tushanshu | Entries tagged with † spock

[Just another day in the life of Jim Kirk. He has a cup of coffee off to one side, and he's dressed in his command golds. He's not big on the network, but hey. Somebody's gotta get their hands dirty.]

Bryn Zethir is gone. She left me in charge of the Brazen Turtle, so if her employees could touch base with me so we can work out where to go from here, that'd be appreciated. Everybody else, first drink's on the house.

[A slight pause, and then he wets his lips.]

And for those of you that knew her, The Archive has returned home as well.

[That seems more like a footnote, tacked on in as casual a way as possible, but anyone who knows him knows the deflection's just an act.]

gravityfields

[ There's a petite woman looking at the camera slightly unsure, because this is weird. She thought changing the ring tone on her cell phone was too confusing to bother figuring out. Not that she'd actually really tried, and at least she had been given a tutorial on this machine. But she launches right into science and gains surety and excitement as she talks. ]

The, uh, local people said I should post my questions on here. I'm looking for information regarding physical properties of this world. Obviously the gravity is at least highly similar to that on Earth, but [ she holds up a device that's not got a whole lot of activity on the screen ] I need to do some minor calibrations to this in order to properly catch anomalies. And if I can properly study the anomalies then I can probably duplicate them in reverse to get back home.

[ Jane is really excited at this point. She takes a moment to catch herself and calm down with a tiny huff of laughter. She's well aware of how odd her excitement can be to strangers. ]

I'm Jane Foster, by the way. I study gravitational anomalies and wormholes and the like. Is there a university here somewhere? It would be nice to have a place to do research while I'm here.

[ Pause. Is this like a phone call or video question board or something? Are people listening live or what? Jane gives a tiny shrug. ]

Uh, thank you for your help?

imaginate

[ Calm, faintly amused: ]

I’m looking for someone who can teach Aya to have fun.

But, Honor Guard Rayner, I am well aware of the definition of ‘having fun’. Green Lantern Hal Jordan has informed me repeatedly in the time we spent traveling together.

[ A pause. He taps his fingers on the desk. ]

Theory is different from practice, Aya. [ A beat. ] And Hal has a really... weird definition.

...I am inclined to agree, yes. Very well. I am not adverse to experimenting with new ideas.

… Right. Anyway. [ Louder, addressing the console: ] If you’d like payment, money’s of no object. It’ll be a few weeks at most.

chittybang

[This is Asami. This is Asami wrapped up like an enchilada in a thick, dark red blanket while she faces the screen. It's her first time with a recording like this—the technology is beyond even the movers Varrick produced—so she proceeds self-consciously.

That isn't to say she wasn't eager to try it out. The tape on the side of her console is indication of that, but it's out of sight of the viewer.]

Well, here I am. I've had some time to think about what I wanted to say, but to be honest I don't even know where to begin.

But we're all comrades here, right? So my name's Asami, and I'm a... [businesswoman? What kind of sales approach is that? She straightens her back.] I'm the chief executive officer of my family's company at home in Republic City. We're known for our automobiles and weaponry, and I have experience with each of our products. Not that I see myself getting comfortable here, but if I can make myself useful in a company running somewhere along those lines, then I think that would be a good place to start.

[She visibly deflates after the spiel, mustering a small smile.] So I guess I'll see you guys around! Go ahead and introduce yourselves if you have time. I think I could use some faces to call familiar.

snedronningen

[Fire sector may notice a slight dip in temperature within the past few hours. Whoops.

A war? Elsa had no intention of fighting a war. Not after what she had just been through. And she can’t help but feel as if she’s being used as some weapon, some ultimate means to an end, and while her ‘hosts’ had been kind enough to explain everything to her it didn’t ease her feelings of discomfort at all.

She had spent most of her first day getting used to her surroundings, trying to get accustomed to the computer interface(~~A few keys had gotten stuck to her icy fingers, but she managed with some warm water~~), searching through messages. Always adapt, that was a part of being a queen wasn’t it?

There’s a small sigh of relief when she doesn’t see her sister or anyone else she cared about among the messages posted up. There was Prince Hans, but she had tried to deal with that accordingly.

Still, she’s in a foreign place all by herself. It’s time to do the queenly thing—right?

Video flips on and she shows a bit of surprise before relaxing and speaking.]

Hello, I’m Queen Elsa of Arendelle. [She had thought about hiding her title or where she was from, but Hans had decided to announce himself to the network, it’d be far too difficult to try and cover up her own identity. She won't be mentioning the ice powers quite yet, though. Call it a force of habit.] I’m new here and could use some guidance, particularly when it comes to finding a job.

[~~How does I shot job hunt?~~ Now she’ll warm up with a smile. It’s genuine, not forced, though may a touch of tiredness will hit it.]

Also, there are so many people here from places and times I’ve never heard of, I would love to hear more about every one of you.

[That’s… not even lip service. She’d been so confined to one place in her life, that now she was curious beyond reason, wanting to hear more about everything. And once she got home, because she would get home, she could tell Anna about it.]

I hope to hear from some of you very soon. Good day.

[And after a graceful curtsy, the feed cuts off.]

(ooc| If you want to tag, but don't want spoilers mentioned around your character, please feel free to drop me a line here!)

gameplaying

[ loki's been here long enough to have taken note of the fact that thor is here (two of him); frigga — his mother — is here; less importantly, tony stark, bruce banner, and natasha romanoff are here; and somewhere between in all: another loki is here. each presence in and of itself would be enough to influence his introduction, to play a part in how he decides to present himself, but all at once requires a touch more consideration, a careful balance between appearances and wants. different timelines — interesting — and different universes could play to his advantage, but—

there's a drawn-out silence, whilst loki's gaze runs pointedly over the console, eyes narrowing briefly; he looks very much as if he's considering something and, at length, he lets out an audible sigh punctuated by a brief raising of his shoulders in a lazy, arrogant shrug of sorts. ]

—A turtle. [ dryly, with the barest hint of amusement and the momentary curling of the corners of his lips — because really. ] I admit, it's not quite where I expected to find myself, but given the alternative, I can't really complain. Perhaps one small act of redemption can do much more than one imagines. [ or not, and he can definitely complain because he had what he wanted and now he's on a giant turtle and that is very much Not According to Plan and thus super uncool. fuck this place, man.

nevertheless, he pauses momentarily, (feigned) hesitation gracing his features before giving way to a brief twitch of a smile. ] I've heard word that my brother — Thor — is here. [ a beat; he leans slightly closer towards the camera. ] Tell me, did we win? Malekith, the Aether—. [ a loose wave of his hand and he leans back again. asking about odin would take it beyond the bounds of believability, so he falls silent, glancing away from the console for a moment. ]

If he's otherwise indisposed, please: tell him that Loki wishes to see him. [ THAT'S IT he's totally going to pretend he hasn't stalked the fuck out of finding out who's here. ]

nowthatsfunny

[The woman on screen is clearly rough around the edges - her clothes are torn and stained with dirt and blood, she's got a couple of old cuts on her face. She also probably hasn't bathed in a few days.

She looks thoughtful as she squints into the screen, maybe even a little disconcerted.]

I don't know what I was expecting, but this? Definitely wasn't it. [A little light on both pearly gates and fire and brimstone, honestly. She won't say that out loud, though, it sounds trite even for her.]

So what's the catch? And do these computers have solitaire on them?

myownbestfriend

[Say hello to Emma Frost, an intimidatingly beautiful but apparently normal human woman who is not especially pleased to be on a giant turtle and drafted into some kind of metaphysical war. She's got it dialed down to an aura of vague irritation, though, and she leans back in the large desk chair that came with her Fire Sector suite. The deep brown of the leather sets off her pale coloration and low-cut white X-Men uniform to excellent effect, and if you think she didn't plan that, you haven't met Emma.]

Please tell me there's a half-decent salon somewhere on this planet.

[If she has to do her own roots she's switching to diamond form until the problem is resolved, see if she doesn't.

Yes, yes, Malicant, a murdered emperor, giant turtles all but extinct, a world on the verge of destruction...but none of those are the sort of thing one ought to ask stupid questions about in public, now are they?]

dotsanddashes

[For the second time, the feed clicks on from Rosalind's console. For the first time, it's actually Rosalind's face on-camera, icy eyes staring right into her prospective audience. She looks awful, for lack of a better word...dark circles under her eyes, gaunt, pale...likely, she hasn't slept in a bit of time.

She's been listening to all the talk, all of the sadness...and in the stillness of her lab, she has something to say.]

I knew very little of the Empress. Still, for what it's worth, no one ascends the throne without realizing it's going to be dangerous. I've seen it before. Different times, different places....

[Columbia. Dimensions apart from this place, but so many of the realities that she once called home. It was hard to think about now, but she tries to reflect on it for just a moment. Comstock had not only tried to mount a throne, but had tried to sit his daughter upon it as well. So many ways that had gone wrong. She can feel something in her brain give, and she changes her train of thought, taking a moment to discretely wipe her nose.]

At the very least she acted with dignity in life. Perhaps it would be best to follow her example.

Mourning is fine. Still, speaking as someone who watched the ridiculous production after her own death, there are more important things to bear in mind. Tears are only for your own purposes. Elaborate memorials will only go so far. It means more to take the time to take action.

Before it's too late to take action at all.

On that note, if there is anything a spare scientific mind might aid, I would like to extend my hand.

[With a weary sigh, she cuts the feed.]

((ADDITIONAL BROADCAST AFTER DAMIAN'S ANONYMOUS CALL))

[A short time later, the feed returns - now the woman is visibly shaking, expression that of barely restrained emotion behind a very thin layer of composure. A lit cigarette burns between trembling fingers.]

I have been informed that Empress was the incorrect term. I did not mean any disrespect. I was not aware. I was trying to say something of consequence, but evidently I am far too ignorant to do so.

[She's at the end of her rope. That much is clear. This...hasn't helped. Her eyes look wet.]

I do apologize. Perhaps I should go back to my work and leave the epitaphs to those less insensitive.

[What might be a tiny sob escapes her before the feed turns back off.]

alderwood

[The video comes up not with the backdrop of the Commander's office, but instead that of the Emperor's personal quarters. It is Alderwood that sits there, his expression dark and controlled; there are signs of grief in the redness of his eyes same as there are signs of activity in the motion of police kedan behind him, but he ignores that to address the network.]

The Ironwood Emperor is-- [Here, he breaks a moment before the line of his jaw settles with stonelike strength and he continues.] She is dead.

[Centuries of war that she survived, centuries of difficulties, and he found her as innocently dead as a victim in a murder. Evandau appears torn, once again on the brink of the grief that threatens to consume him, but he forces himself into mould of a Commander so that he might serve the purpose of this message.]

The sealed scroll outlining her succession was opened this morning under my authority as Commander. [His hand moves, briefly touching a rolled up scroll set on the flat surface before withdrawing as though burned.] It was her wish that I assume all authorities and responsibilities as Emperor after her passing.

[His look is pained, but does not break.]

Henceforth, I assume the role of Alderwood Emperor and thusly fulfill her wishes. The responsibilites of the Commander will continue with me until I choose a successor.

[A pause, a breath as he composes his next words.]

The Palace of Landed Sky is closed to all petitioners until further notice. Without Eshai's power protecting it, this is no longer a safe haven for those that wish to speak its name, so do not risk it.

[For he already suspects that Malicant is behind this and will not have it invited in to make a pair of he and Eshai in death.

That brings him to the end of what he needed to announce and so he only offers one flat statement in closing.]

This changes nothing of your presence or purpose, so do not come beg of return. Those magicks are beyond me and my priority is determining what fool made the decision to kill her.

dow

Recently, I bought a personal item from one of the auctions in Markutte. In light of recent network posts of a festive Terran nature and having been exposed to Christmas before with far more ceremony, purely out of deference for a family member, I am aware that giving is very much in the spirit of the season. As purchasing gifts for a wide range of individuals would be a waste of resources and time which I must covet for my scientific studies, I am instead inclined to use the instrument in my possession.

It is a Vulcan harp.

[ Instruments, literal instrument ... Get it? ~~Whatever, his attempts at humor are golden.~~ Straight-faced, Spock leans back in his chair and settles it against his right shoulder, beginning to play. His left hand is bandaged, but he pays it no mind; after the post, green blood will have bitten through and the wraps will need changing.

Firstly, Brahms Intermezzo is played to invest people in the music he studied intently during his recreational time as a child. Shortly after that lulls to a close, you might think this stuffy Vulcan has nothing more interesting to offer but, son, you would be wrong. Music is mathematics, after all, and Spock adjusts the knobs on the instrument to alter the octaves and sounds to more of a guitar-quality. That's when he delves into an improvised piece still kicking around his memory, composed long before he set foot on the Enterprise. His final performance is a gentle carol he is very familiar with, for his own personal reasons, and he doesn't rush it into the previous natural rhythm in the slightest, almost playing for someone ... who has expressed their preferences on the matter before. (Perhaps the family member he mentioned at the start, for attentive listeners.)

The song is Silent Night. ]

( OOC: Vulcan harps/lyres are ridiculous, but these are the sound ranges, for reference. )

guiltapalooza

[Willow looks tired, faintly strung out, and somewhat tense. She's clearly a little on edge and trying to redirect the energy somewhere else.]

Whoo, okay, I think I am liable to go actually crazy if I don't do something that's not meditating sometime soon. There is only so much communing with the turtle energy a girl can do before crazy happens, and crazy on me is a bad, bad look. There's a whole Darth Rosenberg deal I'm trying to avoid.

Does anyone want to do something? Previous conversation not required to apply! I'll do anything, just provide reasonably friendly social interaction and I'm there.

Oh, and, I'm still available to do spells and stuff for people if anyone wants to hire me. I might not be able to get to it for a while because I have a... a major project I have to finish up first, but I do have some things in stock if anyone wants something? Um. Let me know.

Even if I feel like I'm gonna reach magic overload sometime soon. Never thought I'd say that.

( Private to Loki. )

( Private to Tony Stark (MCU). )

alwaysmother

[One Asgardian All Mother plus one communication console is complete madness. It takes much meddling and tinkering until it's finally adjusted to her liking.

After more than enough jostling and wobbling of the camera the owner sinks back into their chair, sitting upright, almost severely. Her expression is benign if not somewhat inquiring.]

What an extraordinary wonder that such a small portal should be able to ferry my image to the entirety of this island. [Asgard has technology, just nothing quite like this so forgive her if she doesn't readily believe it.] It has also been told that I should be able to communicate to all with this curious device.

[She's skeptical, but willing to keep an open mind. How's that for progressive?]

It appears the small box of wonders is very much alive, though without an incantation of sorts how can one be entirely certain that they are making contact? [Because keys are for locking and unlocking things, not for sending messages...let's hope she doesn't try to use the keyboard for some unintended purpose.] Nevertheless, I pray that this finds you well residents of the World Turtle.

[World Turtle...it's kind of like the World Serpent, but with less Jörmungandr and a great deal more tortoise.

With that established, this finely dressed Asgardian queen hopes that her message will get across to...well...whomever. She's not feeling particularly fussy at the moment and beggars can't be choosers.]

I am anxious to know if among those that reside here there exists an Asgardian presence, specifically I seek audience with Thor, Loki, or Odin...one or all, it matters not to me [all would be her preference, but you can't always have everything, can you?]...though contact with anyone from Asgard would be most assuring. For any information provided you will have the unending gratitude of Frigga, Queen of Asgard.

[It's not as easy as dismissing an illusion, but Frigga has already learned that if she does everything that she did to turn on the magic box, in reverse, then she can cut off it's...life force? Really. Computers are living things.]

bludhavenknight

[Everyone gets to see two familiar faces this time, with a couple of twists. Dick (the elder) is sitting down in the chair, wearing a bright red coat with white trim, a hat of the same color, and of course, a beard to match the whole thing. It’s pulled down, though, so you can see his face. And his wonderful assistant, Zatanna, is standing behind him, dressed up like the most beautiful elf there is. They’re both looking pretty happy about this.]

It’s getting cold out! And what does cold mean? Holiday fun, of course. So I, and my amazing elf assistant here, have decided that Santa Claus needs to come to the turtle. [See what he did there? See it? Okay, good.]

And so it is with pleasure that we let everyone know-- [He gets cut off as Zatanna leans forward, and he looks up at her.]

[The fifteen-year-old elf bends down until she's level with his ear, covering her mouth so she could whisper something secretively to him.]

Really?

[She nods, and offers a playful wink.] Trust me. I know a guy who knows the guy personally.

[Dick looks back at the screen, and his voice drops into a perfect, heavy Russian accent.] Is this better?

[She practically has to bite her tongue to keep from bursting out laughing. Impressive. She should've known.] It'll do.

[Dick grins.] I’d like to invite everyone to come over to the Wood sector, where we have a little holiday party going on.

[He stops, laughing and shaking his head. He has to drop the Russian accent.] Okay, I can’t keep that one up, but I tried! Anyway, we’ve got a small thing going on in a café in the Wood sector, with some cakes and gingerbread-ish things, and some hot drinks. And what would Santa be without his...

[He holds up a huge, red velvet-like bag.] Bag, yes! And it is filled with little odds and ends, so there are presents for all!

[Dick sets the bag down, and pulls the beard back up with a grin.] And to all, a good... day? Yeah, that still works. To all, a good day! Remember, café in the Wood sector, we’ll be here awhile!

[ooc: Action is absolutely welcome.]

puppetfetish

_{[ Right. Bro has seen enough weird shit in his life, he can understand waking up in a basin of water and being told he's supposed to fight some sort of war— but this wasn't how things were meant to be.

This really was not what he had read up on when first issuing his copies of Sburb.
This wasn't how the game was meant to be played.

Once he saw his own sword bare into his body and fell to the ground, he knew it would be game over for him and can only hope all of the training he had given Dave was good enough.
He can only hope and wish that everything he had done was well enough.
However, to find himself in such a strange and foreign environment, Bro's instinctive reaction is to play it calm and cool and leech out as much information about this place as possible. Inquiring about the place was pointless; people told him to hush— it was the Emperor's business.

Whatever.

Understanding the mere gist of things isn't good enough for Bro Strider. He needs detail. Every single detail he can muster up and find out.
So, once he quickly understands how to work the console, he sends out the massive text with the most important question: ]}

yo keeliai.
a/s/l.

crabmunicator

[The post begins with a shot of Karkat's grey, frowning face. This is not actually unusual, but lest it be dismissed as no more than his usual expression, there is the tone of his words to follow.]

Guess what! Apparently it's not enough for a guy to to learn one of the friends he hasn't seen in literal years is brainwashed and crazy. Apparently it's not enough to be informed that his Empress--not this "Emperor" here, the actual one from my world--expects him to just bow and scrape and go yes, your Condescension, I'd be happy to serve as your brand spanking new slave. It is not even enough, believe it or not, to be brutally murdered by giant fork by an even crazier broad than your brainwashed friend! Wow, who knew, right?

[He makes an exaggerated roll of his eyes.]

Instead of getting off that easy, nevermind the brief stint of amnesia and all the other chaos going on, I get brought here. Some giant fucking turtle in the middle of whatever planet this is, I don't care, don't even try to tell me because I am fresh out of shits to give. And for some kind of war against this M--

[He throws up his hands.]

Whoops! Can't say the M-name because magic is real and he might come get us. Wow, I am quaking so hard I might just barf up my organs in fear.

But let's stop being retarded for a while, shall we?

[His expression turns more serious, and his arms fold against the desk as he leans in closer.]

Who's here that knows me? Anyone? On my team or not, I want to know, and I want to know promptly. Beyond that, who here has any clue about getting out of this place? I didn't ask those keddy whatevers because obviously I wouldn't have been brought here if the point was just to let me waltz back to where I was. And yeah, yeah, I heard time is stopped there, but do you think I'd be asking this if I cared about that? I have big, important, leaderly business to do, and I cannot summon the electrical impulse to fire the neurons that would make me care about this mandatory break in plans. If you have info, I want to hear it, the end.

[And with that, he ends the video.]

hasthreefingers

[ Donna is dressed for work still, her hair done up and everything. But despite the work clothes, she seems happy. She smiles as the feed comes up and flicks some of her hair over a shoulder. ] Okay. This is just an off-the-wall idea.

I know we've got a lot of people here who aren't from Earth, and a lot who have traveled in space and time and with the Doctor and all.

So I was thinking. Would you lot be interested in getting together sometime? Like a club. I never got to find out as much about space as I wanted, and I'd love to hear stories and such.

[ Her smiles disappears in a flash. ] And no Doctors allowed. People aren't going to talk about you as much as I want them to if you're right there listening.

[ And just like that, the smile is back. ]

Ship captains, though, are more than welcome.

unconchonable

[Oh hey, this certain sounds like that dude who threw a huge hissy-fit over how cold it is just the other day.]

I know humans are downright fuckin' borin' and incapable a understandin' the MAJESTY a this sorta thing, but this turtle-bound metropolis ain't all that biased with who it's pickin' to bring here, so I figured I'd ask this ewen if I'll get some slack-jawed brainless answers from humans concernin' this. Takin' one for my curiosity, it seems.

[Truth be told, he's more bored than curious.]

So, do any a you other races hawe a romance that's parallel to kismesissitude? Which, I'm sure you lot ain't got the pans to understand what that means outright, so with my infinite magnanimity, I'll explain. It's like hawin' a nemesis, an' not just any ol' brinesucker that snarls at you funny. But a bona fide riwal, that which dedicates his or her existence to bein' a metaphorical thorn in your side, all contentious an' bellicose like, but newer quite aimin' to be your end. Just wantin' you around to make you miserable, to challenge you an' keep you on your fuckin' toes all proper like. In a way, they make you better than you once were, but still spit in your face while they do it.

[He lets out a sigh, it almost sounds dreamy in a way. He may be missing having a kismesis, just a little bit.]

But what you got an' they got in regards to one another ain't no mushy pity, hell no, it's all pure hatred, seethin' boilin' fuckin' ENMITY. And through your wiolent an' destructiwe black waltz, you fight, an' bloody each other up, make out a little...

[Okay... there's no maybe. He definitely misses it.]

--Anyway, so do any a you other species out there got anythin' like that, or are all you bound to a singular quadrant all borin' an' such? An' if it ain't like humans with their solely pity-based quadrant, what manner a romance do you got yourselwes?

laylaknowsstuff

[A young, blonde woman appears on the network. Nothing's really odd about her appearance, standard white female, except for the large 'M' tattooed over her right eye. She has a strange smirk on her lips that seems to indicate she knows something you don't.] Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a lady of wealth and taste.

[Way to make an entrance- steal V's introduction lines from V for Vendetta, and, y'know, quote the Rolling Stones. She waves.]

So, I've been told we're battling a terrible evil. Where I'm from, we call this Tuesday.

But I thought I'd drop a line, I just got in last night. If we're stuck here for the long haul, it'd be pretty nice to know a few more people than my teammates. So I'm here to say hello, introduce myself.

[And on that note…] I'm Layla Miller. I know stuff.

6collegecredits

[Darcy sits in front of her console and squints. Well. It's not Facebook but it's something. She leans back and relaxes her posture.]

Okay, so the idea of going to another world isn’t exactly new for me, but having it actually happen? Yeah, that’s pretty surprising. Man, Jane would flip if she knew about this! Also, the giant turtle thing? Crazy. But also pretty damn cool.

So anyway! Seeing as I’m stuck here for now, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Darcy: a severely underpaid intern who just earned her degree. Seriously, I didn’t even have time to celebrate before I turned up here. Looking forward to meeting all my turtle-neighbors, though. I don’t suppose this is some secret part of Asgard, is it? That’s the only other world I’m that familiar with.

Oh, and one more thing. I should probably ask this just in case: is there a Jane Foster or Erik Selvig here? Erik might be a little on the, erm, nutty side at the moment? Happens when you get an alien poking around in your head, I guess.

Thanks! See ya!

Tu Shanshu

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