Post by Judith Eastman on May 2, 2020 4:34:20 GMT
Hello, friends!
I'm afraid we haven't come to a clear decision in the first round of POTM balloting, which means we're here to have the runoff vote between the top two.
We'll run 48 hours, again. The submissions are down to #4 and #5, so here they are.
Poll will stay open for 48 hours.
I'm afraid we haven't come to a clear decision in the first round of POTM balloting, which means we're here to have the runoff vote between the top two.
We'll run 48 hours, again. The submissions are down to #4 and #5, so here they are.
{Submission #4 is by Alex Hust } This is the reason given:
Here's the post:
[In the Forest]
Alex had become more and more uncomfortable the longer he spent on the surface. The more time he spent watching, listening, and walking around, the more he couldn't shake the idea that he was being watched. Evaluated. Analyzed. It was uncomfortable. He tried chalking it up to his fear of the open spaces, his time outside a vac-suit and the fact that the horizon went on forever, both stretching into infinity, yet contained. There was no end in sight of clean, breathable air and solid ground to plant his feet on, but at the same time it was just too far. There was nothing in the sky keeping it all in - no hard plating over his face to protect him, no bulkhead and gamma-welded metal holding the bubbles of air together. There was simply... nothing. It was terrifying. Nothing solid and physical telling him where one thing ended, and another began. It felt like he shouldn't be able to breathe - and with this thinking, his breath began to catch in his own throat, his body fighting to not release any air to the void, a void he thought into existence. He had to pause and close his eyes, listening and forcing himself to heel in order to calm down.
As he'd been walking, regardless of his reasoning, he had become more attentive to the sounds around him. Where he would usually listen for alerts, proximity warnings, the dull thud of metal reverberating through his suit and whatever he was touching, or even the nothing of free-floating in space, always monitoring for the hiss of air, he now found those ears primed and searching for other, subtle sounds. To go from an environment in space of hearing little to hearing all the sounds of a full ecosystem, it was equal parts relaxing and terrifying. But, it made him notice things, such as when that sudden wilderness got quiet. When it felt like a wave of silence had forced all the animals into frozen places, afraid to move at all. It was a warning.
He reached down and extracted the disruptor from his holster, powering it up to half power, enough to put down almost anything in one good hit. The whine of the disruptor filled the air, as his commbadge at his shoulder, where he'd moved it, chirped out with a message from Costa. Something was drastically wrong, for her to actually have caved and contacted him. She ordered him back to the ship, and to lock it down tight. He turned on his heel and began moving quickly again through the trees, moving back toward the caves as branches scraped at his face and small brush was tramped to the ground underfoot. He paid no mind to trying to be subtle or careful as he blundered through the woods. Costa, for all her flaws, stubborn attitude, and the like was his Hed. He'd defend his Hed and his freightalowda.
=\\= Na, Hed. Keting showxa tu? Mi ere mi we, tu nakangepensa pashangwala. Ge kopengda kong tim! Ere dédeya. =\\=
He quickly changed his comms frequency, calling the ship and one of the few crew he knew on the ship. The Engineer, Baggy.
=\\= Oye, Baggy! Lock im xox gut, sasa ké? Hed's showxa. =\\= he said, sharp and curt, before switching back channels. Baggy would follow orders, or he'd be a moron. Either way, that was his problem.
As he approached the clearing, he raised the disruptor and prepared to fire on anything that didn't resemble a human being, and didn't right care what it was at the time. He spotted a target, and let loose, the whine and shine of green death streaking forth from the emitter of his weapon, screaming through the void seeking a target.
You can read the post in context here.
It's not often that the realities and pains of a life lived in space are addressed in RP. Here, David uses Alex beautifully to show us that not everyone is as comfortable on land as they are in space, along with showcasing the physical shortcomings of someone who grew up in low-G environments. We can feel Alex's discomfort here, and almost see his panic in his actions.
It's a thoughtful and accurate representation, and I really enjoyed the mix of realism and creativity.
It's a thoughtful and accurate representation, and I really enjoyed the mix of realism and creativity.
Alex had become more and more uncomfortable the longer he spent on the surface. The more time he spent watching, listening, and walking around, the more he couldn't shake the idea that he was being watched. Evaluated. Analyzed. It was uncomfortable. He tried chalking it up to his fear of the open spaces, his time outside a vac-suit and the fact that the horizon went on forever, both stretching into infinity, yet contained. There was no end in sight of clean, breathable air and solid ground to plant his feet on, but at the same time it was just too far. There was nothing in the sky keeping it all in - no hard plating over his face to protect him, no bulkhead and gamma-welded metal holding the bubbles of air together. There was simply... nothing. It was terrifying. Nothing solid and physical telling him where one thing ended, and another began. It felt like he shouldn't be able to breathe - and with this thinking, his breath began to catch in his own throat, his body fighting to not release any air to the void, a void he thought into existence. He had to pause and close his eyes, listening and forcing himself to heel in order to calm down.
As he'd been walking, regardless of his reasoning, he had become more attentive to the sounds around him. Where he would usually listen for alerts, proximity warnings, the dull thud of metal reverberating through his suit and whatever he was touching, or even the nothing of free-floating in space, always monitoring for the hiss of air, he now found those ears primed and searching for other, subtle sounds. To go from an environment in space of hearing little to hearing all the sounds of a full ecosystem, it was equal parts relaxing and terrifying. But, it made him notice things, such as when that sudden wilderness got quiet. When it felt like a wave of silence had forced all the animals into frozen places, afraid to move at all. It was a warning.
He reached down and extracted the disruptor from his holster, powering it up to half power, enough to put down almost anything in one good hit. The whine of the disruptor filled the air, as his commbadge at his shoulder, where he'd moved it, chirped out with a message from Costa. Something was drastically wrong, for her to actually have caved and contacted him. She ordered him back to the ship, and to lock it down tight. He turned on his heel and began moving quickly again through the trees, moving back toward the caves as branches scraped at his face and small brush was tramped to the ground underfoot. He paid no mind to trying to be subtle or careful as he blundered through the woods. Costa, for all her flaws, stubborn attitude, and the like was his Hed. He'd defend his Hed and his freightalowda.
=\\= Na, Hed. Keting showxa tu? Mi ere mi we, tu nakangepensa pashangwala. Ge kopengda kong tim! Ere dédeya. =\\=
He quickly changed his comms frequency, calling the ship and one of the few crew he knew on the ship. The Engineer, Baggy.
=\\= Oye, Baggy! Lock im xox gut, sasa ké? Hed's showxa. =\\= he said, sharp and curt, before switching back channels. Baggy would follow orders, or he'd be a moron. Either way, that was his problem.
As he approached the clearing, he raised the disruptor and prepared to fire on anything that didn't resemble a human being, and didn't right care what it was at the time. He spotted a target, and let loose, the whine and shine of green death streaking forth from the emitter of his weapon, screaming through the void seeking a target.
{Submission #5 is by Caroline Riordan } This is the reason given:
Here's the post:
[Jungle, Kerelia]
Caroline grinned at Doug, despite the admonishment she knew she heard in Captain Ellis’ tone. The Lieutenant was in trouble, but there was nothing to be done about it right this moment. The paperwork’d been lost or so she’d heard. Commander at the last station she’d been on had been notorious for skimming reports and misplacing things. Everyone else seemed to be armed, so she figured it’d be something like herd immunity.
”I can hold on to little Miss Razortoes there, if you need your hands free for making some firebombs, Sir Doug.” Then quietly, in an undertone for just his ears alone. ”I’ve got an emergency flask of spiced rum with the provisions, you think that’d be handy?”
She rummaged through her bag, finding not only the flask, but also a slightly crumbly, blueberry muffin, leftover from the morning’s breakfast and wrapped in a napkin. She held the alcohol out in a trade of sorts, for his fluffy pet.
In Cara’s position close to Captain Ellis, she had a great view of the grotesque alien creatures charging them. The fleshy monstrosities were unlike anything she’d seen, some xenobiologist would probably have a field day with them. As she grabbed on to a sturdy branch for protection, she yelled out.
”The hell are these things? They were NOT in the reports!” Her voice was tinged with panic, and she began to regret not having a real weapon. She edged closer to the Captain, careful to stay out of the way of the woman’s phaser.
Tag:
Judith Eastman
Felicity Ellis
Soft:
@lyricsinclair
Thomas Jett
Isaiah Quinn
Rylonis Trellgin
You can read the post in context here.
One of the first posts to make me laugh out loud... the fact that the Tritters aren't in the reports!
Caroline grinned at Doug, despite the admonishment she knew she heard in Captain Ellis’ tone. The Lieutenant was in trouble, but there was nothing to be done about it right this moment. The paperwork’d been lost or so she’d heard. Commander at the last station she’d been on had been notorious for skimming reports and misplacing things. Everyone else seemed to be armed, so she figured it’d be something like herd immunity.
”I can hold on to little Miss Razortoes there, if you need your hands free for making some firebombs, Sir Doug.” Then quietly, in an undertone for just his ears alone. ”I’ve got an emergency flask of spiced rum with the provisions, you think that’d be handy?”
She rummaged through her bag, finding not only the flask, but also a slightly crumbly, blueberry muffin, leftover from the morning’s breakfast and wrapped in a napkin. She held the alcohol out in a trade of sorts, for his fluffy pet.
In Cara’s position close to Captain Ellis, she had a great view of the grotesque alien creatures charging them. The fleshy monstrosities were unlike anything she’d seen, some xenobiologist would probably have a field day with them. As she grabbed on to a sturdy branch for protection, she yelled out.
”The hell are these things? They were NOT in the reports!” Her voice was tinged with panic, and she began to regret not having a real weapon. She edged closer to the Captain, careful to stay out of the way of the woman’s phaser.
Tag:
Judith Eastman
Felicity Ellis
Soft:
@lyricsinclair
Thomas Jett
Isaiah Quinn
Rylonis Trellgin
Poll will stay open for 48 hours.
