#ak-spra

It’s a quiet, peaceful night in Metropolis, for once. Only a few petty squabbles and thefts to thwart so far. But of course, someone’s determined to cause trouble. Floating high above the tallest skyscrapers, Clark lets his hearing expand, until the sounds of the entire city fills his head. Sorting through all the noises is easier than it used to be, but still takes a lot of focus.

After a minute, one sound in particular catches his notice. “Hey, roach!” That phrase has never preceded anything good. Clark turns his head to observe the scene from up high, debating if he should intervene.

A man is making his way down a dark, deserted alley. Several yards behind him, a group pours into the narrow space, all sneering nastily at him -- Children of Liberty, if Clark had to guess. Lately they’ve been spreading out from National City like a cancer. No one has a gun, thankfully, but a few are wielding baseball bats and crowbars, and seem a little too eager to use them.

One man seems to be leading this gang. He storms right up to the stranger and yanks the cap off his head, revealing pointed ears that are definitely not human. “I knew it! Nothing but a filthy roach.”

Some echoes of agreement spring up from the people behind him, and one with a bat steps menacingly closer. “This planet would be better off without the lot of you.”

There is no universe in which this ends well. Some alien refugees are able to defend themselves, sure, but they shouldn’t have to. So Clark sets his sights on the alley and is there in a blur, landing behind the group near silently.

Leonard’s no stranger to a good, cleansing rain. He’d grown up knowing just by looking at the sky whether or not they’d be getting a storm that particular day, and by adulthood could estimate the hour it would start coming down. Home is lush and green, smelling of perpetually damp earth. 

San Francisco, not so much.

It’s a beautiful, bustling city, but refuge is to be found inside rather than out, and today is certainly meant for escape the thick, heavy clouds that have rolled in over the city, and torrential downpour that had accompanied them. Keeping warm enough for his liking is a challenge, not least of all owing to his distinct lack of extensive wardrobe. Everything he’d still owned upon leaving the wreckage of his life behind had fit tidily into one duffel bag. Being pressed into a uniform all week long is almost a blessing, seeing as he is not a man with an extensive wardrobe; the lone sweater he does own, thick and slightly frayed with age, does its damndest to protect him from the elements.

@ak-spra

Charlie smiled up at the Vulcan reassuringly. This was her first away mission without her creator, and to say they were both a little nervous was an understatement. But the android remained optimistic that everything would turn out fine.

make a kickstarter and tag him and let's see how far we get

god, asks like these fuck me up for DAYS and they always make me want to go back and finish the sequel to Crude

i wish i could get coffee with you two and just talk about it with you!

as for your questions (i’m assuming you mean the instas) the face claims are 

remus is zac deck. he’s a small youtuber and literally is everything you could want in life 

sirius is miles mcmillan, model and zachary quinto’s boyfriend. sometimes i use Borns for wide shots where you can’t see his face well (i’m going to his concert this week!!!!). 

lily is @/mathilda.mai on insta. she’s literally a perfect lily.

for peter, who appears on remus’s sometimes, it’s zac deck’s friend andrew scott. 

i happened upon all of them by chance, aside from borns, just hunting down faces i could match with the ones in envisioned in my head.

@ak-spra

To say Elliot was excited for shore leave would be an understatement. Being a captain was stressful, and preparing for further deep space exploration was taxing on his mind and body. He was welcoming the chance to relax, maybe have a few drinks, and get some good food. The ship’s gally was alright, for sure, but not enough to satisfy Elliot’s high metabolism. And the moment he was transported down to the planet, Elliot went straight for the nearest source of food.

“Relax, Meena, I don’t need you tailing me all the time.” Elliot mused into his communicator. “I’m a captain. I can handle getting myself some food.”

@ak-spra

“SPOOOOOOOCK!”

More than a few cadets jumped as a very loud yell split the air of the SFA quad mid summer semester. They watched as a dark haired young man practically tackled their resident Vulcan - trailed by another, amused looking Vulcan with a rather human haircut it must be noted - and started chattering in his ear.

“Long time no see baby bro!” The human, Ender, crowed in his pointed ear. “You need to visit home more often! Amanda says you never call, you, Michael and Sybok! Jeez, can’t spare a minute for your mom?”

“Ender, volume,” the other Vulcan reminded him amusedly. For indeed, the Vulcan was openly amused.

“Right thanks babe,” he winked at him. The poor Vulcan blushed green.