you bought a star;

Blood Flood (calypso-eileen)

Sam could feel her heart pound in her chest, the noise coming up and making her head spin.

THUMP

Screams were heard behind them and Eileen’s hand tangled with hers, Sam squeezed, holding on for dear life.

THUMP

Sam yanked everyone around a corner, trying to remember the blueprints she spent hours studying. There has to be an exit, why isnt there an exit?!

She was near hyperventilating, the loud noises behind her making her want to cry. But she had to stay strong, they had to get out, they had to survive this.

"What do we do?!" she asked, her tone panicked and whispered, trying to keep quiet so maybe they had a chance of staying hidden, she didnt want to die. She couldn’t die. More panic.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

Her hand gripped Eileen’s tighter, a few tears escaping down her cheeks, she had never been this scared before and she was practically immobilized by it.

#ayy #SCREAMS #WEEPS #TEARS OFF MY SHIRT

They're closing in on the transporters. She knows it. She can feel it, feel the familiarity of the ship and relief pulsate through her bones and settle like dust in her aching nerves and straining muscles.

But she shakes and she quivers and she keeps going, faster now. She pulls Sam faster and faster, closer and closer -- almost there, almost there. She has to stop. Has to halt abrupt and ground Sam the way Sam grounded her. "Calm down, calm down --" she touches her face, her shoulders, finger tips drifting over her pulse that thumps and thumps and thumps, and smooths away tears.

She's too gentle, too nice --- it's adrenaline, she tells herself, it's adrenaline and she's delirious with fright -- "We'll be fine. We just need to get to the transporters and we'll be fine. We're close. Stop crying. We'll be fine."

She's reassuring Sam as much as she's reassuring herself. They'll be fine, they'll be fine. But the screaming continue and metal clangs and clatters and phasers still whine and whirl and she can't help but wonder: what if we're not fine?

paleshadowofadragon

bloodydifficult

#ayy #LMAO REJECTED #GIRL BY E

Blood Flood (calypso-eileen)

They were almost home free, so close. Then of course, everything went to hell. There were shots fired and she had tensed up, Sam didn’t know how to fight, she was a scientist dammit! When she felt Eileen grab her shoulder she moved automatically, part of her wanting to jump in front of the other scientist and block any danger from getting her and the other part wanted to hide forever.

She heard the shouting of the officers but nothing really registered. The blonde looked up at Dr. Ortega and grabbed for her arm, trying to stay with her as they ran.

She counts her breaths -- exhale, inhale. She tries to remember the last time she was this scared (electricity snapping from joint to joint, muscles screaming but she pushes, pushes, pushes ---) but all she can think about is space. Space and its endless terrors, so black, so dangerous, so enticing. And she remembers she's here because she was so fascinated by the black and danger and the enticements.

Exhale, inhale.

They scream and she can't think of anything but space. They scream and her feet fall faster, moving faster, faster, faster -- She forgets she's not alone between the insidious, bending halls of the ship. A hand encircles her arm and she almost jerks away, almost fights back claws retracted and spitting like a cornered animal, but she meets Sam's eyes and she's scared -- so scared.

Exhale, inhale --- she finds herself. Mind clearing and she knows, remembers the way out, remembers their objective is cleared, and now it's time to get out.

In the midst of screaming and metal grating and burning lasers hissing, she falters. Her own hand takes Sam's grip away from her arm (so gently, so softly it's a perturbing juxtaposition against their surroundings that scream and hiss and grate) and she tangles their fingers -- secure -- and they continue on. Exhale, inhale.

#creys

calypso-asim

Asim tapped at Fitz’s shoulder, gesturing with his head to keep up with the pack. The worst thing in the whole damn world would be for anyone to get separated from the pack. But it just seemed too easy so far. They had found the lady, whatevr it was, did it matter, and now they were headed back, lack of confrontation as of yet. These were Borgs they were dealing with here.

God, he knew he just worried too much.

The tricorder was buzzing warmly in his palm, scanning all the different frequencies aboard the ship. It was much easier to weed out communication wavelengths when there were next to none, but there were certainly some disturbances he hadn’t seen before.

The man blinked, snatching at his phaser once Hazel snapped at them. “They think we are just some geeks wishing to kill ourselves in the name of science..” He huffed quietly, sneering at the back of Oliveria’s head, but staying closer nonetheless.

calypso-hazel

"Get back to me when you’re not." Hazel turned and shot a glare at the man, along with the littler one lagging behind. Then there were two girls behind them—a little antsier, but she held more sympathy.

If Mudah could lead the rest of security in the back, with the medic protected, weapons and research in the center, it would make for a decent tactical formation, impromptu or not.

In her mind, Sciences plus the woman of the hour slowed them down, although it wasn’t really true. That helmsman was trouble and she knew it—so, in a low whisper, she added: “Stay with me, Olivera, we gotta—”

Somewhere in between that, between the scrape of someone’s gait or the sound of a tricorder, she felt the weight of a pursuit crash down on her. Borg drones with no fanfare, just advancing mindlessly, like hornets. She did everything in her power not to scramble backwards, the transporter was just the hall down, a scrape away—

She could see the face of something that used to be human, and winced.

"Move move move,” and she drew her phaser, firing a few times. If they could just take them out in a few seconds, they’d make it out without a scratch. Somehow she doubted it would be that easy.

calypso-porter

The sound of a phaser being fired made Don shake, in what she could only describe as combination of a rush of excitement, and a shiver of absolute and raw fear.

The gun was out of the holster and in her hand before the security man at her side could even blink.

"What part of move it did you not understand?” she yelled over the fire, just as the clang of metallic feet over the clean floor of the ship resonated all around them, made her clench her jaw.

"Hazel! Hazel you stay with me. Your boy goes with Sciences and Dr. Byrne, get them the hell out of here, quickly. Keep your comm on Line 3," to Ortega, and to Darzi, "you better know how to shoot straight girl, ‘cause you’re staying with us."

Fuck.

In and out, she said. Get in and then out as fast as they could -- it seemed so simply, so fucking easy. Too easy.

Grating metal, hissing phasers comes together in a hacked crescendo lacing and burning, searing, singing through the fibers of her nerves. Her pulse flutters and jumps; rabbit heart frenetic as it leaps and bounds and threatens to surge and break from the fringes of her skin; breathe stitch against crumbling lungs, low and shivering. She's dizzy with adrenaline and her limbs are heavy when she wrenches Fitz's collar back and (eons more gently) nudges Sam away.

"We gotta go -- move." It cuts through a twisted lip, tight with anticipation. Her jaw is tautened, teeth grinding and the muscles teetering with tension. Cat eyes smolder and she tries to keep calm, so calm -- but God damn she's terrified.

She's shaking. Fumbling with jittery limbs as they high-tail it away (guilt poisons in her legs, in her arms, snaking like thorny veins across lattice -- she abandons them so easily, so shamelessly). Eyes flicker to Dr. Byrne and she cringes, blinks hard, and hisses another breathe. It was supposed to be easy.

#DAMN IT FITZ

Walking behind them gives him a great view of Sam floundering, as usual, and Eileen pretty much already on her. Small victories. He’d have to text Asim, but he’d probably scold him for not focusing on his work.

(His mind wandered for a moment as soon as he came to mind, and he bit on his lip pensively. God, they were a mess. He’d—)

Oh, and then Eileen was speaking to him, staring him down as always. “I—eh, guess not.”

"Samwise, you want me to lag behind and take those notes so you can see in front of you?"

Samantha’s head whipped around to look at Fitz, clutching her notebook to her chest. “What?! No. I got it. I can take the notes.” she gave a small nervous chuckle and ran a hand through her hair, tucking a few loose strands back in place. “I can try to get us an early blueprint of the ship, not the best but it’ll be better than nothing,” she smiled at Eileen sweetly and scribbled in her notebook before starting to walk again.

Her eyes kept drifting from her notes to Eileen, her cheeks burning redder and redder. She fully looked up at the other and grinned, nearly tripping as she walked. She righted herself and chuckled. “Two left feet… you know…” Sam blurted to cover her ass.

Shit shit shit shit don’t make a fool of yourself, Samantha.

Sam is like a lamb, she muses, fumbling around aimlessly with big, bright, inquisitive eyes and a guileless craving to know everything and all there is between the planets and star dust and fringes of the universe. Eileen won't admit that the small, kinder part of her wells with how endearing it is but she allows a minute and almost invisible smile to tug at the corners of her cheek. "Definitely better than nothing. It should help a lot, too." She responds, though halfway through it drifts quieter and quieter and instead she finds herself wondering why she's comparing Sam's smile to a supernova.

Fitz and her perpetual irritation directed towards him sits on the back burner of her mind, worlds more irrelevant compared to grace Sam apparently lacks. "Totally." It's an excuse and Eileen very well knows it -- but something about the sunny blonde has tamed the ever sardonic nature that is Eileen. "I know -- mainly because I work in close contact with Fitz." ...Okay, maybe not.

"Alright, alright, Jesus.” Then again, he’d probably been a little too friendly for his own good.

Nothing could prevent him from feeling like a little brother then, so he just decided to fall behind a bit and let the two of them walk side by side, if not for just a moment.

Which was probably the problem with Fitz—when he knew he was pushing it, he would back off, but a good amount of the time he sure as hell didn’t notice. “Seems pretty straightforward. And we got each other’s backs—right?”

"Yeah we got each other’s backs," she smiled briefly at Fitz before her attention turned back to Eileen, she felt her cheeks flush and she looked down at her notebook to hide it. "I uh… Ive been doing some researching…" she mumbled, tripping over her words when she met the other woman’s eyes. "I mean to give us a safe route, hopefully no surprises." explained.

"I think we need a clear plan, without one everything could go to hell, someone could get hurt…" Sam was always trying to plan things out, she hated when things went wrong, especially when things she was in charge of went wrong.

"Are we in agreement?"

#heADCANON #SHE DOES THAT LITTLE TONGUE POKE ALL THE TIME #DOESN'T EVEN REALIZE IT

'No' is practically blaring from speakers in her mind, reverberating off the back of her head and through her ears. It just makes it to her tongue when Sam answers and Eileen can't help but mumble an agreement, though she huffs at her own sudden willingness.

The blonde's demeanor, however, spikes a bit of self confidence in her. She sees the ruddy hue in her cheek and the inability to speak properly isn't lost on her. The smirk that embeds itself in her cheeks in hard to contain. "No surprises. Just the way I'd prefer it." It's a compliment, though a poorly executed one.

Meticulous she was, maybe to a fault, but Eileen could definitely dig it. "Sounds great, but we kind of need the ship's layout before we can determine the safest route. I think once we board we tap into the mainframe or whatever and try to get a outline or whatever. From there we can determine the safest route." And then she looks to Fitz and the smirk is traded in for a look of appraisal. "You got anything to add?"

katbarrell

Cosima Niehaus + the tongue poke

C’mon, Eileen, don’t do me like that. [He nudges her in the arm with his elbow, then immediately regrets it.]

I guess we get what we can with the tricorder, even if it means running backwards. You and Samwise wanna lead the way, since you’re the brains?

Sam rounded the corner, nose stuck in a notebook as she scribbled down everything she needed to remember. She saw her team and swallowed, “Am I interrupting something? Fitz are you being an ass again?”

"Also do we have a plan?"

#eileen is just like: shit she's cute B(#space siblings #space lesbians

She is a literal moment away from twisting Fitz's arm behind his back and shoving him against the nearest wall, nearest desk, nearest person --- anything really, as long as it'd hurt him. But the soft soprano of another halts her ire and instead of wrenching out and assaulting her fellow biologist, her fist clenches at her side and her jaw tautens some. "When isn't he being an ass." Her eyes roll exasperatingly and she rounds on the other, a harsh quip burning at the tip of her tongue -- which quickly diminishes once she actually sees who it is. She blinks. Relaxes; shoulders loosen and slump. "Our plan is to get our shit and get out. That's out plan." It's still rude, but infinitesimal compared to her usual ways.

Okay, nothing personal, but how are we supposed to save this doctor lady, get our research on the Borg, and also not get turned into kitchen supplies all at the same time?

calypso-radley-deactivated20140

With ease, hopefully, unless you plan to make our jobs difficult and fuck shit up. Don't think about it too much -- or else you probably will do something and we'll all end up as kitchen supplies. Or worse: without our research and the doctor.

#space siblings

Someone’s not very happy. Fortunately I haven’t done anything.

#eileen #be nice you fucking dick

No I'm fucking peachy. The happiest, can't you tell?

Good. Because I was point five seconds from sucker punching you in the dick.

Nah. [He steps over to his space in the lab, going through a few drawers before turning back around to her.] We lucked out. We’re gonna save a civilian ship, and that gets us brownie points with the fleet. And if they look at the research we’ve found then they’ll know we’re invaluable.

Wham-bam.

#space siblings #so damn cute #look at them omg #she's like the sassy mean little sister #aw #awww

[ She always forgets he exists; at least she tries to, but it's kind of hard what with him being in her space constantly. At least he keeps a distance. Filling out an 'accident' report would be a pain in the ass. ] I highly doubt there will be a conveniently distressed civilian ship in need of our saving, Fitz. I highly doubt our research is enough to save us, regardless of how awesome it may be.

Last time I checked, they don't really care all that much for science. Mainly, they're just meat heads with raging hard-ons for guns and shit.

So, basically, because a handful of idiots couldn't keep their fucking mouths shut we're all gonna pay.

That's fucking great. Ace, man. I really hope I don't find out who it is, not for my sake but for theirs.

#calypsostarter #calypsoopen #event4

What were things you liked to do when you were a teenager?

Read books, smoke shit, and volunteer at animal shelters.Normal things, basically.

#i had to use that gif #she looks adorable am crey #Anonymous

He’d assumed he’d be sharing space with someone else, although they obviously liked to keep the place clean; after all, it was only natural to collaborate with the other handful of xenobiologists aboard.

What he didn’t expect, however, was that fellow xenobiologist to be glaring daggers at him.

He turned and backed against the counter awkwardly, not sure whether to be terrified or accepting. “They, uh—” God damn it. “They put me in 4A. That’s all.”

The only thing he wasn’t really used to was this kind of vitriol. He liked the place so much he stuck around, after all. Of course, interpersonal relationships had never been his strong suit, and he probably drove plenty of people up the wall without ever knowing it.

#tOORA LOORA #TOORA LOO RYE AYYEE

This was unaccepted on several different levels. Never had her space been breached before, invaded by a complete stranger. It was uncomfortable. She didn't like it, not one bit. The other xenobiologists generally gave her her space and in return she didn't bother with them (not like she would have anyway) unless it was absolutely necessary. They didn't go near her and she didn't go near them. It was fine that way. She preferred it that way, and they did too.

But her space had been breached. The comfortable loneliness shattered and it was not okay. She immediately bristled, especially when he backed off as if she was only moments from pouncing on him like some feral animal (which, in retrospect, she might have). She approached her lab bench (hers, she wasn't down with this sharing bullshit) and set down her things maybe a tad too hard than was necessary, reveling in the sharp clamor of metal against metal. "They," her tone was condescending and practically oozing with distaste and her eyes narrowed in on him the way a vulture would a carcass. "They as in the captain and first officer, I take it?"

No one else would mess with her. No one would intentionally try and tamper with her way, at least she didn't think they would. But the captain and first officer weren't exactly aware of her not-so-friendly disposition, so she couldn't exactly blame them. But that wasn't going to stop her from being pissed. There were plenty of other labs, plenty of others places to put the invader. Hell, they could have placed him in a run-down broom closet for all she cared, she just wanted her space. Alas, she wasn't going to get it and that was a fact that she'd have to begrudgingly accept. It wasn't as if she could storm into the bridge and demand he be removed. That wouldn't go down well. So, all she could do was hopefully work around him and maybe ignore his existence entirely.

"Fine. Whatever. Just stay out of my way and I'll try not to throw sulfuric acid in your face, 'kay? Also, get rid of the snacks or move them at least. This isn't a cafeteria."

"You know what you’re doing."

"Will you still come with me?"

"I still don’t trust you enough to leave you alone."

So it had come into motion, and he found himself again with that single miserable junior-grade lieutenant pip on his collar. To think he hadn’t touched his ranking when he’d spent the past handful of years in the stars; and the step up was really just an honorary thing. He still just barely qualified as an ensign.

But it felt all right to just be back on board. As a crewman as opposed to a personality, a character who earned a few gawky months of interviews and a decent-selling book. He’d already learned most people didn’t care.

It was nice. There was something heavy in his chest, still, but it was nice. He would have even called himself a little cheery as he set up his lab space, with his mementos and moderate stash of junk food; enough to not notice at first someone approaching.