(no subject)

[dancingmd]

Who: Beverly Crusher and you
Broadcast: Network - Video
Action: Blue Fish
When: September 1

[There's a strangely familiar cold that has settled in her bones, a dreadful chill that disorients her in the first few moments that she's awake. Her first thought is that something went wrong - very wrong - as they passed through the temporal distortion, but then... as she sits up and takes in her surroundings, the memories all come back in a flood. Atroma has brought Beverly back, a little older, a little blonder, and with a new Starfleet uniform.

Or maybe I never left, she thinks. This is not the Marsiva, these are her quarters aboard the Blue Fish, and none of her things look as if they've been moved. Though admittedly, her memories of Drift Fleet seem distant. By her reckoning, it's been three years since she's seen this room.

Not that "time" really means much, considering what's happened in the past few days.

The communicator rests where she left it on the bedside table. When she picks it up, she finds it's full of unread messages, crewmates and friends wondering where she is, each message sounding more alarmed than the last. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she checks today's date: September first.]

Damn!

[Immediately, she sends a message to the network, via video:]

This is Dr. Crusher of the... SS Blue Fish. It seems our gracious captors sent me home for a while. I'm back now, and I'm safe, and I'm sorry to everyone who was trying to contact me this month. I'll be on the Blue Fish if you need me.

[There's a pause, as if she's about to say something else, but then she simply gives them a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes.]

Thank you.

[The feed cuts off and after a moment, she decides to head for the kitchen. Not that she's particularly hungry but - there's a good chance that's where she'll find at least a few of her crewmates.]

007 - Text

[onlyanapple]

Who: Crowley and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Málum
When: Right now!

Well, as pleasant as this star system is, and as much as I don't want to say the 'B' word and incite horrible things upon us, I feel the need to fill my time a little bit. So I've decided to stretch your minds a little bit with some riddles. Because why the hell not. Answer as many or as few as you like.

RIDDLE THE FIRST:

There was once a wealthy old man with three sons. He was coming to the end of his life and instead of dividing his money up equally amongst them like a normal person would, he decided to set his sons a task. He gave them each a paltry sum of coins, and told them to buy something to fill a room with. (Before you ask, the room is the same one each time)

The first son bought some bales of hay, but he didn't have enough to fill the room with. The second bought a bunch of rock, but these, too, failed to fill the room. The third son bought two things with his coins, and together, they filled the room and he inherited his father's fortune.

What did he buy?

RIDDLE THE SECOND:

There is a dead man in the centre of a field. He carried with him an unopened package. Before he got into the field, he knew he was going to die. How?

RIDDLE THE THIRD (spoilers: this one is the easy one):

I'm at the end of time and space, at the beginning of the end, and at the end of life. What am I?

Captain's Log 04 - Waking Dreams

[universal_charm]

Who: Jim Kirk & You
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Yes, on the Tourist
When: Now (that is, Friday)

<sub>[ It's a strange feeling, waking up and staring at a ceiling that he instinctively knows is on a ship. He hasn't looked at one of those in awhile, mostly because his ship was still being built. He had been able to tour some parts of her, but she was far from complete, and certainly nowhere near ready for him to move into. So why? Why was there something familiar about this ceiling? He had seen it before, he was sure, nagging at the back of his mind -

The Fleet.

It struck him like a slap, making him gasp, and he sat up sharply, looking down at himself, wrapped in his survival suit of all things. He touched the raised silver crest of Star Fleet, trying to wrap his mind around the notion he was back on the Tourist. How long had it been? Almost three years? He had just celebrated his birthday, so, yes, three years...

Looking around he located the communicator, flipping it open, remembering the motions easily enough as he keyed up the video and looked in. It's to late by the time he realizes that he has a crown settled into his somewhat fluffier hair and a bright red lipstick mark on his cheek. Who-? Well, whatever, everyone will just get to see him attempt to rub the lipstick off as he speaks, crown, for the moment, remaining where it was. ]</sub>

Uh - hello everyone. I'm not sure how much time as passed here, so I suppose I should start with introductions. My name is Captain James Tiberius Kirk, U.S.S. Enterprise, though feel free to call me Jim. I was here once before, but I suppose at some point I got sent home.

It's been three years for me. So, if possible, I wouldn't mind a roll call of who all is here - and exactly how much time has passed for you all.

Kirk, out.

<sub>[ He turns off the communicator and gets up slowly, stretching, making his way for the kitchen and wondering if that cantankerous coffee machine was still here and functioning, and if it had been tamed. He hoped so. He desperately needed coffee. Maybe something more too. Yes, definitely something more.

Irish coffee it was Or as close as he could get it. ]</sub>