From: Matt LaRocque (larocque.matt_at_gmail.com)
Date: Wed May 23 2007 - 14:39:11 PDT
=/\= "I don't even know" Con't from "Catching Up" =/\= Location: USS PATRIOT Stardate: 2422 [2.7] 0523.1737 Scene: McClellans Quarters Kel McClellan sat in the perpetual night he had created and let the complexity of nothingness wash over him. The past months he felt as though he had faded slowly into oblivion, into a sense of nothingness. He couldn't pinpoint why he felt as though he was a phantom, a mere ghost of the man he was. He shrugged off the notion, he much preferred self-destruction to introspection. Kel left the holodeck leaving the computer to terminate the sensory deprivation program he had running. He entered the turbolift and ordered it to ascend to Deck 2. He thought back to the last shore leave and his incident on the rock face as the doors opened. He entered his quarters and executed a Fozbury flop onto his chesterfield. The treacherous landscape of the Canadian Shield proved too treacherous, and he needed an emergency transport to prevent his mortality. He remembered the thoughts that raced through his head as he plummeted toward the forest floor. It was like a lucid dream, a memory from his youth. He was a right bastard back then, evil, opportunistic. A product of his father. He staged a break and enter with his two compatriots from those days, poisoning a pack of guard dogs and causing fatal injuries to an elderly woman over a safe that contained nothing more than old photographs. It wasn't why Kel was eventually caught, but it sure took the wind out of his sails. He felt like a ghost then too. The quarters were darkened, illuminated however dimly by the various external influences that were in or around SB1. Kel reached out above his head and feeling the neck of his antique Gibson, he carefully brought it in close to him and started strumming a tune. He became more and more involved in the song as time passed, eventually rising to his feet and thrashing on the fragile stringed instrument like it owed him money. Reaching a crescendo, he stopped with a suddenness and returned the guitar to its stand. He stalked his quarters for a few minutes, searching for a small wooden box. He found it on his bookshelf, behind his text on ancient Roman society. He tucked the box into a shoulder satchel and made his way to the keel shuttle bay. =/\= Scene: HRC Time Index: Shortly after Taylor's The guests at the party were in the midst of dining on their rations and Kel was still having the occasional chuckle with Daniel and Catherine about the prank. Truth be told, Kel preferred making food instead of choosing a replicated suggestion. It gave him the ability to be creative, go with the portions and measurements that he found to be appetizing while he was still bringing his meal to life. Besides, replicated barbecued steaks just struck him as a crime against all things good and righteous in the Universe. "You know, I always admired the Apple Crumbles they pack in these things." Kel shared with the couple while he opened his dessert portion. "This one time in my last life we ran out of food rations two weeks before we were scheduled to port. We came across some old wreckage from Maquis shuttle and found a few Starfleet issue R-4s in the haul. The chicken alfredo tasted like raw slugs and the salad portion had dissolved into a fine, inedible powder. But the Apple Crumble, divine." "Good to know that if I'm ever forced to eat outdated field rations I can still look forward to dessert." Daniel jested and all three shared some laughter. It was at this point Helice walked by. "Glad to see that we're having a good time. Is everyone enjoying their rations?" She asked with the warmth you'd expect from mom as you were tucking into Thanksgiving dinner. "Oh yes!" Catherine giggled, "We were just discussing how excellent the desserts are." Helice observed the contents of their rations and smiled in agreement. "Apple Crumble does hit the spot doesn't it although I'm more partial to the cheesecake. Kel, have you introduced yourself to our new crew member yet? I'm sure you could start getting acquainted with her technical know-how." Her smile crept up to her eyes and Kel couldn't help but grin, himself. He gave a quick glance to his friends and shrugged in jest, "No rest for the wicked." He left his seat and took his finished ration to the waste receptacle where he crossed paths with Maverick. "Major, be sure to let the cook know he owes me a meal." He mentioned half-jokingly in passing. "You and the rest of the people here." The marine retorted. Kel broke into yet another grin as he continued in his search for the new crew member. He read that she was Caitian earlier in the week, and wondered how she was settling in since she didn't have any clearance whatsoever. That thought was soon interrupted however when he nearly walked right into the new crew member. They had spent some time talking, mostly discussing food and drink in the absence of both. After some talk about their past and their experiences in the Academy, Kel excused himself from the party and returned to his quarters only to fall asleep on his couch reading a digital copy of "The Prince". =/\= NRPG: I can't believe I've tried to spend the better part of the week trying to make this post not suck. Anyway, I'm back online, so I'm ready to go for the next mission assuming I remember how to tell a story between now and then. Hoping I'm super busy for this next one, the bars here are just too hot and tempting and I don't start work until Monday. I should add a late hello to our new crew as well. I'm just going to hit send now and stop thinking about this one, better to publish something than nothing. I don't even think it's cohesive with the timeline, but this one was like a gargoyle or something. Just need to get it out there and move on. Matt LaRocque Lt. J.G. Kel McClellan Strategic Operations Officer USS PATRIOT NCC 5781-A From HyperNews_at_youth.net
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