realityshifted | one • there is a ghost deep in my throat

one • there is a ghost deep in my throat

[Jim Kirk walks out onto the Plane from the shop hesitantly. He looks at the stars under the pathway of sorts or floor he’s standing on, and then turns to speak to Commander Spock who had been with him on this trading mission to Ceresea but finds no one. His brow furrows in confusion, and he takes a few steps back the way he came. The shop is gone, and it seems as though he’s alone in a very starry, very big, and rather intimidating place.

He reaches to his belt, and unhooks his communicator; flipping it open to speak:]

Kirk to Enterprise. [Nothing.] Enterprise, come in.
[He tries for who should be closer, though he’s lost all visual contact with his First Officer.] Kirk to Commander Spock, do you read me?

[The furrow in his brow becomes more pronounced, and he looks back to the way he was originally headed. He makes note of some sort of stand-alone station which says “Information”, and makes his way over to it. He looks around it, and finds what appear to be paper brochures. Actual paper.]

Is that actually---[Gingerly, he picks up a pamphlet, and flips it open. He reads over the first couple of paragraphs, but then his curiosity gets the best of him, and his fingers rub small circles over the folded paper in his hands.]---it is. [He’s speaking more to himself now.]

I’m holding paper. Real paper.

[Snap out of it, Jim. You just walked from a shop on Ceresea to wherever the hell you’re standing now. Get your priorities together. You need to find out where you are and figure out a way to contact your ship.

It doesn’t mean you can’t explore a bit while you figure it out. I mean, it isn’t like Delta Vega. No monsters trying to eat you or anything.

Yet.

He walks away from the kiosk, still looking over the small brochure in his hands, but then stops, turns around and goes back to pick up another brochure, pockets it, and then continues on his way.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There is a projection, if you'd rather the information that way. [Lurking near the kiosk? Oh yes.]

[Jim looks up, equal parts curious and wary of the person, but Starfleet's mandate is to explore and the person doesn't seem immediately hostile. He'll give them the benefit of the doubt since he knows nothing but what he's read over briefly in the pamphlet he's holding.]

I'm actually just fine with the information this way. We don't exactly have paper lying around where I come from. [And Jim has a thing for antiques, which he doesn't really let a lot of people know. He offers a smile.]

I'm Jim. Jim Kirk.

Oh no? That's a shame.

[Mu nods his head in greeting] I am Mu. Welcome to the Astral Plane.

We use PADDs. [A beat as he realizes that this person probably has no idea what that is.]

Little hand held tablet computers.

[He casts another glance around him.] Don't suppose it's you I have to thank for the sudden change in scenery? Normally I wouldn't complain, but my companions--[It seems like a better word to use in the moment as opposed to crew. No need to give away too much information at the moment.]--will be looking for me.

[He could only imagine his first officer's expression at his sudden disappearance into the small, out of the way shop. He still didn't see any sign that he'd been able to follow. It was disconcerting to say the very least.]

So small? My, the wonders of technology.

I'm afraid this is something I can't take credit for. If you wish to return home, you simply must think about it - something like taking a step. You'll find that no time has passed when you return.

[Uh oh. That was a red alert in his head. If that was considered a marvel to them, then he doubted something so advanced as interstellar travel was commonplace for him. He couldn't be sure without further conversation, but he would have to tread carefully.

There was the Prime Directive to think on still.

He raises a brow at being told that going home is a) that simple and b) time stops while he's here. He's never heard of anything like that. Whoever was in charge here was far more advanced than anything he'd yet to encounter or even hear of.]

Impressive.

That's certainly one of the most succinct answers I've heard.

Well, I've heard of some pretty fantastic feats, but never something like this. Since you're not the one who managed all of it, maybe you can tell me more about just what this place is, and whoever is in charge of it, Mu.

[Of course the information is probably in the brochure, but he'd rather hear it straight from the horse's mouth, as it were. You can pick up more when you have a conversation with someone as opposed to just reading about it.]

If you don't mind.

My memory is not infallible, but I will do my best.

The Astral Plane is, as far as anyone can tell, an nexus between many times and places - different universes, as it were. There are a few handfuls of people here who come from the same place and time, and some from the same place but a different time. It's not unheard of for some to come from the same world save for a few differences - a decision, or event transpiring differently in one version. This aside, realities are very much separate.

When one forms a bond with someone else on the Plane, be it strongly positive or strongly negative, their worlds will begin to blend together to some degree. There's more detail in the brochures, but the process is unpredictable at the best of times. All I can recommend is that you remain vigilant for anything unusual.

As to who is in charge, I cannot say with any certainty. It seems as though there are several factions who vie for control of this place, but who is dominant at any time I do not know. What I do know is that whoever is in control has an unfortunate habit of subjecting us to 'experiments' of some variety, either individually or as a group. The frequency seems to have dropped off as of late, but the threat remains.

There are a handful of buildings about, including a kitchen and bar, both of which restock quite frequently. There's also a black hole about. Do mind your step around it.

Oh! And be sure you have Naismith's brochure. It's out of date, but still somewhat more accurate than the other one.

[That is a lot more information that he expected, but he does his best to commit what he's able to memory. He'd find a way to transcribe it to the paper there, or remember to do it when he got back to the Enterprise.

He looks back towards the kiosk.]

There's another brochure I need? All right, sure. Thank you for that. I'll make sure I have it when I start looking around.

[The idea that there was a black hole somewhere in the vicinity that apparently wasn't sucking in everything it could eat was---kind of cool actually. He knows Pointy would want to get a good scan or two of it if he were here.

Hell, he'd like to scan it himself. He wished he had a tricorder on him right then, but he still wasn't certain how much technology he could expose the--locals or indigenous population--oh, whatever other people here to.]

Is there any other technology like the terminal there? [He asks, nodding back towards the kiosk.]

Not to my knowledge, no. Does that trouble you?

[Damn.]

Not so much troubling and more--difficult for me. My people, we have very specific rules regarding contact with others.

[And he has a certain, by-the-book, pointy-eared bastard that he has to watch his back in regards to following those rules very carefully. The last thing he needs is to disregard the Prime Directive again, especially over something that could be otherwise avoided.]

That does sound troublesome. Would asking for elaboration cause you to violate a few?

It's based--around the technological advancement of a civilization as a whole.

Specifically, their ability to---travel great distances.

[Yeah, that sounds pretty okay. Good job, Jim.]

I see. I advise you to tread carefully then - as I said earlier, there are people here from many different places, times, and levels of technology.

Thank you for the warning, I'll be sure to be careful.

[Okay, pretty careful. Mostly careful? Spock should really be there to keep him in check.

Seriously.]

Given that this place alters time and bends space, however, I doubt anything you may let slip will come as a great shock to many people. Perhaps there are even some who are more advanced than you are.

[He sees those wheels turning, Jim.]

[Menzies was walking toward the kiosk at just the right time to catch Kirk's amazement at the wonders of paper. as he walks in the other direction, she calls out:] Not a lot of books where you come from, I take it?

[He turns to look back at her, looking up from the brochure.] We have libraries, but you'd be lucky to get your hands on any of the books. Most of the books have been transcribed to PADDs for easily access.

We don't use paper anymore.

[Aaand there goes the grin when Jim feels like being charming. ~~I'm so sorry~~.] I'm Jim. Jim Kirk.

Hi.

PADDs? [she raises a curious eyebrow] What year are you from, anyway? [she's not sure if "what world" would be a more appropriate question, but he did just imply that they used to use paper, at least, so she's going to go with that one]

[and she just smirks back at him, unimpressed] Menzies. DI Patricia Menzies. So, new to the Plane, are you?

Little---computers. [They're a lot more complicated than that, but that's a reasonable enough explanation.]

2259.

[That grin is still planted firmly on his face, nonplussed by the fact that it doesn't seem to be having any appreciable effect. Nice to meet you, DI Menzies. [He wonders what kind of ranking that was, or maybe it was just some sort of title. He's not familiar with it.] Yeah, guess I am.

Ahh. [it's enough for her, anyway. she gives a whistle at the year] Beginning of 2013 for me. Nice to meet you, too. So, are you from Earth, or some future space colony?

[she nods; she was expecting that answer. and since he doesn't ask, she doesn't see any reason to elaborate on the title] I'd say I could probably answer your questions, but if you 'aven't read the brochure yet, you're gonna want to start there.

Not a lot of it around where you come from?

Not at all. We don't use it anymore.

Really! What do you use instead? [He leans forward, eyebrows raised.]

Um, these small--[He holds his hands apart at the length a PADD would be.]--computers. It's how we keep track of information.

Right, of course. So… do you think you could explain how they work to me? We don't have any of those.

( she really didn't mean to overhear the whole "paper" flabbergasted-ness of this guy, but curiosity hasn't managed to kill her yet so! )

It's just paper?

Uh, sorry, we don't have much of it where I come from. We don't even use it anymore.

[He grins that charming grin of his because well, why not?] I'm Jim. Jim Kirk.

Holy Gods, you come from a place that doesn't use paper? ( well color her impressed! ~~unless they use leaves or something, then not so much impressed as troubled~~ ) What the heck do you write on?

( she flashes a smile back his way, although more polite than anything ) Annabeth. ( she offers her hand ) Annabeth Chase. Nice to meet you, Mr Kirk.

[There's a blonde woman in armor - sans helmet - who happens to be walking by when he starts flipping out about paper. ... huh. She pauses, if only to quirk an eyebrow at him.]

Uh, yeah. Paper. Pretty old, right?

[Not... worth that level of wide-eyed amazement, but yeah, sure, old. She can agree with that much.]

[Well. That was...new. And considering the fact that he was in a very very new place and that--well.]

Antique, actually. [He has a thing for antiques, what? And so what if it looks like she could pummel him without a second thought in that fancy armor of hers: have that suave grin of his too.

there's plenty of this to go around, ladies.] I'm Jim. Jim Kirk.

Yeah. Exactly. Don't know why this place even needs it. It's not like all the data isn't already in the computer, so why print it? It's pretty stupid.

[She meets that grin of his with an unimpressed look - arms crossed, eyes slightly narrowed, not smiling. At all.]

I'm Agent South Dakota.

[ york is always really damn amused when he sees new kids come onto the plane. mostly because he knows he had to have had the same look of utter confusion when he'd first shown up here, but at this point he's been coming here so damn long that he's pretty sure he should be a veteran, or something.

anyway.

he's just kind of moseying around, as he is most often wont to do when he doesn't have anything to do with himself. ( loosely translated, he's bored, there's nothing going on back on the MoI, and he needs to find someone to bother. just asking for trouble, isn't he? pretty damn much. ) when he sees kirk, he's still a ways off, so you know what? he's going to stand back and watch for a minute.

no, that isn't creepy at all. being creepy is maine's thing.

.. is this guy really going on about paper?

oh. this is gonna be fun.

which means he's strolling up, hands in jeans pockets - because he very rarely wears his armor to the plane anymore. no use for it. ~~unless south sees fit to knock him flat out on his ass again.~~ his mouth pulls to the side in a contemplating sort of line, an amused sound filtering up from the back of his throat. ]

What, they don't have paper where you're from?

[ hi jim. meet york.

he's a brat. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

one • there is a ghost deep in my throat

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject