1st Session | Voice
Mar. 14th, 2014 02:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trillbulations[The voice on the journal may be attempting to sound authoritative and in control; it does not manage do do so by any stretch of the imagination.]
Is there a signal? Can anyone hear me?
You're talking to a book, Ezri. Made of paper. Do you really want it to answer?
Umm. I mean, I am Ensign Ezri Dax. I'm with Starfleet. Uh. Starfleet. Right. [A sudden rush of words.] I'm a little turned around, because I really have no idea how I got here. Which seems to be the running theme in this book which I am talking to because I have nothing else to try.
Just find some reeds, a bit of sulfur, and make a flare. At least then you'd be doing something. Equally inane, but better than sitting around talking to a book. Because that's crazy.
[She lets out a sharp breath.]
Okay. Assuming that, somehow, this book is some manner of communication device, I could use a little help finding the village. Which is in the book. And populated by people kidnapped and given wings. Like the ones I have. Out of nowhere. Because wings were exactly what I needed to make everything come together. Wings. Described in a talking book. With a camera. A camera in an old paper book. A book that keeps rewriting itself. All this while wearing a sundress in a forest. Therapeutic. Yeah, that's what we'll call it. Therapeutic.
At least I didn't call myself Curzon. Baby steps, Ezri. Otherwise, you'll miss losing your mind. I'm sure it'll be interesting.
[She groans, and there is something of a pause. At this point, she doesn't seem to think she is still broadcasting (if she ever actually did).]
Calm down. You've been trained for this, Ensign. See if they talk about any peaks on that map that will tell you how far down the range you are. After that, all you have to do is pick a direction. There's a river, or stream, into the town, coming down out of the mountains, and the forest seems to be mostly south of that. So mountains to the right, and walk. And ignore the bugs. You'll be fine.
Okay. Fine. Not like I'm going to run into a palukoo, so I'm fine. Besides, if I do, I can always eat it. There goes the food problem. Okay. Up, let's go! Let's move, Ensign!
[The sound ends here, likely as she closes the Journal.]
Is there a signal? Can anyone hear me?
You're talking to a book, Ezri. Made of paper. Do you really want it to answer?
Umm. I mean, I am Ensign Ezri Dax. I'm with Starfleet. Uh. Starfleet. Right. [A sudden rush of words.] I'm a little turned around, because I really have no idea how I got here. Which seems to be the running theme in this book which I am talking to because I have nothing else to try.
Just find some reeds, a bit of sulfur, and make a flare. At least then you'd be doing something. Equally inane, but better than sitting around talking to a book. Because that's crazy.
[She lets out a sharp breath.]
Okay. Assuming that, somehow, this book is some manner of communication device, I could use a little help finding the village. Which is in the book. And populated by people kidnapped and given wings. Like the ones I have. Out of nowhere. Because wings were exactly what I needed to make everything come together. Wings. Described in a talking book. With a camera. A camera in an old paper book. A book that keeps rewriting itself. All this while wearing a sundress in a forest. Therapeutic. Yeah, that's what we'll call it. Therapeutic.
At least I didn't call myself Curzon. Baby steps, Ezri. Otherwise, you'll miss losing your mind. I'm sure it'll be interesting.
[She groans, and there is something of a pause. At this point, she doesn't seem to think she is still broadcasting (if she ever actually did).]
Calm down. You've been trained for this, Ensign. See if they talk about any peaks on that map that will tell you how far down the range you are. After that, all you have to do is pick a direction. There's a river, or stream, into the town, coming down out of the mountains, and the forest seems to be mostly south of that. So mountains to the right, and walk. And ignore the bugs. You'll be fine.
Okay. Fine. Not like I'm going to run into a palukoo, so I'm fine. Besides, if I do, I can always eat it. There goes the food problem. Okay. Up, let's go! Let's move, Ensign!
[The sound ends here, likely as she closes the Journal.]
Re: Voice
Date: 2014-03-17 03:16 am (UTC)Heh, that's okay. Just take a deep breath okay, you're going to be fine and trust me you're probably not far from the village. I'd come meet you, but without a better idea of where you'll pop out...
Anyways, my name's James T. Kirk, but everyone just calls me Kirk so roll with that. I'd hate to mess with a good thing, you know?
Voice
Date: 2014-03-18 06:20 am (UTC)That's right, she starts to laugh. Sorry, Sir.]
Oh, oh...
[A sharp breath.]
I see. Um, Sir. Is Leonard McCoy hanging over your shoulder? Tell him I owe him a mint julep.
[And now it's so bad she actually snorts while she laughs.]
Re: Voice
Date: 2014-03-18 04:03 pm (UTC)A mint julep? Uh... makes sense. It sounds very southern, and he's the most southern person I've ever met. I don't think he'd refuse the offer, though.
But he's not hanging over my shoulder, if you're wondering. I don't let him do that, he might hypo me. I can go get him if you want. In fact, Bones should probably look over you once you get down here, just in case.
[ She might be laughing, but he's talking like he's totally serious and he is. He is, after all, the real James T. Kirk. ]
Voice
Date: 2014-03-18 06:39 pm (UTC)Aren't you a little young to be 140 years old?
[You know, for a human. Because the 21-year-old ensign who is 350 years old isn't at all strange.]
Re: Voice
Date: 2014-03-18 07:37 pm (UTC)Well, in my time, I'm only 24, but good to know my name lasts that long.
[ There is a pause as he considers something. ]
You don't work with a B'Elenna do you? Half-human, half-Klingon?
Re: Voice
Date: 2014-03-18 08:44 pm (UTC)Uh. You're trying to tell me there's been some kind temporal displacement, aren't you?
[A beat; she's considering instances in which she has been involved in time travel; it's an impressivly large list, though nothing compared to Kirk, of course. It's okay, there's an easier question.]
B'Elanna? I don't know any half-klingon by that name. That I can think of. I've actually been Klingon-free for six months. Well, I have never actually even met a Klingon. But Dax hasn't seen one in months. So, I have no idea who you're talking about.
[She sighs.]
Seriously, Sir. What year is it?
Re: Voice
Date: 2014-03-19 03:10 am (UTC)Hmm, yeah, that might be what this is. It's one of the theories that seems to make any sort of sense.
Well, that rather depends on who you ask. I don't think Luceti has a year calendar, but me? Well, it was 2258 last I personally checked.
Voice
Date: 2014-04-05 09:06 pm (UTC)You are actually serious, aren't you?
[She sounds incredulous, sure...but also increasingly embarrassed. Kirk has a way with women from the future, apparently. Now, though, she's not even talking to him.]
The orb's on Bajor. And I have no link to...if I was taken off of Earth, someone might have gone into warp around...but that's mad. Only people who ever actually did that were...um. If something happened to the confinement beam...but who would have been transporting me anywhere? We couldn't recreate what Rom managed with Kemocite...
[She trails off and looks at the journal.]
Um. I don't think we should talk anymore, Sir.
Re: Voice
Date: 2014-04-06 11:17 pm (UTC)Right, well, I didn't understand half of that, but I think I got the basic gist - you're worried talking to me is going to mess up the time-stream or something, right?
Well, if it helps, I'm probably not the Captain Kirk you know from the history books. Or I might be, since you might be from my time-line or you could be from Old Spock's time-line. Ugh, time-space physics questions are not my forte. Also I've already met B'Ellena, and she's told me stuff, so on the whole you telling me things probably won't do that much more damage.