Post by Judith Eastman on Jul 1, 2021 16:41:51 GMT
In accordance with that POTM reform we did, voting starts now. Thank you everyone who submitted noms - we have six!
Please find the form for July's POTM noms here.
Last but not least, we have an honorable mention, a post from an admin that got nommed, but can't win, because it's by an admin. They're always a nice gesture for us admins to receive!
As usual, balloting will go on for 48 hours, until 10 AM PDT on Saturday, July 3rd. If we need a runoff, we'll have a runoff.
Please find the form for July's POTM noms here.
{Submission #1, by Kova Sh'qaleq, is in the Down Time thread Some Assembly Required}Here's what the nominator wrote:
Here's the post itself:
This was a mistake. Coming here with Syl. Kova wasn't certain what was happening. What malfunction had occurred and was assaulting the young pilot. Whatever the glitch was, it was invisible... undetectable. Kova started to reach for her, but Syl seemed to be frantically pulling first at her helmet and then at the harness that she wore. "S-syl?" Kova uttered. Yet, even the Andorian wasn't certain if she had actually spoken or merely mouthed the words.
The Andorian was frozen in place. For what felt like an eternity, she simply stood there watching, wondering what she should do. She considered calling for medics to report, but Syl didn't appear to be physically injured, despite her antics. Perhaps what she needed was a counselor. It'd certainly be the first time Kova could conceive of an actual use for them. And then, perhaps she needed nothing. Kova did think about simply leaving Syl here alone... with her thoughts. Sometimes, one needed simply time to themselves to work matters out. Kova had taken a single step back before she froze, the prevailing thought being that humans were different.
She rolled her eyes at the tiny voice in her mind, urging her not to leave. After all, what did it really know? It knew that Syl hadn't abandoned her when that riot broke out. It knew that she didn't just let Syl bleed out at the hands of Solon. It also hadn't let Syl come to the holosuite alone. And it wasn't inclined to leave her there alone now. An annoyed mumble left Kova's lips. Not necessarily annoyed with Syl, but likely with Kova herself giving this as much thought as she had.
The Andorian followed her towards the pavement, as she stared out at the mountain range. She wasn't sure what Syl was doing there... or perhaps she pretended not to know. The Andorian's hand rose slightly. It first hovered just behind Syl's shoulder and then over the human's head. Which was more appropriate to pat supportively? She eventually moved to stand beside Syl, attempting to discern what she was possibly focusing on, ignoring her tear-stained face. "So, I take it we're done with the gliding?" She simply stood there for a moment before finally speaking once again. "Would you prefer we visit the river instead?"
You can read the post in context here.
Kova dealing with a human having a panic attack. 'Nough said.
Here's the post itself:
[Kova Sh'qaleq - Holosuite]
This was a mistake. Coming here with Syl. Kova wasn't certain what was happening. What malfunction had occurred and was assaulting the young pilot. Whatever the glitch was, it was invisible... undetectable. Kova started to reach for her, but Syl seemed to be frantically pulling first at her helmet and then at the harness that she wore. "S-syl?" Kova uttered. Yet, even the Andorian wasn't certain if she had actually spoken or merely mouthed the words.
The Andorian was frozen in place. For what felt like an eternity, she simply stood there watching, wondering what she should do. She considered calling for medics to report, but Syl didn't appear to be physically injured, despite her antics. Perhaps what she needed was a counselor. It'd certainly be the first time Kova could conceive of an actual use for them. And then, perhaps she needed nothing. Kova did think about simply leaving Syl here alone... with her thoughts. Sometimes, one needed simply time to themselves to work matters out. Kova had taken a single step back before she froze, the prevailing thought being that humans were different.
She rolled her eyes at the tiny voice in her mind, urging her not to leave. After all, what did it really know? It knew that Syl hadn't abandoned her when that riot broke out. It knew that she didn't just let Syl bleed out at the hands of Solon. It also hadn't let Syl come to the holosuite alone. And it wasn't inclined to leave her there alone now. An annoyed mumble left Kova's lips. Not necessarily annoyed with Syl, but likely with Kova herself giving this as much thought as she had.
The Andorian followed her towards the pavement, as she stared out at the mountain range. She wasn't sure what Syl was doing there... or perhaps she pretended not to know. The Andorian's hand rose slightly. It first hovered just behind Syl's shoulder and then over the human's head. Which was more appropriate to pat supportively? She eventually moved to stand beside Syl, attempting to discern what she was possibly focusing on, ignoring her tear-stained face. "So, I take it we're done with the gliding?" She simply stood there for a moment before finally speaking once again. "Would you prefer we visit the river instead?"
You can read the post in context here.
{Submission #2, by Kova Sh'qaleq, is in the Event}Here's what the nominator wrote:
Here's the post itself:
Kova wasn't used to the sort of attention that Vaken was giving her. Though it was obvious that he took his dedication to (her) service very seriously. As he bowed and presented the item to her, Kova wasn't sure if taking it would be the safest thing. Ic was the one that reached for the item. Kova wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next, but clearly this gratitude and politeness that Commander Ellis had suggested was far more dangerous than she had led them to believe. "Um... thanks," Kova said as she backed away.
Ic seemed to concede the direction of where to go next to the rest of the team. Kova read over the the clue. It seemed obvious enough where to go. As Shavan mentioned the park, Kova nodded. "But what about the first line: If plants could talk? Are we supposed to find a tree with a sign?" Naturally, when Shavan mentioned that there was a plant that could talk, Kova was not sure if she was supposed to take him seriously. Then, he mentioned it being telepathic. "Telepathic plants? Really? " Kova simply shook her head and then turned towards Ic. "I guess that means you're up."
As Shavan began to lead the way, Kova cast one last glance back towards Vaken's direction before joining the rest of her team towards the turbolift. Shavan's words to the young Betazoid hadn't gone unnoticed. As they waited for the lift, Kova simply rolled her eyes. "Finish the race first, fornicate later," she said, hoping to keep her team on track. As the lift arrived, Kova stepped inside and waited for the other two to join her. "Deck Six."
You can read the post in context here.
It's classic Kova, how she handles a situation then that comment about 'finish first fornicate later" had me in stitches 🤣
Here's the post itself:
[Kova Sh'qaleq - Twilight Hotel & Casino --> Turbolift]
Kova wasn't used to the sort of attention that Vaken was giving her. Though it was obvious that he took his dedication to (her) service very seriously. As he bowed and presented the item to her, Kova wasn't sure if taking it would be the safest thing. Ic was the one that reached for the item. Kova wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next, but clearly this gratitude and politeness that Commander Ellis had suggested was far more dangerous than she had led them to believe. "Um... thanks," Kova said as she backed away.
Ic seemed to concede the direction of where to go next to the rest of the team. Kova read over the the clue. It seemed obvious enough where to go. As Shavan mentioned the park, Kova nodded. "But what about the first line: If plants could talk? Are we supposed to find a tree with a sign?" Naturally, when Shavan mentioned that there was a plant that could talk, Kova was not sure if she was supposed to take him seriously. Then, he mentioned it being telepathic. "Telepathic plants? Really? " Kova simply shook her head and then turned towards Ic. "I guess that means you're up."
As Shavan began to lead the way, Kova cast one last glance back towards Vaken's direction before joining the rest of her team towards the turbolift. Shavan's words to the young Betazoid hadn't gone unnoticed. As they waited for the lift, Kova simply rolled her eyes. "Finish the race first, fornicate later," she said, hoping to keep her team on track. As the lift arrived, Kova stepped inside and waited for the other two to join her. "Deck Six."
You can read the post in context here.
{Submission #3, by Ic Arbrell, is in the Event}Here's what the nominator wrote:
Here's the post itself:
He’d never talked to plants before, except to beg them to survive through his secondary school science fair. They didn’t listen. Ic had never had much success with even the most unkillable of plants, nevermind those who could bear witness to his internal screaming. But maybe that was the problem with the cactus. Maybe it did hear him. There was no way desperation could turn a plant’s insides to gelatinous mush, though.
A remark like that from the lieutenant, however, could make jelly of any organic. It was as lethal as good morning, and at such suffering short range—
The ensign was grateful that the turbolift had a handrail. Less so that it also had Kova. Her remark struck him like a spoon against a freshly demolded aspic, her dense determination a heavy hand. His own imagination, indulgent as it was, had not even gotten that far.
“I— that— we— it was—” He had no idea what that or we we or it (or even I) was, actually, but stammering through the short remainder of the turbolift ride beat the heck out of silence when his entire being reddened, heated, wobbled, helpless. For all the mess of words, all pink, not one of them denied interest.
(He’d never talked very much to people either, and he was certain now that it showed. But damnit, he was a physicist, not a socialite—)
The moment the doors opened upon the green space of the park, Ic stumbled to a struggling equilibrium into grass and oxygen again.
“If plants could talk,” he repeated to himself, desperate to reclaim even a shred of professionalism in the face of his thickly tingling cheeks. One eye closed to concentrate on blocking the sensations of others, Ic started on a wandering path to feel out any vegetation—rather, any non-person— sentience that might be waiting with a clue upon its…. whatever organelle it could have been that facilitated communication. Then again, a plant could have been manufacturing (a replicator?) or an informant. He supposed a telepathic vegetable could have been all of the above. The only trouble was that it was a rather busy day at the park, and Ic often struggled to filter information in even small groups of humanoids he was acquainted with, especially under emotional duress.
He turned to Shavan, walking backward, but didn’t dare make eye contact under the pretense of a visual search, of course. “—what’s it look like, sir?”
You can read the post in context here.
I immediately felt for Ic, from his inner monologue, the embarrassment then trying to focus on the clue was just brilliant as was the response he was reacting too
Here's the post itself:
[Turbolift -> Park]
He’d never talked to plants before, except to beg them to survive through his secondary school science fair. They didn’t listen. Ic had never had much success with even the most unkillable of plants, nevermind those who could bear witness to his internal screaming. But maybe that was the problem with the cactus. Maybe it did hear him. There was no way desperation could turn a plant’s insides to gelatinous mush, though.
A remark like that from the lieutenant, however, could make jelly of any organic. It was as lethal as good morning, and at such suffering short range—
The ensign was grateful that the turbolift had a handrail. Less so that it also had Kova. Her remark struck him like a spoon against a freshly demolded aspic, her dense determination a heavy hand. His own imagination, indulgent as it was, had not even gotten that far.
“I— that— we— it was—” He had no idea what that or we we or it (or even I) was, actually, but stammering through the short remainder of the turbolift ride beat the heck out of silence when his entire being reddened, heated, wobbled, helpless. For all the mess of words, all pink, not one of them denied interest.
(He’d never talked very much to people either, and he was certain now that it showed. But damnit, he was a physicist, not a socialite—)
The moment the doors opened upon the green space of the park, Ic stumbled to a struggling equilibrium into grass and oxygen again.
“If plants could talk,” he repeated to himself, desperate to reclaim even a shred of professionalism in the face of his thickly tingling cheeks. One eye closed to concentrate on blocking the sensations of others, Ic started on a wandering path to feel out any vegetation—rather, any non-person— sentience that might be waiting with a clue upon its…. whatever organelle it could have been that facilitated communication. Then again, a plant could have been manufacturing (a replicator?) or an informant. He supposed a telepathic vegetable could have been all of the above. The only trouble was that it was a rather busy day at the park, and Ic often struggled to filter information in even small groups of humanoids he was acquainted with, especially under emotional duress.
He turned to Shavan, walking backward, but didn’t dare make eye contact under the pretense of a visual search, of course. “—what’s it look like, sir?”
You can read the post in context here.
{Submission #4, by Shavan Th'zhaar, is in the Event}Here's what the nominator wrote:
Here's the post itself:
At Kova's comment, Shavan just rolled his eyes, neither acknowledging nor denying such intentions. “I said later, didn't I?”
Resisting the urge to add something else, he let the subject of fornicating with either of them (or perfectly professional tours of the station) drop for the moment.
They arrived at the park, and Shavan looked at Ic (had he been that pink the whole time?) as he turned the topic back to the telepathic plant, and started leading the way down the path toward it. “You’ll know when you see it. Huge, vines everywhere, lots of thorns…” Maybe not the most detailed description, but Shavan wasn’t actually a botanist…. and the thing was hard to miss.
You can read the post in context here.
Shavan's response was just exactly what I was hoping for with what had happened previously and I'm loving the sexual tension etc that's simmering beneath that group
Here's the post itself:
[Shavan Th’zhaar - Park]
At Kova's comment, Shavan just rolled his eyes, neither acknowledging nor denying such intentions. “I said later, didn't I?”
Resisting the urge to add something else, he let the subject of fornicating with either of them (or perfectly professional tours of the station) drop for the moment.
They arrived at the park, and Shavan looked at Ic (had he been that pink the whole time?) as he turned the topic back to the telepathic plant, and started leading the way down the path toward it. “You’ll know when you see it. Huge, vines everywhere, lots of thorns…” Maybe not the most detailed description, but Shavan wasn’t actually a botanist…. and the thing was hard to miss.
You can read the post in context here.
{Submission #5, by Ic Arbrell, is in the Event}Here's what the nominator wrote:
Here's the post itself:
It was torture to watch Shavan move like that. Sweet, hot, rhythmic torture, as he finally understood the first verse—
Ic pouted at Kova’s refusal to hear his resignation, a mask for the mixing of feelings that moved to the cover me with kisses, baby in a painful shade of teal. It had been more an offer to leave the competition completely so they’d have a chance of winning than it was to get out of embarrassing himself with dancing, and although he wasn’t sure she knew that, it was clear to him that she was trying to help anyway. Whether she believed that they could still win, or if she actually liked him well enough to keep him around, he couldn’t tell. Even if she just wanted to see him embarrass himself in front of Shavan and die in D minor, she was going out of her way to do it… with a really cool thing.
When she offered the lens ready to go, he turned it over with his usual curiosity for a moment before he put it on. Everyone but the choreographer vanished from view— but not so from the periphery of his feeling. Emotions come, I don’t know why, cover up love’s alibi—
Betazoid dance was symbiotic in nature, relying on being perfectly in tune with one’s music and partner to produce a compelling performance. Almost entirely improvised, it had next to no recognizably standard moves but for any of the common nonverbal gestures used in everyday communication to emphasize a feeling. It was made entirely of feeling, a shared emotion between two and tune, displayed on the outside.
Although Ic Arbrell knew every move in the choreography of each of Madonna’s videos and major concert performances, he could only follow it without the distraction of someone else. Independence of her work conflicted with what he knew, and the midpoint was disastrous. But he had two someone elses in the same boat to help him through Blondie. He didn’t count on matching emotion, and it would have been a whole lot easier if no one could see him either, but he’d do his best.
“Chel-E, end choreography,” he suggested quietly. To his surprise, it did. Hmm.. “Chel-E, take a message to display for Kova— You're the best.” He lifted the lens to take one last longing look at the lieutenant he knew he really shouldn’t have, and with a resolute sigh (leaving the berries safely on a table nearby) headed in to join his team on the dance floor.
When you’re ready, we can share the wine, call me!
Whatever protestations Ic had about dancing in front of other people was criminally unfounded. He was no Orion, and it was clear he wasn’t suited to solo performance, but a little each of his partners’ shifting moods on top of his own was enough to get into a groove. His only comfort right now, though, was knowing that the bouncer had seen a whole lot worse.
You can read the post in context here.
I love all of Ic's posts, but his reaction to being forced to dance with his crush, and Kova's assistance, made this one particularly enjoyable to read
Here's the post itself:
[Delirium, Promenade]
It was torture to watch Shavan move like that. Sweet, hot, rhythmic torture, as he finally understood the first verse—
Ic pouted at Kova’s refusal to hear his resignation, a mask for the mixing of feelings that moved to the cover me with kisses, baby in a painful shade of teal. It had been more an offer to leave the competition completely so they’d have a chance of winning than it was to get out of embarrassing himself with dancing, and although he wasn’t sure she knew that, it was clear to him that she was trying to help anyway. Whether she believed that they could still win, or if she actually liked him well enough to keep him around, he couldn’t tell. Even if she just wanted to see him embarrass himself in front of Shavan and die in D minor, she was going out of her way to do it… with a really cool thing.
When she offered the lens ready to go, he turned it over with his usual curiosity for a moment before he put it on. Everyone but the choreographer vanished from view— but not so from the periphery of his feeling. Emotions come, I don’t know why, cover up love’s alibi—
Betazoid dance was symbiotic in nature, relying on being perfectly in tune with one’s music and partner to produce a compelling performance. Almost entirely improvised, it had next to no recognizably standard moves but for any of the common nonverbal gestures used in everyday communication to emphasize a feeling. It was made entirely of feeling, a shared emotion between two and tune, displayed on the outside.
Although Ic Arbrell knew every move in the choreography of each of Madonna’s videos and major concert performances, he could only follow it without the distraction of someone else. Independence of her work conflicted with what he knew, and the midpoint was disastrous. But he had two someone elses in the same boat to help him through Blondie. He didn’t count on matching emotion, and it would have been a whole lot easier if no one could see him either, but he’d do his best.
“Chel-E, end choreography,” he suggested quietly. To his surprise, it did. Hmm.. “Chel-E, take a message to display for Kova— You're the best.” He lifted the lens to take one last longing look at the lieutenant he knew he really shouldn’t have, and with a resolute sigh (leaving the berries safely on a table nearby) headed in to join his team on the dance floor.
When you’re ready, we can share the wine, call me!
Whatever protestations Ic had about dancing in front of other people was criminally unfounded. He was no Orion, and it was clear he wasn’t suited to solo performance, but a little each of his partners’ shifting moods on top of his own was enough to get into a groove. His only comfort right now, though, was knowing that the bouncer had seen a whole lot worse.
You can read the post in context here.
Last but not least, we have an honorable mention, a post from an admin that got nommed, but can't win, because it's by an admin. They're always a nice gesture for us admins to receive!
{Submission #6, by Felicity Ellis, is in the Event}
Here's the post itself:
The turbolift doors whooshed open with their signature sound, and that was quickly followed by two heavy bootfalls of two Bajoran men. Once they caught sight of the trio of teammates, they walked with purpose toward them. An uncommon sight, perhaps in this corridor, but not too strange for two in plain clothes to be visiting the hangar. They had as much right or reason to be there as the others, and they knew it.
The smaller of the two had a long, hook shaped scar that ran from the corner of his mouth and disappeared beneath a receding hairline. The other, younger and at least a head taller than his companion, had striking pale grey eyes, and walked with a noticeable limp. Both of them had concealed weapons beneath their clothes; visible by those who knew what to look for, and evidenced by an unshapely lump beneath their sweaters.
They checked the corridor, ensuring that there was nobody else to see or overhear the little exchange they'd planned. "Hey, you," the smaller one snarled, staring straight at Eta. "Where are you going?" They kept moving until they were almost upon the small team.
You can read the post in context here.
Here's the post itself:
[Eehir Digen & Jalud Sunn - Main Flight Hangar]
The turbolift doors whooshed open with their signature sound, and that was quickly followed by two heavy bootfalls of two Bajoran men. Once they caught sight of the trio of teammates, they walked with purpose toward them. An uncommon sight, perhaps in this corridor, but not too strange for two in plain clothes to be visiting the hangar. They had as much right or reason to be there as the others, and they knew it.
The smaller of the two had a long, hook shaped scar that ran from the corner of his mouth and disappeared beneath a receding hairline. The other, younger and at least a head taller than his companion, had striking pale grey eyes, and walked with a noticeable limp. Both of them had concealed weapons beneath their clothes; visible by those who knew what to look for, and evidenced by an unshapely lump beneath their sweaters.
They checked the corridor, ensuring that there was nobody else to see or overhear the little exchange they'd planned. "Hey, you," the smaller one snarled, staring straight at Eta. "Where are you going?" They kept moving until they were almost upon the small team.
You can read the post in context here.
As usual, balloting will go on for 48 hours, until 10 AM PDT on Saturday, July 3rd. If we need a runoff, we'll have a runoff.