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The STO forums - after midnight
generalmoco
Member Posts: 1,634
Edit:
Note this is an RP thread that takes place after midnight in the STO forums. While the setting to begin with is, weird... the story takes place, under to different timelines or rather a stable timeline (Stargate Hail Ba'al Rambling) and the multitude of this one.. so follow both treads to get the best of where this is going...
Once upon a mistful night, the lands of hates and trolls where at peace. The land where lord smirk and madam trendy ruled, it was a land where knights of armor, glamoured through the fog of the unknow; askray, midnightshadow ("what a more fitting name" said a voice that would seemed to echo on forever in the dawn of night) and that other guy who is hardly ever at night.
The night seemed grow quieter and quieter, but the air? Well the air, the air thickened and yet, it felt thin at the same time. Like, if... if it.. were... something to be desired, or amused by.
"What could this be?" asked a static, dry voice that came from the dark loomy shadow.
Note this is an RP thread that takes place after midnight in the STO forums. While the setting to begin with is, weird... the story takes place, under to different timelines or rather a stable timeline (Stargate Hail Ba'al Rambling) and the multitude of this one.. so follow both treads to get the best of where this is going...
Once upon a mistful night, the lands of hates and trolls where at peace. The land where lord smirk and madam trendy ruled, it was a land where knights of armor, glamoured through the fog of the unknow; askray, midnightshadow ("what a more fitting name" said a voice that would seemed to echo on forever in the dawn of night) and that other guy who is hardly ever at night.
The night seemed grow quieter and quieter, but the air? Well the air, the air thickened and yet, it felt thin at the same time. Like, if... if it.. were... something to be desired, or amused by.
"What could this be?" asked a static, dry voice that came from the dark loomy shadow.
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normal text = me speaking as fellow formite
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Hehe, just add what you can
The only response was the occasional hiss and shadow of something darting in the distance.
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Was he kidnapped, captured or perhaps ... worse ?
The search must go on for Sulu.. no matter the gruesome discoveries we might uncover...
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The dry static voice begins, *talking to himself* ergh, just another lost hope. God. *keeps talking to himself* Its been 20 years since the incident. I still remeber it like if where yesterday. Will never forget the day i stepped in to the wrong starship. Bah. The Lexington. Krystal... Jessica..........
*keeps* walking
*narrator begins*
And so the timelines seemed to have mixed into a awry, dry, elongated time of events. This all started when Lord Smirk changed the future... How? The mistery reminds.
"What was that?" he asked.
There was no reply. He looked around the edges of the room, but the dark devoured the scant light given off by his small lamp. The lack of a reply aroused his curiosity, for he was sure somebody had asked a question. He reached for the shade of his desk lamp.
"What was that?" he asked again. "I didn't quite hear you. Could you repeat that please?"
There was still no reply. Lifting the lamp shade, he angled the light around the room. There was nobody else there. He was alone, but he was sure he had heard somebody. He was sure a question had been asked.
"I'm too old for these games, I'll have you know. I simply do not have the patience for them."
There was only the sound of his chair scraping the floor, as he pushed back from his desk, as any form of a reply. He started to grow impatient. Fingers tapping harder and harder against his desktop, he wondered if it was somebody's idea of a joke. Were they trying to frighten an old man in the middle of the night?
He noticed that it appeared darker than usual. The thought caused him a chill, and he began massaging his brow again.
"This is foolish," he said with the tone too deep for his normal voice.
Wondering why he was feigning such false bravado, he noticed he was feeling a fear that he had not felt in some time. He remembered the dark passages, the sparks flying, the hiss of radioactive steam, and the door that cut him off from the rest of his crew. He pulled a hair from the back of his hand and snapped out of it.
"Stupid memories. Stupid, stupid, stupid."
Something fell behind him, and he jumped in his chair. He reached out to grab anything to defend himself, but in the commotion he only managed to knock his calculator off the desk. It clattered to the floor, echoing amongst the shadows of the room.
"Damn it all, who's there? I'm not in the mood!" he said. The anger in his voice clear, he asked, "who's bloody there?"
But there was no reply. Casting a wary eye about the room, he pushed his chair further away from the desk and looked to see where his calculator had fallen. It had bounced to the edge of the light from his small lamp - the corner lost to the shadows.
"Damn it all."
He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he feared was coming next. He knew he had no choice though. He could not leave the calculator on the floor. It was sheer compulsion, the most base of needs, that he not leave it there. So holding on to the armrest of the chair, he scooted to the edge of the seat; he leaned forward, reaching for the calculator, leaning lower and lower, until it was almost in reach. Just as the tip of his finger was about to touch it, he farted.
"Sorry to have scared you sir. Name is ander, I am in search for my correct timeline. This may seem strange, but I no longer care of disrupting the flow of time. I seem to be tangled in a line of timelines. The last notion of time line was presented to me 20 years ago. Twenty Four Ten. I was aboard the Lexington when it all happened. Now please, *pauses for a moment*is the stardate Twenty Thirty?"
Once there was a Starfleet admiral who was very fond of Chinese shumai pork dumplings. One day, a former protege of his gave him a gift box containing nine shumai dumplings, as a gesture of thanks for mentoring him to captaincy. The admiral happily accepted the gift.
The next evening, he decided he would try one of the shumai dumplings. When he lifted the lid of the box, he found that one dumpling was missing. Suspicions that someone stole his food turned to unease when security logs indicated that no-one had access to his personal quarters while he was away.
Concerned that he was getting paranoid in his old age, the admiral replaced the lid and opened the box again just to be sure. This time, another dumpling had disappeared.
As irrational fear gripped him, the admiral began replacing and lifting the lid, again and again. One by one, the dumplings all disappeared.
On the verge of panic, he lifted the lid one more time, and as it turned out, each of the dumplings had been mysteriously stuck to the underside of the box's lid!
Shortly after this revelation, the admiral departed on a shuttlecraft to visit the Starfleet garrison on the contested colony of Korvat. When he did not arrive on time, a starship was dispatched to his last known position - the crew eventually found the shuttle adrift, and the admiral's body slumped in the pilot's seat, dead from what appeared to have been a heart attack.
As per Starfleet tradition, the admiral's body was placed inside a Photon Torpedo casing, ready to for a space burial. Relatives, friends, and acquaintances came from across the Quadrant to attend his wake and pay their final respects.
When the lid of the Torpedo casket was lifted one last time, the mourners gasped - the casket was empty!
Amidst the panic that followed, one of the guests noticed that there was something off about the lid of the casket. With the help of a number of Starfleet officers, they turned it over...
...and found the admiral's body, stuck to the underside of the lid!
(original)
well generalmoco...after midnight the wesleyites come out and with a ALF doll roasting on a pole circle around it chanting "Hail Wesley our master "....they are a very creepy lot all dressed in robes and hoods.
then theres that other group that worship tacofangs since h is the forum overlord ...they arent so creepy though the covering themselves with shreeded beef and lettuce is kinda weird.
and finally theres the smirkonians its difficult to say exactly what they do or what they want from us....their very ...cryptic
That said...
The man who was sitting on the desk did not answer back. It seemed like hours passed and yet no reply.
Ander pulled out the strange device for which he had seemed to be holding. His rigged fingers pressed the side of it. A beeping sound came about followed by a young female voice.
"Authorization code entry reecognized. Hello Lt. Commander Ander"
Ander paused, and looked at the man behind the dezk, he seemed to be frozen in place.
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*sees all the Sulu references*
And here I thought he went back in time a couple million years, got himself a robot body, and became one of the Thirteen Primes of Cybertron (the Archivist, I believe)...
"Hah! You are doomed! You're only armed with that pathetic excuse for a musical instrument!!!" *the Savage Beast moments before Lonnehart the Bard used music to soothe him... then beat him to death with his Fat Lute*
Both men looked up at the air vent only to find nothing, so they resumed their casual conversation.
Minutes went by and subjects changed from racket ball to theft reports but unbeknownst to them, an evil plan was being formulated in the airvent.
Ten minutes had gone by and Ander finally left. Once he was gone, the man sank back down into his office chair, only to be knocked unconscious by a dazzling blue light. His useless body slumped over the desk.
The air vent grill then flew explosively across the room and a Ferengi holding an energy whip crawled out of the space. Looking around the room to make sure he was not being monitored by unseen eyes, he tiptoed over to the man and withdrew three strips of latnium from his limp body. Once he obtained his latest prize, the Ferengi crawled back into the air vent...
The air vent began plotting against the foul ferengi.
The air vent suddenly grabbed the Ferengi's leg with a dangling wire and began choking him with another.
Gasping for air, the Ferengi yelled: "Please! Don't kill me! I will give you three strips of latnium for my life!"
He then threw the three strips further into the vent. Accepting the bribe, the wires withdrew and allowed the little man to continue on his way...
The vent begins contemplating how to spend its newfound money and comes upon the realization that it is imobile and thus will be unable to spend it.
The man slumped over the desk farted again and, drawing in air, the vent went unconscious due to the repulsive smell of the farted methane gas.
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As the third blow was nearing, Ander *which all seemed to be happening in some sort of slow motion*
Looked on to the device he was carrying. His Rigged fingers pressed on the side as the young voice talked to him once again.
*in a slow voice*
"Authorization code entry reecognized. Hello Lt. Commander Ander"
Ander desperately said
"Alpha 1 Ander 3"
There was only a glow as the Ferengi fell into his the butt of the man behind Ander, which at the precise moment, farted into the Ferengi's face
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The Vent: *Speaking in a british accent.* I would appreciate if you'd be more careful in your ocmings and goings. I think I might be getting a rash from you.
The place, unlike the previous one, was sunny, full of light. In the distance you could see Cadets getting ready to be assigned to their respective ships.
"I'd better get up there"
Ander walked into the rear side of the shuttle landing area, where with a tab of his combadge, his whole uniform turned that into of a Cadet.
"Now where is that son...."
Ander was abruptly interrupted by an Officer, who seem to ask a question that was... rhetorical...
*Sitting beside him is the newest recruit the sarcastic and british Vent. Simply a chunk of wall with a grate on it he is ambitious to a point. And somehow he moves whenever you arent looking at him.*
Vent: Oh new guy are you? It will take the heat off me atleast. So much is expected of me I mean seriously I'm an inanimate object what do they want me to do? Talk people to death? Actually that's not such a bad Idea.
You've been following me aren't ya? Last timeline I was in, the fri*k*n Ferengi eh!!! You where there.
Alright, might as well just get used to you. Since you know everything now.
Technically I am not a Cadet, nor a Lt Commander. I am indeed a Section 31 Operative.
I am a Captain but, nontheless, that matters non, since I get different ranks in everynew Timeline. Been Ensign, Commander, Admiral, Even Fleet Admiral. But bah, thats old news...
Now, Vent...
*looking at him* help me find this intrepid person I seek. All you need to know is his name is Commodore Nerek! All other info is classified, but, that matters non, you'll figure this out sooner or later... You help me, Section 31 could use a person with your skills...
*takes Vent's padd and overrides the logs with the pass of his hand*
After so many different timelines, you start to learn a lot. And indeed I was there. That Ferengie was weird, 2 blows to the face, did not see that coming.
*hands the padd back*