#trekverse

[slopofaarix]

What do you get when you cross a Vulcan and a Ferengi? Tactical officer [name pending] is what and she's a fucked up albino full of implants to make her less fucked up. Period-inaccurate uniforms from my 20-years-after-DS9 AU where bridge officers are allowed to have anime hair. It's ok she can see through those bangs with her cyber eyes.

They really did not design starfleet uniforms with cardassian necks in mind did they. Oh well scienceboy [name pending] is making it work. Ended up in starfleet because the prophets told him to and also he has nothing else going for him. Contrary to first impressions he's not the one in this image who can throw you around like an inflatable pool toy.

They look like those feratu.... A tall glass of snail BLOOD please

[tennyrudeandnotginger]

Continued from here.

@theocampanurse​

“You want to watch me count bacteria in this soil sample sample?” kes asked looking up. She had already lost count again and was half tempted to just say screw it and let the bacteria die by scanning it with a tricorder.

“Oh! No, actually. Don’t want to be in your way.” The Time Lord backed up until he was quite a few meters away from the woman. Cpt. Janeway didn’t have a problem with him being on board, but he didn’t want to be a nuisance. Well...no more than he probably was as usual, given his non-stop gob and natural curiosity.

[tennyrudeandnotginger]

‡

He was a bit of a ways from the TARDIS, so the Doctor accepted the offer of a bed at the hotel. He only intended to snooze for -- what, an hour, two hours tops? -- and then rise to return to his ship. 

In his fog of half-asleep, half-awake, he gazed through narrowed eyes at the soft, blue glow of the night light a few yards across from his bed. His brown pin-striped suit, Oxford shirt, tie, and vest top lay over the back of a chair just next to the window, and he could see their heavy, flat shapes in the darkness. Just next to the chair, his cream-coloured trainers were barely visible on the carpet: he stared at them, their mouths open where his feet had been less than ten minutes ago, before letting his heavy lids drift closed.

As he had just drifted into sleep, he didn’t hear the door to his room open at first, but the shifting of the bed -- and the new weight pressing down next to him -- stirred him awake. Quickly turning under the duvet, he stared at the shape of another humanoid in the darkness.

@thedoctorjameskirk

[tennyrudeandnotginger]

‘rough touch’

8. My muse grips your muse’s hips. 

Send ‘rough touch’ and the generated outcome will be used for a small drabble scenario or starter { tw violence, possible noncon/dubcon implications, nsfw }

The Doctor had found out, too late, that he’d just downed a bottle of ginger beer. His head was already starting to swim, and a feeling of giddiness bubbled up within him. 

Feeling a little adventurous (as well as his normal inhibitions well out of the way) he grabbed the dark-haired stranger standing next to him by the hips. “Aye, yer the best lookin’ man en the entire bar,” he drawled in a low voice, a bit of Scottish accent now creeping into his voice. “Ye feel like gettin’ oot there en dancin’?”

@imadoctornotanimmortal

[tennyrudeandnotginger]

Closed Starter for archaeologyanddiplomacy

archaeologyanddiplomacy

The Doctor decided this time to let the TARDIS take him where she wished. He was tired of fighting against the limpid yet impenetrable skin between this universe and his own. His mind hurt from ramming it against the problem, and he sorely needed a break.

After the TARDIS landed, he ran his fingers up through his hair, splaying the already unruly collective of skyward-reaching russet brown spikes into a more chaotic mess. As he leaned over the console’s instruments and peered at their readings through his specs, his eyes enlarged in shock at what he saw.

“Wot?” 

He swept his gaze over the readings one more time before glancing up and switching on the monitor. Sure enough, he’d landed inside a small...office of some sort, perhaps a captain’s ready room? And as he swept the monitor’s view around the outside, he noticed a bald man in a Starfleet command uniform, sitting at the desk.

“Why’d you land me here?” he demanded, looking up into the time rotor column, but his ship nudged back at him with a hint of amusement. He sighed heavily, then straightened up to his full height and checked his pinstriped suit jacket pocket for his sonic and psychic paper. “Well, here goes. Hope they don’t throw me in the brig for this little stunt, eh? Right, then. Allons-y!”

And with that, he bounded down the ramp and threw open the TARDIS doors. 

“’Ello...Captain. So sorry to barge in on you like this -- I seem to have landed here quite by mistake. Can you direct me to the nearest starbase instead?”

[tennyrudeandnotginger]

The Away Mission || Closed Starter for Positronicuriosity

positronicuriosity

The Doctor let out a long heavy sigh as the TARDIS materialised. This last attempt at crossing back over into N-space had failed, and he’d been forced to land lest the TARDIS sustain major damage.

Cursing under his breath in Gallifreyan, he reached up and tangled his fingers in his hair as he leaned over the console. “I don’t bloody believe this,” he murmured as he punched up the visual from outside on the monitor.

But when lush green tangles of broad, thin, waxy leaves appeared on the screen, curiosity wound up in a vibrating coil and seized his mind. Changing the monitor view, it displayed a wide angle shot of tall, willowy trees and a shimmering beige strip of sand curved like a spine against the edge of a bright cyan ocean.

“Well, this could be right interesting,” he mused aloud. After checking the other instruments and finding atmospheric conditions acceptable, he dove his slender hand into his brown pinstriped trouser pocket, mumbling to himself as he drifted his fingers around until they touched his sonic screwdriver and psychic paper.

“Right then. Off we go. Allons-y!” He spun around and bounded down the ramp. He pulled the TARDIS door open and stepped outside…

only to see a humanoid with very pale gold skin, in a mustard-coloured Starfleet uniform, standing and staring at the TARDIS from a few meters away.

[gotnothinleft]

Y-yes sir... *quickly jumps to attention nervously*

[In an absolutely foul mood, Leonard slams his hand into the comm button.]

McCoy.  Get security down here to recover a phaser they failed to report missing.

[He turns back around.]

And you.  For one, I'm confining you to quarters for the foreseeable future and I'm contacting your superior officer about what he wants to do about this, but first I'm giving you a psych eval along with your regular medical eval.

[Because god forgive him if 'space happy' wasn't just something he'd said and he ignored a call he should have made because he was pissed off.]

For two, if you ever bring another phaser into my sickbay without a damned good reason, I will call down every bit of influence I have on your head and have your ass grounded so fast your head will spin.

[In base honesty, this is probably untrue, but.  He's angry.]

[gotnothinleft]

*points phaser to ground* Don't you dare come near me.

[Well, there's something.  Not totally goddamn unreasonable.  Bones' voice doesn't get any less your-father-telling-you-off, doesn't inch any closer to the pure irritation running through his veins, but his jaw does get remarkably tighter, and his hand flips out, palm up, to sit a foot in front of his chest, an unmistakable give-it-here gesture that carries the approximate authority of an alternate universe in which he, and not Jim, is Captain.

People tend to listen when he makes these sorts of gestures.]

   Now hand it over, you space-happy fool, and sit your ass down.  I'm a damn doctor, there's a reason I swore to 'do no harm'.

[Although, at the moment, he is tempted.]