5-24-15 That first mug of coffee...Commander Yarayn entered the forward lounge early in the morning, nursing a slight headache and generally acting grumpy. He shuffled over towards one of the food replicators and mumbled something unintelligible at it. The computer voice said in its gender neutral voice, "Unable to comply. Please repeat instructions in one of the 783,422.3 languages programmed into the computer database to continue." Vol just glared tiredly at the machine.5-24-15 That first mug of coffee... by Doomsday-Prophyt
In the forward lounge that morning was Doctor Jn'kuk, reviewing something on his PADD and having a morning croissant. He smelt of bread himself, though it was slightly less intense than before. He glanced up at Vol and watched him struggle with the machine with a faintly bemused face.
Vol stood glaring at the machine a few moments longer. Then, he cleared his throat and stated grumpily, "Coffee. Black. Hot." The replicator complied with his request, generating a large mug of steaming coffee for him. He sighed in relief and carried the mug over to a tw
Anxiety/I'm sorryShe is stressed.Anxiety/I'm sorry by Doomsday-Prophyt
I am stressed.
She can cope.
I have no coping mechanisms in place, because anxiety is new.
She yelled at me, insinuated I don't love her.
I know these feelings aren't normal; you don't have to tell me.
I know I need to get help for myself; you don't have to tell me.
I walk around the house, a shell of myself.
No one here to bear witness to my emptiness.
I fight off the tears, taking every ounce of my will.
Men aren't supposed to cry.
I know I smile and make others laugh; you don't have to remind me.
I know I've disappointed you before; you don't have to remind me.
I've cancelled something I normally enjoy, because the anxiety is too much.
The other express concern, but all I can say is I'm sorting things out.
My head hangs low and I sit in the car, unwilling to move.
Cat-venturers Part TwoCaduceus and Obsidian soon arrived in the Nobles' District to retrieve Obsidian's supplies from his hiding place. Caduceus slowed to a stop and shook some moisture from his forepaws. "All right, Ob. Where did you hide your supplies?"Cat-venturers Part Two by Doomsday-Prophyt
"This way, sirrr," he replied, taking the lead.
Obsidian led Caduceus down an alleyway to a small sewer grate set in the stones. "I hid them herrre, sirrr," he said, pulling himself onto his back paws and grasping the grate to lift it. After a few moments struggling, he turned to Caduceus for help.
Caduceus also set up on his back paws before walking over to grasp the grate in his forepaws. "When did you hide these?" he asked, tugging on the iron with Obsidian.
"This morrrning, beffforrre going back home."
"Caduceus nodded. "The metal must have expanded from the heat of the day." With a final tug, the iron popped loose. Obsidian reached into a small alcove underneath the lip of the hole. "This is a good hiding spot," Caduceus continued. "But I see what you
NaNoWriMo Planning SessionaWritten by: mimi-lolacuteNaNoWriMo Planning Sessiona by WriteRoomies
Hi all! Welcome to your count down NaNoWriMo prepping session hosted by the lovelies of #WriteRoom. The goal of this is to provide some aid in making sense of your probably best-seller idea for this year’s event. The sequence of events will be as follow:
Oct. 10: The elephant of the room: The Plot
A story without a plot is, well, some alien literary form that does not pertain to our venture. Today we have one mission: decide what the main and leading conflict is as to maintain a somewhat fluid set of events. Within the madness of your wonder ride, there must be some consistency, and that is provided by the plot.
Oct. 17: Where the heck is this? World Building 101
The setting can be as simple as a single room throughout the story, or as complex as the world of Westeros or Middle Earth. Whatever you decide, the setting must be established early on right after the plot. Knowing your story’s surrounding may ease the development of the story, and i
6-2-2015 Alyn is not amused....Vol was in the Officer's Room of the forward lounge, poring over a set of four PADDs and typing on a fifth (is it any wonder he would seek a little peace and quiet?). A forgotten mug of coffee was sitting to one side, with a long-cold pot next to it.
Alyn didn't often go looking for people, but in this case she did. After asking the computer where Vol was, she entered the Officer's Room of the forward lounge and crossed her arms. "So."
Vol didn't hear Alyn enter, but when she spoke, he glanced up, increasingly ever-present dark circle ringing his eyes. He replied, with a somewhat forced smile, "Yes, Lieutenant Commander?"
"Section 31. On the ship." Alyn said. "I know why you accepted their coterie, but I'm sure you know their reputation."
Vol sighed and gestured for Alyn to take a seat at his table. He stacked the PADDs onto a short tower and steepled his fingers together while replying, "I am well aware. Unfortunately, circumstances were beyond our control."
Alyn took the proffered se
Commander Yarayn entered the forward lounge early in the morning, nursing a slight headache and generally acting grumpy. He shuffled over towards one of the food replicators and mumbled something unintelligible at it. The computer voice said in its gender neutral voice, "Unable to comply. Please repeat instructions in one of the 783,422.3 languages programmed into the computer database to continue." Vol just glared tiredly at the machine.
Vol stood glaring at the machine a few moments longer. Then, he cleared his throat and stated grumpily, "Coffee. Black. Hot." The replicator complied with his request, generating a large mug of steaming coffee for him. He sighed in relief and carried the mug over to a two-seat table to enjoy it and wake up properly.
Vol looked up at Moko, dark circles under his eyes, then stared back into his mug, taking a deep drink before he responded, "Doctor."
Vol sighed, taking another deep sip, and said, "You'll have to remind me...or preferably show me the proposal on a PADD; I've not been sleeping well the last few nights." He just barely managed to stifle a yawn and continued, "If you ever have a chance to become first officer on a ship...well, you'll probably be used to the paperwork, being a doctor anyway."
Volurus blinked his eyes and squinted at the PADD for a few moments before rolling his eyes and smacking the side of his own head. He set down the PADD, lifted the collar of his uniform top, momentarily exposing his Cardassian military insignia, and retrieved a pair of wire frame glasses. Perching these on his nose, he picked the PADD back up and smirked. "That's better," he said, reading the text swiftly before setting the PADD back down and pulling off his glasses. "Well, doctor," he said, "Starfleet regulations already require regular exercise for all officers and enlisted sailors. However, I'll agree with your proposals for general first aid training and...the other items for stress relief purposes only. I can't tell you how many Cardassian soldier lives would have been saved if they'd only taught simple field medicine at the military academy." He handed the PADD back to Moko and gestured to the empty chair at his table.
Vol nodded and said, "Retinal damage during my service for Cardassia. Our ship was scanning a white dwarf star about twenty years ago when Gul Narcit wished to view the star on the screen. Everyone on the bridge was exposed to the intense white light before the computer managed to adjust the light shielding and brightness. I was lucky. Narcit and most of the rest of the bridge crew went blind. Our helmsman went slowly insane due to the retinal scarring reaching all the way into her frontal lobe. Murdered three of the engineers before we managed to take her out." He gazed into his mug solemnly.
Vol shrugged, drinking more coffee, and said, "I would, but the devices the Federation uses to regenerate retinal tissue resembles a very different device used by Cardassian...Well, in Starfleet, we call them 'security officers'. In any case, the device in question is a torture device used to...cook the victim's brain. Too hot, and the brain literally melts out the ears, but the idea is to make the victim suffer enough to tell the inquisitor whatever they want to know. I was forced to watch our 'security' officers kill one of the Vorta we captured after we joined the Cardassian Rebellion. It's part of why I defected after the war."
Vol smiled thinly at the offer. "Thank you, Doctor," he said. "But I've actually grown quite happy with my spectacles. Besides, we're supposed to hate each other on principle until some heart-wrenching moment when we finally start getting along for the Captain's sake. So sayeth the autobiography of Admiral Leonard McCoy." He laughed at the joke.
Vol nodded, then adopted an extremely grumpy look on his face. "You still smell like a bakery at low tide, though."
Vol waved one of his hands while he explained, a human trait he'd picked up at Starfleet Academy, "It's not the scent of a bakery...it's the overbearingly excessive scent of a bakery."
Vol gulped down the remainder of his coffee. "Well, I have a great many things to take care of today, Doctor. Manifests to go over and so on. Have a good day." He got up from the table, had a fresh travel mug of coffee replicated, and left the forward lounge.
Current Residence: North Carolina|
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Personal Quote: You can't rush these things you know; osmosis takes time!