up. Happy to have seen him. That, of course, until she catches ear of the comments over her bigididity from the formidable Leiutenant Hot Lips-- eeer. Havaris. Everyone's favorite terrifying Ops-master. Sliiiides a look over her shoulder. One of those little sister I'll kill you or at least cut your hair into a stupid shape when you sleep sort of mischevious squints.
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| Albertz | Simian Cliches Abound |
Thu Aug 21 |
Gr'laH stirs a bit on his bed, muttering once more to himself. "I grow tired of this monkey business." Someone had to say it.
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| Gr'laH | One Big Happy |
Fri Aug 22 |
If eyerolling made noise, the room would be filled with a thunderous din. Oh yes. All the same, Churas shoots Cristobal a 'thank you, but careful, here, Mr. Foot-in-Mouth' look before grinning back at her father just so. She continues to drink her water in relative silence, while Iliara pulls a brief face at the idea of bedtime. Bedtime! BOO FOR BEDTIME! "No," the Tinyzoid grouches a little. "I c'n do it myself." And so grumble off she does to do what she must. (She is learning, after all, from the master of such things.) Cristobal gives Churas a 'What, me?' shrug before having another sip of his drink. He watches Iliara with amusement before asking Churas, "So what kind of clothing do Klingon infants wear?" Gr'laH makes a play-scowl face at Iliara, shaking his head shaggily with a feral little growl. BOO FOR BEDTIME! "I will send the bunny of torture and death after you! And then there will be the cuddle monster. And sleep." He watches the little girl turn into a blur at a distance and shifts his gaze back to Cristobal. "If little Gharas is to be like Churas, as little as possible as often as possible. I thought, perhaps, she was Risan for quite some time. Only happy when squirming about atop a fur like a nascent Andorian." Here, Cristobal, have an embarassing story about your wife! Cristobal nods and absoutely cannot refrain from inserting, "Very little has changed," as Mr. Lightning Rod apparently decides to throw himself in front of Gr'laH in regards to any Churas-originated anger. "You mean she refrains from wearing you like a diaper?" Gr'laH glances aside at Churas. "How appropriate." "Nuh-uh 'cause I am too strong for the bunny of torture and deafs!" Iliara replies, making her teeth show like a growl before she tromps off to actually change. Churas, on the other hand, just drops her ridged forehead into a hand and groans. Greaaaaat.
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| Caeli | Life is good. |
Fri Aug 22 |
And lo and behold, thusly slips in Poole, the /other/ half of Caeli's Harem of Luscious Women.
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| Taevan | So was Idrani. |
Sat Aug 23 |
Ghorev's brow furrows hard. "Easy, Mister Harris." He leans forward. "Remember to breathe. The time stream is a harsh mistress."
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| Sharei | Creative Self-Amusement |
Sat Aug 23 |
Torin remains playing with his monkey....he's relaxing...kinda...He appears to be directing a small play, probably teaching the monkey how to act with small subtle triggers.
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| Journey | Here I come to save the.. Oooh! Pr |
Sun Aug 24 |
O'Rielly just raises his eyebrows for a moment and starts to sip at his drink. He turns back to Jub, who he hasn't really talked to much. "And how are the stars treating you Captain?" Jub sips his ale, refreshing his palatte with the crip flavour of a spring boch. "They treat me righ, lad. At least lately. Business is better then before I was shot up. Maybe I got a good reputation, 'eaven protect me." O'Rielly grins to Jub, "Well, to survive what you've been though, I'd have to agree that something is watching over you with interest." Jub snorts, almost draining his beer in a few hearty slugs. He sets down teh pint and wipes at his lips with a gloved hand. "Oh yah... Something is watching over me.. It just becomes distracted once in a while.. probably watchin' tha springball finals on tha datanet." . o O Jub thinks "If I ever meet me Guardian Angel.. I am so goin ta kick 'is lilly white and feathery arse!"
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| Caeli | Engineers in love |
Sun Aug 24 |
Caeli grins, and feigns thinking for a few moments. ALRIGHT. DID YOU HAVE A VERY TUMULTUOUS LOVE LIFE BEFORE YOU MET LT. HAVARIS? . o O Medes's brain gets all crowded up with Havaris again. Disgustingly in love, this one. Medes is all in love with stupid girly pink hearts and flowers and kittens. But it's okay, because the kittens have plasma torches.
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| Taevan | Get off my monkey |
Sun Aug 24 |
Torin nods, "Yeah, probably. Good luck." He chuckles, "And you get some rest yourself mmm? Don't want you tired when your playing around with my monkey." Haven grins and nods, "I'll do that." Then she turns away as his words seem to sink in differently then what was intended. Ewww.
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| Harris | Yeah, right! |
Sun Aug 24 |
Grinning, Harris turns to face Randal fully. "While I've got you here, I was wondering if you'd be willing to be one of the groomsmen at my wedding." His face splits in a wide grin. "If I can convince you to stop being a scoundrel and rogue long enough to put on a tuxedo, at least." The din of the bar gets strangely quiet. Then someone laughs, and the silence is broken, returning the Zone to a counterpoint chorus of voices.
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| Magret | That's one way to put it. |
Sun Aug 24 |
"Brawling?" Randal says. "At a wedding?" This seems to puzzle him. "You're joking, right? I thought a wedding was supposed to be about tedious ceremonies and expensive receptions, and fussy parents and uncomfortable monochromatic clothing. At least, that's the impression I've gotten." From watching holovids, anyway.
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| Atlin | The Anti-Gazelle? |
Tue Aug 26 |
Qem'et does not move across the cafe with the grace of a gazelle. She is... the anti-gazelle. She is what a gazelle would be if the things were built practically, to avert attacks by big predatory cats and such... a gazelle with armor. A -surly- gazelle. With armor. Who stomps a lot. Which is what she is doing, currently, shouldering her way to her uncle's table. Upon reaching it, she clasps her hands behind her back. "Q'pla, Uncle."
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| Taevan | The Geraldo Maneuver |
Tue Aug 26 |
K'net-mauri picks up the chair he was so recently sitting on, and hurls it with considerable force, sending it tumbling through the air towards that second guard as the Trelan moves towards Lis. <CONTEST> K'net-mauri contests his Athletics (Throwing) skill vs Trelan Guard's Dodge skill and Succeeds!
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| Javits | New take on an old tune. |
Tue Aug 26 |
Gr'laH leads the procession out. One massive, two massive, three massive Klingons. And one old stick in the mud.
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| Treal | Latest financial venture |
Wed Aug 27 |
. o O Randal thinks "You know what this station needs? An all-night tatoo parlor."
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| Taevan | When in doubt... |
Wed Aug 27 |
... claim you're a God. (Taevan, while cornered in a shuttlecraft by primitives with swords and bows) "You two, go in it and see what you can find," orders the leader. Ah, the joys of delegating responsibilities. The two Trelans targetted for this job look at the shuttle, then their then back to the shuttle. With a sigh of submission, they begin to search for a way in. Oh look, a shattered viewport... ... Where they find a rather placid looking Taevan, with hands serenely clasped at the small of his back. "Greetings and benedictions," he offers with a slow incline of his head. "My awakening has been a long, long time in coming. Today marks the first day in a new era for our people."
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| Sharei | Um... Get a Hobby |
Wed Aug 27 |
. o O Churas vividly fantasizes about Klingon tactical consoles. Not like /that./ About using them to blow things up! . o O Qem'et fantasizes about Klingon tactical consoles. LIKE THAT!
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| Atlin | How do YOU define Evil? |
Wed Aug 27 |
Taevan begins murmuring in Federation Standard. It's mostly nonsense about how much he hates Jaylas Idrani and how Gr'laH is a spoiled baby who must bellow for what he wants. When he deposits the translator on the Trelan, though, he shifts to something remotely meaningful. Or not, depending on your perspective. "...and let this man's soul be cleansed of the impure, the evil, the malice, the Gr'laH. Let him converse with us in the Sacred Tongue. Can you hear me, child?"
|
| S'veralis | Ask and ye shall receive |
Wed Aug 27 |
. o O S'veralis thinks "Elements where is the search parties? What I would not give for a squad of Tal'Shaven troops right now." The fighting break out again - until interrupted by a loud boom that send particles of dirt from the street spraying upwards. Then an elongated, green teardrop crashes into the ground, sending more debris flying through the air as the Trelans gasp and scatter. Up in the sky, a green shuttle with wings and a pointed head zooms by.
|
| Havaris | Locker Room Talk |
Thu Aug 28 |
Park smiles and says, "Sounds good. I'll get the authorization for the meds to you, that should help out enough for her to conceive. Then just let me know if she wants to get the prenatal materials and I'll get those to you as well." "Well. Not enough. There's other bits between the shot and the conception that need to happen first. But I'll see what I can do to help with that." Kusto grins for a momen, winking on the sly. Shh. "These meds? No interactions with my prescriptions now? Nothing else I need to be aware of with them?" Park shakes his head, "I already checked your current meds and there is no interaction with what I'll give you. And I REALLY don't want to know about your sex life with Thea. That's too close to having a brother in law talking about your sister." Park grins at that. Look ma, I'm funny! "Are you sure about that, now?" Kusto asks with a wider grin, "because it's /really good/!" Havaris takes all of three seconds to grin maliciously before throwing his head back for a brief peal of laughter. Ah, good times.
|
| Caeli | Said to two klingons. |
Thu Aug 28 |
Treal shakes her head to Qem'et. "Unfortunately, though put in the bottle alive, it quickly drowns. The test, is that most Terrans don't eat bugs. As well, the worm has aged with the alcohol, so is pretty much pure alcohol itself. If you could imagine eating something like that."
|
| Medes | Feudal Fleet? |
Sun Aug 31 |
Into her comm badge, Medes is grinning. It's audible. "Evan! In accordance with your title as the Claustrophobic Slacker God of Communication and Sensor Thingamabobs, I demand that you acknowledge me as the Supreme Overlord of All Core Systems, and swear fealty to me." A pause. "Or you can just say, 'Congrats, boss.' I'll accept either, really." From Medes's comm badge, Blair pauses for a second. "I do so swear fealty to thee, milady." The wicked grin is nearly audible, even. "D'you want your crown, a robe, a jewel-encrusted hydrospanner, or shall I just bring a bottle of champagne by one of these days?"
|
| Caeli | Priorities. |
Sun Aug 31 |
Poole smirks at something Caeli says as she continues to gaze at the stars. And she answers him, loud enough for it to carry, "I may be dead, but I'm still pretty."
|
| Haven | It's All In The Outlook |
Mon Sep 01 |
Gorgha says, "Scaring after surgery would have been pointless. The trick is knowing how close to surgery to...motivate a doctor and it's an art that I'm quite familiar with. Were he a true battle-surgeon he wouldn't have batted an eye at my...suggestions. I've had former High-Chancellors of the Empire attempt to intimidate me into performing better and none of them has ever made me change an iota of my medical practices. It's a matter of character, really."
|
| Lao | Lao's Hormones Are In The Right Pl |
Mon Sep 01 |
Lao nods. "Good to know, good to know." He replicates another pair of teas, and brings one back to Poole, keeping the other for himself. "I'm glad to hear that sex lives are good for two-thirds of our impromptu gathering." He turns to Zip. "What -you- need, my friend, is a good half-breed with some genetic disorder and lots of scar tissue, with a twisted upbringing. Or...three Andorians. Either will do." Poole smirks and adds a third option, "Or my sister." Caeli grins, mostly down into the juice as he takes another sip. "I think the third option, believe it or not, might be the easiest to come by." Lao turns to Poole. "Is she as ravishing a beauty as you? Tell me you're twins. Please. Please be twins. Identical twins. I'm -sure- we can make my quad a quint!" Lao is grinning particularly impishly now.
|
| Caeli | Earth Euphemisms Suck |
Mon Sep 01 |
Treal bounces her foot, where she sits on the desk, legs crossed. She quietly looks between the gathered officers, sends Poole a nod, then looks to Crayn. "Interesting analogy," she murmurs, then shrugs. "When given lemons, make lemonade. S'what my daddy used to always say." Novairen makes an uhg sound and holds up her hand. "New standing order. I never want to hear about lemon or lemonade again. If anyone hands me a bag of lemons I'm going to beat them unconcious with it."
|
| Caeli | Political Correctness in the 2370s |
Mon Sep 01 |
Novairen kinds of makes a grimace when Dakin asks her that. She looks back and forth at the assembled security officers. "I suppose, but you all have to understand, Presidential and government security is quite a bit different from what we're dealing with here. With the President we had incrediably leeway to identify and neutralize anything that could be construed as a threat. Short of breaking the law or severely inconveniencing him we could do what was necessary. That's not going to fly here. But what I did learn is this. The most important things for a successful security initiative is resources and cooperation. You need the women, money, and equipment, and you need the cooperation of The Boss. Both of which we're lacking here." Caeli appends, "And men. Women and men. Personnel, if you will."
|
| Caeli | Understandings. |
Mon Sep 01 |
Caeli enters the Zone, in his black shiny getup, and waves to Novairen with a bright smile as he passes her. Hi, drunk Laura!. Novairen just smiles back as she passes by Caeli. Hi, person trying to take my job!
|
| Lux | Knowing one's buyer |
Tue Sep 02 |
Haven holds a hand to her chest, mock shock on her features. Green eyes close for a moment as she feels for her heartbeat. Then she blinks her eyes open and looks at Lux. "Whew.. I thought for a moment my heart had stopped and I'd died." Oh yeah, she's teasing Lux but c'mon.. fear Ferengi offering to /buy/ drinks.. and not asking for the money spent to be paid back.. with interest.
|
| Churas | Oif |
Tue Sep 02 |
Trying to conceal the shudder, he laughs and says, "If the bait for the snare happens to be an attractive Klingon woman, please allow /another/ member of your father's crew to serve? He /must/ have such. If not he should really review his recruiting policies." A raucous laugh escapes from Churas at that. "No. The bait will not involve attractive female Klingons at all. I could allow my cousin to stand in my place, however, if that were the case." Feigning misunderstanding, Cristobal says, "I had no idea Ha'nuQ looked so well in a dress."
|
| Churas | Cash Up Front? |
Tue Sep 02 |
"At any rate, we're on his ship right now. The question of whether or not we can trust him is relatively academic." Solok shrugs slightly, adding, "If he wants us dead, he can just flood the room with something toxic. Or some sort of plasma." Another pause, and then he adds, "You didn't pay in advance, I hope."
|
| Donavon | Wind? What wind? |
Tue Sep 02 |
"I'd say tell your mother hello," wouldn't that make her Meg's daughter-in-law? Eeek! Blinking, she just tries to keep that smile and waves at Hurley. "May the wind be at your back, Christine Hurley." Hurley is just about to step out the door, but confusion at Meg's last comment just overwhelms her. She stops, takes a moment to consider what was just said, blinks, then looks over her shoulder towards Meg, unable to hide her pure confusion. "We're on a starbase. There... is no wind... in the pgrogrammed environment."
|
| Medes | Uhoh. |
Wed Sep 03 |
From Medes's comm badge, Cristobal says, "I sound old and crotchety for saying this, but some of the newer officers...I think the Academy is paying the price for churning them out quicker during the war. True we needed the manpower, but it seems like a lot of the fundamentals have been left behind in favor of extra weapons training." Into her comm badge, Medes says, "A-slagging-men, Nathan. A-slagging-men. And you know what, if that makes me old and crochety? I've already got the hearing aids, give me a cane and I'll start chasing the whippersnappers around with it." From Medes's comm badge, Cristobal says, "I'll keep that in mind when your birthday rolls around."
|
| Havaris | Where Courage Goes to Die |
Thu Sep 04 |
Gurdek leans back into his seat a little. Daring to taunt those around him by being comfortable while he sips his drink. As a further affront on the station and its residents, he looks about him with a faint smile on his face. Then? Then he takes another sip of his drink and seems to savour it. When will these monstrosities end?
|
| Treal | Today is Tomorrow's History |
Sat Sep 06 |
Treal hmms. "I like all kinds of music," she says softly. "Some I don't. Like.. this 'Rap' music? From the 20th century!" She takes another drink, offering you the bottle. "What exactly is a ho? And why would you want to put a cap into someone?" Blair looks at the bottle for a moment before politely declining. "HO? Like a reversed hydroxide complex?" he asks curiously. "Maybe they were trying to further education. Kinda like a public service. I'm not sure how you'd put a cap -into- someone, though, other than...antiquated dental work?"
|
| Caeli | At least they're honest |
Sun Sep 07 |
Into his comm badge, Caeli says, "Wait. What did the captain mean, if it wasn't what the report said?" From Caeli's comm badge, Novairen says, "Something along the lines of uncomfortable objects and bodily orifices if the escort wasn't removed immediately." Into his comm badge, Caeli laughs. "This is why I love having Andorians in command."
|
| Donavon | Midnight |
Tue Sep 09 |
Albertz readies himself for the next serve, meaning business this time but never gets the chance as he's summoned to the infirmary. "Ach...sorry Meg, haftae run!" He hightails it out of the holodeck, forgetting his sandals even. Celtic Cinderella.
|
| Treal | Taunting 101 - By Gwen Poole |
Tue Sep 09 |
. o O Gwen Poole thinks "I -still- have your SEEAAAT. I'm RUINING YOOOOUURRRR BUTT GROOOVE."
|
| Caeli | Rank hath its privileges |
Tue Sep 09 |
Taking notice of the look from the bar makes Gwen focus even more intently on the PADD in front of her. She's working. Can't you see the focus? It's important work. Senior Officer type work. Or at least, that's what it looks like until she starts frowning and the tip of her tongue can be seen as she taps furiously at the PADD. Finally there is a series of down beat notes and a soft (but taunting) verbalized 'Game Over' in Federation Standard.
|
| Caeli | If you're going to do something... |
Sat Sep 13 |
Treal has by now fallen silent, and sunk back against the main desk. Arms crossed beneath her breasts, she studies the ground wondering just where her shovel is. She's not digging her hole fast enough. Maybe it's time to get contract bids to dig her hole more efficiently.
|
| Cristobal | One guess who she's talking about |
Sun Sep 14 |
Poole nods in understanding to Nev, "I know... I'm trying to indicate to her as much... she's just a very stubborn woman, is all. And her husband makes her just that much more stubborn. It's stubborn: squared."
|
| Caeli | The legend continues |
Mon Sep 15 |
And in the doors come another three people joining the crowd. The medium height of the three is laughing up towards the darker, taller man next to her who's arm she clings to at the moment, her fingers linked tightly in his. He is dressed.. well, half dressed, really, in a pair of swimming shorts and sandals, and she in a fuzzy robe, open to reveal almost all of the deep red bathing suit beneath, fluffed blonde hair and a pair of rather sleeker sandals on her feet. The third figure, even shorter, is on the tall man's other arm, looking a bit distracted, but nonetheless lovely in a dress a bit more formal than her companions, an actual /dress/ is on her. Yes, folks! If you guessed the Poole sisters and Zip Caeli, you guessed right! As hard a guess as that was. Crayn looks to Treal and Cross as they exit.. "Funny.. I didn't know Hugh hefner was still alive.....and blue?"
|
| Turtledove | Mars Needs Women, Baby |
Wed Sep 17 |
Golden says, "In ancient earth culture it was believed Mars was inhabited by native life; one of the popular visions of them was green skinned with Anttenae, so this is what the danglyboppers is about. Going Martian." He takes his seat with a thanks and slips off his hat, placing the wriggleys to sit atop it, then places it back on his head. "Hail MARS! ANGRY RED PLANET! WE SHALL CRUSH YOUR INSIGNIFICANT BLUE PLANET! AND TAKE YOUR WOMEN!"" Golden then hooks himself up with a drink with an umbrella in it.
|
| Hurley | Naughty Cross! |
Sun Sep 21 |
Cross pauses and turns to look at the quiet coming from the family table. He looks to Milara and waves her over to speak quietly to her for a moment. Blutox glares at a patron who is getting overly friendly with Milara.
|
| Caeli | The Truth Hurts |
Sun Sep 21 |
Donavon arrives from the mall, the entrance's double doors sliding silently closed behind her. Donavon has arrived. There is a gale of hearty laughter from some of the traders near the bar.
|
| Havaris | The Sorry Truth |
Mon Sep 22 |
From Havaris's comm badge, Gwen Poole says, "Hi Kusto... I was wondering if you were going to the reception tonight." Into his comm badge, Havaris says, "I am sort of... yes. I'm at the Edge now, actually. All dressed up. Alone, no less. Thea can't make it." From Havaris's comm badge, Gwen Poole says, "Could I be your date?" Into his comm badge, Havaris says, "Nevaren can't make it?" From Havaris's comm badge, Gwen Poole says, "Not until late, and ... you owe me a dinner by ourselves." Into his comm badge, Havaris says, "Sure. I'll likely duck out when Nevaren shows. I don't mix well with crowds on my lonesome." From Havaris's comm badge, Gwen Poole says, "I won't leave you alone. Promise." Into his comm badge, Havaris says, "I don't mix well with Nevaren, either."
|
| Gwen Poole | Dave's Not Here, Man |
Wed Sep 24 |
The Channel is once again silent, though open. The sound of shuffling can be heard, telling everyone that it wasn't a real recording to begin with. A different Pak'led voice answers this time.. His voice a bit deeper and, if possible, slower then the first ones. "'Tennent Commander Pool?" it asks... "Tennet Commander Pool' not here!" More silence... and maybe a few giggles.
|
| Crayn | Mr. Social (Anti) |
Thu Sep 25 |
Havaris might have caught that finger-wiggle. He glances Lanie's way with a look of vague uncertainty, offering her a sedate nod that is meant to be a middle ground between having seen a thing and thinking he might be mistaken. It is a reply and a greeting on a fulcrum of social awkwardness. And then there was wine in his hand, and that ended in a sip.
|
| Javits |
|
Thu Sep 25 |
Winters chuckles lightly, not understanding the whole Harris/Hurley thing... it's probably a 24th century version of the odd couple. He doesn't look like the kind of guy who'd let lint live long and she seems to be the kind that would leave her shoes in the fridge by accident. He turns back to Javits and grins once again, "Looking forward to the fun already, Lieutenant." And then he adds, "I'll be in earshot if you need me." He nods respectfully to Javits and starts to turn about to head to the turbolift, but not before sending a quick wink in Hurley's direction. "Hm." And then Harris turns back to his console, fingers working. Forward to Inbox - ENS Winters: Application to Wink at My Granddaughter, accompanied by picture of the Harris clan out hunting.
|
| Isole | The Truth about Cats and Dogs |
Thu Sep 25 |
Randal starts to sigh, but is cut off as reality seems to rearrange itself via the wonder that is the holodeck. "Wow. Nice job," he comments with sincere admiration. It is, after all, an impressively detailed simulation. "You know, one of these days someone's going to walk into one of your holoprograms and forget that it isn't real." He chuckles. Isole folds her hands at her back, examining the lobby of the grand mansion with a sedately pleased smile. She blushes a touch at the compliment, ticking up a shoulder and toeing at the floor with an utterly bashful grin. "Maybe that's what I'm after." She starts off at a lazy amble, arms folding across her stomach. "Reality is just perception. Right?" Randal nods. "I suppose. I never really gave it too much thought. Although, ironically enough, I remember having a similar sort of debate with one of the Bajoran clerics that's on the station now." He chuckles. "It was in the bar, not the temple, incidentally." He gets distracted by the crossing of a particularly notable example of female Deltan physiognomy. She's apparantly already occupied by the attentions of one of the computer-generated clients, but there's nothing in the rules against browsing. "Anyway, what were we talking about?" "That Deltan's boobs?" Isole offers this with a measure of distraction herself, head tilting to the side with a slight grin. "Metaphysics or something. I don't know."
|
| T'Lyna | Don't mess with the butt crease |
Thu Sep 25 |
Into her comm badge, T'Lyna says, "Sir, request permission to make use of the Operations office for a meeting with Security and Engineering personnel, concerning the matters discussed in report 94." From T'Lyna's comm badge, Havaris says, "You want to requisition my office?" Havaris considers this. "You leave my butt-crease alone, and nobody touches my coffee mug. Those terms given, by all means." Into her comm badge, T'Lyna says, "*there is an extended pause as the Vulcan considers these directives* Aye sir. We'll... ah, we'll use the couch, sir. Thank you. T'Lyna out." ...a few moments later... T'Lyna steps into the office and glances toward Havaris' desk, her brow furrowing slightly as she moves behind it to study the chair for a moment. Shaking her head slightly, she moves back out to the front side of the desk and crosses to the couch, taking a seat and pulling out her PADD. "Good evening. I am unsure if we have met previously... I am Customs Inspector T'Lyna." Crayn nods as he was just standing in the room but a moment. "Ensign Joran Crayn. How may I be of assistance?" T'Lyna gestures apologetically to the other end of the grey leather couch. "Please, join me, Ensign Crayn. I would make use of the desk, however, Lieutenant Havaris has requested that we not disturb his coffee cup, nor his.... butt-crease." With that, she taps up a file on her PADD, and gets down to business. "I understand you are one of the officers who was assigned to act as liason between Security and Customs? Could you tell me, perhaps, if any conclusions were drawn regarding the explosion which took place in the shuttle bay several weeks ago? The one in which Lt. Nevaren was injured?" ...boring meeting-stuff ensues. But then... T'Lyna nods and rises from the couch... then turns, carefully and conscientiously smoothing away any butt-crease she may have left upon the leather surface. Wouldn't do to annoy the boss, after all. "Thank you, Ensign. I hope to hear from you soon, though I understand that this is not a top-priority task."
|
| Javits | Gossip? Not here. |
Thu Sep 25 |
Edwards nods a little. "Although, don't underestimate not being blown up. I know you hear things about being blown up, but it's really not all that great." So true, so true. "Well now that you've told me all about these good things, give me some dirt. There's gotta be some." "What sort of dirt? The Captain had an affair, if you must know. I think you were about for that. Ah." Havaris trails off into a thoughtful frown. "Most of my hearsay these days comes from around the sector. Frater Mechanus, Brotherhood of the Code. Salor Rao. Rumors from this or that Sector source. But that's all information you have. Really, if you want dirt on the crew, I'm the wrong man to ask. Gwen Poole, on the other hand, now she's a gossip." "Is that what her post is now? Station Gossip? I'll be sure to remember that." Edwards grins. "But then, gossip won't mean much until I know more of the crew, will it? No fun to hear about strangers." Since that topic was a bust, he tries a new one. "Any particularly exciting missions happen recently?" The Bajoran's answer to his company is to lean closer and dish dirt as though they had a fence between them and curious neighbors. Whatever dirt Havaris is dishing has certainly gotten the attention of Edwards. He similarly leans in, so he can converse with the Bajoran quietly. Havaris continues to dish, allows for a dramatic pause? And dishes some more. But he's not a gossip. Edwards looks appropriately horrified by the not-gossip that Havaris has just dished.
|
| Caeli | The M'arx brothers? |
Sat Sep 27 |
From Caeli's comm badge, Malloy says, "Possibly. Unless I fail to keep a Romulan from slipping on a banana peel maybe, then you will see me in the brig."
|
| Caeli | Never as good as the original. |
Tue Sep 30 |
It's off to the Emerald City to visit the Wizard of Oz. Doro...err... Gwen has her scarecrow and tinman, eerrr Nevaren and Caeli, no little dog though. No witch either. And the City is called the infirmary. And the Wizard is a former counselor/nebbish named Aaron Park who is the CMO now.
|
| Javits | A Good Day to Drink! |
Tue Sep 30 |
Gr'laH slams his own fist to his shoulder with a thump of meat on meat. No armor worn tonight. He says in Klingon, "Daughter of K'rran." This is translated via your universal translator. His retreat is once more paused due to the arrival of another voice. He's going to leave. No, really he is. Eventually. Maybe sometime during Alpha Shift. He says in Klingon, "The Rat-Faced Husband to my Daughter is at the Counter attempting to invigorate me with insults. I have just united four Starfleet Officers through their dislike of Klingons, for the most part. And I am solidly, and in all ways, drunk. It is a good day to die!" This is translated via your universal translator.
|
| Caeli | SF Dept of Sentient Resources |
Tue Sep 30 |
From Caeli's comm badge, Novairen says, "Lieutenant, I'm missing one ensign, last seen in the company of a Commander Poole. She's short, has black hair, and answers to the name Treal. There's a reward if you return her to the security office." Into his comm badge, Caeli says, "I'll set a foreign dignitary up under a box with a stick propping it up and see if she takes the bait." From Caeli's comm badge, Novairen says, "And that's what we call thinking outside the box."
|
| Gwen Poole | Oh? Just like that? |
Wed Oct 01 |
Ghorev nods. "Anything from Joint Operations Command other than the matter for which Mister Golden is to be summoned?" Gwen seems to really consider Ghorev's question. A good long time, actually. Five seconds maybe. Then she shakes her head, "There's nothing else. Except that I'm the one who's pregnant. That's it." Edwards slowly turns his head to peer at Gwen after her casual remark. "Oh, is that all?" he asks. Havaris drops his PADD. Which would be bad enough, save that he fumbled it about first such that the thing is spinning all about as it clatters to the floor. No recovering from that, so he just folds up his arms and looks innocent. Wasn't him.
|
| S'veralis | 2x4 needed! |
Thu Oct 02 |
One blonde eyebrow perks as Gwen eyes Nevaren right back, "I'm in my pajamas and I have pink bunny slippers on my feet. I can stay... but I'll be asleep in about three minuts... and you'll have to carry me upstairs." Nevaren awwwwws and shuffles his feet, hugging his wife close. "Well, go upstairs then. I'll be up soon. I just wanted a nightcap."
|
| Cristobal | Mo-jo? |
Fri Oct 03 |
Cristobal peers at K'jjara for a moment. In a dry tone, He says in Klingon, "You work fast. Churas was aboard for weeks before I was pursuing her." He grins and makes his way towards the exit. K'jjara narrows her eyes after Cristobal, growling. "I work nothing!" she snaps, clenching her fist. O'Carroll shrugs, "I'd say he was the one doing the working. Seems to be attempting some.. mo-jo." K'jjara snorts at Cristobal, then blinks several times at O'Carroll. "What is... mo-jo?" the Klingon woman asks hesitantly. "Is it an illness? Is he trying to get me sick? But why?"
|
| Gwen Poole | Hee! |
Sat Oct 04 |
Edwards stands in front of the sofa in the main room, next to the small table with the monitor-thingy on it. Not up to much, apparently. Poole enters, wearing t-shirt, plaid pajama pants and those pink bunny slippers. In other words, not dressed for duty. She pauses in the doorway and asks, "You're alive, right?" Edwards looks down at himself, patting his uniform down some. "It seems so." he replies, glancing back up. "Something wrong, Gwen? Nice slippers, by the way." "No, nothings wrong..." Gwen does seem quite relieved though. Then her combadge goes off. She digs it out of her pocket and looks to Edwards, "Sorry I bugged you..." Poole leaves the quarters to have a com conversation just outside and doesn't hear Edwards sneak up on her. As she finishes the com call.... Poole freezes. Then turns and glances over her shoulder, "Um.... Michael. Hi." Edwards can't help but chuckle at that. "I didn't catch you doing anything wrong, relax." He smiles. "I just wanted to say thanks for stopping by. You're welcome back any time." "... I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Poole says as an explanation, turning fully about to face Edwards. "And I may take you up on that. I imagine you know some of what's on my mind lately... having experienced a good part of it with Bela." "I have an idea." Edwards comments. "But remember, Orion women become docile when pregnant. Humans, on the other hand... You scare me enough without crazy hormones." It's a joke! Honest. Poole makes a face. It includes a sticking out of the tongue. If she were more ornery, she'd give him the finger, but she doesn't. Instead she just steps close and kisses his cheek. "Good night." Poole nods and starts off down the corridor. In bunny slippers. She's -so- strange. And just so darn cute! Edwards turns and steps back into his quarters.
|
| Haven | Who knew.. |
Sun Oct 05 |
Laikan nods agreement. "Fair enough. What was the name of the Tie Cheese contact again?" Haven blinks, a smile curling her lips. "Tie Cheese?" She shakes her head. "Tai Chi," she repeats so the pronunciation is correct. "Ensign Donavon." Meg, the Tie Cheese Queen.
|
| Hurley | Do you know the Pasta King? |
Sun Oct 05 |
Leap and a spring and a bounce and a jig, a wild mad jig is done by the Irish lass who brays to the heavens. "It's a PASTA MAKING LAD!!" Ehem! She coughs into her fist, flushes and sits back down. As calmly and serious as possible she replies with, "Yuir Grandfather cooks pasta." Hurley watches in almost horror as Meg jigs in her room. Finally, she draws in a breath and.. very.. carefully says, "I'll.. ask him to cook for you, then. On the condition that.." she eyeshifts towards the nearest exit, then back towards Meg, "you don't hurt him when you do that." Donavon blinks, "Hurt him during a jig? Hmmm dat's a good idea!" Hurley does the only thing that can be done at the moment. A la Harris, she facepalms. It's easy to see to whom she's related.
|
| Magret | Not gonna say it... |
Sun Oct 05 |
Magret stands still behind Isole, blinking repeatedly. She says in Centauran, "They think something might be wrong that they can fix in their boxers?" Blink. She says in Centauran, "Pardon me while I resist making a joke out of respect for the gravity of the situation."
|
| Caeli | Only Ghorev. |
Mon Oct 06 |
Palra says, "Yes, I was awareof this. Commander Ghorev approached me last night while I was working out and we had a talk. He very politely threatened me about the diliberate slander of anyones good name and told me how he felt about it."
|
| K'jjara | Fast moving Centaurians |
Mon Oct 06 |
K'jjara watches after Golden, rumbling softly. When he is gone from sight, she then returns her attention to the Centaurian. "I don't bite," the woman says, then adds, "Well, actually, I do. But I won't bite you." Laikan seems almost disappointed. "Well, I won't bite you either, then."
|
| Caeli | A night on the town |
Mon Oct 06 |
Havaris catches up the ball once the last of the officers have cleared the room. He turns about and marches off the court, shoving open the doors to go striding rather directly for the exit. Welcome to Havaris' sport as Pretense. Caeli blinks a few times, turning to follow Havaris' movement. "You didn't want to play?" he asks. "I never play," Havaris notes to Caeli as he walks on by, "ask my wife." Meow. Chuckling dryly, Havaris continues on out the doors. Thus did Zip chase /everyone/ out of the Fitness Center and its immediate environs.
|
| Fortunae | Watch Your Back |
Tue Oct 07 |
Quin inhales deeply "Yes. Let's go" he eyes Tera's backside as she goes... /damn/ good thing she's not a Betazoid. . o O Quin thinks "Mhh mmmhh mmmmhmm. Who ever goes home to that at night is a lucky, lucky man."
|
| Medes | You're... welcome? |
Wed Oct 08 |
From Medes's comm badge, Cristobal says, "Mid-year OERs are coming up. Whatever you said on the peer review you wrote for me before didn't get me demoted or discharged, so I figure it'd be safe to ask you again."
|
| Vez |