Rules | Starter prompts | or use this for a starter anytime
Muses: Kang | Kor | Koloth | Mara

ellievsbear
Acquired Stardust

JBB: An Artblog!

Origami Around

blake kathryn
Misplaced Lens Cap

pixel skylines
styofa doing anything

Kiana Khansmith
RMH

Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć
almost home

oozey mess
šŖ¼
One Nice Bug Per Day

#extradirty
wallacepolsom
Xuebing Du
seen from Canada
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seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia

seen from Lithuania
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from Norway

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@daharmasters
Rules | Starter prompts | or use this for a starter anytime
Muses: Kang | Kor | Koloth | Mara

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pa'Daq jItatlh'egh jajvam. nuqneH.
Starter call
I'm still here but it looks like all my threads have stalled so for the past few weeks I have nothing to reply to
it's totally cool, I understand folks are busy and stuff and absolutely don't want anyone to feel bad... but I would love to continue writing!
So, starter call. Let me know which muse you want - Kang, Kor, Koloth or Mara
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā If there was an emptiness to Spockās expression, it mutates, however subtly. His eyes become alight, glimmering something akin to amusement until he can blink it away. Shedding his reservation in an effort to precipitate illusions of conflict could constitute as deception. But it is not precisely untrue ā as they say, whisper and wind into reality, Vulcans do not lie ā Spock is presumably no exception to this belief. His humanity makes for interesting combinations of tact, and in truth, he would be remiss to claim he were not opportunistic when logic prevails it. An eyebrow rises, ā Should I be victim, it is only to this abomination this establishment labels a mead. ā
Spock pushes his cup away, lets the liquid slosh over the sides and splash the table. The alcoholic compound of these beverages has no effect on his physiology. Still, it offers an interesting path in passing the time, ā If you intend to continue usurping my time, the honorable gesture would be to purchase the next round. ā
@daharmasters
Kang did something he rarely did. He laughed.
"You accuse me of usurping your time, yet you choose to remain and have it usurped. I must conclude that you enjoy it, or at least find some value in it. It would be illogical for you to sit here otherwise. Very well!" He rose. "So be it," he said. He went to the bar.
He returned with two goblets and thunked them on the table. "I am Kang," he said. "Son of Kānaiah." He nodded to the Vulcan as an invitation to introduce himself.
@fasciinating
starter call. / accepting.
tales of dax and the former host's excursions with the klingons have been burned into the major's mind.Ā Ā it feels as if decades have passed since the naive, almost tenderhearted jadzia came to her seeking what felt like guidance.Ā Ā now,Ā deep into this war those hands once clean of blood is, too, stained by the perished lives of many.Ā Ā
typically,Ā sisko would be overseeing this occasion ā his care towards dax is plain as day.Ā Ā yet,Ā here she stands greeting the now widowĀ of kang.Ā
āĀ @daharmasters ,Ā welcome aboard deep space 9.Ā Ā ā
@colnerys
Mara stepped onto the station, her head held high, her countenance cold. If not for her long service record, no one could have guessed she was a hundred and forty nine.
As a former scientist of the Klingon Defence Force, her presence had been requested in connection with the Klingon/Federation war. Starfleet thought Gowron a changeling. Mara's House opposed Gowron's; that made her the ideal person to assist with the investigations. She would require the major to supply her with all information and evidence, and a laboratory in which to analyse it.
She also knew that Starfleet likely distrusted her.
She looked Major Kira up and down and frowned icily at her. She had read the major's record and considered her to be a fine officer and a woman of honour. It remained to be seen whether they would work well together professionally.
"Major," she nodded. "Show me to my place of work."

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The Klingonās conjecture was impeccable; the android had been oblivious to the drone approaching him from the rear, for all his scrutiny was plastered to the female Borg, who was aiming a diabolical contraption at him. The device served as an extension of her mechanical arm, which had a phaser of some sort integrated into the duranium casing that swaddled the partially amputated limb. A carbuncle dot, steady in its resolve, settled on Dataās chest. Target locked. The hollow shaft in the apparatus developed a moderate accumulation of luminosity from a source Data was unable to discern, but his positronic brain was hypothesising, at high computational speeds, and all theories entailed the same harrowing conclusion: annihilation. His most logical inference was that some sort of power build-up was preparing the weaponised arm to discharge a burst of energy equal to the highest kill setting on their phasers... And since he was extrapolating this on the basis of inconclusive data, it was feasible to assume that whatever substance would be ejected by the Borg could, in fact, incapacitate him.
However, the tussling sounds behind him temporarily sidetracked his focus. He span around just in time to witness another Borg slumping to the floor as his cognitive functions were terminated by the Klingon blade protruding from his pale cranium. Time was not something he had in abundance and therefore his exhibition of gratitude for the Klingon would have to be postponed until a more opportune occasion. His unanticipated movement, to ascertain what was transpiring outside his peripheral vision, coincided with the other Borg firing the electronic device; the energy blast it expelled whizzed past, his tactile sensors registered the blistering temperature, and missing his shoulder by no more than a centimetre. Utilising the confusion to his advantage, the android spurted forward, an impetuous haze of yellow in his vehement aspiration to neutralise the enemy and discontinue their egregious endeavours.
Without hesitation, he dislocated her knee, forcing her to the ground, and applied pressure to her exposed neck, initiating a Vulcan nerve pinch that would render her unconscious for, approximately, an hour. When she, too, dropped to the ground in a pile comprised of dishevelled mechanisms and enhanced human skin, Data perceived the alarmed vocalisation of his ally. His yellow eyes, ablaze with purpose and determination, snapped up at the source that provoked his comradeās trepidation, and within a nanosecond, the Commander had computed his itinerary and careened toward the juveniles. He accelerated, vaulted over a glass counter display at dangerous velocities, and reached his destination in 4.7 seconds. Unfortunately, the Klingonās exclamation had apprised the Borg of their incoming assailant, and swivelled around to parry Dataās punch, circumventing a lethal blow. Subsequently, they planted their unoccupied first in his abdomen where they encountered only his indestructible duranium carapace. This miscalculation permitted him to grasp his flummoxed opponentās ocular prosthetic with his left hand, securing his slender fingers behind the tubes and mechanisms.
āAvert your gaze!ā he addressed the horrified children huddled in the corner, they spectated, their miens distorted, marred by a frame of sheer terror. āDo it. Now!ā he added, an approximated tone of authority accompanied by an undercurrent that did not tolerate insubordination audible in his voice. They obeyed.
The cue he required and which impelled him to proceed with his plans. He shoved the Borgās cranial unit sideways, the human portion of their head collided forcibly with the wall, the impact of which decimated their skull, blood or hydraulic substances erupting from the fissures in their face and proceeded to trail down their cheek in squiggly lines, like rain on a windowpane. He discarded the deceased Borg to the floor; the assessment of the childrenās physical integrity was his priority now.
However, his assessment eventuated in an impasse when the Klingonās cry for assistance lacerated the tumultuous atmosphere. The inflection that emphasised distress spurred the android to provide his aid. The Borg was a giant compared to Dataās mere 1.80 metres, but that did not deter him; with mathematical precision, he jumped onto his opponentās back, bundled his muscular neck with his left arm, and held him in headlock, impeding his oxygen supply and trying to steer the drone away from his compatriot.
āGo!ā
The Starfleet officer's swift action enabled Kang to rise to his feet. The officer had the drone in a headlock, so Kang let him deal with the drone however he saw fit. It was the last drone; all the others had been incapacitated or killed.
Once the last drone had been neutralised, Kang glanced around. What had once been a quaint little jewellery store had reduced to a sea of rubble and broken glass, decorated with scattered crystals and ornaments, blood, and dismembered cybernetic parts. The children and the old couple huddled into the corners and quaked with fear. The Ferengi businessmen had secured themselves under a table. The shopkeeper was under another table.
"Get up," Kang urged them. "There may be more. If you wish to stay and loot the wreckage you will die," he added when he noticed one of the Ferengi eyeing some scattered saphires.
He turned to the Starfleet officer. He had noted the man's impressive strength and incredible athletic prowess. He hadn't even broken a sweat. If they survived this, he would congratulate him on a battle well fought - but later. "We must ascertain if there are drones elsewhere on the station," he said. "Unless there is something they want here, it's unlikely they would target this shop specifically."
He waded through the wreckage and retrieved his d'k tahg and mek'leth. He holstered them. Assuming the Starfleet officer would want to check over the civilians, Kang took it upon himself to investigate their situation. He stepped through the store's doorway and looked up and down the corridor. He saw no Borg, nor people of any kind. The lights in the corridor flickered, which indicated perhaps a struggle to gain access to the station's operational controls, or alternatively damaged power generators or circuitry.
He stepped up to a door opposite the gift shop. The sign on the door identified it as an office, but the door wouldn't open. Kang didn't know whether that was because it was locked or because the doors no longer worked. He tried two more doors and they also failed to open. He glanced behind him; the gift shop door remained open because the rubble on the floor prevented it from closing.
He inhaled deeply and smelt the acrid odours of blood and metal in the air. From the far end of the corridor came the telltale scent of smoke tinged with chemicals. Something had detonated or exploded.
He stepped back into the gift shop and addressed his comrade. "Systems in the corridor are damaged. If operational controls have been sabotaged, life support may have shut down. We should go to the station's operations section and access the systems, but I suspect that location would be the Borg's first target. If they have secured it then they have control of the entire station." He glanced at the terrified civilians. "I do not know how to ensure the safety of these people. Perhaps the best option would be to find an empty room and seal them inside until we know more about our situation. Have you checked whether any have been assimilated?"
@my-timing-is-digital
Might make a blog for Hemmer once I get up to speed on Strange New Worlds...
I KNOW AND I DON'T CARE
I'll probably just repurpose my Shran blog to make it Shran and Hemmer haha
he got me at abracadabra, he's a legend
Might make a blog for Hemmer once I get up to speed on Strange New Worlds...
I KNOW AND I DON'T CARE
Are notifications working now or not?
Can you let me know if you replied to me as I'm not sure I'm getting notifications?
trying to avoid looking at my dash right now, as i'm just watching strange new worlds for the first time and don't want it spoilt - and as it's been out for a little bit i wouldn't expect folks to censor their spoilers at this point
but, BUT, i'm like, holy crap i think i have a muse for one of the characters??? i'll see when i learn more about him... so anyway i stupidly went and googled him and thus spoiled the show for myself. thought i'd be safe just looking up a general bio. didn't know i would see that on the first page i look at.

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They have come to an impasse. Spock does not appreciate what the nature of it has so quickly become ā being met with vague if equal caution despite the logic inside those actions, the same queries ā the who and what and why ā thrown back in his face. There is something here ā luring outsiders with its strength, an unquantifiable being too powerful to ignore ā and it would seem, that both parties are aware of its presence. It is only for what purpose the other group seeks the entity that he does not know. That knowledge is perhaps the most unsettling, encouraging Spock to retain the will with which he stands tall, unflinching before his potential allies or enemies.
ā Starfleet is renowned for its mission to explore. ā A careful but prominent truth. Much of the away team on the surface is of Spockās own staff; a handful of science blue uniforms are scattered among the field. ā With no known data pertaining to this world, we are merely exacting upon that endeavor. Our survey is scientific. ā Spock watches her closely, ā And you, madam, have failed to answer my question. ā
"I am under no obligation to answer your questions," Mara replied.
At that point, one of her subordinates - a junior officer of about sixteen years, and this was his first mission - trotted out of the trees, his scanner held before him. "Commander!" he called breathlessly. "We detected a massive surge of energy from the alien entity... and all the trees around the location suddenly died! I cannot explain it!" He read the coordinates off his scanner.
"Silence!" Mara barked, but the damage was done. The officer glanced at the Vulcan, and then at his boots.
Mara turned her attention back to the Vulcan. "Well," she said, "now you know why we're here, and you also know that the entity is dangerous. Who can tell what else it is capable of? I suggest you leave, and let us deal with this threat."
His little expedition was overexerting his circuitry. Perhaps he had underestimated his objective to find a suitable present for Jenna DāSora; he had no prior experience with the preliminary stages of a romantic relationship, and despite his list, comprised of a comprehensive enumeration pertaining to Jennaās likes, dislikes, preferences, and miscellaneous elements that did or did not elicit vehement emotional responses, he could not determine what present would be appropriate to give her... Ever since she had gifted him the transparent artwork, he had intended to reciprocate the gesture, but the replicators could not furnish him with an object or item that sparked his interest, that enthused him. In his mind, the gift had to be special, memorable. She should be able to associate it with him, with their relationship.
Perfumes, make-up, wellness toiletries, regular toiletries, clothing, handcrafted statues, a vast collection of replicas and genuine artefacts emanating from different worlds, flowers, sweet, savoury, and spicy delicacies, different kinds of beverages consisting of both syntheholic as well as alcoholic compounds, or neither, nifty gadgets, accessories of every kind, organic paintings, geometric paintings, paintings claiming to represent recognisable objects, but Data was unable to consolidate these claims, even after a 2-minute long analysis. The assortment to choose from was, simply put, too expansive, too vast. Fortunately, the Enterprise was docked for repairs, and the crew had been granted permission to seek entertainment and relaxation on the Starbase B'Muvo-74 until all hull ruptures were sealed. The process could take several hours, which provided him sufficient time to subject every shop to his scrutiny and decide on what kind of item to procure for Jenna.
After an informative conversation with a female shop owner, who had recommended he should pay a visit to the jewellery store across the mall, the android strolled past the coffeeshops and restaurants to his new destination. The woman had been most obliging in her endeavour to counsel him on this matter. In addition to her recommendation, she had also given him the advice that the piece of jewellery should symbolise something, something that was relevant or significant to their relationship. A challenge, but his resolution was unwavering.
The shop was mesmerising; gems and precious metals were scintillating under the artificial lights of their display cases, and the ambience in the shop was tranquil, wrapped up in an ethereal curtain of exquisite beauty. However, the serenity was barbarically terminated by a cacophony of glass shattering to smithereens and the shrieks of terror resonating among the pupils. Immediately, Data pivoted around his axis to assess the source responsible for the consternation āøŗ the Borg... He squared his shoulders and assumed a defensive stance, prepared to protect the defenceless āøŗ just as his programming dictated. The glance he traded with the Klingon conveyed more information than words ever could; the integrity of the others was their responsibility now.
Phasers were prohibited on the starbase, and therefore, he would have to engage in hand-to-hand combat. Swiftly, he initiated his martial arts subroutine. Although he was familiar with the Borgās lethargic locomotion, and could easily neutralise them without the subroutine operating in the background, it was imperative he preserved the element of surprise in order to prevent them from extrapolating and adjusting to his next moves. The alternation between martial arts and improvisation, plus his exceptional physical strength automatically placed him in an advantageous position. Then, he advanced, computing his next course of action meticulously.
Ā Ā Ā āDo not let them touch you!ā he modulated his voice to be heard over the frantic screams and persistent mantra the Borg were reiterating. Resistance is futile... He tapped his combadge while he dodged a Borg arm that lashed out at him, quickly informing the Enterprise of their precarious circumstances. āData to Enterprise. We haveā āøŗ he straightened from his ducking position and palm punched the Borg on the chin, sending him backward āøŗ āengaged the Borg. Iā āøŗ he blocked another hand from grappling at his chest and with the adroitness of a machine, twisted and tore the mechanical arm clean off āøŗ ārepeat: we have engaged the Borg. Reinforcements wouldā āøŗ the Borg with the one remaining arm tried to retaliate, but Data was quicker and kicked him forcefully in the chest, causing his opponent to tumble into another display, a cascade of glass raining down on the unconscious drone as he sagged to the ground āøŗ ābe appreciated.ā
Ā Ā Ā Unfortunately, he only received static in return āøŗ communication inhibitors... Clever, but he could take on a dozen more Borg, but if the numbers transcended the fifties, it could prove to be a challenge; he might be a synthetically devised lifeform, but that quality was not entirely synonymous with being indestructible...
The call of war soared in Kang's blood. There was more at stake here than just their lives, than even the lives of these innocents. Their individuality, their sense of self, their very souls, hung on the outcome of this battle. If he and his single comrade failed here, then a fate far worse than death awaited them.
Kang leapt forward and ducked under a weaponised Borg arm. He rose and sliced his mek'leth through the drone's exposed neck.
He opened his communicator and hailed his ship.
"tengchaHDaq yot Borg! nuH yI'uch! yIQaw'rup!"
(The Borg have invaded! Lock on weapons and prepare to destroy!)
Static noise answered him. A jamming signal?
Another drone came at him. He backstepped right into a display containing a fist-sized precious diamond. He grabbed the diamond and jammed it into the drone. It penetrated the drone's armour and pierced his heart.
The sound of smashing glass reverberated around the room. Kang glanced towards the Starfleet officer, who defended himself well; he appeared to have dealt with a number of drones. Another drone came up behind the officer and stuck out his arm as if preparing to assimilate. Kang doubted the officer had seen him so he threw his mek'leth into the drone's skull. The drone staggered and fell to the floor.
But while the two of them had engaged the leading drones, another had made his way around the edge of the room to reach the children. The children had squeezed themselves down between two display cabinets, but they'd gone back as far as they could go and had effectively blocked off their own escape routes. The Starfleet officer was closer to them than Kang was. "Lieutenant!" Kang yelled and nodded his head at the drone.
Then he spied another child who had separated from the others and was on the floor, injured. Another drone made towards him. Kang's heart beat hard. He sprung at the drone and headbutted him in the face. The drone faltered. Kang reached for his d'k tahg (knife) and thrust it at the drone's face, but the drone easily swiped his hand out of the way, sending shockwaves all through the bones of his arm. He tried again, this time aiming for the throat, but he was still reeling from the impact and his enemy knocked the knife from his hand. And all of Kang's training and experience could not combat the drone's superior weight and brute cybernetically-enhanced strength. The drone followed up to move with a forceful shove and the sheer power of it toppled Kang to the floor.
Today was not a good day to die. Not when doing so meant the capture of innocent civilians - innocent children - their individuality erased so they could be turned into slaves to enact the will of the Borg. "Lieutenant!" he hollered for help as he tried to scramble to his feet.
of all the people who could have been on the other side of the door, an old klingon is not what worf expected. defensive, his arms fold across his chest while he straightens to his full height. after a roll of his eyes, a scowl takes over his expression.
"an astute observation. who are you and what do you want with jadzia?"
Kang responded with a long cold glare that lasted several seconds. "One does not need a reason to visit an old friend," he stated. "I hear a rumour she is planning to marry, or perhaps she already has," he shrugged. "I was passing, so it seemed only fitting to meet to find out whether it is true."
"I am Kang," he introduced himself. "Son of Kānaiah."
He looked the stranger up and down, noting his uniform with the emblems of his people laid over the top. "I did not know that there were Klingons in Starfleet."
Send meĀ Ā ā āļøĀ āĀ Ā for my muse to defend yours from an attack.Ā
your muse has just arrived on my museās doorstep, disheveled, cold, hungry, and in need of helpā¦Ā Ā Ā sendĀ Ā ā in need āĀ Ā Ā for my museās reaction to opening their door and seeing your muse in that state.Ā
send meĀ Ā ā need reverseĀ āĀ Ā for the roles to be reversed

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Try your hardest to make my muse cry, by any means.
kang ( @daharmastersā )
Kang had taken the only available seat in the Replimat and had resolved to ignore the tableās other occupant. She seemed focused on her book, which suited Kang well; he had his own material to read. He did so while he quietly sipped his tea.
At her utterance, he glanced up.
He had limited experience with humans but he thought he recognised a request for assistance. So he snatched the PADD out of her hands and looked at it. He wasnāt familiar with the device either, but he jabbed at its buttons experimentally. It turned out to be the wrong button; now the text size had increased by 2000%.
He dropped the device on the table. āIt seems to be broken,ā he said.
Ā“ d . Ā ā¶ āā Ā Ā Ā jumping slightly as the P.A.D.D disappeared from her handsĀ ,Ā ellie looks upĀ ,Ā before sinking further into her seat as the look on the klingonās face made her pause.Ā she was being rather loud and now she was blushing.Ā watching as the device drops down to the tableĀ ,Ā ellie turns her head to look back up at the man.Ā āĀ oh.Ā āĀ was all she saidĀ ,Ā looking back down at the P.A.D.D.Ā āĀ rightĀ -Ā āĀ damnĀ ,Ā she needed that.Ā āĀ would you uh ā¦Ā āĀ she stumbles over her words.Ā sheās never usually not here without either major kira or ben.Ā āĀ would you know to fix it ?Ā or know who might be able tooĀ ?Ā ā
"No," Kang said with finality. "Save your efforts. Get a new one."
He took his teapot and poured himself another cup. He spared a moment to savour the sweet spicy aroma of rosehip and cinnamon. As he sipped, he observed the stranger over the rim of his cup. Her nervous stammer and the way her eyes flitted to her broken device and back again made him think she was flustered. "Are you upset about that thing?" he queried. "What was so important about it? What were you reading?"
@elencr