@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.

   “Fuck.” 

   It’s with that quiet curse that Willow appears, a flurry of feeling, of color, of pain, and collapses on a ground, knees first then legs, then body, punctuated with a sharp cry, a groan. Obviously, she notices first that it’s dark -- she can hardly see a fucking thing -- she feels blind, lost in a world of darkness and no stars. 

   No stars? No sky? Hard ground, not pliable, like dirt? “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

   There’s a pain in her side that’s been laboring her breath, pulling her Blinking, disappearing in and out, flickering like a light switch drained mostly of power -- she’s reaching out for her Staff that’s fallen on the ground in front of her, rolled forward a bit, and the pull makes her side scream, makes her nausea shake from her stomach to her teeth.

   “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! What a fucking day.” 

   What a fucking life, truly.

Hello! I am super pleased to know that you think so. Honestly, this blog only really got started because one day I went ‘huh, it’d be cool if there was a list of wlw RP blogs’, and the response was really amazing (since I need to read the tags of everyone who reblogs the post to get added to the masterlist, I get to see all these extra tags that people have added showing their support and excitement, which is just so heartening to see!)

    “You shouldn’t be here.”

    Not because he doesn’t want Spock here; but rather because he feels that they’ve been becoming too close, as of late. While shallow friendships are not discouraged in the Jedi teachings, he cannot help but worry about the depth of their relationship; he feels it would be far too easy to become entirely too reliant on Spock’s presence.

    Still, he makes no move to send Spock away. The area of the base that has been requisitioned as a makeshift home is empty, at the moment, save himself. He’s seated on the couch, alone. He does not know why he bothers coming home, when his parents are not here to appreciate the fact that their child is visiting. Perhaps he will stop visiting altogether. Wouldn’t that be better, anyway? To sever these attachments, to free himself of the misery they cause him?

    His bare feet barely brush the floor, legs swaying idly; he is braiding his hair in the way his mother taught him, some few years ago, in a rare moment of actually having time for him. He does not look up; but then, he does not need to.

If he were being generous, Spock could claim he was mostly awake, only resting his eyes — a phrase used often by McCoy.

But in truth, there was a possibility that he was nearing his limits. There was a lull between shifts, and Spock had hoped to recover some of his energy by replacing the tiredness with enough food to kick him into gear. It would seem that he had no succeeded.

The hand that secured itself over his shoulder did a better job, pulling Spock to attention and pulling his eyes open, as he looked to his social saviour. “Aella,” he greeted, delayed embarrassment at his situation showing a true testament to his exhaustion. He wanted to follow up with something, but he couldn’t exactly say sorry for almost falling asleep at my table, where I didn’t manage to get any food. How are you?

Instead, he just adjusted his uniform, checking the clock and ignoring the lingering warmth of her hand. Shift started in twenty minutes, not nearly long enough to meditate himself towards full wakefulness if he still wanted any kind of sustenance.

   It was always tiring on board the Enterprise when the captain wanted the impossible done -- which, of course, was always. Engineering said it would take twelve hours to fix what the strange nebula had destroyed -- the captain asked for five. It was understandable. Out in the middle of uncharted space, surrounded by possibly sentient beings that seemed intent on finding how many things they could break before the ship imploded -- nobody was happy. 

   Of course, it was not the only reason one may, say, fall asleep in the middle of the mess hall, but Aella would’ve been lying had she said she’d felt no other exhausted minds recently. 

   This had to take a much huger toll on those higher in command. Though Aella could still see communication console circuits when she closed her eyes, she was sure Spock was on a pretty continuous stream of command. 

   A hand reached out to her commander, the other balancing the teas and the plomeek soup she had gotten. It tightened gently around him, before the question came to her mind -- why are you touching him? Aelliana, this isn’t like you. You don’t normally just touch other people! 

   But much seemed to have changed in her since their last encounter. 

“Do they feel closer, now we don’t have the glass between us?” Spock asked, finally tracking Charlie down to find her laying on what counted for foliage on this planet. Of all the things to explore here, on their brief shore leave, she had chosen to view the very things that were something of a constant.

He waited only a beat before laying down beside her, the sense memory of this exact action bringing its’ own type of comfort. Unlike in the past, however, there was little point naming stars, Charlie knew them all instinctively, likely more than he did.

And wasn’t that a revelation? Charlie was more aware of things than he was, could easily teach him things once she became confident enough. She was still so new, so young, really, but no less capable.

Charlie thought for a few moments before answering.

Spock stiffened at the thrown contact, taking a moment to catch up to what was happening. Charlie had jumped at him without introduction, her arms wrapped firm around his shoulders in a badly co-ordinated embrace.

“Hello,” he managed, after a few seconds. “Are you well?”

For every @ i get, i have to tag someone i love/look up to!Status: Accepting!Note: I love everyone I RP with, and I apologize if I don’t get to you =(

@captainnextweek: Leo is an absolute gift. I love talking to them OOC as well as RPing with their crew of muses. Malcolm is the nerdiest Tough Guy™ around, Grey is purrrrrfect, and Dorian is The Brave Little Toaster incarnate. Also, we have a bazzilion verses already, and I wouldn’t be surprised if we made more. XD

@engineer-myfanwy-ifans: Caro is always a pleasure to see on the dash! Again, wonderful to talk to OOC, and so talented with manips! It’s so much fun seeing what she comes up with. Seeing an actual WELSH MUSE makes my heart so happy! Myf is a beautifully developed muse with so much anger and passion but also kindness and bravery. Also, the Shapeshifter and the Hellhound is an awesome AU, and I’m excited to see what these two Welsh supernatural special agent dorks get up to together. XD