#lalamoon

[prettytm]

@lalamoon And you're officially one of my new favorite people. I see you share that spark of dark, madness. And I love you for it.

[mcflymemes]

Would there be any chance there could be some Dune memes? I know we are a very tiny part of the rpc, but you make such excellent ones! But if that's just too huge an investment for a media you're not into, no worries! Thanks for all you do, regardless! <333

perfect idea, my friend! here you go! thank you for the suggestion, and i hope you enjoy! thanks for being so sweet!

[endeavvor]

“ Their cruelty to my people is all I've known. ”

Dune: Part One Prompts

Not for the first time is Kirk forced to ask himself what he truly knows of these people. Only what is written in the texts by those that have attempted to carve a hole through them. There is no curiosity in the words, it is purely scientific in a way that reads like a dissection.

It is telling.

He thinks of what he's come to learn in the few days he's spent here amongst them in a brittle peace. How many times did he chide Spock that not everything could be learned in a book, yet fell into the same mold. He relied upon what was comfortable, and because of it, he is falling short.

Kirk has not yet earned his way, and though he can tell this makes them hesitant to him. His time is borrowed on the back of a promised ally. Though, to earn his place would be a fight to the death, senseless without challenge. A robbery of the people he's trying to know.

Logically, he knows it is necessary.

His hands are clasped behind his back, to still them from reaching out and touching anything as they pass, or offering things to the children that are seen - determined to be brave or seek a glimpse of an outsider, whose eyes are so blue they suspect he's one of them, save for the white still visible around them - hide behind their mother's legs, or immediately dart back out of view into familiar outcroppings.

Mostly, it is her side he is kept to: Layla El-Faouly. He catches her eye every time he does something that marks him considerably as an outsider. Tugging at the neck of his stillsuit, a gift from her people that is not yet broken in or comfortable against his skin. Even shielding his eyes from the unrelenting sun. It did not matter if he came from a desert planet of his own, it paled in comparison to Arrakis - whose sand was lighter and reflected heat worse.

It reminded him only how much comfort had been taken for granted, and how ashamed he was of the thought of returning to the house they were to occupy. It was fitted with large tanks to store fresh water so the S'Chn T'Gai household would not go without. His cheeks colored with it now, but could be mistaken for his fairer skin becoming overheated.

"Often," He starts to speak, surprised when his voice cracks from disuse. Nothing is wasted here, not even words. "I think people mistake cruelty for power. They think it instills servitude, but only breeds rebellion." A shrug, he should make another pass here, stress the importance of the alliance he's come to foster, but doesn't. Nor does he show his own scars from such cruelty, but he does give, just a little. "I know of their cruelty too. They took my brother from me, and maybe his death was a kindness, considering everything he went through before it, but it doesn't make me any less angry about it."

@lalamoon

[ensnchekov]

“If you’re failing to comprehend Mister Spock’s disregard to that Outpost Chucklehead’s indignation, Ensign - it’s because our First Officer has simply made the logical deduction that this man is a goddamn liar.”

That much was obvious. "I would be more surprised to hear there was even a modicum of truth in any of those words." Pavel glares at the man's retreating form, folding his arms over his chest like he was the one who has been personally wronged.

People like him have always rubbed Pavel the wrong way, lying as if the truth has gone out of fashion, like it is both a sport and a requirement to live. It is people like them who thrive on making the lives of those around them far more difficult and he has dealt with enough of those types in his life.

"Mister Spock is not wrong in his deduction. What is it about a uniform and a title that makes people think they can do whatever they like?" Perhaps it is because the law somehow never truly applies to them.

"Anyway, we should go before he decides to come back and bother us next."

[ensnchekov]

“Why is any object we don’t understand always called a ‘thing’?”

Pavel arches a brow, letting his expression of surprised disbelief say everything that his self preservation instincts force him to bite back.

"And what would you rather we call it?" Pavel asks, bewildered. "It is a temporary classification so we can still refer to it in some way that makes sense. And it is much easier to say than, the unknown object directly ahead of us at X coordinates."

Pavel looks at said spherical thing that towers over them covered with writings and markings he has never seen before and hums. "There is nothing wrong with calling it a thing. You know what the word means, yes? It is an object that cannot or has not yet been given a proper designation." And in this case, thing is the only applicable way to describe it.

He pulls out his tricorder. "But maybe a scan will reveal some more information about it."

[ensnchekov]

“What the hell is happening in Engineering?”

Pavel glances over his shoulder toward the Engineering bay doors. The muffled sounds of shouting and raucous laughter slip through the seal and Mister Scott's loud, infectious laugh rings out over them all, quickly followed by a few words he struggles to make out.

In what has been a nice change of pace, the rare calm that does not herald a coming storm, there are no imminent threats, no failing systems, no fires starting faster than the team can scramble to put them out. The comment about tempting the winds of fate still echoes in the back of his mind, and though Pavel is determined to enjoy the celebrations with the rest of the team, he expects their fortune to change at the drop of a hat.

It would not be the first time.

"Most of the team is gathered to celebrate AーLieutenant Radke's birthday. So do not worryーthat screaming is not cause for alarm." Well, not unless Mister Scott has his wayー

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Day XV ~ In the Lane, Snow is Glistening @lalamoon

Beth had promised Layla that they would do American Christmas with all the bells-and-whistles and in the same way she first experienced it, too. It helps that the morning had dawned cold and grey and wrapped in a blanket of thick fog that obscured city streets, the various harbours, and even most of the Verrazzano bridge. Beth wakes up early enough that she has the kitchen to herself. Though she's never made anything edible, breakfast isn't her purpose for being there. She takes down a specific copper tea pot inscribed with runes and fills it part way with water. She sets it on the stove and takes down a small broom made of hazel stave and birch branches for bristles. It radiates the same sweetness of cinnamon as her breath. She dances with it, not actually sweeping, as the kettle warms and only stops when it begins to whistle. A few moments later, the faint rain outside becomes a light snow fall that will continue until the day after Christmas. 'Tis the season, after all, for a little coincidental storm. By the time Layla makes her appearance ~a little groggy and with curls springing everywhere, which if Beth was honest about it, she's completely envious about it~ Beth is pushing a cup of coffee in her hand and smiling impishly. "So here da kine. We gonna start wi' coffee or chai an' pastries a' my hanai-sistah's shop. You gonna love her, really. We been bes' good friends since her freshman year a' Columbia. Mos' of her stuff is Kosher or Halal an' what no is…make you grateful for a small sin," Beth winks as if that is all the evidence needed. "Den I figure we can go shoppin' at Winter Village an' aftah, ice skating! Or we could skate first den shopping, so we don' leave our stuff unattended. Lunch…den more shoppin' at Union Square Holiday Market. We gonna wanna find dat guy dat sell roasted ches'nuts. Gonna wanna narrow down which of da half-dozen soup kitchens we volunteer at, deliver coats an' presents for da women's shelter in da kitchen, an' we're helpin out Sean Casey an' Social Tees animal rescues. Dey doin' free adoption an' spay-neuter program for da holidays. But really we can do dese t'ings in any order ja'like." She pauses as she reviews her mental list, trying to think if she forgot anything. "Oh, den dere's da big sleep. We do a giant cuddle puddle in da livin' room…right dere…" she points to the eight foot tree by the floor to ceiling windows. Some time during the night Andy had moved most of the furniture to accommodate the variety of air-mattresses, pillows, sleeping bags and blankets that they would all be using. She doesn't remember how or when the tradition started, only that it's been a feature all of her life and not one they were about to put the breaks on. "So if you nevah have pyjamas or some kine to wear, we should get you some or you can borrow a pair of sweats from Jay an' a tee-shirt from Panda…I mean…Andy." Beth pauses to take a breath again. "I t'ink dat's it, but really is up to you, ya know. Wanna make dis da bes' good Chris'mas you can have here."

[brooklynislandgirl]

💦 what’s their immediate post-orgasm reaction?

Sigils of Modern Desire || Accepting "I'll hafta tell you when I actually have one," Beth says matter-of-fact, though she does have the decency to not quite look her friend in the eye. Something in between her words though there seems to be a strain of scepticism. Layla says it's what girls do. They talk about things like this and offer advice and commiserate with one another. Beth takes it as gospel. She has a few female friends and it has been her experience that some questions do come up. She just doesn't usually have anything to contribute. She also knows Layla is hunting for information. Anything she can do to help Beth socially, maybe with a particular vigilante system. She really doesn't think she's Marc's type. Not that she blames him. Things are just...complicated. No one has the time or desire for that much effort then, when they have so much on their plate already. "Gonna go ahead and say if it's anyt'ing like da lead up, at least from my own point of view? Massive disappointment an' a desire t' go drown in da shower. Mebbe more beddah we go dancin' or jus' stick t' like real long distance romance." ~*~ Beth doesn't know. She's tried a time or two but hasn't been able to get herself where she was trying to go. She thought the situation was sticky, pointless, and more or less a waste of time and energy. She can't imagine that she would be much fun for anyone else, either. If Layla comes away with any information from this? It should be that Beth has all the self confidence of a banana slug, and needs to get out of her house a little more.