#ensiignchekov

[elencr]

´ ･ .  ✶ ━━      “  you didn’t have to come down with me.  ”  hands reach up to fix the beanie that rests on top of her head.  the planet was chilly  -  snow fell lightly around them and littered the ground.  gaze lingers on pavel  ,  who was a couple of feet ahead of her  ,  before they fall back to the stall next to her.  ellie enjoyed visiting alien markets  -  not only for ingredients that she could use for meals  ,  but always meeting new people.  “  but i’m glad you did.  ”  cheeks are flushed pink.  ellie will blame the frosty air if its mentioned.

╰   ––––––– ✧   @ensnchekov​​    :      liked      ❨      for a starter.     ❩˙

[noblehcart]

ensiignchekov

kirk sending a message to the neva like 'where's my navigator' and gleb's just like 'my navigator now, kid.'

gleb vc : right well.... i’m invoking starfleet code: finders keepers. he’s ours now. my navigator. i’m adopting him.

[zeveth]

( @ensiignchekov | continued .

"I might ask you the same thing," she snarls, as if she isn't the one intruding on a starship out of her time, or a completely foreign species to this sector, hailing from an empire half the galaxy away; a future enemy, no less, shielding her eyes from the unwelcome, sudden light as if offended such a thing could ever have been installed here for its usual diurnal inhabitants in the first place.

Humans.

She shakes herself, hastily snapping on a pair of dark-shaded lenses and straightening to proper composure with a sigh.

"I-- I must apologise," she grumbles. "You startled me, that is all. And I'm not accustomed to bright lights like these." She waves a hand and then seems to relax, slightly smug. "Ah. You're an ensign, aren't you?"

Yes. She can handle an ensign. She can handle an admiral, for that matter. She holds out a practiced hand, straight and pointed, to offer greeting.

"My name is Zeveth. I've been sent here from the future to warn you against diplomatic relations with the K'Vaelians." She tries to grin in a friendly way, flashing teeth. "Unless I've accidentally landed aboard the wrong ship, you're all about to make a very large and unfortunate mistake."

[doctordonovan]

she hated vulcan.  it's not an acceptable answer, it's not one most people would understand:  the planet itself,  the time she spent there,  none of it ever felt right.  these days she understands the bitter reality that instinct  ( that buried memories ) had been whispering to her  &&  some parts of her wish it wasn't the case.   truths can never be properly reburried:  and they linger like glass beneath her skin,  painful and raw.  one of these days  -  probably sooner than later  -   maeve will need to remove herself from ship to minimise the damage inflicted.

caring is always a mistake,   yet here she is,   once again falling into old habits and caring.

❝ I'm sure she would have been incredibly proud.   it's quite the achievement. I was more the type in the academy to just keep myself out of everyone's way. ❞ grief is a hard thing for all,  it's part of living, a part that none of them have any say in.  running calms her,  and out here it will likely be the difference between life and death in too many situations.

but how can she answer?   they're already past the point of her revealing more than she wishes to,  more than will do her any good.  if she keeps herself vague she will both do less harm if the truth comes out and less harm if she's amongst the next to be lost to circumstances.

in the end, there's only really one possible answer.  ❝ I've never been the kind to miss places.  I've lived in too many. ❞  none of them have ever been a home to her and few have been gentle.  all so determined to break her into something useful rather than letting her be herself in any kind of way.  ( whether that was for the best, or not, is pointless to linger on. )  ❝ sometimes I miss how things felt simpler back then. ❞

yet that isn't missing the place,   it isn't even missing the person she thought she was.

❝ vulcan's very quiet.  I don't... I don't do great in the quiet. ❞   her head is too loud,  it leaves her with only exhaustion.  ❝ plus have you tried running in sand?   horrid.  I prefer planets with woods at the very least. ❞

Sometimes, there are days where Pavel wishes he could turn back time, find the moment where things started to spiral and change it all so he could have had more time with the woman he knows he loved, but never really got to know.

Maybe that would change the entire course of his life. Maybe he would have waited to join Starfleet until he was a little older, the same age as the rest of his classmates at the time. Maybe he would not have taken the interim posting on the Hope and found himself lost, unfathomable lightyears away from home.

Or, maybe, he would have done it all the same, only there would still be a home in Taganrog waiting for him, full of light and love. There would be parents worrying over the fate of their son when he disappeared without a trace on what should have been a quick, routine mission, there would be—

But that is the thing about timelines and choices—they are wholly unpredictable and incredibly temperamental. Pavel simply isn’t willing, at this point, to change everything he’s learned up at this point.

“No, not exactly. When she was feeling well enough, we would go on walks. There’s a very old fountain in October Square she used to love. I didn’t really start running until I left to study in Moscow. If she lived longer, I would’ve liked to. She could have told me more about herself when we stopped to rest after long runs.” A pause. “I think she would have been pleased to find out her son won the Academy marathon.”

Ten years later, he can still picture the way she’d smile proudly at her son.

“I cannot do stillness. Especially if there are a lot of things on my mind.” He’s already been called out for tapping his foot on the bridge when nothing particularly interesting is happening, or rolling his stylus in-between his fingers just to give his body something to do.

He smiles again. “I think I drove the professors at the Academy mad. I would either ask too many questions, or I would point out if something was wrong. I imagine that played a part in their review of my Kobayashi Maru performance.”

With some of the comments they made, his professors had to be enjoying it even a little bit.

“Do you ever miss the sands of Vulcan?”

[doctordonovan]

birdie rambles;  thanks to @ensiignchekov​ I’m now stuck crying about how maeve is so used to people reacting badly to her being romulan  -  them truly holding it against her as if she’s a different person now  -  to the point where she reacts more naturally to anger than people who care for her anyway?

like...   she truly has no idea how to process people going ‘that’s okay,  you’re still you’  but if you snap or break her heart she just calmly shuts down and removes herself from the situation best she can?? 

[elencr]

ₓ ˚ .   ୭   ˚ ○ ◦ ˚    ―      ㅤ‘ JENNA MARBLES. ’   | ACCEPTING !                                                                               ❛      Don’t expose me like this.      ❜

* .  ♡              standing with her hands on her hips  ,  ellie stares down at @ensiignchekov​  ,  who was sat in the middle of the table.  eyes narrow before her hand is held out towards him.  “  i can and i will.  ”  she’s teasing of course  ,  everyone knew that they would never argue and in the end were finding their exchange rather humorous.  “  pavel come on  ,  ”  she groans stamping her foot like a child.  “  gimmie my phone back.  ”

[noblehcart]

excuse us as gleb is busy signing the space adoption papers for chekov ok

[noblehcart]

❛ But you understand, don’t you? ❜ (also for either Liesel, Stefan, Inej, or Gleb!)

@ensiignchekov

"Of course I do." How could he not understand that inkling of belonging. That distinct sense of community that one found just with those raised with the same beliefs, traditions and expectations. It was also easy to understand Chekov's situation- more than easy. It had once been him a long time ago in a different era. When he was a student dreaming of being the captain he was today. It made him feel old to think that the boy in front of him was possibly a baby at that time.

"I was one of the youngest in my classes at Starfleet during my time there. One of the very few Russians there too." The memory was still fresh in his mind. Everything was so different and exciting. He looked forward to every day of classes till suddenly he found himself in an atrium surrounded by classmates and he felt entirely alone. People he had laughed, and studied with now just felt like strangers in the face of missing home. "Its so easy to get lost in the chaos of all the students and officers and forget who you are, to get homesick for some hot tea and hearing your mother scold you for not eating enough."

Pavel Chekov was so young to be traveling the breadth of space and he could only imagine how his family felt about that. "The Neva is glad to have you onboard, Mr. Chekov, for your skills and talents; but, I know many of the bridge officers are glad to have you bring another piece of home to our ship, Pavel."

[noblehcart]

❛ Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing. ❜ (for Gleb, Inej, Liesel, or Stefan!)

@ensiignchekov

"And yet somehow bad luck also has the worst timing." She did try to leave superstitions behind on her home planet. Much of it was easy to let go of in the face of the future ahead onboard a star ship with all its technology, advancement and intermingling of cultures and species. Even so she remembered her mother smoothing over her hair into a neat braid before send off to remind her not to lose faith in their believes. Two things can be true; don't forget that. A small niche was left in her heart for the wives-tales and superstitions. Including that of bad luck.

"Tell me how your people ward off bad luck, Pavel. What is it that 'russians' do?" Was the curious ask as she leaned in a bit closer to the other. As two of the youngest on board she felt far more relaxed around the ensign than with anyone else. She knew her position was unique as part of a trial liaison with her world. "On my planet we have reliefs- or charms we wear to keep it at bay. Some hang fruit in our homes and stores to ward off evil."

[ensiignchekov]

" Пускай и счастие и муки свой горький положили след, но в страстной буре, в долгой скуке — я не утратил прежний свет. "

#ENSIIGNCHEKOV ⸺ indie roleplay blog for Pavel A. Chekov of the Alternate Original Series. 25+, multifandom/crossover/AU friendly, canon & OC friendly. Canon inspired by '09, ST:ID, novels, and comics.

[ensiignchekov]

#ENSIIGNCHEKOV — 25+, indie roleplay blog for Pavel A. Chekov of the Kelvinverse / Alternate Original Series. Open to alternate universes, Prime timeline shenanigans, and much more. Canon and OC friendly.

My portrayal of Pavel pulls from comics, canon, novels, and is quite (mainly) headcanon based. There's really not a lot of Chekov stuff to work with. Beyond as a film and series of events is entirely ignored. Main timeline occurs after the Khan incident and into the 5YM.

Unless plotted otherwise in a particular verse or a thread takes place during the events of either '09, STID, or Academy years, I write Pavel at about 19-20 years old, as he would be towards the beginning of the 5YM.

GOOGLE DOC.

[noblehcart]

ensiignchekov​:

It is a different kind of belonging, this, that he’s coming to know and cradle between his ribs the longer he spends on the Neva. He is still new compared to the rest of the crew, bonded by time, experience, and country, but they endeavour to slot him in easily and effortlessly, another Russian added to the ranks.

In a way, it’s a comfort being on a ship with people who come from similar backgrounds, who speak the same native tongue as he, and though they may not be the crew of the Enterprise, he still finds it comfortable here. More comfortable than those few-and-far-between times back on Earth, where his body tells him to return to Russia, though there’s nothing really left there for him now.

There, he’s just another kid. People don’t see the weight of his uniform, the way it has straightened his spine and broadened his shoulders over the few quick years since his first posting to the Enterprise, nor do they see the way wisdom mingles with youthful cheer and optimism he can’t shake.

He has always been odd. Too old for someone so young, yet too young to have half the knowledge and insight he does.

Pavel nods and locks eyes with Vaganov. “When I studied, I didn’t meet many other Russians in the Academy. Many of them tend to study at the conservatory in Star City instead.” He might have as well if things in his life played out differently; if the call of Starfleet and exploring the cosmos hadn’t been a siren’s song that he’d heard when he was barely six, looking up at the stars.

“But the few who came to the Academy, they were all at least four years older than me.” Nobody likes being shown up by a child. “My mom likely would have scolded me for always working so late. She would have said I didn’t need to do all this extra research on top of my studies.”

He likely would have said that he did need to. Maybe she would have argued with him. Maybe they would have fought and then later made up, and it would have been an endless cycle throughout his Academy years.

Maybe.

“I’m happy to be here, sir.” Hearing his name, Pavel, pulls a smile out of him. “The bridge crew has certainly been making me feel welcome. I’m not used to being able to say something without needing to explain.”

"The Academy can make or break a person, especially being so far from home. I almost considered quitting and going to the conservatory myself, but I can be a bit stubborn. I was lucky enough to have our first officer as a friend to help me get through it." And it had been tremendously far in every aspect one can be. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. The ache he carried to return home to see his parents...to his mother, especially after his father's death when he was just younger than the ensign before him. But the two men both knew that Russia held nothing for them, not what they really wanted. Adventure. Travel. The expanse of space ahead of them.

It was almost equally lonely staring out at that dark screen littered with starlight points if it wasn't for the chatter of spoken russian around him. It helped that Lt. Essen was always cracking some terrible joke like terribly crude if not adored uncle that seemed a staple in every family or how Private Ivanov brought a sense of warmth to the bridge with her insight. First Officer Stefan Ivanov tended to be the firmer hand on board, but he often brought a sense oversight of a protective brother. There was one other boy on board who just might know exactly what it was Mr. Chekov was going through and that was the younger ensign Patya Tasarov.

There was plenty of room for Pavel Chekov's optimism, a much needed breath of air from the sometimes stoic air that could seep in. Dostoyevsky themes did not need to find a place onboard his ship.

"Ah thoroughness is something I very much like to hear." He laughed warmly before clapping a hand on his shoulder. Something told him that Pavel Chekov was just exactly what the Neva needed as of late and he'd be lying if he didn't admit that it warmed his chest to have the young man on board. It was wide universe out there and he prided himself on his ship's community.

"I have a lax policy on the bridge about Federation Standard. We all prefer russian conversationally and use Standard on official matters and communications. Feel absolutely free to switch between whichever suits you though." Was the warm addition before his hand dropped to the side. "Now, I'm hosting an officers dinner tomorrow night in my quarters and I'd like for you to attend. You've met and worked a bit with everyone by now, but I generally like to host one for the new bridge members that have come and gone. If you have plans on board with others that's perfectly fine as well if you can't make it."