[ OPEN ]

[overanalytically]

WHO: Spock and you
WHERE: Wherever
WHEN: Throughout October
WHAT: Prompts under the cut, or am open to starting anything else as well!
WARNINGS: Violence in one prompt, will update if anything else


D E C H I M A
[ Today, you might find yourself at the De Chima library in search of a very specific book you're looking for. The computer says the book isn't checked out, but you're sure as hell aren't finding it on its assigned shelf either. When you walk out of the aisle, you'll come across a rather odd-looking guy with pointy ears and a bowl cut with piles of books and resources around him: anything ranging from theoretical mathematics and do-it-yourself home decorating to the stock exchange and histories of mass meat production.

But hey! In one of those piles, isn't that the book you're looking for? ]


H E R O P A
[ At some point in the month, Spock is on his way to the Porter after spending an evening at Heropa #11. It's rather late by now, the sun having gone down hours ago, leaving only the sparse illumination dotted along the streets and sidewalks by the street lights. Spock decided to cut through the park though, attempting to save time since he knows the red tape to those imPorts of unregistered status is as long as the deck of the Enterprise.

It's walking through there that Spock takes notice, not for the first time since he left Heropa #11, the small group of four following behind him, having closed the distance between them since he first saw them. Human, so far as he can tell in the dimmer sparsely-lighted park, but wait ... weren't there six of them before?

Just then, the missing two make their appearance in front of him, blocking the park path. Spock stops and unfolds his hands from where they were resting behind his back, bringing them to rest at the ready at his sides. He tries to glance in both directions, keeping both groups in his line of sight, but now they're fanning out and surrounding him.

Spock is more than a little concerned at this unexpected development, though his voice sounds as calm and clinical as ever. ] May I inquire if you gentlemen require some form of assistance?

[ Spock's barely gotten the words out when out of the corner of his eye, the man immediately behind him rushes forward. As he turns, he catches a glimpse of a ... glowing fist? Bright blue as if infused with some sort of energy, the light of it wrapped around the closed hand of the man as he rears it back to throw a punch at the Vulcan, shouting something along the lines of "filthy imPort elf".

Unfortunately, Spock turned at just the wrong time and at just the right angle—he manages to somewhat deflect the punch, but not stop its momentum at all. That glowing light must be some kind of power-enhancing ability, and it breezes by Spock's block, only being turned downward to the bottom of Spock's ribs. Spock hears and feels the sickening crack of his ribs, but then his mind is blank with pain and shock—that blow would have landed near a liver on a Human, but that's where a Vulcan's heart is.

Spock collapses to his knees under the force of the blow and shock to his system, gasping and griping at his side. Looks like he could use some help ... ]


O P E N
If none of the above suit your tastes, please feel free to make another starter and I will reply to it! You can also drop me a line on plurk (friends-only) or email if you'd like to hash something specific out. Always looking for more CR! :D

Comments

Heropa. Wow, how rude.

[redshoerevenge]

[Sometimes Mako walks Heropa just because she can and usually when she needs to clear her mind. It's not like De Chima's all that far away with the Porters or her wings, so, that's why she's in the neighborhood, stretching out her wings. By now, she knows there's trouble and in numbers. What she didn't expect was six on one.

The crack? That wasn't good. If there was one thing Mako knew how to do, it was to defend. She touched down rather neatly, her wings wide and curving around Spock as she considers her options.]

Six of you? [She asks quietly as shakes her head and turns her attention to Spock without really ever letting her guard down.] Do you need a lift or a hand? I've got both.

[overanalytically]

[ The thugs certainly didn't expect backup, let alone backup that would descend from above. They back away several steps in surprise, more hesitant to attack now.

Spock glances up from his place on the ground, his breath still coming in short bursts and his arm wrapped around his torso. It takes him a second to take in someone is offering him help and another second to recognize this person has wings. He gasps out as evenly as possible, ] As I have no desire for further violence, an exit would be greatly appreciated.

[redshoerevenge]

Then we should go. [He doesn't look very good at all as Mako drops down to offer him what stability she can. It's a good thing she's been practicing liftoff from different positions.] I will try not to cause you pain, but this may become unpleasant.

[Her words are soft and low, but quickly spoken. She offers silently to gather him up if he cannot stand and it feels distantly like being in Gipsy, gathering a boat from the water.]

[overanalytically]

It would be unavoidable even in more favorable circumstances.

[ He tries to muffle his grunt from the pain of just standing up, but at least he gets mostly upright if still mostly hunched over. He does reach out for her offered arm though, carefully avoiding skin contact if possible. His control over his telepathic barriers are pretty shot right now, but it would just be bad manners to invade the thoughts of someone trying to help.

Meanwhile, one or two of the thugs have shaken off their initial surprise and start to advance threateningly. ]

[redshoerevenge]

I apologize for this nonetheless.

[Considering their company is being rudely threatened, she does the only thing she can. Mako pulls him close with a soft please hold on, if you are able, though she scoops him up securely and with little effort. There's a slight moment of surprise as she does so, but she thinks it must be something to do with whatever power it is that make her able to punch a punching back through a wall. It is very Jaeger-like. As quickly and securely as possible, she launches them into the air with a sharp thrust of her wings.

Hopefully the attacking parties below did not follow. It would be more than unpleasant for everyone.]

HEROPA

[dendarii]

[ Fortunately, there's someone in the immediate vicinity ... Unfortunately that someone is Miles. Still, even his slight frame can be startling, especially when makes his entrance by going at one of Spock's assailants with a knife. He deals one a good slash across the chest, getting them to back off for a moment and allowing Miles to get between the thugs and Spock.

Well, between one superpowered thug, one injured thug, and two more behind them. Hmm. Miles doesn't like those odds. Especially not with Spock already down. That doesn't stop him from flashing the thugs a cheeky grin and spinning the knife in his hand. ]

Sorry, gentlemen, you'll have to find other sport. Pick on someone your own size.

[ Mentally, he's racing through possible plans here. If he can convince them to leave, all the better ... if not, he'd better come up with plan B, and fast. ]

[overanalytically]

[ The thug Miles slashed at yelps in surprise, backing up quickly which catches the attention of the other thugs long enough for Miles to move in. It's short-lived though, one of them snarling a choice insult about midgets, and another thug presumably without powers himself pulls out a switchblade himself.

Spock turns his face up at the familiar voice, his uptake of the situation slowed a bit by the trauma on his system. Once he takes everything in though, it becomes apparent his sass isn't affected at all, even if it does come out in gasps. ]

A particularly ironic—and possibly unhelpful—statement coming from you, Lord Vorkosigan.

[dendarii]

[ This is why he likes you, Spock. Miles can't help but grin down at the Vulcan even with the thugs surrounding them. ]

It's called irony, Commander. I'm quite fond of using it.

[ And then, back to the thugs: ]

You realize you're dealing with two imports now, I hope. And that I have access to my own arsenal.

[overanalytically]

[ One of them laughs, apparently the speaker for the group. ] "Yeah, you and that little knife you got there, little man?"

[ Spock meanwhile tries to get back on his feet, stumbling as he does. ]

You would make better use of logic, Lord Vorkosigan, and perhaps not goad them.

Heropa - is it ok if the Cat heals him?

[absentconstellation]

[ It isn't at an unusual for a gang of men looking for a fight to miss a small black cat in the dark of night. In fact, he's been here this whole time, watching.

Normally he wouldn't intervene in this sort of thing. He is a constellation with bigger concerns than those of petty, foolish humans. But he can see what the humans can't - that the Vulcan is in serious trouble.

Quite suddenly a blazing light fills the park, effectively blinding the humans. The Cat, still small and difficult to notice, lets out a roar like a lion. ]

Yes! 110% okay with healing

[overanalytically]

[ The thugs curse as they cover their eyes too late, backing up and practically falling over themselves when the loud roar follows. They disperse quickly enough in their fear of whatever it was helping the elf imPort.

Spock's face was thankfully turned down when the light blazed brighter so he's not as blinded by it. His arm is sill wrapped around his torso protectively when he glances up, eyes open ... but fogged over? The dark color and irises still visible, but there seems to be a thin skin over his eyes yet under his eyelids like some Earth lizards might have. It's these second eyelids that save his sight from the intense light, and he glances around for the source of both the light and the sound. ]

8Db

[absentconstellation]

[ Now that's interesting. He can tell from a glance that the two-legger is neither human nor immortal, but not more than that. He would like very much to know exactly how Spock works, but there's more urgent work at hand here.

To comfort the man he mews quietly, nuzzling his arm. This will go much better if he has immediate access to the affected area, and if his patient is at least marginally calm. ]

[overanalytically]

[ Other than the increased adrenaline, his injury, and the small jump of surprise at the contact with a creature apparently not a lion, Spock's outer demeanor is rather calm and even as if he wasn't just threatened at all. He glances down at the nuzzling, his second eyelids blinking back open to view his unexpected rescuer without hindrance.

His arms is cradling his ribs protectively, and his breath still catching as he asks hesitantly, ] Are you responsible for their rapid exit? [ He feels a bit silly talking to what looks like a normal Earth feline, but he's seen stranger things here. ]

De Chima

[snarkbot]

[ Skeets has Wi-Fi capabilities but every once in a while it's good to get other sources, anyone knows that. He's looking for a particular history of mid-20th century America, and he spots it in a pile. He zooms over, latching his little robot claws on it before he recognizes that it's not unattended.

The small gold robot retracts his arms. ]

Excuse the intrusion, sir.

[overanalytically]

[ Spock glances up when he heard the mechanical sounds, and while there's some surprise at being addressed in a library, he doesn't look all that surprised that he'd being addressed by a robot. (Not the the Vulcan looked surprised at all, but there are some tell-tale micro-expressions for those who noticed them). ]

No apology is necessary. Do you require assistance?

[snarkbot]

[ He moves to hover at eye height, which he considers more polite. ]

Not assistance, sir, but perhaps you'd be willing to spare one of your books? You do have an excessive amount to spare.

[overanalytically]

Of course. [ He subtly nods to the pile between them—a silent giving of permission to take any. ] Please pardon my possession of your item, I had simply not yet returned them to the appropriate shelves.

I may also have others of similar content. May I inquire of the subject?

Heropa!

[overemotionally]

[Jim is busy taking a quick look at the network while straightening up his bed. Spock had said he needed to go home for the evening and despite protests, left a mere ten minutes ago. He's already looking forward to moving in together soon so that won't be an issue.

He grabs a book that's folded over in the middle off of his bedside table to pick up where he left off. Only a paragraph in, a sickening dread settles over the bond, followed by a dark fear and sharp awareness of pain--though not directly perceivable to himself.

Jim sits bolt upright in his bed. That...was distinctly unpleasant to feel but its origins were more worrisome. Surely he could go after Spock, see if everything is okay. It hasn't been that long since he left...

He hops out of bed, throws on a pair of shoes and is out the door in less than a minute. Jim can sense the panic growing along their bond and he reaches out, searching, needing to know what's making Spock react like this. He follows Spock's usual route back, cutting through the park. It's there he sees a group of 6 surrounding the Vulcan, now on his knees. A jolt courses through him as he raises both arms to shoot stunner fire to take down two of the attackers.

A quick wave of his hand has Spock protected by a transparent blue bubble where the attackers can't reach him. By now, the other four's collective attention is focused on Jim. The usual attitude he would have is to challenge them, tell them he's taken down more at once before. But no. Not after what he felt across the bond. There's a smoldering fury building as Jim's voice is crisp and deadly serious.]

Back off or you'll regret it.

[overanalytically]

[ Even with as quickly as Jim heads out, it's still another minute or two until he arrives in the park, another minute or two left to the tender mercies of imPort-hating thugs. The panic Jim feels had grown when one of the thugs drew out a knife, Spock's mind whirling (though hazily with the shock to his cardiovascular system) with ways to escape this situation. He tries getting to his feet, stumbling a bit—and it's that moment the knife-thug takes advantage, stepping in from the side across from powerpunch-thug and swiping at Spock's unprotected stomach. He's back down to his knees when Jim arrives, back towards Jim so the new wound isn't readily apparent from that angle.

The stunner fire makes the still-conscious thugs stop in their tracks, the thug that slashed Spock spinning his knife and powerpunch-thug cracking his knuckles menacingly. ]

"Yeah, and what's it to you? You and your elf buddy're gonna pay for that."

[overemotionally]

[There are four left and he has no idea what kind of powers they have, but he certainly isn't going to give them a chance to demonstrate. He needed to get to Spock and get these clowns away from them...

Jim doesn't dignify them with an answer and creates two small walls behind two of the four still standing and smashes them together--taking the two in front of the walls with them and crashing them together with a sickening thud.

Jim aims two more shots of stunner fire at the last 2 standing for now, approaching cautiously but clearly anxious to get closer.]

[overanalytically]

[ The goons are down! If any of them had powers, none of them are apparently immune to stunners or head-on collisions with each other. They're either entirely unconscious on the ground or groaning pathetically as Jim approaches.

Spock remains on the ground, raising his head slowly as he hears someone approaching through the—is that a force field around him? He didn't even notice it going up. So that was Jim's voice he heard. He tries to straighten up, the small puddle of green by his knee becoming apparent as Jim gets closer. ]

DE CHIMA

[exonerated]

[ In this strange new world, one could often count the lack of knowledge as a sign of weakness. Edmund asked Lucy and her friends all he could about this world, the basics of it all and what troubles occurred just recently. He had plenty of them, too. He also would ask Lucy what she remembers of Earth, as well, of their vague memories of childhood that seems to follow them now that they are no longer on Narnian soil.

There are some things that still bother him, but there is only so much that Lucy can answer and he wouldn't trouble her much further, seeing as she has her duties as the apparent Ambassador of De Chima keeping her occupied. He doesn't let her hover much, and assures her that traveling alone sometimes is the best thing that he could do for himself. It's a strange new world, and he would sooner learn its idiosyncrasies than hide away.

He finds himself in the library, of course, because he has to start somewhere. It's a way to learn about things without bothering anyone else as well, so it suits him just fine, even if he is overwhelmed with the technology offered to him at first. It is beyond his time and comprehension, although someone was kind enough to teach him how to use the basics of a 'computer'. He adapts, as quickly as he's able to, and spends a vast amount of time in the library, greeding for knowledge, but currently with a specific theme in mind. Some things have been bothering him, now that he is here and away from his kingdom.

A couple of days later, and he eventually ends up exactly where a pointy-eared man currently stands, with piles of books surrounding him. The specific book that he's looking for is glaring at him from the top of a pile, waiting to be grabbed and read. ]

Forgive my intrusion, but you happen to have with you a specific book that I'd like read.

[ Specifically, it is a book on Operation Pied Piper: the British government's evacuation of English children during the second world war. ]

Would it be possible to take it off your hands, even for a moment?

[overanalytically]

[ Probably very different from the other pointy-eared creatures Edmund might have known from Narnia, the Vulcan glances up at the voice addressing him. ]

It is no intrusion as I had yet to replace it. You are welcome to it, of course.

[exonerated]

[ The way the man speaks does remind Edmund of Centaurs, however. Edmund smiles and nods as he grabs the book from the top of the stack. And it's a very huge stack, that he wonders how the man is able to find time to read them all. ]

Thank you. It was quite a journey, my attempt to find this book. Where I am from is different enough that I am not used to the machines that they have.

[ Primitive enough, as some men from the future would say. But Edmund is child of two worlds so to speak. He has some memories of technology of old, like typewriters and telephones. Adjusting here has not been as disastrous as it could have been. ]

It seems that you're attempting to read through the the library's entire collection. You have quite a pile with you.

[overanalytically]

I believe the most accurate description is that I am ... skimming the information within these resources. I have been attempting to catalogue the differences between the history of this reality compared to the Earth's history of my own. Thus far, it has proven to bear little difference save for the differences in technological advancements such as the imPort and nanite technology. As I had approximately two hours before other engagements took place, I believed it logical to continue my comparison in my spare time. [ He says all that as smoothly as a professor might, with as much if not more confidence behind his words as well. Big piles of books in his "spare time", indeed.

He tilts his head ever-so-slightly to the side though, considering Edmund and quickly glancing at the book he chose. His next question may sound vaguely insulting to anyone who happens to listen in on them, but Edmund will be able to see no sense of ridicule in Spock's neutral expression as he asks it. ] I presume that your reality of origin does not possess such technological advancements as the basic electronic device that stores and manipulates information, known as a computer?