Star Trek: Theurgy

[Hi'Jak | Deck 07 | Senior officer quarters] attn: @stardust

He raised an eyebrow at Skippy, he supposed it was because of his eye, as it was he was wearing an eye patch to hide the rather unique attribute of his eye. All in all it wasn't the worst nickname he had ever heard, but she could have done better. He bit his tongue before he suggested something dumb in return. "We will workshop it, i'm sure you can do better."

"I feel like I should address an Elephant in the room." He made another drink as she requested and handed it too her. He walked back to the sofa sitting down next to her crossing his legs and once again finding himself rather comfortable in her quarters. "I'm not just a Klingon, I'm also half human. I don't just call you out on being Vulcan, so do be mindful that I am more than just one side of my heritage." While the Klingon was most certainly an important part of his life, and the one he had agreed to teach her on, he also wasn't exactly a full Klingon.

"I'm not exactly one to light incense and start honor rituals in the middle of the room, nor do I pray over a Bat'leth before combat." His chosen career of a scientist did after all reflect more on his human herritage than his Klingon one, but he understood where she was going with that. "Nor do I see you as only an emotionless, creature with only logic to drive you, I'm sure there is plenty human about you as well. Every mix has it's sides."

He was one hundred percent sure he had read a trashy novel like this once. Some story he was trying to recall, a Klingon wounded and close to death finds his savior in the calm steady hands of a vulcan doctor during the Federation cold war. Their cultures and minds clashing till eventually the two had fallen into something akin to love. Finding compassion, warmth, and even passion. He struggled to recall the name of the book. "Or would you prefer the more predominantly dominant klingon side of dealing with things."

[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus
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It had been a challenging start into this new chapter of their voyage. A day, seemingly stretching into the endless. Concluding with Samantha having left the bridge at the end of an 11-hour shift. She had to shed off the duty and the responsibilities all alike, as the day was crowned with a more personal space. Relinquishing her long-lasting armor, dematerializing the Starfleet issue uniform, the blonde fetched a catsuit from her closet, that had been a present from her grandmother. A piece of real fashion from Paris, which had once upon a time meant something, now it was a mere memento of her loss. It was sort of ironic, really, as her fingertips carefully ascertained the surface of the metallic looking fabric. Ironic that she had not yet ever worn this before. And while the thought of her grandparents, probably not being alive anymore, was still repressed skillfully, it seemed as good enough a concession to make, as far as closing in on the pain went.

Slipping the one-shouldered garment onto her slender figure, the diplomat took a moment to soak in the untouched scent of home, as faint as it may have been. Using all her Vulcan teachings to steer her thoughts away from the day, and towards ... anything else, really. Watching the blue light of their slipstream jump still wash by her windows like a twisted kaleidoscope, she ran both hands through her hairs to even them out a bit, before leaving her quarters once more. She was now a good 7 minutes late. Sarresh and her had agreed to a dinner that night, days ago, and despite everything that had gone down, she had felt no reason to skip out of it. She hoped he saw it the same way. Hell, for a good portion of the day it had been the light at the end of the tunnel. Surely it was not entirely fair to put this much on a simple co-consumption of food and drink, with someone she had met once - well, twice.

Stepping into the turbolift, a smile crossed Samantha's face, as she pondered their second engagement, striking her as odd that their first had seemed to be more on the forefront of her mind. Despite the planet-side dive having ended in a more significant capacity. She could very well remember the strange sense of connection between them, which was not necessarily limited to when they touched accidentally. Because with every time they seemed to share a reality of their own, a little piece of him seemed to persist as an echo, for a long time after. The woman did not know what it meant. She had never experienced it before. She also had never met an Ashreem before. So, the inquisitive Vulcan nature inside of her just wanted to explore this sensation, while the human part just wanted to feel it again.

Making her way into Below Decks, astutely aware of how things had ended here hours earlier with the Klingons, the diplomat took a cautious look around, taking stock of the few members of their race that still loitered around. None of them seemed to take any notice of her, past the superficial. Seeing Sarresh at one of the tables furthest away from the entrance, the blonde smiled, making her way over with long strides. "I apologize for my tardiness." she breathed slightly, disguised in a pleasant smile. If she had felt tired and worn out minutes ago, there was now some reserve tapped into, she didn't know she had. "I had wanted to be on the bridge for the jump. Trying to gauge the sentiments." the commander explained, settling down into the seat opposite the man. She wasn't a counselor, but she still dealt with people, and wanted to know where everyone was at. If potentially for less ulterior motives, than her unlikely counterparts in teal.

"Are you hungry? How was your day?" was an innocent enough way to start the end of the day. She had no intention to dump her struggles on him right then, if ever, even though she hoped some sort of mutual relief could be achieved tonight. Leaning back in her seat, brushing her plump lips together, Samantha caught her hands between her thighs, as she crossed her long legs around them. A subconscious attempt at avoiding any direct contact, no matter how fleeting, no matter how accidental. With no intention to relay any of what she was feeling so openly. Watching the man's aquatic swirls intently, trying to figure out whether his day may have potentially been even worse. Though unlikely, she could probably also draw relief from helping him solve his problems and thus repressing her own. The intent for the dinner had been an altogether different one, hadn't it. Though nothing had been formalized or even implied, a major emotional dump was not usually included.

OUTFIT

[ Lt. Jg...Can't Quite Remember | Standing in the shadow of giants | Ridge line | Unknown planet ] Attn: @stardust 
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For an eternity, that was likely less than a standard minute, the man heard nothing in reply from his cries. Had he been going crazy? Of course he had to wonder. Head trauma was nothing to frown at, and there was every chance he'd taken even more than he'd already endured during the crash. A throbbing headache wasn't going to fade any time soon, and there was a faint ringing in his ears in the wake of his last call. Realization slowly dawned that he was straining to try and hear...anything.

And there it was. Over the ridge line. The rocks were muting the sound of it, reflecting it back upon the caller, but enough of it was cresting the rocks that the man on the shore could make it out. So he brought his hands up to his lips, cupping his mouth and ignoring the wince of pain on his shoulder and called again. And again, shambling forward as he did it. There was a need, a burning deep need to see her, to prove to himself what he was not, in fact, totally insane. The closer he got to the rocks, the smaller he realized that they were. He'd thought they were towering, but it was a trick of the eyes in the darkness that was the planet in the wake of the storm. His depth perception had been shot to hell, and in truth it was maybe just half again as tall as he was, twice as tall at best. Certainly not insurmountable.

Suddenly she was there, cresting the ridge, looking an absolute mess, and absolutely beautiful. A sight for sore eyes, as the saying went, and the bedraggled man swept his arm across his face, as if rubbing dust away to make sure he was seeing what he thought he saw, silhouetted against the dark sky. And then worry shot through him like a bolt of lighting, and he staggered to a stop as he saw her drop to her knees. Was she hurt? Had something happened?

The next few moments were a blur; he wasn't entirely sure how he got up to her, but he did. He was standing before her, panting for breath, fighting off exhaustion from all his body had been through under the water. Hands reached up, he reached down, and with a groan, hauled her up to her feet. He wasn't sure what he would have done after that, unable to pry those alien eyes from hers, but she threw her arms around him and held him tight, and that was enough for him. It should have felt awkward - they were caked in mud and gravel, soaked to the bone, coated in blood. It didn't matter that her hair was a matted mess of river water and probably blood; he pressed his head to the side of hers as they hugged, tangling fingers in that mess of hair, and squeezed tightly.

A deep, abiding sense that things would be right settled in. His heartbeat felt like it had matched up to hers, each beating in time. It had to be a trick of the mind. Yet he clung to her, and did not ease up. "I've got you. I've got you. It's all right," he thought, over and over and over as his breathing slowed into something reasonable. He fingers loosened, and he found himself smoothing her hair back, and part of his mind wondering what gave him the right to feel comfortable doing this with someone who, as far as he could remember, was a complete stranger. Yet he did take a sense of comfort from this moment, from holding her.

So of course that was when the eerie cry of something broke across the night and damn near made him jump out of his skin. He sucked in a sharp breath between clenched teeth, then let it out in a slow hiss as both officers turned to look back in the general direction from which the blonde had appeared. The glowing light worried the man almost as much as the noise, confirming that they were no longer alone on this strange world. As if they both came to the conclusion at the same time, they pulled away, though her hand caught on his, and he squeezed in, palm to palm. Neither were willing to give up the connection they felt, not in the wake of their unwanted river cruise.

Nothing else for it, he thought to himself as they picked their way forward, the ground taking on that ethereal purple luminescence. Another cry sounded in the night, sending a shiver along the mans spine. None of that set well with him. All he could think of was some vast, ocean going creature, swimming up out of the dark to gobble him up. Not exactly the most reassuring of mental images. It was all the worse for him when she let go of him, and a warmth seemed to bleed away from the contact. But, as he'd thought before, there was nothing else for it. Each needed both their hands to scale the wall. And when they reached the top, and hauled themselves to their feet, what he saw was...awe inspiring.

"Damn," he whispered, as if afraid to draw the attention of the beings. Deep in the dark recesses of his mind, where the primitive instincts dwelt, he felt a sense of fear and reverence. It took no small stretch of the imagination to conceive how a creature like this might be venerated by a less advanced species. Entities such as this were the stuff legends were made of, and he felt rooted to that spot, unable to look away from the ethereal giants that danced in the air. Oh yes, it was an experience that could easily be described as spiritual, if not quite bordering on out right religious.

Running his tongue over his lips, he swallowed to dash the dryness in his throat. At some point during it all, he'd slipped his hand into the other officers again. Without conscious thought, he'd laced his fingers with hers, seeking that base reassurance that he was not in fact alone. Pure selfishness on his part, and he knew he aught to be ashamed of himself, but he craved that warmth and affirmation, that feedback loop that seemed to exist between them.

Thus balanced again, he let his eyes sweep out past the creatures and their sky waltz, to the vastness that lay beyond. He let out a soft whistle, and then flinched, looking to see if the giants noticed him; thankfully they seemed to pay him and the other officer no mind at all. Setting aside the beautiful behemoths for the time being, he began to dissect what he was seeing, sorting out the odd shapes into something that made sense to his mind. A good five minutes past, where he simply observed and cataloged in silence, holding the blonde's hand the entire time as if it were commonplace. Finally, he broke his silence in a soft whisper, tilting his head to hers, but not taking his eyes from the scene playing out in front of him.

"That is a city. A ruined one, if I had to guess." Even at a whisper, his voice felt as if it were out of place in the setting they'd found themselves. His words seemed to carry an extra weight to them, in the wake of the alien song, and again he found himself swallowing. "I have no idea what we'll find down there, but it's our best bet for getting to some shelter. If another one of those storms comes up, I don't want to be caught outside by the river bank." His eyes darted skyward, and he watched the glow trail in the wake of one of the beasts floating over their heads.

"And if I'm being completely honest, I'm not sure I want to be out and about when something else comes roaming our way, that isn't as...benevolent as these creatures seem to be. Something that takes notice of two Starfleet officers." He wasn't afraid, not exactly that, but he was cautions.  As beautiful and wondrous as these creatures were, this planet was deadly, and he wanted - needed - to make sure the two of them had a place to shelter. Take care of the necessities, and then allow yourself a moment of pure, unadulterated awe.

With a resolve that straightened his spine and seemed to calm his erratic pulse, the man began to edge down, along the rock wall they'd climbed, toward the ruins ahead, gently leading the blonde by the hand.

Yay, Griff!  A shame that so many people are dealing with burnout and real-life chaos with this COVID thing, though.  :(

WE HAVE AN ACTIVELY PLAYED CTO AFTER ALL!

After last night's announcement that @Fife left the sim, @Griff contacted me with the interest of taking over writing Cross. In him meeting the criteria for being eligible, I am stoked to announce that we still have an actively played Chief Tactical Officer after all!

Lt Cmdr. Cross                      Chief Tactical Officer 

  - Writer: @Griff

After surviving both the destruction of the Endeavour and the Correction preformed on him by the Savi, Cross became the Theurgy's Cheif Tactical Officer at the beginning of the Aldea Prime Anthology. @Griff has informed me he won't be making any edits to the character page or Cross' past, and the former threads are being delved into as I make this announcement.

Hope you'll enjoy writing your new character, @Griff !

SADLY, WHILE ENJOYING HIMSELF, AHARON HAS TO STEP AWAY

While I have known @Aharon has been meaning to leave for some time now, with other commitments rearing their head, I got a PM yesterday with a little message to you all!

To the Theurgy Crew:
That time has come - I must part ways from Theurgy. I had hoped to finish up my current thread in Episode 1 but as some threads do, it has moved at a slower pace. I am very sorry to leave you with it, I had wished to have time to finish it off and not add to your workload.

I regret not being able to take a more active part in Theurgy - it just wasn't meant to be this time around. Thank you for entrusting me with Vinata - who I think it probably one of the most unique characters I've even seen. I hope the next writer will treat him well! I have updated Vinata's BIO for you with links to threads throughout the Anthologies and brief summaries.

I know I have not been the most active participant among you but I did make an effort to read as much of your works as I could. You're an AMAZING bunch of writers and it has been an honour being here with you. I hope each of your keep well in the months to come. Cheers!

@Aharon wrote Vinata Vojona, one of the nurses in sickbay, and its a character that's been around for quite some time. If you are in the mood to write something unique, I really do recommend taking a look at him.

Ens. Vinata Vojona            Nurse

  - Former Writer: Aharon

If anyone eligible to take over a character is interested, you can PM me here on the forum. Please make sure to read up on the info at the top of this page, in such a case: Available Characters. In the meantime, I will NPC him as needed until he gets a new writer.

Thank you for your kind words in regard to this sim @Aharon , and if you feel like you have the time and opportunity, you'll always be welcome back here.

Best Regards,

Auctor Lucan