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taxonomites2010-10-07 02:35 pm
hippocraticly.livejournal.com) wrote in taxonomites2010-10-07 02:35 pm
001 { HOLO ☤ LOCATION: THE SANCTUARY } Melvarian mud fleas come in a little glass vial
In hindsight, McCoy should have expected something like this would happen to him during their five-year mission and especially after the incident with Nero and his crew. It was slim pickings they would bother him per say, but the fear was very much there and he knew -- as a certified doctor -- that bad luck could often cling to man like a bad smell and good fortune was not favouring him in recent years: he had lost the whole planet in a divorce, chosen a career where he would essentially expose his cells to ultra violet rays on a daily basis and even got ladled with a nickname from a new best friend, who just happened to be the Captain of the USS Enterprise.
"I don't want my atoms scattered God knows where, damn it."
And apparently, their friendship granted him very little favours since his request to take a shuttlecraft, which could quite easily transport him (and a few shaky ensigns he had managed to scaremonger) down to the Class M planet, had been denied. Well actually, the rebuff had come in the shape of a heavy slap on the shoulder and suggesting he should buckle up. Or some strong words to that effect, which managed to get the job done and prodded him reluctantly onto the transporter pad.
McCoy was going to make sure to remind anyone who asked about it if he ever got back onto the ship and his arm still hurt where he had clapped him on the arm, damn it.
One thing he was not expecting was to be subjected to the same scenario twice as he materialized in the sanctuary wracked with the usual transporter-related nerves and having his arrival broadcasted for everyone to see. After a brief moment of disorientation (mostly due to pattern buffer related nausea, which was far too psychosomatic for its own good) where he pressed his fingers against his temple in an attempt to dispel the uneasiness, he cracked open his eyes to see if he had indeed made it to the intended destination. Instead, he feels a wave of nostalgia sweep over him as his eyes dart around the unfamiliar room and his face contorts in confusion.
The surprise the tablet manages to catch quickly vanishes and his eyes slant his usual suspicion about anything foreign and far too alien for his liking, as he lowers his hand and pats at his side experimentally. His Starfleet issued phaser that he had been told to carry before beaming down? Gone, along with his medical pouch. He hadn't wanted to carry one of those blasted things around anyway, although he did lament the loss of his equipment and he briefly wondered if there was a beagle chewing on his hypospray in some alternative universe where people lost in transporters ended up. Most likely.
"Thanks a lot, Scotty."
McCoy's bitter gripe against the Scot did make him feel a bit better as his eyes travelled around the room, the place becoming increasingly familiar to the doctor as the name of the location danced on the tip of his tongue, but continued to evade him for the moment. But it was not in the good and wholesome sense of the word, like an association with his grandfather’s farm in good old Georgia. Nope, this one left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth as his nose wrinkled with disgust and a knot formed itself in his stomach as he associated this feeling to one where Joanna took a bit of tumble when he was meant to have been watching her play. No wonder Jocelyn had bled him dry.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!" He eventually exclaimed heatedly as it all came back to him, his head darting downwards as he raised his wrist to confirm his suspicions for certain; yep, that damn charm bracelet was fixed back on his wrist and he let it fall to his side as he huffed unhappily on the spot, "If I didn't like it here the first time, what makes you bastards think I'd want a second run at this living in this hell hole?"
He didn't expect a reply to that question as he sauntered away from the transporter pad and went to collect the tablet waiting for him. He snatched it up rolled his eyes at the default setting and, after a great amount of trial and error as he attempted to reacquaint himself with how to use it, switched it off.
There was quite enough technological crap to deal with today without having his hissy fit transmitted in a holographic form, thank you very much.
"I don't want my atoms scattered God knows where, damn it."
And apparently, their friendship granted him very little favours since his request to take a shuttlecraft, which could quite easily transport him (and a few shaky ensigns he had managed to scaremonger) down to the Class M planet, had been denied. Well actually, the rebuff had come in the shape of a heavy slap on the shoulder and suggesting he should buckle up. Or some strong words to that effect, which managed to get the job done and prodded him reluctantly onto the transporter pad.
McCoy was going to make sure to remind anyone who asked about it if he ever got back onto the ship and his arm still hurt where he had clapped him on the arm, damn it.
One thing he was not expecting was to be subjected to the same scenario twice as he materialized in the sanctuary wracked with the usual transporter-related nerves and having his arrival broadcasted for everyone to see. After a brief moment of disorientation (mostly due to pattern buffer related nausea, which was far too psychosomatic for its own good) where he pressed his fingers against his temple in an attempt to dispel the uneasiness, he cracked open his eyes to see if he had indeed made it to the intended destination. Instead, he feels a wave of nostalgia sweep over him as his eyes dart around the unfamiliar room and his face contorts in confusion.
The surprise the tablet manages to catch quickly vanishes and his eyes slant his usual suspicion about anything foreign and far too alien for his liking, as he lowers his hand and pats at his side experimentally. His Starfleet issued phaser that he had been told to carry before beaming down? Gone, along with his medical pouch. He hadn't wanted to carry one of those blasted things around anyway, although he did lament the loss of his equipment and he briefly wondered if there was a beagle chewing on his hypospray in some alternative universe where people lost in transporters ended up. Most likely.
"Thanks a lot, Scotty."
McCoy's bitter gripe against the Scot did make him feel a bit better as his eyes travelled around the room, the place becoming increasingly familiar to the doctor as the name of the location danced on the tip of his tongue, but continued to evade him for the moment. But it was not in the good and wholesome sense of the word, like an association with his grandfather’s farm in good old Georgia. Nope, this one left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth as his nose wrinkled with disgust and a knot formed itself in his stomach as he associated this feeling to one where Joanna took a bit of tumble when he was meant to have been watching her play. No wonder Jocelyn had bled him dry.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!" He eventually exclaimed heatedly as it all came back to him, his head darting downwards as he raised his wrist to confirm his suspicions for certain; yep, that damn charm bracelet was fixed back on his wrist and he let it fall to his side as he huffed unhappily on the spot, "If I didn't like it here the first time, what makes you bastards think I'd want a second run at this living in this hell hole?"
He didn't expect a reply to that question as he sauntered away from the transporter pad and went to collect the tablet waiting for him. He snatched it up rolled his eyes at the default setting and, after a great amount of trial and error as he attempted to reacquaint himself with how to use it, switched it off.
There was quite enough technological crap to deal with today without having his hissy fit transmitted in a holographic form, thank you very much.
[Voice] fyi, I really missed their trolling ;o;
Back, doctor? I have never before seen this place.
[Voice] /clings to delicious castmate <333 that's still so weird fgfdkd
[Voice] <3333 You'll get used to it bb~ WE CAN TROLL FOREVER
[Voice] <333333 YAY
[Voice] 8DD
[Voice]
[Voice]
[Voice]
[ Crap. ]
[Voice]
[Voice]
[ And fix it so he doesn't open his mouth and let a boot come out, even if kicking the Vulcan is tempting. ] I’m not beaming back to the Enterprise. I'd rather walk.
[Voice]
Back?