A Lady

Indie, alien OC. Est. March 2017. Written by Sam

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ncthingstars‌:

       imagine how easy it would be, if everyone could read minds and he could just transmit his thoughts without having to speak the words. he doesn’t want to say what he is — the part he knows, of course — but he probably has no choice. of course he’s done the research himself, or tried to. the borg databases have nothing, as far as he can tell. no record. it’s harrowing. 

“thank you,” he says, and finally, finally moves properly into the room, hovering closer to where cass stands. “so…..” hugh swallows, bracing himself. “i’m borg. ex-borg,” he corrects himself automatically. “i don’t…. other than a general estimate of age, i don’t have much to go on for my life before that.” his mouth is dry. he’s never talked about any of this except with seven and icheb, geordi, the doctors…. he doesn’t like to talk about it. “i’m told i was likely assimilated as an infant. possibly in the alpha quadrant, possibly beyond.” he shrugs. “but i don’t know where from.”

She’s never met a borg -- ex-borg, she corrects herself -- before. Their ways are still an active source of study, from what she can recall there is still much to be learned about the collective. And while it is a fascinating concept, Cass does realize that the person in front of her is more than a case study.

She listens to him closely, nodding at appropriate moments. There’s a brief moment of silence once he’s done, Cass is trying to collect her thoughts, “I will confess my knowledge of the borg is minimal, but like I said before, I can try to help,” she says finally.

“May I ask why you want to find out about your past so badly?” another pause, this time a guilty one, “Oh, I do apologize that was extremely rude of me, I really should avoid prying like this.”

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ncthingstars‌:

       he wonders immediately of course if she can recognize he’s borg. ex-borg. an xb. ( funny, how easy it is for him to correct other people, but when he does it himself, he tends to just let it happen. ) he doesn’t know what to expect at all, but it’s far too late to turn and flee now, so he remains rooted in the doorway even as the woman stands up. neither makes an attempt to move toward the other. his feet don’t seem to be connected to his brain, nor obeying its commands to actually step inside. fight or flight, always, and right now he’s still zeroed in on flight. “cass,” he says, and the warmth in his voice isn’t forced but the calmness is. “wonderful to meet you. please… it’s just hugh.” and it really is. he certainly has no other name to accompany it. 

“i’m sorry, this might be a… strange request, but, i’m…” he clears his throat. he was never this inarticulate on the artifact, while working. he has to stop letting his own personal fears interfere with what he needs. “if i were to say i’m in need of some insight on… a cultural origin, would you be the person to ask?”

Cass looks at the stranger, really looks at him. Humanoid, some cybernetic implants, not much for her to go off of. But she does realize one thing, he’s as nervous as her. That won’t do! She smiles, hoping to put both herself and him at ease. “Just Hugh then,” she shakes his hand.

“I can probably try,” is her response, “It’s a big place though and I’m not sure where everything is --” she is rambling again, time to rein it in and focus. She is here to learn and continue her research, part of which involves helping others find things. It’s time to do her job. Besides, the poor bloke in front of her seems to be having a hard enough time without her spooking him further by talking like a madwoman.

“Let me rephrase -- I will try my best,” this time speaking with more conviction, “If I am unable to assist, then I can certainly send you over to someone who can.”

“So, tell me a little bit about the culture you are wishing to investigate further,” she pulls up the database on her personal device and is poised to type in details.

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[v: mostly harmless] - HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY

Still alien, still came to earth thinking she was going somewhere very different. But has since dropped out of grad school (take that, grandmother!) and is living in a small town. Freelances for the hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy. 

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soongtypefrankenstein‌:

“ YOU AND YOUR DAMN PENZANCE! It’s Pirates of the Caribbean! Hell, I can replicate all the voices if you want! I might be able to dress up as a few characters!

Tell me the truth…..would I make a dashing Captain Salazar?”

“Well you’re no Davy Jones, I’ll say.”

“Fine, if you insist on it,” she sits down, “Go on then, re-enact it. Maybe then you’ll realize how incredibly WRONG you are.”

[rpcsource]

made this b/c mooood

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@soongtypefrankenstein​

Lore gave her a look that someone would probably give to a child who said something moronic.

“ FUH-LIM-FUH-LAM…..flimflam…..you know….nonsense? Or how about I use smaller, easier to process words since your squishy organic brain is basically useless jello at this point.”

He had heard the song with even more clarity than she probably did and it was OBVIOUSLY NOT the musical soundtrack to the film adaptation of The Pirates of Penzance.

“ You got the buccaneer movie wrong, dumb-dumb…..it’s CLEARLY Pirates of the Caribbean.

You know….duh duh duh duh dun dun dun dun duuuuuuuuun!”

“Pirates of the Caribbean?” she scoffed, “Most certainly not! That one goes tararatararataraa tararrraaaa. This one is clearly, tara-tarrrrrraaaa-taraaaa.”

She increased the volume to really drive home the point. Music was now blasting through every speaker in the ship.

“Like I said, PENZANCE!”

[hezenkoss]

is there any better genre of music than gay space shanty, really

[hezenkoss]

here

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varhanas‌:

@quintesscntial​ asked:  “ a man doesn’t run from a fight. but that doesn’t mean you should go running to one, either. ” (anyone you’d prefer, but what about artemis?)

                      the rifleman    //     always accepting !

     HE KNEW WHAT SHE’D MEANT. It was very clear to him. Yet still, something BUBBLED… Something flickered– nudged it’s way to the front of his mind.  Something boiling and unforgiving.  Don’t get him wrong— he was thinking clearly.               But who’s to say that a little playing around was BAD…. hm?     The skeletal being’s gaze slips languidly to that of the woman speaking to him. And something in the yellow lights within his eye sockets seemed to… shimmer with delight– in amusement.  It was uncertain however… whether that was out of malice or not.      “Well,  is it not quite FORTUNATE for me then,”  a deep baritone rumbles from the looming figure as he regards the other; arms folded neatly behind him,  “….That I am no MAN.”       Something akin to a smile twinkles within the expressionless skull he wore, and all venom in his tone seems to dissipate as quickly as it had appeared.  Or had it appeared at all?  It was difficult to tell sometimes, with this entity. Perhaps– he had been simply joking around the entire time..?       Artemis returns his gaze to the far distance; jawless skull tipping upward to the starry sky.   “Worry not for my sake… I run for no one… I don’t participate in the TURF wars of petty entities.” a pause; a moment of silence. And then, calmly… “ But if any are foolish enough to bring their chaos to my front step...    – There will be no hesitation in ending their existence.”  a tick, and– there’s a quiet laugh– “..Regardless…I recommend staying indoors tonight, madam.”

Cass wasn’t one to list wisdom as a strong personal attribute. No, that was the hallmark of all those other people in her life -- her grandmother, her mothers, professors, and even some friends. The list of people she would follow the advice of over her own judgement was quite extensive, but every now and then a thought would arise, surprising her in it’s profundity.

She is feeling quite pleased with that suggestion and may have missed a part of his speech while in that self-congratulatory moment. Time to focus on the conversation at hand, Cass. She smiles at the stranger, this entity (because that’s the only way she can describe him) should inspire fear and awe; and yet, all she feels is warmth. 

“I will drink to that, sir,” she quirks an eyebrow, “And given the weather,” thunder rumbles in the distance, as if on cue, “Staying indoors will not be a problem.”

“But before it’s time to leave, would you care for some company?” It’s a new world, she’s lonely. And has a task at do after all, complete her thesis, gather data, document stories. She takes a seat on an old chintz-patterned chair -- because wisdom is overrated sometimes -- and adjusts her woefully out-of-fashion skirt before saying, “WHAT do you sell here then?”

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`

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//how many more of these ‘you’ll know this if you’re a millennial’ type of articles can b.uzz.feed produce?And why do i keep reading them?

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“Can you look me in the eye and guarantee me this isn’t some kind of a flimflam? Because if it is, I am warning you–“

THESIS QUESTIONS || Accepting

@soongtypefrankenstein

FLIM-FLAM? Oh dear, is it one of those anthropological terms like acculturation, for e.g., that Cass keeps forgetting all the time? It’s really not her fault, it’s a very technical field of study and all those things usually fly out of her head when she’s in tense situations. 

No, wait, flim-flam does not sound like a typical anthropological term. It probably isn’t. Stop second-guessing everything, she chastises herself. 

“It’s not a – that word you just said!” It probably means a joke or something nonsensical, now that she has had time to think it through, “What I mean is, I’m being perfectly serious here. There is an audio signal coming from that uninhabited planet down there and it is the entire soundtrack of the 20th century motion picture adaptation of the 19th century Earth musical, THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE.”

[oopsiewoopsie123]

THE MUMMY (1999);

send one for my muse's reaction!

“You’re with me on this one, right?” “Your strength gives me strength.” “Hey! Don’t you close that door!“ “Oh, look at this! Sons of the pharaohs! Give me frogs! Flies! Locusts! Anything but you! Compared to you, the other plagues were a joy!” “My girl, when Ramses destroyed Syria, that was an accident. You… are a catastrophe!” “Why do I put up with you?“ “Have you no respect for the dead?” “Ha! [NAME], please, I’m really not in the mood for you.” “I have just the thing to cheer you up.” “Oh, no, [NAME], not another worthless trinket. If I have to take one more piece of junk to the curator to try and sell for you– Where did you get this?“ “I lie to everybody. What makes you so special?” “Could you tell me how to get there? I mean, the exact location.“ “Oh, I’m so sorry. Now we must watch him strangle to death.” “Well, personally I think he’s filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel. I don’t like him one bit.“ “Can you look me in the eye and guarantee me this isn’t some kind of a flimflam? Because if it is, I am warning you–“ “You’re warning me?“ “Oh, no. What are you doing here?” “I only gamble with my life, never my money.” “The only thing that scares me, [NAME], are your manners.” “Still angry about that kiss, huh?“ “Angry about that kiss? Well, if you call that a kiss.“ “Did I miss something? Are we– Are we going into battle?” “Um… by the way… why did you kiss me?“ “I was about to be hanged. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” “My good friend, you’re alive! I was so very, very worried.” “You always did have more balls than brains.” “Oh, for heaven’s sake, girl, it wasn’t that good of a kiss, anyway.” “Relax. I’m the map. It’s all up here.” “We’ve lost everything! All of our tools, all the equipment!” “Never did like camels. Filthy buggers. They smell, they bite, they spit. Disgusting.” “I think they’re adorable.“ “So, uh, what are these old mirrors for?” “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” “If I don’t make it out of here, don’t put me down for mummification.” “You don’t believe in curses?“ “I believe if I can see it and I can touch it, it’s real. That’s what I believe.” “Hey, tough stuff, try a right hook. Ball up your fist and put it– put it up like that. And then mean it. Hit it right here.“ “Okay, it’s time for another drink.” “Uh-huh. And unlike him, [miss/mister]… you, I just don’t get.“ “Ah. I know. You’re wondering… what is a place like me doing in a girl like this.” “Look, I– I may not be an explorer, or an adventurer, or a treasure seeker, or a gunfighter, but I am proud of what I am.” “I… am a [profession/being]. And I am going to kiss you… [NAME].” “Oh, I’ve dreamt about this since I was a little girl.” “That’s called stealing, you know.” “According to you it’s called borrowing.“ “It’s just a book. No harm ever came from reading a book.” “Damn it! It’s a trap door. There’s gotta be a switch or something around here someplace.” “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Whoa!” “I thought you said you didn't believe in that fairy tales and hokum stuff.” “[NAME], I appreciate you saving my life and all, but when I signed on… I agreed to take you out there and to bring you back. I have done that. End of job. End of story. Contract terminated.” “That’s all I am to you? A contract?“ “You can either tag along with me or you can stay here… and try and save the world! What’s it gonna be?” “Yes, that is very romantic, but what has it got to do with me?” “You can’t leave me behind like some old carpetbag.“ “Coward that you are! [NAME], you are not leaving me in here!” “What friend? You are my only friend.” “I’m goin’ downstairs, get me a drink. You want somethin’?” “Patience is a virtue.“ “Come with me, my princess. It is time to make you mine for all eternity.” “You better think of something fast, because if I’m turned into a mummy you’re the first one I’m coming after.” “Do something! Do something! Not that! Not that!” “Well, I guess we go home empty-handed… again.” “How ‘bout you, darling? Would you like a little kissy-wissy?”

[quintesscntial]

ncthingstars‌:

@quintesscntial​​  / s.c. !!

       “hello, i’m… sorry, i may have the wrong wing, but…” hugh pauses, peering into the work area. there’s only a single person in there now, and he has a sinking feeling that he’s made a mistake coming here. whatever resolution he hopes to find, despite admiral picard’s insistence that he should seek answers, is almost too terrifying, and he contemplates for a moment turning on his heel and walking right out the door. but he doesn’t — maybe it’s fear that keeps his feet rooted to the floor just as much as it makes him want to run. “cultural anthropology, right? i’m hugh.”

She is contemplating a quick nap while her coworkers scurry about in other parts of the institute when someone enters the room and dashes her dreams. Oh no, IT’S A WALK IN! Her biggest fear is about to be realized. Cass isn’t prepared for this moment just yet. Sure she has more than a rudimentary grasp of several civilizations in the alpha and beta quadrants and can cobble together some paper or another about a particular aspect over several weeks with some research. But there’s a level of comfort that needs to be present before she can do consultations and, frankly, she doubts she’ll ever get there.

“Er-- yes?” It comes out more as a question than a statement, “I -- um-- mean, yes, you are in the right place.” 

Standing up the desk, she speaks a little quickly in an attempt to mask her nervousness, “I’m Khasanada Dione, one of the new research fellows -- call me Cass, please. How can I help you, Mr. Hugh?”

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”The best chosen dress is that which so harmonizes with the figure as to make the raiment pass unobserved. The result of the finest toilet should be an elegant woman, not an elegantly dressed woman”

indie fandomless alien OC

About || Rules

[inksplit]

[quintesscntial]

bookburnt‌:

        “Uh.  I mean.”  He’s on holiday.  He’s on holiday.  He’s supposed to be on holiday.  He looks over at the woman who’s sat down across from him, with her notepad and pen and too-deep curiosity.  He sighs.

        “I was going to go to the beach,”  he says, a little wistfully.

     The beach is good. The beach is great! She hasn’t been yet. Gathering up her things, she replies, “Let’s go then!”

     Getting up just as a server stops at their table to drop off a basket of bread and olive oil, Cass informs him, “It’s alright, thank you for this, but we’re going to head to the beach instead .....” eyeing the assortment of breads, she pauses, “Er, I’ll just keep this one,” she picks a roll, “as a snack.”

“I’m Cassandra, but you can call me Cass,” she extends out the one hand not occupied with the task of holding her book and bread rolls, “I like Cass better, it’s more familiar.”

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@bookburnt​

“So, you’re telling me you don’t want to let me sit at this table and ask you questions?” 

She is sitting down anyway and pulling out a notepad and pen.