when the war comes, I will sleep soundly

Lt. Alfred Strathmore, Helmsmen and Security of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Captain of the U.S.S. Atlas. Red shirt on the bridge-- at your service.

[entrjesus-blog]

The hand on his shoulder weighs less than anything he’s ever felt in his life. Jesús is certain he mutters his thanks, but he can’t be sure, as he grabs the uniform and buries his face on it. It’s definitely Strat’s. He can smell him. He feels a little safer.

"Jude," he sighs, although it’s muffled and comes out as ‘food’. Or ‘chewed’. "Yeah. He’s perfect in like, every way. Strat knows about him," he looks up, blinking. "I think. Anyway yeah, you should see him. You’d understand."

And he smiles, although it’s a bit dazed, but bright nevertheless. “It’s like. Touching the stars. Like the ones outside here, I swear man, you gotta believe me. Thanks for the tissue by the way. Hey Gretch, pass me that, will you?”

[entrgretchen-blog]

"Yeah, I guess I do." She shakes her head, squinting at the pipe for a second. "It’s pretty much just ash, but yeah, knock yourself out." She slides it across the table, carefully, the green lighter to follow. 

"Strat, what’s he like? Normal? Hot?" Somehow it was fun to tease him even with that sad look on his face. In a way, she was jealous of it. And a little annoyed, because she wasn’t quite sure they’d tolerate her crying if she’d experienced the same luck.

"All I know is he’s some kind of doctor and Zeus is on his dick now, so it doesn’t sound that bad at all. I mean, I’m gonna assume you’re on his dick now. Is he, Strat?" 

[entrstrathmore]

"Let me get that before you hurt yourself," he took the pipe, shaking it out and putting in more. He threw Zues a glance when his friend buried his face in his shirt, looking quite puppy-ish, and the red shirt tried not to roll his eyes. Zues was on cloud nine, and the soldier couldn't help but marvel at it.  

"Never met 'im actually, but I hear enough about him," a mischievous smile crept at his mouth, the red shirt taking his time to smash the weed into the bowl with the lighter. He did his best Colombian accent, looking wistfully into the bowl with mock effort, quoth Jesus.  "'--I crave the bright grace of those eyes. Oh-- to follow the road they lead, away from everything, without anguish, death, winter waiting along it-- somethin'somethin' fire--'" Strat lifted the bowl, checking his handiwork.  "Sounds pretty nice, whatever 'it' is," he grinned softly, buzzed and chasing the feeling easily. The bowl checking out. "But didn't I teach you Gretchen? We don't kiss and tell here. Class Gretch. Class." He said poignantly before handing it off to Jesus to work out the kinks of it. 

[entrjesus-blog]

"Acting weird? What do you mean? I’ve been acting like myself all day. I have nothing to hide, I don’t want to be anyone else but me for the rest of my life."

He really needed a tissue though. “I am happy, guys, I swear! Nothing to be worried about. It’s just— the stars. I’ve touched them.”

"You know?"

[entrgretchen-blog]

"…No, not really." 

She snatches the pipe from the table, lights it, and takes a long hit. Still nothing. “Seriously—get him a tissue or something, Strat, he’s freaking out. Do you know what he’s talking about?” 

[entrstrathmore]

"..Don't wanna be anyone but yourself, eh?"

They don't have tissues in here, but Strat does have an unused golden uniform. (Day numero what now of no duty?) He hands it gingerly over to his high friend, before clapping him on the shoulder.  "I dunno, Gretchen. Maybe it has somethin' to do with Jude Bird in medicine. Golly, Zues here talks about him an awful lot."  He takes the spent pipe over from Gretchen, figuring they were do for more. 

[entrgretchen-blog]

“…Are you crying?”

[entrjesus-blog]

"No."

"Maybe. No. Definitely not. I have no reasons to cry. I am not sad. Are you?"

[entrstrathmore]

"Yanno... you been actin' weird at the helm all day. Are you sick?" 

[beyonces]

[entrsam-blog]

 The thing about having someone else hanging around the lab was that Sam inevitably felt compelled to share a word or two, no matter what the topic was, it actually helped him relax and concentrate. Sure, sometimes his mouth ran like a goddamn river while his mind was completely centered on his work, so who was he to blame people when they were distracted? Still. Wow! He couldn’t help feeling a bit wounded when he found out the guy wasn’t listening. 

It was interesting as hell. Sam felt sorry for any human or non human who wasn’t bewitched by the wonders of biology. 

He even froze in the middle of handling one of the Osier’s leaves, half turning in his spot to throw Alfred a look that spoke of irritation and maybe a bit of…

Okay, okay. He was married, yeah? But it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate other’s faces, right? As Sam said, look at the buffet, but eat at home. Easy peasy. Lemon squeezy. 

Sam clicked his tongue in disapproval, carefully setting down the plant and adjusting his gloves a bit. “I was saying that each of these little claw like things on its leaves have something very similar to conhydrine, and actually pseudoconhydrine too— I’m actually surprised it can’t do anything to humans, or maybe it can? It didn’t say anything on the report but I can’t help but wonder y’know?”

But he wasn’t really paying attention, was he.

"When did you stop listening, huh? What was the last thing you heard?"

[entrstrathmore]

The man was shining on Strat, like the goddamn sun, with a jawline he could cut his teeth on. Damn, for a second, he forgot why he wasn't listening.  Alrigh', Alrigh'. Strat was caught.  He could own up, feeling a tinge of guilt when blondie looked at him with so much intent. God, he wished he could get excited about something like plants.  He couldn't help it, though, he laughed. The look on his face-- too much, even for his guilt to take seriously.  "Ya know," he said, waving a finger. "It's boy scouts like you that keep this place runnin'. You let me know when those Osiers get dangerous for humans, and tell me about that, eh?" 

He untangled his long legs to put boots flat on the ground poignantly, deciding to go to the fridge to keep from decomposing too much. If he waited around too long, he was getting bitchy.  Right next to the frozen fungi and Striptus Heads, surely there was something to drink. He pulled out a bottle of something green, like tea. He shook it at Kirk.  "Hey, can I drink this?" It had Sam's name on it, surely this was a snack or something. 

[entrstrathmore]

As a default in chemistry, the soldier was a fan of blonds. Usually not married dudes with a zealous boner for plants, but hey -- Strat had twelve hours to entertain himself here. And this was a Class R threat level experiment, not like you could tell by the pretty pink flowers that Samuel over there was fawning over.  Samuel Kirk looked like a kid finding his dad's porno mag when the enterprise got their hands on some Weeping Osier off the class M planet they hit two days ago, and yeah Strathmore had to get the low done form Starfleet in form of a very strict message from Sarek. Yes, ambassador, I know what Weeping Osier is. No, I did not know it was lethal to Vulcans and Vulcan species. Yes, I understand these experiments are very important for the future of the species. Yes, I will watch Sam over there fondle your plants safety, Ambassador.  Sigh. He saw the signed release for forty hours of research on this thing too. It was gonna long feckin' week.

Strathmore was listening to Samuel ramble about something, and the soldier was just entertaining himself with the man's starfleet issued science pants, just to keep things interesting.  "Sorry-- what was that?" He asked, catching the tail end of what he'd said. Day one. Here we go. 

[successionseasonthree]

Gabs. 👀 I have the eyes. Also. For your meme - broship of Jesus/Strat. 🙉

yoU HAVE THE EYESSSSSS YeSSSsssss 👀 

lemme see hmmmm hmmmm 

collects rocks

probably both. jesus would collect the ugly little ones but theyre smooth so he likes them because of it and strat collects the bright pretty ones. their collection is enormous

takes pictures of the other while they’re asleep

sTrAT ok and theyre unflattering as hell so jesus whines about it but strat does not relent

gets drunk and breaks shit

both of course (except jesús apologizes like a hundred times and tries to fix it but gives up soon enough, strat does it and enjoys every second of it, he’s like an evil cat)

can’t swim

oh man i dont know, can strat swim? i bet he can ? jesús can swim so hmmm

remembers to feed the fish

jesús u.u when strat doesnt remember jesús chastises him like hell

puts up Christmas decorations in November

ok but since i saw that gif/pic of idris putting up the tree its probably him, he’s also probably high so he lets it go 

sends inappropriate texts and SnapChats while the other is in a meeting

STRAT DOES THIS om fgf 

makes Sims just to drown them in the pool

strat. ….. and then jesús sets them on fire lmao om g (he feels bad about it later but strat laughs it off and shows him all the cheat codes he knows)

brings the other coffee at work

jesús!! although they probably both do it lets be real (but jesús gets the best coffee in the ship because he gets it from colombia so like, he wins) 

takes gym locker room selfies

strat…………….. and then he takes candids of everyone around no matter if theyre naked or not whoo cares

signs them up for tennis lessons and a salsa-making class

jesús,…. … because he is a jerk sometimes, and when he is he goes big or goes home. in the end they enjoy the tennis lessons and probably die in the salsa class

forgets to charge the other’s iPad and leaves it dead on the coffee table

OM G bOTH lmaO, one because he doesnt want to get into trouble (he will inevitably but he’ll hide meanwhile) and strat bc he is, as i said b4, evil cat

[entrdon-blog]

Not even the cool metal of the flask in her hand seems to soothe her. There was only so much shooting she could do with Aria, the sweet lovely girl (who was definitely hiding something but she didn’t know what). There was only so much drinks she could handle too, but did that matter?

Certainly not, Don decided as the burning scotch went down her throat. 

The two men behind her laughed at something. Loud, cheerful laughter. She rolled her eyes, standing up to sit in a more quiet corner of the room. Not that she objected to their happiness. Those kids could do whatever they wanted for all she cared. It just wasn’t exactly the ruckus she wanted to be around at the moment.

With a tired little sigh, she slumped in her spot and crossed her arms. The look she got from the person by her side didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll be quiet, I promise. Keep on doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

[entrstrathmore]

Strat didn't know what it was that brought him into the nice thrum that was crowds. The man enjoyed the pulse that buzzed about the air of a room full of intoxicated people. Nah, this wasn't as bad as some of his other hide outs, considering he was still on a Starship, and everything here was relatively legal, but even after twenty years-- nothing had really changed. It didn't even matter what he did, he just liked knowing that the little bleep on his screen - the thing that indicated another starship out there in space, was not just an immaterial thing. Their little blip? All the bodies in this room, and on the other decks. It was easy to forget, being a Captain. Now, he didn't protect these people - nah, he was just another body inside the machine now.

Though on less deep and foreboding thoughts, Strat was actually here because he could get a good signal from Earth. The helmsman was on his PADD, waiting on Jesus to show up, and was watching a football game he could only get within Earth's Orbit. But Zues- well-- Strat had guessed about thirty minutes ago, had blew him off, which was fine with him. They were supposed to play dominoes, and usually when two of them ever did anything, it seemed like half the ship would show up. Right now, however, he was flicking his PADD screen, trying to get the archaic sensor to pick up a better signal, when some stranger with a mop of hair shuffled in next to him. Alfred didn't even look up, his brow furrowed in concentration as he was trying to decipher who was uniform was on the screen. He really hoped that yellow card wasn't his team. He frowned deeply.

"In my experience," Alfred said to the new stranger, slowly, and with weight. "People don't come up here for quiet, but hey - I don't judge. Promise me whatever you'd like to make that seat comfortable," he said, frowning as he flicked the screen with a large thumb and forefinger. Well shit, he was pretty certain another point was scored.

[entrjesus-blog]

He coughed.

Well, there was no reason to hide it, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly embarrassed to be caught so disheveled by her, of all people. Patting his hair down, he smiled at her, feeling his skin warm up.

Or maybe it was already warm, he didn’t know. He didn’t care.

"Hey Mira. Just talking. What’s up?" 

[entrstrathmore]

Alfred was caught mid-inhale. He blew it out the side of his mouth, coughing and straightened himself as he did. He didn’t bother hiding the joint, though. Realizing it was only Mira, he sighed through his nose and casually placed the joint back on his lips. It was Mira, and Strat wasn’t going to insult her intelligence by playing coy. "You know, doin’ our jobs. Flyin’ Federation Starships and all that. Busy work - that is." He grinned wryly with the joint in his teeth. He felt the warmth dance on his skin, and he was half melted in the seat anyway. "You wanna join us?" He asked easily. It was probably a bad idea. He didn’t know her that well, but hell - it’s not like anything else was gonna happen today.

[jay-mockridge-deactivated201508]

"I was looking for an empty to room to entertain myself." She paused. "Not like that. I meant I was gonna dance for a bit.” 

Mira narrowed her eyes at the two men, still standing in the doorway. The smoke surrounded the two idiots, and Mira actually had to wave some of it out of her face to get a clear look of Strat and Jesus. She honestly wasn’t sure if she should be amused or freaked out right now that they were getting high in some random ship on board. Were there even any rules against it?

She slowly walked into the room, taking a seat besides Strat. She bit her lip, looking at the joint. She never really had tried any before…except for this one time. That had been interesting day. So Mira shrugged. “Sure, why the hell not.”

[entrstrathmore]

Strat smiled, all white teeth and relaxed air. He was floating a little, but really he was an enabler if there ever was one. He remembered the first time he and Jesus every lit up. He was certain Jesus was either afraid of hated him, he wasn't sure which - but they were friends after that. Crossin' barriers and all that. He was too damn old to be having disputes with his fellow pilots. Too much time in the great blackness that was space to grind hairs over something that could get them all killed. In a way, they were saving lives by doin' this. It was all for the greater good. Where he was from, it was pretty much a necessity. It wasn't like he was endorsin' on the clock after all. He pulled up a chair, and let Mira in. Body language and all. He took the joint from his lips and held it between his fore finger and thumb. He threw Jesus a knowing look, because he was in an mischievous mood, before turning back to Mira completed serious. Face blank, void of any tom-foolery.

"Now Mira, I like you. You're a good pilot. You do good work." Strat lifted a finger - the other hand holdin' the joint like he was about to knight her with it. It was all quite funny, but the look on Strat's face was anything but. "But before you enter The Circle, first you must understand two things. First--" "The Circle," he said poignantly, lifting his dark brows, "is sacred. We do not talk about The Circle. You don't get to tell Pavel, or any of your other friends about The Circle. Helmsmen and Helmswomen-- only." Next, he lifted the tiny joint. Alfred did not drop the facade. Dead pan as ever. He was clearly messing with her, but only Jesus would know that. Alfred made up the 'The Circle' right on the spot-- "Second. Today, you get a free pass, if you so agree. But in one week, you must bring me the Left Handed Torque Initiator. You will get no hints, only know that every pilot before you had such a task. Sulu, Jesus, myself. Is this agreed?" A great task. Like the holy grail of made-up objects on the spot. He offered her the joint, cocking a brow, awaiting her answer with the utmost seriousness.

[nightclub]

Visit Original Link

[entrstrathmore]

Hey, when seas will cover lands And when men will be no more Don't think you can forgive you

[entrjesus-blog]

”I’d probably be bored too but I would be moving.” He raises his eyebrows, as if to make a point, and eyes the joint between his fingers before sticking the tip of his tongue at him.

"Fine, fine. Vacations."

"It’s a nice way to look at it."

[entrstrathmore]

Strathmore laughed, taking a hit off the small joint, leaning back in his seat. He held it pleasantly behind his ribs. He raised his eyebrows when he noticed Jesus eying him. He exhaled all smokey clouds and deep voice. "Damn right it’s nice. Try some real gravity for once, that’s nice.”

He offered it to his friend wordlessly. He smiled, coughing a bit as he exhaled the rest. "You really got nothin’ you wanna do when you’re here?"

[evil203]

[jay-mockridge-deactivated201508]

Mira was in a weird mood. She wasn’t happy about still being on the ground — she was a helmsman, for God’s sake. She needed to be flying, not roaming the corridors of the ship, figuring out her purpose in life. Okay, life was pushing it, but still. She wanted to fly. So, seeing as she couldn’t do that, Mira decided to venture out and find somewhere where she could do the second best thing to flying: dancing. 

Walking the corridors, she opened a few doors here and there until she opened and stumbled upon two of her fellow helmsman: Strathmore and Jesus. And they were…well:

"What are you two doing?" She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

[entrjesus-blog]

He coughed.

Well, there was no reason to hide it, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly embarrassed to be caught so disheveled by her, of all people. Patting his hair down, he smiled at her, feeling his skin warm up.

Or maybe it was already warm, he didn’t know. He didn’t care.

"Hey Mira. Just talking. What’s up?" 

[entrstrathmore]

Alfred was caught mid-inhale. He blew it out the side of his mouth, coughing and straightened himself as he did. He didn't bother hiding the joint, though. Realizing it was only Mira, he sighed through his nose and casually placed the joint back on his lips. It was Mira, and Strat wasn't going to insult her intelligence by playing coy. "You know, doin' our jobs. Flyin' Federation Starships and all that. Busy work - that is." He grinned wryly with the joint in his teeth. He felt the warmth dance on his skin, and he was half melted in the seat anyway. "You wanna join us?" He asked easily. It was probably a bad idea. He didn't know her that well, but hell - it's not like anything else was gonna happen today.

[entrjesus-blog]

"Listen to that."

“That’s the sound of the ship not moving.”

"And me becoming extremely bored."

[entrstrathmore]

"You know.. Zues, I hate to say it but - whose to say you wouldn't be bored flying through empty space in Delta Quadrant - exactly where we were headed." "...Gotta learn to relax, man. Vacation on your homeworld, yeah?"

[enterpriserp-blog]

Starfleet’s Finest - Engineering

[entrstrathmore]

Poker Night - One Night Only

"I am shuttin' the doors at ten. Anyone wants to lose is welcome."

[entrstrathmore]

Alfred Strathmore | 44 [Human] | Helmsman/ Security | TAKEN | Idris Elba

☆ Charming, Affectionate, Hardy

★ Guileless, Nihilistic, Judgmental

Alfred Strathmore had a happy childhood in the human colony on Tarsus IV, living with a sickly twin brother - they both challenged and strengthened each other into adulthood. While his brother pursued the avenue of medicine, Strat had dreams of space travel away from the small colony. It was only when a fungi epidemic struck the planet's few crops, did everything change drastically to war.

By the time Alfred was in his twenties, both of his parents were killed in bombing dispute over supplies. Alfred dropped his dreams of Starfleet to take up arms as a soldier in the militia. The time came when Alfred had to make a choice to turn on his own government after  talk of a "solution" to the hunger epidemic came into play. Strathmore, through gathered intelligence, learned of the list created by Governor Krodos to rid half of the planet of its population in order to save the other half from starvation. With a planet dragged into the dark ages, a civil war broke out - but it was too late. It was through a miracle that Strathmore survived the purge, while his brother did not. The Tarsiun soldier and the last of the survivors were saved by vessel from the United Federation of Planets, and undergone a refugee program upon Earth.

Alfred's wishes to join Starfleet were amply fulfilled and the ex-soldier pursued a reputable Security/Command track at the academy. Alfred found himself Captain of the military freighter - the U.S.S. Atlas. The ship ventured into deep space and back, on a dangerous and unblemished trek for more than ten years before being sacked by Romulan invaders. With the threat of losing his beloved crew, Alfred fought the fully militarized Romulan ship with his own under-gunned vessel. Through years of tactical training, and the loyalty of his crew, the U.S.S. Atlas not only damaged their own cargo beyond repair, but destroyed the Romulan ship. Strathmore, after a contingency in the Starfleet bureaucracy, knew his job was in jeopardy for the un-authorized counter-attack of a Romulan ship. Alfred, rather than asked to step down, was offered a position on the Starfleet's newest flagship -- the U.S.S. Enterprise. Alfred took the demotion, and joined the ranks of a baby crew on a baby ship with a grain of salt. 

Alfred's mouth is dry of the blood-thirst he had in his youth, and keeps himself blissfully occupied. His position as Helmsman has been a place of refuge for the old soldier, helping him forget about the wars that follow him into the empty spaces of sleep and inactivity. 

Despite no longer being a Captain of his own ship, Strathmore has found himself to fit into the Enterprise crew just fine. He enjoys the boisterous company of his fellow helmsmen, Jesús Olivera and Hikaru Sulu. He has a paternal fondness of their CoS, Daniel Hadley, and the two often spar. He shares a complicated past with the civilian doctor Mia Ingram, who insists upon indifference in the face all that happened between them.