#he1msman

[respondedinkind]

@he1msman cont. [x]

Khan hates to admit that the other is right. He hates it with every fiber of his being, with every nerve-ending existing within his fingertips, with every breath that's taken and every braincell that seems to fail him at this very moment.

Granted, he's suffering from a concussion; A mild one, however. It's just giving him a headache, a spell of gentle, steady dizziness, nothing one couldn't work with. Nothing he, of all people, couldn't work with. And yes, he should have long figured out how to make this escape pod work under the given circumstances.

"Something is off with it. The entirety of this pod.", he comments, a frown stretching over his dirty features; A hand comes up to wipe across his forehead, leaving another stain as he starts to dismantle one section of the thing... again. As he has done before.

He feels betrayed by his own intellect, and starts to question absolutely everything regarding this pod... and his own sanity.

"---Because it should have worked by now. It makes no sense that it does not. Are you sure this thing has ever worked to begin with?"

[galaeus]

@he1msman / continued from this.

Hikaru is not the first to insinuate such a feat. You're lucky. Echo knows the phrase all too well. Glory in the form of money that isn't her own, curated looks and a dazzling smile; a beautiful fool gets far in life. Without worry about finances (so long as she behaves) or if she's going to get her foot in the door (someone always answers) she's one of the lucky ones.

Maybe that's why she's so quick to throw a punch. If she's so damn lucky, then she'll get away with it. And, if she's so lucky, then those bastards won't try to talk shit again.

"Yes, Dr. Sulu," she sarcastically chides, pulling her injured hand to her chest to cradle it. Echo doesn't mind the throbbing pain crawling up her arm. If anything, she's a junkie for that kind of sadism. The other guy must be sniffling over his red solo cup at the frat house. The image alone makes the thrum worth it.

When he suggests this interrogation will go both ways, the brunette snorts and settles against the hood of his car beside him. "I like driving. You like pretending you're Evel fucking Knievel. Big difference."

Still, an explanation nags at the back of her mind. She owes him, in a way, for getting her out of dodge. Whether she's willing to provide truth or fiction is up for debate. Echo chews on her lower lip, absent in her stare towards the city lights.

"All he's done since freshman year is run his mouth," she cryptically provides, softer this time. "Only so much bullshit you can spout before someone shuts you up. He... brought up some things." Damn. So much for not being obvious. She glances over to Hikaru with a knowing gaze. "Made some comments about someone who didn't deserve it. That's all."

[fyrewalks]

"Remember, if I give you a thumbs up, means we are in deep shit, okay?" // @he1msman

The appropriate response, if sticking to proper procedure and protocol, is certainly not a smile. It's effective communication; it's proper signals. Jim, as expected, is just fine side stepping protocol in favor of adapting to the planet's level of technology. Hell, he looks for any reason to ignore the handbook sometimes, but it is a bit easier when his disregard is warranted. Whipping out their comms is sure to catch more attention then a simple thumbs up.

"Wait," Jim hisses, catching Sulu before he leaves the relative safety of the alley that they've ducked in. "Shouldn't it be a thumbs down? It's less confusing." As if the direction of his thumb truly matters; Jim will know there's trouble regardless. He just doesn't like the idea of sending out a friend while he waits here.

[nursc-arc]

@he1msman asked : [ACCIDENTAL MARRIAGE] a starter where our muses wake up to find out they got married the night before

life in space is never simple. predictability flew off the window along with rationality and common sense. most of the time, christine learned, you just got to roll with the punches. no matter how weird things might seem at first glance, it is wise to refrain from asking questions when a nebula is trying to kill you. when her patients roll into sickbay with impossible injuries, or diseases that don’t even carry names yet, she allows for only a fraction of a second to soak in the weirdness of the situation before accepting her new reality.

the thing is — her new reality usually includes tentacles, maybe a limb that wasn’t there before, and on more memorable occasion, a complete species swap. what is happening here? it was not in any pamphlet or instructional video. no, it was… if she was more awake she could come up with some sort of catchy metaphor, but as she stirs, with a splitting headache, smart word-play is the last thing on her mind.

each time she blinks, she gains a little more awareness, not just from her surroundings, which are hazy and unfamiliar so far, but also of her own body. her head throbs, but she is in one piece.

actually… she is part of a two-piece, she realizes, feeling a flutter of movement behind her, warmth — body warmth, good god, radiating at her back from where someone is spooning her.

christine swallows dry, but stays quiet, sparring a glance to her body, and then a quick prayer when she realizes she is fully clothed, before tilting her head back. teeth dig into her bottom lip, half-anticipation, half-precautionary measure to keep herself from reacting, moving inch-by-inch, dread drawing each every movement until she is face-to-face with familiar, hazy brown eyes.

❛⠀⠀ umm... hi? ⠀ ❜

𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

[doctordonovan]

013. a great ballroom during an elegant party

it’s not that she minds these events: in truth, she truly does not. they are such fascinating spectacles - colourful and lively, full of movement and brief insights to those around her. there is plenty to be seen && plenty to be learnt, if only it were so easy to not be perceived in return. yet glass of spring wine remains untouched, shifted between hands simply to occupy anxious fingers, romulan all too aware of the gazes her very existence brings even when she does her best to exist out of the way.

not long more, science officer internally repeats like mantra, then she’ll have stayed long enough there will be no insult in her leaving. 

then again, maybe she should have thought ahead enough to wear a white flag. ❝ the chandelier alone is older than most treasures on earth. ❞ maeve comments softly, a passing observation when familiar face makes way over to spot leant against wall, ❝ quite the hosts, they’d be disappointed you’re not with the masses @he1msman. ❞

[elencr]

´ ･ .  ✶ ━━      if it wasn’t one thing.  it was another on board the enterprise.  scotty was losing his mind over why the environmental controls on board were suddenly going hay wire.  life support hadn’t been affected but the engineer was panicking that it could be next.  for now  ,  the temperature control had been the only to go kaput. 

                           a weary grin crossed ellie’s lips as she handed sulu his mug of hot chocolate.  “  i’m not built for this kind of temperature.  ”  ellie grumbled  ,  adjusting the beanie that rested on top of her head.  she had her hands full in the mess hall  -  the amount of cocoa powder she gone through that morning was incredible and star fleet would probably have questions about why she ordered so much of it when they next dock.  she was just lucky that both the coffee AND tea hadn’t been depleted yet.  “  but i’ve got you covered.  soup on the menu for today.  did you want any  ?  ” 

╰   ––––––– ✧   @he1msman​​​      :      asked      ❨        i'm freezing.         ❩˙

[galaeus]

@he1msman / "Who're calling nothing special?" College au!

"Me!" It blurts out faster than she can stop it. A belated breath later and she realizes what she's said -- what she's done. Nothing between them is real. It's a give and take, a means to a finish line she continues to drag along the sidewalk like their project is some heavy, unsolvable burden. Except it's the opposite: they could have finished this project ages ago if she would just sit down and do her part. He could have finished it three times over by now, but duo participation had been required.

In the last few weeks, he'd seen some of the ugliness in her life painted over with lipstick and hazed out by the copious amounts of well-water liquor. Hell, she's hazy from the liquor she's drank tonight, and the fact that he's showing up at her dorm room at all on a weekend has completely stripped her of her fortress guarding her thoughts. Letting him inside had been a terrible idea.

Now she can't stop talking.

"Jesus, Hikaru, you know we'd both be lying if I said I was talking about you. I mean look at you." Echo flops to her dorm bed, gesturing him with lackadaisical hands. "I'd kill to have a brain like yours. You have friends, and they actually like you. And..."

Trailing off, the young woman deflates and shakes her head, rubbing the heel of her palm into her left eye. "...and I don't know what the hell I'm saying. Why the hell did you come over unannounced again?"

[ensnchekov]

"Paaaav!" Hikaru calls, body practically vibrating. His steps hurriedly cross over the threshold into the other man's room and he shoves the PADD into his face. "Look! They're launching the new stealth shuttle tomorrow. We have to go!" Sulu's face radiates the warmth of the sun, brown eyes sparkling. "It's going to be epic."

Pavel barely has time to set his cup down on the nearest surface—the edge of his bed—before the PADD is thrust into his face, eclipsing all else save for the light of the screen and text that blurs into indecipherable glyphs at this distance.

"I cannot read it that close, you know that!" he half-huffs, taking the PADD from Hikaru's all-too-excited hands to confirm the details for himself, eyes skating side-to-side across the screen.

When he makes it to the time and location, his eyes light up. "There is no way we are missing this," he says, holding the PADD out for Hikaru to take. "I cannot imagine why the captain would need us tomorrow, but between the two of us, we have enough holiday to take off the next"—he hums, quickly running through the time off he has consistently neglected to take—"three months, at least."

He grins. "If he tries to say no, we can always invite him along too. You know he would be just as interested."