#dannsa-dotair

[my-timing-is-digital]

send  👫  for  a  reunion  starter

After the conclusion of Clemens' debacle, and his and Guinan's subsequent departures, the android repositioned the transreceiver in his supposed prototypical device for the horseless carriages and settled himself at the desk, monitoring the instrument's workings deliberately. Assiduously, he observed the rhythmic oscillations of the metal indicator, which functioned in a similar fashion as an analogue seismograph. Thus far, his device had not measured any time shifts, and would not for the next 39 minutes...

A long-awaited, arrhythmic scratching sound instantaneously tore his attention to the contraption. Excitedly, the pen attached to the end of the indicator recorded the occurrence — the device finally measured the time shift he had been anticipating —, and based off of the particulars printed on the sheet of paper, he could accurately determine the epicentre of the spatial distortion. Data consulted a map of the town to confirm the location, and without a moment's hesitation, he leapt to his feet and vacated his room. He navigated himself down a flight of stairs with mathematical precision and hurried outside where he supplied the bellboy, Jack, with sufficient 19th century currency to have him procure a carriage, preferably drawn by two equines — to multiply the carriage's power.

The ever-efficient hotel employee immediately scurried off to the stables and returned within several minutes, gesturing gleefully at the wagon he had snatched from an agitated colleague. Prior to mounting the box, Data expressed his gratitude for his services and pressed an additional sum of money in the boy's hand. He had never rode on horseback, let alone piloted a vehicle that was pulled by two of them, but he had judged it advantageous to observe others operate this form of transportation, in case he would relay on its services in the foreseeable future — he was glad he had pursued that particular endeavour.

Data armed himself with the reins and managed to set the equines into motion, gently instructing the animals to accelerate. The terminal words of farewell that emanated from the bellboy were left behind in a cloud of dust...

The carriage careened through the streets, teetering uncomfortably toward his destination: the local hospital. And it was not until he was in close proximity of the aforementioned facility that his positronic subprocessors sensed the familiar hum of 24th century technology, or rather, the wavelengths of a tricorder that was broadcasting signals on all frequencies. While he narrowly circumvented a collision with another horse-drawn carriage, he inferred that the others must have successfully ferried themselves across the frontiers of time and were here to assist him.

When the carriage swept around a corner, the tricorder transmission started to grow stronger and more prominent; his conjecture was confirmed when he sighted the others filing out of the hospital, and he promptly surmised that the occurrence of the time shift might have been a joint effort between them and the two individuals with the ophidian. Unfortunately, he could not initiate his interrogation, for his friends appeared to have antagonised the local police force.

'Data!' Commander Riker's loud, sonorous voice lacerated through the air, alerting him, unnecessarily, of their presence.

The android pulled on the reins to render the equines stationary adjacent to the pavement, allowing his friends to embark the vehicle.

'Doctor,' Data said, his own voice extraordinarily tranquil. He extended his hand for to grab and join him on the box seat while the others clambered into the carriage. 'It is good to see you again.'

'Go, Data! Hurry!' Captain Picard ordered, an urgent accentuation vibrated in the words he had enunciated.

'Aye, sir,' he replied compliantly, providing the horses with the objective to proceed down the street, with the intention to escape the police and take temporary refuge in the countryside until the coast was clear and they were certain no reinforcements would be ambushing them upon their return...

[wcrpbubble]

" I thought you might like some company "

for Deanna!

deanna stabs a fork through the chocolate cake in front of her, a bit more aggressively than intended. her mood is . . . not quite sour, but unhappy - hence her current place in ten forward with a large slice of guinan's finest chocolate cake and a cup of coffee. she isn't even really hungry, but it's her comfort food and deanna has never let a good chocolate dessert go to waste. she spears a bit more icing from the top and licks it off the fork, washing the whole bite down with more coffee.

at beverly's voice, she looks up, nudging the chair across from her away from the table so beverly can join her.

"i can't promise i am very good company at the moment." she says with a soft sigh, grabbing another forkful of just icing and eating it. she's certain she could spend most of the night like this - but beverly's company is welcome. in truth, she'd been about to call beverly to see if she were free; perhaps the doctor has gathered telepathic abilities of her own to known that deanna needed company. the empath sighs, resting her chin in her hand (and trying not to think how much her mother would admonish her for having her elbow on the table).

"why are men always such infernal annoyances? i think they do it deliberately. feign their idiocy so that women might take care of them and their fragile little egos."

[boymagicked]

"My sister's the dreamer, Doctor," he comments, turning to face @dannsa-dotair with a fond smile.

"She's been dreaming of becoming a famous captain since before she could walk. Not that I blame her. All those stars..." he muses with a wistful look. "It must be wonderful out there. You and your crew must've seen so much! Have you ever--"

Sam cuts himself off from the sudden display of youthful exuberance, bowing his head in an attempt to hide the embarrassed flush of pink dusting his cheeks.

"... Is there anything else you'd like me to show you?" // starter call!

[dimensionalspades]

PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER !

alias / name : Col birthday : March 28 zodiac sign : Aries height : 5'6 hobbies : Gaming, writing, gardening, reading favourite colour : Burgundy favourite book : Legit almost everything by Tess Gerritsen last film / show : It's always Star Trek DS9 inspiration : Uhhh? Music, usually? story behind url : It was initially facetedspades because facets are sides and I've been 'spades' for like a decade now, so 'sides of spades' being all these characters but unfortunately tumblr fucking blows sometimes and nuked my entire blog, so I just chose a different thing for 'parts of' that worked with spades and slapped it on. Continuing my trend of overly long urls ever since 'feralqueendancer' my valka fun fact about me : I have EDS and sometimes if I sit in the right chair I fold my legs up to use my ankle as an armrest.

tagged by : @lunawish (sorry I'm so late thank you!) tagging : @dreamsofalife @dannsa-dotair @my-timing-is-digital @regaledtales @juramentum @fiendrites @galefcrce @ownward and YOU! Do it and tag me!

[ganymakes]

GIVEAWAY RESULTS.

thank you for the massive support and turnout for my first give away here — it sure will NOT be the last, that’s for sure! now without any further ados... drumroll please.

first place: a blog makeover package (mobile / dash header, post graphics, customized icon block quotes, 150 icons, basic carrd page, promo graphics etc etc) OR a fully rendered drawing of anything your choice

> @brawlqueen

second place: a blog starter pack — dash header, custom blockquotes psd, promo & post graphics OR a drawing of something your choice in flat colours only

> @afraidofchange

third place: any two of: dash header, custom blockquotes psd, 150 icons, basic carrd page, promo graphics, post graphics, dash icon OR an uncoloured sketch

> @transforms 

Oh! and a nice new years surprise — I picked three EXTRA names for a prize. 

the prize is : any ONE of: dash header, custom blockquotes psd, 150 icons, basic carrd page, promo graphics, post graphics, dash icon OR an uncoloured sketch

these folks are: @dannsa-dotair , @inkantation, @heartwilled​

please contact me within the next 24 hours to claim your prize or else it’ll go to someone on my secret runners up list! anyways, thank you for the support and happy new year everyone!

[colnerys]

I LOVE THIS MEME PLEASE, accepting.

blood blooms from the lacerations atop her knuckles. fists clenched raw, trembling as the dull pain shoots through her arm. boxes of empty metal cargo containers dented and bloodied as she pictures the face of that cardassian she’d met earlier. 

she remembers being six years old and taking her little brother, reon, to look for food for their starved family —— then it’s a chilled shiver running up her spine as she remembers everything vividly. eyes shut tight, tempering the panic that threatens to rise as her heart refuses to settle despite her best effort to calm herself. kira throws another punch, as the panic of watching her little brother cry out of fear sickens her. 

then as if her throat’s closing, as if her hair’s being pulled out —— nerys cries as if she was that terrified child being threatened to be sent to an orphanage by the very same cardassian present at the conference. he was younger but just as dubious. through the midst of her sobs, she still has the will to stand and bludgeon the object. 

but before she could throw another punch she hears foreign footsteps and immediately stops. glassy doe eyes look at the general direction of the fiery red hair. tears stain her cheeks with dried up patches of blood rusting at the corners of her lips. 

kira wants to speak. kira wants to protest as @dannsa-dotair​ approaches. kira desperately wants to persuade the other that she’s fine —— after all, what sort of commanding officer breaks down at the sight of a species that’s exploited her people? she doesn’t have a monopoly on trauma. 

pull away. pull away, nerys! her head bows, burying her face against the crook of beverly’s neck. kira sobs and whimpers some unintelligible words.in spite of everything —— nerys knows that deep down, she needs comfort. 

❰❰ PANIC ❱❱   sender comforts the receiver as they have a panic attack or get overstimulated

[alyafae-a]

Even at her very young age there are few things she is truly afraid of. Some of those thing seem far more reasonable than others but it’s not like she makes the rules.     . . .      “ want me to spray the monster under the bed? ” Beverly ( @dannsa-dotair​ ) asks with a gentle voice and Lucille pulls her blanket up a little higher     . . .     The mere idea that there could be a monster under her bed  —  no matter how small or big it might be  —  is just painfully disturbing. Enough to keep the young girl awake for most of the night until she would fall asleep from exhaustion. And in the morning, things wouldn’t be any better either.    “ Oui Maman, ”    she eventually whispers pulling up her legs as she carefully watches her mother. Lucille doesn’t miss out a single step as if she’s mentally preparing to do all this herself when she’s older so she doesn’t need her mother to look out for her as much anymore. ( If only she had known that two years from now on she wouldn’t even believe in those monsters anymore. )

Impatiently, she begins to shift on top of the bed before she carefully moves to the edge to peak over it and look down.    “ Is it a big one? Does it want to eat me? ”    The girl gasps, quickly leaning back again to lie in the middle of the bed. Her fear is ridiculous. Even if there as a monster and it would try to eat her once she’s asleep, she knows that her mother would be there to rescue her the moment she calls out for help.    “ You won’t let it, right? ”

[moonshadowed]

@dannsa-dotair​ inquires:  [ DISCUSS ]

’ THINGS DONE WHILE DANCING. ‘ always accepting.

He’s never liked Starfleet functions. He can put up with them for a short while-- a polite smile, a friendly nod here and there, attempting to drone out the idle chatter of the day-- but when it was a days-long event such as this, he often wishes for anything to take him back to the quietude and relative safety of the Enterprise and let him escape his torment.

At least he’s not alone this time. Beverly is here, suffering in this heretofore undiscovered circle of hell with him, and while he always is appreciative of her companionship, he feels all the more thankful for her presence when she grasps him gently by the hand, pulling him upright and toward the dance floor, away from the admirals and their petty gossip. His heart lightens with every step they take. 

Dancing doctor she may be, he finds himself falling comfortably into the rhythm of the steps and the music, one of his hands clasped in hers and the other hand resting on her hip. 

“I’m very grateful for your rescue,” Jean-Luc begins, “though, do I take it you’re just as bored by this as I am?” he inquires, eyebrow raised and a teasing smile playing across his features.

[fatalelity]

there’s been this virus that’s affecting all the humans on the ship — the amount of people she had to relieve from duty in itself would be a lethal drinking game ... not that dr. montgomery partake in games like that —— at least, not anymore.   it seems that her & other human hybrids had a genetic safeguard.  still a mystery nonetheless,  a vaccine still seemingly lightyears away from production — addison can only be grateful that the symptoms only mirrored the flu  (  of course, she’s already attempted the old fashioned treatments — no effect, obviously  ).   

standing in beverly’s quarters, addison’s pulling out an assortment of items from her bag —— anything ranging from medical equipment to her personal skin care masks & balms & a strange assortment of nail-polishes.  evidently, she hasn’t been spending much time in her own quarters as indicated by her external hobbies mixing with her medical supplies. 

❛  i  …  really  don’t  feel  so  hot  .  no  ,  not  like  that   —  shut  up  .  ❜    @dannsa-dotair​  protests. 

addison only offers a raised brow before a sly smirk before finally grabbing a hold of her tricorder after rummaging through her uncharacteristically unruly pile of stuff. checking beverly’s temperature, she could help but to press the back of her hand against the warm forehead. 

“  you’re right ...  ”   addison almost murmurs as she stops, her palm cupping her face.   “   you’re burning.   ”

[my-timing-is-digital]

❛ why were they coming after you? ❜

A question that was still occupying his own mind as well. He could not devise an adequate hypothesis regarding the native inhabitants’ motives, let alone substantiate one.

    ‘I do not know. Perhaps I said something wrong?’ Data pondered, accessing and evaluating his memory files meticulously. ‘As far as I am concerned, I communicated with them in adherence to their etiquette...’

    An etiquette that was comprised of 2947 rules, all of which he had downloaded into his database — it was the only way they could help these people.

    ‘It is peculiar that they transmitted a subspace distress signal, but complicate matters for themselves by demanding these strict regulations to be upheld by individuals who are not familiar with their traditions,’ he said, shaking his head incredulously. ‘Oh, and Doctor, there is something else. They might be a pre-warp civilisation, but I have ascertained — from experience, I might add — that their technology is advanced and destructive,’ he added, turning his back to the Doctor so she could assess the damage he had sustained.

    The firearm wielded by their leader had perforated the skin in-between his shoulder blades; his carapace had been completely disintegrated and his bioplast sheeting vapourised. His circuitry lay exposed and was punctured in places. The impact had initiated his secondary shielding to protect his positronic brain; a self-preservation program that was only initiated in the event of a power surge... Whatever substance had been discharged by the weapon would incapacitate a human with simplicity and accuracy.

[cptnseven]

PROMPT,   from   @dannsa-dotair​.​​

message contents:   "Press that against the wound, I'm going to get the med kit."

status:  CHANNELS ARE OPEN.  

“i don’t require medical attention,”   a statement uttered with a tense jaw,  breathing heavy as she does,  at least,  comply in holding the makeshift bandage to the wound.  perhaps she believes that it’ll sell the lie if she’s confident...  and stubborn as ever,   “i’m fine.  it’s a scratch,”

[cptjeanluc]

@dannsa-dotair asked:

❛ i am deathly afraid of almosts. ❜

Truthfully, Jean Luc hadn't looked away from Beverly in quite some time, but that admission renewed his attention. They were trapped, shuttle craft damaged, and while rescue was likely on the way, it would be hours yet. This was, he supposed, exactly the right sort of time for this sort of conversation.

"More afraid of almosts than of regrets?" Jean Luc had often struggled with the opposite problem.

[empathicstars]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

Favourite Colour: Peachy pink!

Currently Reading: I’m reading Kaguya-sama: Love is War, Spy x Family, Akame ga Kill, and a few others, right now! 

Last Song: This is the song that’s stuck in my head right now, but I think the last song I actually listened to was “Little Love” by James Smith. 

Last Series: Uhhhhhhh... Star Wars, maybe? Unless Love is Blind counts as a series. 

Last Movie: Love, Simon.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet!

Currently working on: Doing replies, figuring out packing for my move, dyeing my hair, working on a little tiny book! 

tagged by: @shinebrightsweetdove

tagging: @sybck @vuulpecula @dannsa-dotair @constable @moonshadowed @vulcnlogic @fathertofatality @siennabook @fyrewalks 

[colnerys]

𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝑹𝑪.

romance/friendship arc

you started this story a little hard, or awkward, or stubborn. that's okay. it's harder than it should be to admit, but what you really want is love. that's what your story is all about - not just the act of loving, but the allowance of it. the confession that you do not want to fight or bleed or save the world, but to simply feel the way two hands fit so easily together. you will have two chairs and a table and you will shut your blinds, and you will say the word love without faltering. this is a happy ending, and you do not need to feel guilty. it hurts our hands to fight - never to hold.

tagged by: @jurati​ ( hi i love u)

tagging: @zeveth​ / @constablegoo​ , @elencr​, @ltcmdrdax​ / @trustschaos​, @dannsa-dotair​, @fakesmade​, @qknows​ / @veryeighties​, @misereternal​ honestly steal it and say i tagged u 

[alyafae-a]

"You don't have to keep it all in."  Beverly ( @dannsa-dotair​ ) assures him but René has been so used to keep things to himself, keep it private. Even with his family.     . . .     But there are certain things, and he knows this is one of those things, that are meant to be shared in order to deal with them. And while he trusts his father, he would only ever willingly share this with his mother.    “ Oui, I know. ”    His accent is still a little thick, but it is actually something he is proud of. Thinks it gives a nice touch to his voice. Besides, he spoke French far more than he would speak Federation Standard. 

“ There is something I could use some help with. ”    And he hates to admit it, because this is something he should be good ( better ) at. Surely, his mother would be able to help him, though. She’s always had advice when he or Lucille were in need.    “ I’ve been thinking about this for some weeks now and I am stuck. ”    He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his seat.    “ A proposal. But I can’t figure out what I should do. If I should keep it simple or make a big deal out of it. I could use some help. ”

[fatalelity]

sometimes when the uniform comes off & synthehol is consumed,  it’s as if the failsafe in her brain — preventing her from being an utter fool — shuts down.  a night with a klingon man & woman whilst thrilling,  is also a decision that she’s come to regret more than that one alcohol induced hangover she had when she was a first year cadet.  thankfully, it’s early enough that no one is going over to the sickbay for their check ups —— and knowing beverly, she’s most likely fixated on some project or asleep at her desk. 

the moment she hears the hissing of the doors, she finds a look of regret creeping onto her face. addison is by no means a prude,  but 0500 hours is a little too early to explain her little escapade to anyone. but she needs that hypospray,  oh she needs that dermal regenerator from that bite on her back. 

“   okay, before we play fifty questions — i ... i think i dislocated my left shoulder a-and pulled some muscles ... also i’m bleeding on the back & i can’t reach it so ...   ”

@dannsa-dotair