Message: 3
Date: Mon, 28 Nov 2005 22:14:04 -0500
From: Morgan Allgood <lady_elf@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [DL-W] Drawing a Blank
Faylen laughed gleefully, her heart gladdened by the mead she'd drank
at
Dru'Kar's little celebration as she hurried toward the carnival
tents. Yes, it was a wonderful thing when two hearts met as one, she
decided as her thoughts drifted longingly toward J'red.
"Faylen!" A voice called out behind her, stopping her literally in her
tracks. She turned to see who was calling her.
"Oh... Hi, Barsel." Faylen replied.
"Don't sound so thrilled."
"Oh, it's not you. My mind was just elsewhere." Faylen apologized.
"Where are you off to?"
"The carnival," Faylen smiled.
"Me, too!" Barsel brightened, "This should be fun."
"I hope so..." Faylen said diplomatically. She hoped there would be no
further incidents with wounded animals. "I'll be sitting by Merissa.
You're
welcome to join me."
"Great!" Barsel beamed.
<<TAG if you wish, Arlene. Anything more to add?>>
***
The two arrived at the carnival and wended their way toward Merissa.
There
was excitement and anticipation in the air was easily palpable to the
empathic queenrider, who just let it drift to the back of her
consciousness
to avoid overwhelming herself.
"Faylen!" Merissa greeted. "Have you met Bubba? He's the one
responsible
for our entertainment this evening.
"Charmed," Faylen said as he shook her hand.
Faylen opened herself up to the feelings wafting off of Barsel,
Merissa,
and the man introduced as Bubba, as she always did in a crowd. But she
stood in stunned silence, staring agape at the man.
<My rider, what's wrong?> Shyla begged. Discomfort was not strong
enough a
word for the feelings that the young queen was sensing from her rider.
<Nothing. Just... nothing.> Faylen was still in shock.
<Nothing? It sure feels like something is wrong.> Shyla shot back.
<No, 'nothing' is exactly what's wrong. This man... > Faylen responded.
<Well, if it's a people thing, then maybe you should tell Merissa,>
Shyla
counselled.
"Faylen? Faylen, are you all right?" Merissa's voice broke through.
"You look white as a ghost!" Barsel fretted.
"Oh, I'm sorry." She looked at the carnival man in front of her. How
could
she explain what she was just feeling, or rather not feeling? She'd
never
had this happen before, and wasn't sure how to explain it. But the one
thing she knew for certain was that now was not the time to discuss it.
"The carnival, the crowds, I guess it just got a bit overwhelming."
Faylen
offered in excuse.
<<Tag again Arlene! And Tag Carys! Anything more to add?>>
***
Day 18 - Morning
Faylen dressed quickly and made her way to the hatching cavern. Wild
eggs
and only two of them, the dragons were no less excited than if there'd
been
two dozen queen eggs on the sands. She found her seat by Merissa and
the
two queenriders watched as the first egg began to hatch.
"Isn't that the new scribe from the office?" Faylen asked. "The quiet
girl,
Navra?"
"It is!" Merissa said. "How wonderful for her!"
"It'll be good to have another joined rider in the office, especially
now
that Eleanora's gone."
<<SNIP: Ialir's Errant Rider >>
The second egg rocked violently, as if the little dragon inside were
wrestling before it suddenly split in several places that the tiny
white
and blue-striped dragon fell into the sands. It took a moment for it
to
slowly uncurl from its accustomed egg-shaped form, but as it did, it
was
apparent that it was a rather thin and rather long hatchling.
Breaths were held as everyone waited for the one voice that would call
out to it and run to join their new dragon. But no one came.
The little dragon looked around with unblinking eyes and then began to
make its way toward the open sunshine.
"Going wild." Whispers and shaken heads as they all watched the small
dragon pulling itself along. "Didn't join." "Not surprised, both
parents were wilders."
Merissa looked around the crowd and then watched the young one slowly
making its way to the entrance. Once there it would likely leap into
the air and teleport... that's what other unjoined hatchlings had done
in the past. Well, at least one of the two had joined.
<<END Snip>>
Faylen watched as Merissa followed her queen and the young hatchling
out of
the hatching cavern, hoped that they did indeed find the newest rider
so
that the poor young hatching didn't go wild or worse. But, for now her
concern was the rider of the first hatchling.
Faylen brushed off her skirt and made her way down to where Navra was
with
the new purple hatchling. It was about the size of a full grown large
dog,
which was normal for a hatching. She was a little bigger than Shyla was
at
hatching, but Faylen was certain the young queen was starting to catch
up.
She was already bigger than Areena. But she decided that maybe today
would
be a good day to have Dalmar look at her.
Faylen picked up one of the buckets of raw meat that one of the kitchen
workers had brought in and carried it over to the scribe and her new
soulmate. The hunger wafting off the hatchling was intense as it always
was
when they were first born. She smiled as she remembered how
overwhelming it
was for her when she felt Shyla's first hunger pangs not so long ago.
It
took a bit to sort out Shyla's feeling from her own, though she
supposed it
was easier for her, being an empath, than it was for most people.
"Navra! Congratulations!" Faylen said, embracing the young woman with
her
free arm. "What's her name?"
"Zalyth."
"I'm betting she's pretty hungry. I brought some raw meat to feed her,"
Faylen offered, reaching into the bucket and handing a hunk of raw meat
to
Navra."
<<TAG Kara! And welcome to WhiteRiver!>>
****
**Dining Hall**
A celebratory feast had once again been set up in the dining hall, as
was
the custom with hatchings. Faylen filled her plate and made her way to
her
seat. She stopped by Dalmar's table along the way.
"Dalmar!" Faylen squealed excitedly. "I need you're expertise."
"Oh, is something wrong with Shyla?"
"No, no... actually the opposite. I think something wonderful has
happened.
"What then?"
"This morning, I went to put her saddle on her, and it was a bit...
snug.
Dalmar," Faylen beamed, "I don't know if it's my imagination, but I
think
she's grown!"
"Crowded in here, too." someone said just then.
She turned and faced the man named Bubba. Again she tried to feel his
emotions, and again she came up blank. She fought against the disquiet
rising from the emotional silence, trying to maintain her composure.
"I said, It's crowded in here, too," Bubba repeated.
"Yes... " Faylen trailed off. "It always is crowded in the dining
hall."
Faylen then turned back to Dalmar, "If you could look into the matter
and
give me your opinion, I'd really appreciate it."
<<TAG John!>>
She made her way past the carnie and sat down by Merissa and Latnem,
grateful that they were the only other people at that table.
"Are you all right?" Merissa asked.
Faylen looked over her shoulder and drew a deep but shaky breath as she
saw
Bubba take a seat on the opposite side of the dining hall, well out of
ear
shot.
"I'm not sure. But I'm glad the two of you are here, so I only have to
explain this once."
"I have this... ability," Faylen explained in hushed tones, "I can feel
what other's feel."
"An empath." Latnem supplied.
Faylen nodded. "Yes, that's it. But something's happened that's a bit
unnerving. And I'm not sure if it's him or something wrong with me."
"Him?"
"Bubba, the man from the carnival."
"He seems nice enough," Merissa said.
"He's a complete blank!" Faylen whispered excitedly. "I can feel
something
off of everyone in this room. Even you, Latnem, but, I cannot feel one
single scrap of an emotional response at all from him."
<<Tag Arlene! Carys, what's Bubba thinking?>>
********************
SUMMARY:
DAY 17- Evening
Faylen leaves Dru'Kar's little party in the dining hall and heads for
the
carnival. On the way, she is joined by Barsel. When they get there,
Merissa
introduces them to Bubba. Upon meeting the man, Faylen becomes quite
unsettled for reasons she can't quite explain at that moment. She
blames
her discomfort on the crowds.
DAY 18- Morning
At the hatching, Faylen and Merissa see their new scribe Navra join up
with
the first of the hatchlings. After Merissa and Chrythal head out to
find
the rider that matches up to the second hatchling, Faylen grabs a
bucket of
meat for the hatching and goes up to congratulate Navra.
At the dining hall, a celebration has begun. Faylen stops to talk to
Dalmar
and asks him to check on Shyla's growth, thinking she's finally
starting to
catch up with a late growth spurt. As they talk, Bubba comes up behind
her
and mentions how crowded the dining hall is.
Faylen joins Merissa and Latnem for breakfast where she explains the
reason
she's so upset, that she cannot sense any emotions off of Bubba at all.
****************************
Respectfully submitted by,
Morgan (Faylen and Latnem)
lady_elf@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
Amazon.com Wish List http://www.amazon.com/o/registry/AT4JWDUFRAML
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
Message: 4
Date: Tue, 29 Nov 2005 03:58:03 -0800 (PST)
From: Ron Lund <rermjmt@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [Calypso] Show Me your Human Side...
[SD 71125.1036, USS Calypso-B]
[MD 4, 1935 hrs]
[Deck 7, Tactical Officer's Quarters]
Once Guenthar had been assigned a room by Operations (he was escorted
to his room by a jittery young yeoman named Summers), he decided to
organize his belongings, check out the ship's manifest and protocols
from his room, and familiarize himself with his new position, the crew
under his command, and the tactical situation of the ship. He wouldn't
have to report to duty for another two days, giving him time to talk to
the Counselor, visit Sickbay, finish his orientation, and acquaint
himself with the Tactical and Security Teams. After about 2 hours of
studying, Guenthar decided to take a moment from his "homework" to go
to the mess hall and get something to eat. He wasn't so hungry as much
as that he wanted to gauge the crew's response to his appearance and
demeanor, as well as how they would react to their new Tactical
Officer.
[Deck 12, Crew Dining Hall, 2135 hrs]
Ensign Tachlan arrived to a busy mess hall, as the third shift was
gathering to eat their breakfast. There was chattering, laughing, and
the shuffling of feet and plates as the crewmen received their food
from the replicators or from the catering window. Stepping more into
the view of his crewmen, however, the chatter and banter came to a dead
halt, and the clattering of trays ceased as virtually the entire room
squelched itself at the arrival of the Tactical Officer. It took but a
few moments for the noise level to return to normal, but significantly
longer for the odd stares and the whispering to subside. Some of the
passing crew members greeted him. "Good evening, sir..." they said
quickly as they passed, or a simple, "by your leave, sir..." Guenthar
moved quickly to get himself some food and decided to take it back to
his quarters. As he left, he heard the whispers crescendo into
questioning remarks and comments, bringing a smile (if you could call
it that) to his face.
[MD 5, 0035 hrs]
[Heading to Sickbay, Deck 10]
Unable to sleep, and no longer able to digest any more reading for
the night, Guenthar decided to "bite the bullet" and visit Sickbay. He
had been putting this off for long enough. Guenthar found submission to
an examination at the hands of a robot, albeit a sophisticated
simulacrum projection, to be distasteful. While most people were "put
off" by the EMH Mark I, Guenthar felt that the flat, direct, and often
blunt diagnosis of the Mark I was robotic, and therefore suited the
EMH's function and design. It was a robot, designed to assist the
medical staff in short-handed and dangerous situations where humans
were incapable of keeping up or unequipped to endure the conditions
surrounding the patient. Giving it warmth, simulated feelings, and a
pretty face only distracted from its function, in Guenthar's eyes
anyway.
As the sickbay doors opened, the response of the EMH was almost
immediate. "Greetings, Ensign Tachlan. Are you ready for your
physical??" the voice of the EMH sprang to life, as the form of a
Denobulan male in a medical smock materialized in front of him.
"Impressive," Guenthar walked around the hologram, "for a robot," he
added disdainfully, hoping that if this program had been installed with
emotion translator programming, that it might take offense. "EMH
activation tied to entrance protocols of the door, tied into the main
computer's personnel roster and schedule, extrapolating that I am here
for my scheduled physical..." Guenthar then looked over the door, to
see that a medical feinberger tri-corder had been installed along the
entrance, scanning everyone who entered. "And with information gleaned
from this tri-corder, you deduced that there was no medical emergency,
or no door malfunction, eh??" Guenthar further deduced. "What will
they think of next??" he mused.
"Please, Ensign, take a seat on the bio-bed," the Denobulan
doppleganger instructed, "this physical shouldn't take more than a
couple minutes," he added. As the scan began, Guenthar became
increasingly more irritated with the EMH chatter. "Interesting," the
hologram interjected. "there is no match for your species in our
database... obvious Nausicaan and Tellarite traits... with notable
gentic deviations... dermal electrostatic agitation triggered by
adrenal levels and muscle tension... heightened strength, even for a
Nausicaan... stiffened defensive quills along forearms and shins, with
finer quills along the shoulders and interlaced with your hair along
the scalp... and a very interesting blood workup... appears you have
antibodies to Virus 3416, a virulent Romulan disease... you have
extensive scarring, and indications of numerous untreated fractures in
early childhood," the EMH noted compassionately. "Were you in an
accident as a child, Guenthar??"
"I don't participate in conversations with machines," Guenthar shot
back at the EMH. "Don't try and play humanoid with me. Perform your
programmed task, document your findings, mute linguistics and disable
interactive empathy protocols with me on all future contact, do you
understand?!?"
The EMH nodded in compliance.
"Transfer all accumulated data to the bio-bed monitor," Guenthar
commanded. The EMH continued on quietly, performing his duties as
commanded. When finished, the bio-bed monitor beeped, and proclaimed
that Guenthar's medical examination was complete and that is was fit
for duty. Lunging off the bio-bed, Guenthar stormed out of Sickbay and
headed for his room.
"Sleep well, Ensign Tachlan..." the EMH commented quietly as the
Sickbay doors closed, causing him to dematerialize.
Summary:
MD4, 1935 hrs: Guenthar is escorted to his quarters, where he begins
to settle in.
MD4, 2135 hrs: Guenthar takes a break to get something to eat, as well
as to "gauge" the reaction of the enlisted crew to his appearance,
demeanor, and position on the ship.
MD5, 0035 hrs: Guenthar goes to Sickbay from his room, unable to
sleep, to get his physical out of the way. Confronts the EMH and
directs him to not pretend to be human in his interactions with him.
Respectfully Submitted By:
Ron Lund
Ensign Guenthar Tachlan, Tactical Officer, USS Calypso-B
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