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qc-wiggles · 6 months

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they say write what you know and what i know is academic stress and yearbook pain. so anyways it's a yearbook club au!!!!

YEARBOOK CLUB MEMBERS:

supervising teachers: gertrude and leitner. they become uncontactable like a week into the project (do they die? do they resign? tim has a running theory that they eloped.)

elias: head of yearbook club. dips unexpectedly in the middle of the entire thing (something about an optical surgery) and forces jon to take over. his dad paid for the adobe subscription they’re using

rosie: treasurer, she’s very efficient, they’ve probably exchanged like 3 emails in total and she’s gotten everything funded. knows well enough to stay out of the dumpster fire that is yearbook production otherwise

jon: de facto head of yearbook club. thinks it should have gone to sasha instead. hes a bit incompetent but plans like it’s doomsday the next week so they are always in a wealth of excel sheets. writer, editor

tim: joined partly because he wanted an excuse to get out of football fixtures. also because he is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked him. he has a tiktok. marketing, editor

sasha: joined partly to impress gertrude (she’s looking for her to write her letter of recommendation as head girl in sixth form). also because she is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked her. she still uses livejournal. designer, writer

gerry: sixth form, occasionally helps out with networking at gertrude’s behest. tim is a bit starstruck over him. he saves their asses many, many times

melanie and georgie: got unofficially roped in as photographers. why you ask? manuela dominguez may have the cutting edge cameras but she is simply too scary to approach. melanie has a youtube channel that all the girls and tim are apparently subscribed to.

martin: there is not one single picture of him. apparently he didn’t turn up for photo day, neither was he involved in any school events. even the people who have shared half-remembered facts about him seem to forget about him when questioned a second time. where did he go?

PLOT:

it’s the month before the yearbook is due to be sent in for production, and the team have discovered numerous issues with the draft: pictures of random people keep getting swapped over like they’ve been photoshopped, some pages are illegible and distorted unless they are physically written out in hand and scanned, one paragraph is a leitner. and nobody can find martin blackwood so they can get his picture in the yearbook. what will they do.

SIDE CHARACTERS:

annabelle cane: current head girl

mikaele salesa: somehow knows literally everyone, involved in the funding of yearbook production

mike crew: uneasy alliance with gerry in their pursuit of jurgen leitner

oliver banks: had a mental breakdown sometime during his gcses but hes fine now

david from research: nobody says it to his face but he has genuinely the most atrocious clothing choice in the entire school apart from michael shelley, and even then michael shelley makes work

grifter’s bone: the band of the school, except no one actually knows anyone who’s part of it. their shows are legendarily terrible. manuela says ambulances were phoned.

daisy and basira: prefects, currently invested in making sure yearbook club remains LEGAL and not STALKING ANY STAFF OR STUDENTS, JON

jmag: principal. boo. what a creep

julia montauk: apparently her dad went to jail. but who is she living with now? i don’t know, manuela told me. how does manuela know? julia told her in a sleepover during year 6. and she’s telling other people? wow. that’s messed up. is that old guy her grandpa? why does he carry a rifle around

jared hopworth: prejudiced gymbro, but importantly, NOT a homophobe.

the admiral: what else needs to be said

FAMOUS ALUMNI:

agnes montague (campus celebrity from literally decades ago) (her relationship with jack barnabas is mythicised)

jude perry (allegedly caused some fire-related, agnes-related events)

edwin burroughs (allegedly commited atrocities during one year’s christmas dinner)

jane prentiss (left for uni a year ago, allegedly brought many live organisms onto campus) (keeps talking about this guy called jordan)

eric delano (he did WHAT to his eyes)

MISCELLANEOUS POINTS:

daedalus crew is astronomy club

breekon and hope are the manufacturers for much of the schools equipment and stationery

jon keeps finding notes from gertrude stashed in random places about yearbook difficulties its like a fun cool treasure hunt

they cant figure out where a computer they were initially using for yearbook club is from. it says ‘ushanka’ on the bottom of the display and the keys are slightly crusty

what the hell are the drama students actually up to

#changing this later probably #talks #school au

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1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt · 1 year

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I was crunching some numbers about TOS with other fans re: the twelve ships that originally launched during Kirk's era as Captain of the Enterprise for that first five year mission.

It made me really appreciate the TOS crew and the wild frontier era that they managed to survive -- not only survive, but became the staple and measure of success for the Starfleet that took shape after them.

Folks forget that Kirk's crew were one of the few of the original 12 Starships launched that actually returned from their assigned mission with some semblance of crew and ship intact.

A lot of information was gathered and established during that exploratory time -- the reason the TOS crew findings are often mentioned in TNG onward is largely due to them being among the lucky few crew who made it back to share their findings during that time.

This benefited every crew afterward who built upon their findings as they revised based on experiences. Things that happened in that time were addressed in regulation later as a lesson learned.

Regarding the 12 ships:

- The Immunity Syndrome (USS Intrepid)

- The Doomsday Machine (USS Constellation)

- The Tholian Web (USS Defiant).

Considering only 12 flagships were in the OG launch during Kirk's time, that is a solid 1/4 of the ships and crews that never made it back.

But those aren't even the ones that were partially destroyed with casualties, or all of the ships where 100% of the ship and crew did not return. There are more:

- The Excaliber was crippled and lost all hands in The Ultimate Computer, and severe damage was dealt to the Lexington, Potemkin, and Hood.

- The Exeter lost almost all hands in The Omega Glory.

So that's 8 of the 12 ships/crews that were launched circa Kirk's Enterprise 5 year mission that were either entirely destroyed, or severely damaged.

When you consider those odds and how so many extraordinarily capable and well trained crews never made it back, it makes the original series crew all the more remarkable.

Not only did they return with the flagship and crew relatively intact, but they literally became the standard on which Starfleet measured and trained others moving forward.

TLDR: They're kind of a big deal.

#star trek #tos #uss enterprise #tos crew #star trek tos #star trek meta #1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt #octrek #octrekmeta #kirk #spock #bones #sulu #uhura #chekov #scotty #ncc 1701

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storydays · 2 months

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Radio Killed Video Star P1

(3rd POV)

(Y/N) sat in his favorite seat as he continued drawing in his sketchbook, listening as Charlie paced nervously back and forth, and rant. He snickered as KeeKee paced back and forth with his sister.

"Okay. So the extermination is coming in 6 months instead of a year. No big deal, just a little setback. Nothing we can't handle. Just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!" Charlie asked manically.

"Yes. We will." Vaggie caught Charlie gripped her arms soothingly.

"Oh, please, ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit." Angel waved his hands around. "And now..." he paused as his phone buzzed angrily. "Ain't no silver lining this time, toots." He muttered.

"Sure there is. We just have to look a little harder for it." Charlie tried to remain positive. "Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts. People are already freaking out about the news." Angel waved his phone in the other's faces. "Look at what's happenin' in the Doomsday District." The tech revealed a demon screaming, as another message appeared on Angel's screen.

"Uh, what's a donkey show?" Charlie asked, squinting her eyes at the message. (Y/N) grimaced as he eyed Angel suspiciously.

"Aah, heh, nothing," Angel wouldn't dare ruin the princess's innocence. Especially not with her brother right fuckin' there! "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news, too." He covered his phone from curious, (or suspicious) eyes, before shrugging his shoulders. "Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

Vaggie looked up from where she was watching (Y/N) sketch. "Yeah, that's true. Sinners are desperate." "Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the extermination?" (Y/N) thought aloud, tapping his pencil against his lip.

Charlie gasped, breaking into a wide grin. "This is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!" Angel raised an eyebrow. "Cute idea and all, but you really going out in all of this?"

"Well, it's not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep." Charlie shrugged before yelping as an loud explosion disrupted the hotel.

"Show yourself, Alastor!" hissed a snake demon dramatically. "Come and face--" He paused looking for the Radio Demon, before catching sight of him sipping coffee, wearing a giant grin as usual. "Oh, there you are." The snake murmured. "FACE MY WRATH!" He hissed, over the speaker.

"Who are you?" asked Alastor raising an eyebrow.

"Who am I? Who am I? I am the great Sir Pentious! Inventor, architect of destruction, villan extraordinare!" During this introduction, Alastor melted into his shadow before appearing next to the Hazbin crew. Charlie looking in shock, Vaggie in annoyance, Angel with a raised brow, and crossed arms, and (Y/N) with a curious look.

"Woo! You tell 'em, boss." came a goofy voice over the loudspeaker.

Niffty gasped excitedly, as she popped on Alastor's shoulder. "Ooh, he's a bad boy."

Alastor huffed, as he gently set her down. "Huh, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you. Have you heard of him, (Y/N)?" The prince side eyed the red clad demon, sending him a look that said, 'Bitch...leave me out of this.'

"I attacked you literally last week." Pentious deadpanned, feeling irate as Alastor tilted his head in thought, narrowing his eyes. "We've done battle, like...20 times." the snake prompted.

"Well, you must be really bad at this." snarked the deer demon. "Silence! Now cower! For when I've slain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal!" Pentious laughed.

"Ooh!" exclaimed Niffty as she found her way back on Alastor's shoulders. "Wait, who are the Vees?" she asked. "Oh, nobody important." Alastor rolled his eyes, a slight twitch in his brow at the thought of the Overlords.

*Meanwhile in the city*

"New VoxTek designer voyeur scopes. Peeping on the neighbors have never been more stylish. VoxTek. Trust us with your money." cooed the TV announcer as demons ran into the stores. "This week's episode of "Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What? is brought to you by VoxTek. Trust us with your entertainment. VoxTek. Trust us. Trustustrustustrustustrustus...." The phrase continued to repeat a TV demon grinned from the electrical shocks coming from the tech in demons hands.

"Hahaha! Now that's good television!" His laughing fit was cut short by a phone call coming in on his screen. With a grin, he answered the call to reveal a scowling demoness.

"Hello there, Velvette. How are you this hellish morning?" He grinned into his coffee mug, turning away to another screen, working on something.

"Oh, cut the shit, Vox. I need you up here now!" Velvette snapped.

"Whatever could be the problem, my dear?" Vox asked. "Your little boy toy is wrecking my department while I'm trying to pull together a show and--" She was cut off by a male voice yelling, "Fucking bitch!"

Scowling deeper, she turned towards the screen. "Just get your ass here. Now! Dammit Valentino!" Velvette screeched, hanging up.

Vox's smile dropped as he sighed in irritation. "Oh God, here I go. Valentino. Just another fuckin' day with Val." He crossed his arms behind his back as he walked towards the lift. "Hey, hey, hey. Fuck my life." Vox scowled.

As the lift took him up to the main floor, he plastered a fake smile on his face. "Mr Vox! Mr Vox!" called multiple reporters as he approached. "Mr Vox! Over here!" They called before one demoness caught his attention, "Mr Vox, what are your thoughts on the new extermination deadline?" she asked.

"My dear people, we at VoxTek Enterprises have always been at the forefront of innovation. And now with this oncoming threat, we are shifting our focus to your protection. We are pleased to announce VoxTek Angelic Security is coming soon! Trust us with your saftey." Vox grinned, hypnotizing the crowd.

"Sir? Uh, when did we begin working on Angelic Security?" asked an assistant nervously. "30 seconds ago. " Muttered Vox as he walked pass the press, the assistant following.

"Try to get that bitch Carmilla on the books and cancel all my appointments today. I have a fire to put out upstairs." Vox rolled his eyes before disappearing into a camera to travel faster.

*Up on Velvette's floor.*

"Ugh, no. Unacceptable. You're fired." Velvette hissed at the designers, before zeroing in on one dress. "What is this? Wrist ruffles? Is it 1750? Burn it like the witches who wore it." The designer scurried away.

"Oh, Velvette." chuckled Vox as he appeared, watching the social media fashion designer demoness rub her temples. "I can see you're busy.Tell me where's our hot headed friend now?"

"Up in his tower, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down. " She shrugged. Sighing deeply, Vox put a grin on his face. "And uh, what's got him so out of sorts today?"

"Who knows? But he tore up my best female model!" Velvette grabbed a dismembered arm and used to start pointing at the TV demon, making him grin as he watched the pink haired demoness throw the arm. "And you know the show can't wait for that unlucky bitch to pull herself together."

"Melissa, get over here!" she called her next best female model. "No,no. Hideous, I want to do. Eww." Using her magic, she shuffled the outfits until a box with a bow appeared in front of Velvette. She quickly read the card, "Vel, sorry I can't make the show, but here are a few inspirations. ~ (Cute Nickname).❤️"Velvette grinned before using her magic again to put the newer designs on. "Yes, that's the one!"

"Well, it looks like you've got everything under control here." Vox grinned as Velvette playfully rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. Fuck you. Now shoo! Take care of the piss baby." She rolled her eyes again, before opening her phone to send a thank you text to a certain blond prince.

*Up by Valentino's office.*

Vox eyed the two assistants as they opened the door, before walking into the penthouse, raising an eyebrow at the figure sitting in a red cloud of smoke. The figure took notice of Vox's arrival, and sat up, glaring. "FUCKIN' FINALLY!"

The red figure threw a drink at the wall, turning to the assistant , "Kitty, another drink!" he demanded, the robot smiled before disappearing, and returning with a drink.

"Can you believe what that piece of shit did? The ungrateful whore!" He smashed the drink against the wall, making Vox simply step side the incoming glass.

"Um, which whore are we talkin' about this time?" Vox asked, boredly. "Fucking Angel Dust." He hissed. "Who the hell else would I be talking about?" Vox attempted to answer before Valentino stormed off. "That fucking slut walked out on me. Me. I fucking made him." The moth turned towards the window, while Vox pulled out his phone, checking his cameras.

"Without me, he's just a bag of meat with some mildly entertaining holes." Valentino squeaked as he made hand gestures.

"Angel quit?" Vox asked happily with a giant grin.

"No, he didn't fucking quit. It's worse; he moved!" roared the Moth as he threw Vox's phone against the wall, ignoring the annoyed look the TV demon sent at his hand as if realizing what happened. "He thinks he can just walk in here, work, and then go home somewhere else? Can you fucking believe that?"

"He thinks he can run off and shack up with Lucifer's bimbo daughter." Val grumbled as he stalked to a closet. "Angel is living with Lucifer's daughter now?" questioned Vox, as he turned towards the other overlord.

"Yeah, that bitch. Chalkie or Chandler, or I don't know. Something mannish like that. She's got this hotel--" Valentio paused before turning around with a pair of guns in his hands. "And which of these makes me look sexier?" he purred with a smirk.

Vox forced a laugh through his teeth. "What are you doing, Val? You're not going over there." He said firmly, using his hypnosis power.

"That slippery twink is going to remember who owns him. I'm going to fuck everyone on the rancid shithole, I swear to God." hissed Valentino.

Vox snapped grabbing the pimp by his fur, face lit up, a scowl on his face. "VAL!"

Plastering a smile on his face, he chuckled, as they walked together to look out the window. "Think about it: Our brand is perfection. And what do you think chasing whores around town will do for our image?" He asked,snatching the guns from Valentino.

"Uhh...fuck it up?" Val questioned. "Right!" grinned Vox, using a game show sound effect of cheers. "Do you want people thinking you can't control your employees?"

"No!" snapped the moth.

"Exactly. And hey, you still have him under contract, he isn't going anywhere. So you should....?" prompted Vox.

"Do nothing?" replied Val, hesitantly.

"Great idea! Now that's why they pay you the big bucks." Vox patted the moth's cheek, closing his eyes and placing his hands behind his back.

"But I really wanted to shoot someone." sighed Val as he held out a cigarette, waiting for Vox to light it.

Vox peeked an eye open before lighting the cigarette with a heart. "Well, let me call up the lowest earners this month." he compromised.

"Ooh, you know me too well." Valentino purred, chuckling darkly.

As Vox rummaged through the drawers, Val smirked. "You know, Angel isn't the only one spending time at this ratty hotel with the devil's princessa." "Oh, who else is there? Someone who owes you money?" Vox asked boredly.

Chuckling, Val continued, "Someone who owes us much more than money. The Radio Demon is there."

Vox glitched, digging his nails into the desk, before chuckling lowly. "Hahaha, what did you just say?" He asked, darkly, his hypnosis eye glowing, 3 lines on his face, showing his anger.

"You heard me."

"Alastor came back and he is with Lucifer's daughter," Vox started softly, slowly getting angry, "and that wasn't the first fucking thing you told me?!" He screamed, grabbing the moth's fur again.

"Hey, killing Alastor is your thing." grinned Val, as he watched the TV overlord zoom over to his cameras.

*Back at the hotel*

Sir Pentious yelled out in pain. "Arrgh. Oh! Please! Stop!" he begged as Alastor used his shadows to torture the poor demon.

"Um, Alastor?" called Charlie nervously. "I think he's had enough." Alastor continued to laugh loudly. Angel narrowed his eyes as if thinking before smirking, "Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im!"

Alastor tilted the blimp so the snake fell out and on the floor. "Thanks for another forgettable experience." Alastor swung his can around before leaning on it, looking at the snake mockingly.

"Thank you...for letting your guard down! Haha! Yah!" laughed Pentious as he snagged a piece of the Radio Demon's coat, before cowering. "Oh shit." He yelped seeing Alastor's shadow grow.

An explosion sent Sir Pentious flying, his scream echoing. "Arghhhhhhh!!!!"

Alastor watched with a grin before turning towards the rest of the Hotel members.

"Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor. Best of luck, chums." He waved before walking away.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie asked, "Alastor, we need your help! We need you to do your job."

"We need a wall." Angel deadpanned, gesturing to the broken wall.

"Of course. Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?" The deer asked, snapping his fingers before walking away. In his place, were a bunch of shadow demons with tools in their hands.

(Y/N) perked up, seeing the shadows. "Yo, Tommy, wassup, man?" He grinned, fist bumping another shadow who grinned back.

"Oh!: Angel giggled, shoving Vaggie to the side, before sashaying over to (Y/N) and the shadow demon. "Hey, sweet cheeks, who's your friend?" Leaning on the shadow's shoulder, he grinned. "Whatcha doin' later? I love me some men with giant....tools." Angel used his second pair of hands, to caress (Y/N)'s waist, and pull at his belt loop, suggestively, and his upper hands resting on Tommy's shoulder.

(Y/N) squeaked, cheeks a bright red, matching Charlie's before teleporting somewhere else in a vortex of shadows. Angel smirked to himself, 'Prince-y is so easy to rile up; and he's so cute when he's all flustered.' Angel didn't even realize how his own cheeks were a faint pink.

*Back at the Vs tower*

"See? Look how he flirts with those guys, and their not even paying! Who is that shadow dude? I'm gonna fucking kill his whole family! And the Lucifer's bastard son is there too? What the fuck?! Vox? Vox?!" He snapped, slamming a hand on the desk.

Vox continued to ignore him, as he buzzed with electricity, as he watched the Radio Demon walk away.

"That fucker is back!" He hissed.

"Yeah, I thought he was gone for good, too." replied Val as he continued to rile up the TV demon.

"It's been seven years." Vox growled.

"You still pissed he almost beat you that time?" cooed the moth.

"Uh, fuck you." spat Vox.

"Just saying," sang the heart themed pimp, as he leaned against the desk.

"Things have changed a lot since he left town." monologued Vox. "That's for sure." Val agreed.

"I've gotta send a message of who's really in charge now." Vox and Val chuckled darkly.

*With (Y/N)*

Hidden away in his bedroom, (Y/N) stood, staring at nothing before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. (Y/N)'s dog, Rocco, watched lazily from the prince's bed.

After his screaming fit, (Y/N) grabbed one of his sketch books, and leaned against his bed, and flipped through the pages, smiling at the multiple sketches of Angel Dust, and just thinking. (Y/N)'s dog, Rocco, barked happily before curling next to his boy.

(Y/N) would rather have his wings cut off with Vaggie's angelic spear then ever let the spider see this journal. Even with all the sexual innuendos and comments, (Y/N) was still intrigued by Angel, and wanted to see what was underneath.

He just wish he wasn't so damn easy to fluster. Angel 100% took advantage of that fact, but he couldn't help it. Yes, he grew up in Hell, and always had admiring fans wherever he went, but they only wanted the tittle.

Angel hadn't even known he was the prince until he'd appeared at the hotel after the failure that was the interview Charlie had with Katie Killjoy.

At the thought of the bitch, (Y/N) scowled.

Charlie told him what she said about the gays, and the next day, Katie's hair was burned off, and she was missing a few limbs, (they'll grow back...eventually...painfully 😈 ). When Charlie found out, she cast a look at her brother, who gave her a devilish grin, briefly showing her his demon form he kept carefully hidden.

It sucks that people don't give Charlie the respect that they give (Y/N); but Charlie also knew her brother had a darker side that an even greater respect to his name.

But Charlie introduced him as (Y/N), and Angel treated him like a normal person. Well, normal as it is for Angel. Even when Alastor greeted him as 'Prince', Angel continued to talk shit and flirt with (Y/N).

"Just because you got dat crown on your head, don't mean that's all you are. You'll always be (Y/N) to me." The Italian explained, seeing as (Y/N) was confused. When people realize who he is, they act completely different. But Angel acted like they were long time friends....(Y/N) hadn't had that since he was a helling himself.

Ever since then, the Spider had slowly made his way into (Y/N)'s heart.

When Angel didn't think anyone was watching, he would reveal a softer side, especially when it comes to his beloved pig, Fat Nuggets.

Sighing, (Y/N) curled on his side, Rocco, rumbling lowly before curling in (Y/N)'s outstretch arms, snuggling closer for warmth.

"One day, I'll tell him~❤️."

*A/N: Sorry for the delay! My dad is in the hospital, so I went to check on him and hang out; will keep you guys updated and see y'all next time!*

@avatar-lover

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lucifer #viziepop #storydays

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cantsayidont · 4 months

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While this ranks relatively low on my overall list of complaints about STAR TREK: DISCOVERY and STRANGE NEW WORLDS, something I find annoying about them is that they've really built up the size and strength of Starfleet to something closer to what it is in STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, which contradicts TOS in ways that have far-reaching story effects.

TOS repeatedly indicates that in that period Starfleet has only a handful of ships in the Enterprise's class, presumably because they're resource-intensive to build and operate. As Kirk and John Christopher discuss in "Tomorrow Is Yesterday":

CHRISTOPHER: Must have taken quite a lot to build a ship like this. KIRK: There are only twelve like it in the fleet.

That plainly doesn't mean that Starfleet has no other ships, but ships of what TOS describes as the "Starship" class ("Constitution-class" is a later coinage) are uniquely capable. As Merik, former commander of the SS Beagle, explains in "Bread and Circuses":

MERIK: He commands not just a spaceship, Proconsul, but a starship. A very special vessel and crew. I tried for such a command.

This special status is a central part of the premise of TOS: It's the reason why the Enterprise is assigned such a diverse array of duties, and why what the Enterprise does is so important to the plot. Even into the TOS cast movie era, we're frequently told that the Enterprise is the only ship in the sector capable of responding to a problem or threat, and the crew is rarely in a position to call for reinforcements even where that would be tactically or strategically advisable.

While that makes duty on one of these ships very risky (as evidenced by the number of the Enterprise's sister ships that are lost with all hands in TOS, including Constellation, Defiant, and Exeter), as Merik's remark indicates, it's also a plum assignment, and one for which there's obviously fierce competition. The TOS bible makes much of the fact that Kirk is the youngest person ever to command one of these starships, and he also appears to be one of the lowest-ranking. (Many of the other starship captains we see are fleet captains or commodores, as well as being older than Kirk.) This comes into play at a variety of points: For instance, it's at the root of Ben Finney's animosity toward Kirk in "Court Martial" (and presumably why Kirk's peers are quick to give him the cold shoulder when he's charged with negligence in Finney's apparent death), and it's part of the tension in "The Doomsday Machine," where Kirk and Spock have to maneuver around the fact that Matt Decker outranks Kirk and is clearly the senior officer.

The limited number of starships also provides a useful Watsonian explanation for the dichotomy of a capital warship (which the Enterprise unequivocally is) being used for scientific research and exploration missions. Although TOS is reluctant to say much about civilian life within the Federation, we can probably assume that such costly starships are the subject of a lot of political wrangling, and the different roles the Enterprise plays probably reflect those tensions: The Enterprise's scientific duties may be a concession to those who (like David Marcus in STAR TREK II) are wary of Starfleet's military role, and perhaps an effort to extract a greater civilian return on the Federation's obviously substantial military investment. It might also be a diplomatic ploy, or an attempt to maneuver around arms control treaties with rival powers like the Klingons and Romulans. (Arms-limitation treaties are probably the most plausible explanation for the Enterprise-A being so hastily decommissioned and its entire class apparently being mothballed shortly after STAR TREK VI.)

DISCOVERY and STRANGE NEW WORLDS pay lip service to the specialness of ships of the Enterprise's class while undermining the point by indicating that Starfleet also has hundreds if not thousands of other, slightly smaller starships with 80 or 90 percent of the Enterprise's capabilities, carrying out a similar range of missions. I can see why they've gone that way, and there's obvious precedent for it in the TOS cast movies, which depict several other classes of Starfleet ships, but interposing that into the TOS era inevitably weakens the premise of the original stories, and renders many of the conceits of TOS unintelligible. (If it were up to me, I would attribute the expanded range of ships to changes between TOS and the era of the movies, which are set years later and have different narrative priorities.)

This retroactive Starfleet expansion also exacerbates the increasingly jingoistic militarism of modern STAR TREK, which is uncomfortably pronounced in both the Abrams films (which got money from the Pentagon for it) and in the recent shows (which I suspect are also getting DOD money, although I haven't seen that specifically confirmed). The large-scale fleet maneuvers of the finale of PICARD, for instance, are frankly terrifying, and would be even without the contrivances of the plot. A Federation that celebrates "Frontier Day" with a massive display of military power within the solar system, obviously aimed at awing and intimidating citizen and adversary alike, seems like a pretty harrowing "post-scarcity socialist utopia," even by the standards of a show that's always been about the crews of a spacegoing navy doing interstellar colonialism.

#teevee #star trek #star trek tos #star trek discovery #strange new worlds

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bracketsoffear · 1 year

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Gunpowder Tim (The Mechanisms) "Ignoring his present day role as an immortal murderous space pirate, roving through the galaxy having “fun, violence” his origin story ballad, Gunpowder Tim vs the Moon Kaiser is basically world war 1 on the moon, with an Achillean inspiration. Tim is in the place of Achilles in this story, and after his best friend is killed, descends into a violent rage, and to include some convincing lyrics: “We’ll murder all the Lunar Men with fury heaven sent/And we’ll carpet Lenny’s tunnels with the rounds that we have spent/they tried to shake our firm resolve but haven’t made a dent/and their blood will run like wine.” “Take no prisoners give no quarter/show them all the color of their entrails on the floor/the Kaiser’s men are cattle to the slaughter/and their blood will run like wine.” “Their existence is a mad disease there needs to be a cull/upon their rancid soldier flesh out bayonets will dull.” The statements of wine, while a literary reference, show the delight and almost decadence Tim is viewing violence with, wanting it to be as abundant as wine. A later description of him by the First Mate: “So Gunpowder Tim cut a bloody red path/Through cannon and through infantry, dealing out his wrath/Battalions were gathered/and charged with his destruction/but all of them fell to his maddened corruption.” And, as if the battlefield origins and enjoyment of brutality isn’t enough, he is also musically aligned, both in lyric, with “the brutal hymn of gunpowder” as his “favorite song” and the slightly meta piece of info, the pirate crew he’s in is in-universe, a band.

Rachel (Animorphs) "The heavy-hitter of the guerilla resistance against alien mind-control brain slugs, Rachel very quickly becomes addicted to the thrill of battle. While all the Animorphs regularly kill people, she looks forward to it. She enjoys it so much that the rest of the team (and secretly, herself) are deeply disturbed by it. She once used her own amputated arm to beat someone to death. She murders her cousin by impaling him on her claws and chomping him like a shish kebab. When facing her death she only feels elated for the upcoming battle. She is so violent that Space Satan - basically a Fear Entity himself, an eldritch horror that craves fear and death - is a fan and offers her a job as a one-girl doomsday machine. She declines on account of being one of the "good guys", but recognizes that accepting his deal wouldn't actually change very much about her personally - it's just that her violence would be cast in a different light if she was "bad"."

#slaughter poll #the magnus archives #the mechanisms #animorphs #poll

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archerinventive · 2 years

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Happy Faire Friday!!

With faire season still in full swing I wanted to thank the lovely folks at Pacific Northwest Event Concepts for holding the Midguard Viking Festival this past weekend.

The crew and I had a lot of fun, even while mother nature did it’s best rendition of doomsday including everything from smoke, bugs, ashy skies, and a blood red moon. At least the atmosphere was on point with the vibes.

Here’s to next year and even more fun times. ⚔️

Also, a huge thank you to everyone for your Birthday wishes!! It means a lot. 💕

Skål!

Crew Credit from left to right: Rae, Emma Rockenbeck, Unicorn_shieldmaiden, Sarah Florian, and Loni D Fairman & A special thank you to Unicorn_shieldmaiden for letting me borrow her kit. It’s so pretty!!

#viking fest #viking #midguard viking festival #sword shenanigans #axe #shield #sword #knights of loreamour #archer inventive #birthday the barbarian way

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rbf451 · 10 months

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Joonas' ig story 24.6.2023

#blind channel #joonas porko #crew mikko #full force gräfenhainichen 24.6.2023 #doomsday summer 2023 #ig story #24.6.2023

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enderwalking · 2 years

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you will learn to fight

PHYSICALLY. (purpled facing off against quackity)

SOCIALLY. (the whole lnv crew lined up in the road)

MENTALLY. (quackity and sam in the prison with dream)

you will practice all aspects of WAR

and MASTER them (techno)

you are now gonna be taught

how to BE human. (tommy)

how to THINK like humans. (dream on a podium with president tubbo beside him)

how to SPEAK like humans. (tommy on the podium in front of the crowd on nov 16)

their anatomy. (schlatt)

their feelings. (dream and tommy in exile)

their emotions. (pogtopia wilbur)

why they laugh. (techno spawning withers)

why they cry. (ranboo with an allium)

why they fight. (og lmanberg)

what's their downfall. (wilbur in the button room)

what mistakes do they make. (dream team + punz)

what accomplishments do they have. (sam in front of the prison)

their motives. (tommy and techno on opposite sides during doomsday)

their objectives. (wider shot of doomsday)

what is evil? (bad, ponk, and ant with the egg)

what is good? (the whole lnv crew again)

every human is different. you're going to study every single one of them. (flashing between characters: george, sapnap, phil, tommy, tubbo, quackity, karl, phil, jack, foolish, fundy, dream, sam, punz)

#lei talks lore

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wren-of-the-woods · 3 months

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On Doomsdays and Devotion

After the Enterprise’s most recent brush with death, Jim notices that Spock is sticking closer to him than usual. The conversation that ensues is unexpectedly impactful. This is 2.5k of pre-Spirk feels, rated G. On AO3 here!

Jim was fairly certain that Spock had been following him.

It did not happen all the time. It did not disrupt either of their duties. In fact, it had taken him a few days to convince himself that he was not imagining it, especially since he was still distracted by dealing with the fallout of their most recent incident with a planet-killing weapon. Still, once he started paying attention, the fact remained: when Spock would normally have been off on his own doing science experiments or reports or whatever else Spock did when he was away from Jim, he was, instead, quietly by Jim’s side.

Spock sat next to Jim at meals. He accompanied him in the gym. He sat in the same room as Jim when they were doing reports. Even when they were not together, Spock often found reasons to pass Jim in the corridor, speak to him briefly, or grab something from whatever room Jim was in on his way from task to task.

Jim did not mind this. In fact, he probably should have been slightly worried about just how little Spock’s frequent presence bothered him, but he could not quite bring himself to analyze that part of his feelings too deeply. Suffice to say that he was not irritated by the shift in his first officer’s behavior. He was, however, slightly concerned.

At one point, he attempted to bring it up with the Vulcan in question.

“Mister Spock,” he said, smiling, “Is there something you would like to discuss with me?”

Spock blinked at him. If it were anyone else, Jim would almost have said he looks sheepish.

“No, captain.”

Jim bit back a sigh. He did not expect Spock to simply tell him whatever was going on, not after so many days of silence, but it still would have been nice.

“Very well,” said Jim, and the conversation was forgotten. Jim almost began to ignore the unusual occurrence entirely.

Then, one night, well over a standard week after the incident with their most recent planet-killer, Jim suddenly found that he could no longer hold himself together.

He was off duty, which was fortunate, but that was just about the only thing that felt fortunate about the situation. The events of their most recent adventure — the death of his friend, the possibility and reality of such destruction, how close he had come to his own death — had finally caught up to him, and all he could do was hightail it to his quarters and hope he made it before his crew has to witness their captain having a minor meltdown. He ended up hiding in his room for a good portion of the evening, a few hours which he would rather not talk about, before eventually deciding he had pulled himself together enough to justify going out in search of some food.

After everything, it really should not have been a surprise that Spock was there when he emerged.

His first officer was attempting to look nonchalant, but given that there was very little reason for his presence in this corridor at this time and it was highly unlikely that he simply happened to be here at the moment Jim left his room, Jim thought he was doing a rather poor job of it. He looked distinctly unsurprised by Jim’s presence.

“Mister Spock,” he said, trying to act casual and not as though he had spent the last few hours working through a series of extremely strong emotions. “Is something wrong?”

Spock looked at Jim consideringly for a moment. Jim resisted the urge to fidget under his gaze.

“The ship is in standard working order, captain,” Spock said.

“That isn’t a no.”

“Correct. You are experiencing emotional distress.”

Jim winced a little. “That obvious, huh?”

“To an average member of the crew, likely not. I, however, can make out eleven separate physiological and psychological signs that—”

Jim raised a hand to cut him off. “Very well, Mister Spock, I understand. You’re right.” He quirked a small smile. “Even the great Captain Kirk can’t see his friend die without experiencing any unpleasantness, I’m afraid.”

“You also came close to death, captain.”

Jim blinked. “Yes, that too, I suppose.”

Spock’s lips thinned almost imperceptibly, but he said nothing. For a moment, they stood there in rather awkward silence.

“Well,” said Jim eventually, “I was going to get some food. Would you like to accompany me?”

“I would find that acceptable, captain.”

Spock fell easily into step beside him as they made their way towards the mess hall. They were silent as Jim got some food and sat down with his plate. Spock sat across from him, though he had not taken any food from the replicators. The room was empty due to the late hour and the lights were dimmed. In the silence, Spock’s presence seemed to have more significance than really made sense.

Jim ate in silence for several long moments. Spock considered him from across the table. Eventually, to Jim’s surprise, it was Spock who broke the silence.

“Would you like to speak about the subject of your distress?” asked Spock.

Jim paused. His instinct was to refuse, to focus on the mission instead of his distraction and only talk about it later, perhaps in his logs or on shore leave with Bones and copious amounts of alcohol. He usually did his best to keep Spock from having to deal with any more of his human emotions than is necessary. But Spock was asking, now, and though the Vulcan would deny it if he ever dared to make the claim, Jim could tell that he was worried. He could not bring himself to refuse his friend’s offer.

“It… troubles me, when I can’t save someone.”

Spock’s brows furrowed. “You were not on the ship at the time of Decker’s departure. It was not your responsibility to save him, nor was it possible for you to do so.”

Jim managed a small, sad smile. “I know. That doesn’t mean it’s easy to remember.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, and they returned to the silence in which the meal had begun. Jim finished his food, pushed his plate aside, and looked at Spock consideringly. Spock returned his gaze, even and unflinching.

“There’s something on your mind, Mr Spock. Care to share?”

Spock considered him for a moment. When he spoke, it was with deliberation.

“It concerns me, captain, that you give such little importance to your own near demise.”

Jim blinked.

“I had no desire to die,” he said.

“And yet you came perilously close to doing so.”

“It was the best way to save the ship.”

“Perhaps, sir, but you must take into account the way your death would have affected the ship and its crew. Productivity would have decreased at a significant rate and the emotional fallout would have affected many of the crew for at least several years.”

Jim frowned. “A grieving crew is better than a dead crew. I wouldn’t be much of a captain if I couldn’t value my ship above myself.”

“You may be correct, captain. However, I would still strongly advise you to utilize more caution in the future.”

Jim’s brows furrowed. “Where is this coming from, Spock? This isn’t the first time I’ve almost died.”

Spock hesitated. Jim noticed, for the first time, a shadow of vulnerability hidden bleeding through the edges of Spock’s mask of Vulcan control. He felt his expression soften.

“Spock,” he said gently, “Why have you been following me?”

Spock looked down at his hands where they were calmly clasped together, resting on the table. “It is illogical, captain.”

“You? Illogical? Somehow I doubt that.”

“Even the best of us have our flaws.”

Despite the strange tension in the air between them, Jim could not help but chuckle at that.

“Very true.” Then, when a moment of silence went by without Spock responding, he prompted, “Well?”

Still looking at his hands, Spock paused for a moment before speaking. “I admit that I would have found it most disagreeable if you had lost your life in that mission.”

“I wouldn’t have exactly been pleased with it either.”

Spock continued as though Jim had not spoken. “Were you to perish, the ship would feel your absence most keenly.”

Jim considered him for a long moment before, throwing caution to the winds, he spoke. “And you? Would you feel it?”

For the first time in several moments, Spock finally looked up and met Jim’s eyes. “I admit that I would, captain.”

Jim swallowed. If Spock were human, Jim would have reached across the table to take his hand, but as it was, he contented himself with holding his earnest gaze.

“I’m sorry I concerned you.”

“Thank you,” said Spock. “Though I admit that I appreciate it more if you refrained from doing so again in the future.”

“You know I can’t promise that, Spock.”

Spock’s brow furrowed slightly. “I am aware, captain. However, that does not mean I am pleased by this fact.”

Jim smiled a little, gentle and a bit sad. “I thought Vulcans were not capable of displeasure.”

Spock looked Jim in the eye, tilting his head slightly. “When it comes to you, I find a great many capable of a great many things.”

Jim opened his mouth. He closed it again.

“I see,” he said, rather lamely.

Spock frowned. “Captain, I do not think you realize the importance of this matter.”

“It’s my life. I’d say I have a pretty good sense of how important it is.”

“And yet you are acting as though you do not realize how significant it is to those around you.”

“A captain’s life is lived in service of his ship and his crew”

“The importance of your existence is not found solely in your captaincy, Jim.”

Jim gave Spock a long, considering look. “Are you trying to tell me something, Spock?”

“It is also found, among other things, in your status as a friend.”

Jim was silent, digesting this. Spock looked at him for a long moment, then, unprompted but with uncharacteristically visible hesitance, spoke again.

“I have been maintaining a proximity to you that is closer than average for the last eight point three days because, unreasonable and improper as it may be, I have found your presence an illogically reassuring reminder that you did not, in fact, perish during our last mission.”

“Oh,” said Jim softly.

This time, he was unable to keep himself from reaching out to place a hand on Spock’s sleeve, just above the wrist. Spock looked down at the place where their skin didn’t quite touch, seeming to consider it, but did not protest the contact. Jim took this as permission to leave his hand where it is.

“I’m sorry to have caused you pain,” he said. It was a testament to the weight of the conversation that Spock only frowned slightly at this, not bothering to protest the implications of emotion in Jim’s statement. “I’m safe now. I promise I had no intention of letting the universe get rid of me this easily.”

Jim paused for a moment, thinking, then forged ahead with all the boldness of the man who had recently faced death without flinching.

“You know I had to do it, though,” he said.

Spock’s frown deepened slightly. “The machine’s destruction was logically necessary for the sake of the galaxy. However, the specific method chosen was perhaps not—”

Jim held up a hand to stop him. “I’m aware of your thoughts on my methods. I’m talking about my motivation.”

Spock’s frown grew less displeased and more considering. “In that case, please elaborate.”

Jim couldn’t help a small, fond smile at Spock’s words. “I knew it had to be destroyed for the sake of the galaxy, but that wasn’t really what I was thinking about when I did it.” His smile faded into seriousness as he spoke. He maintained eye contact with Spock. “I was thinking about my crew. About how my friends— my family would be destroyed if I did not act.” He gently squeezed Spock’s forearm where his hand still rested on his sleeve. “I was thinking about you.”

Spock was silent. Jim studied his face, trying to parse the emotions he could almost feel hiding behind Spock’s Vulcan control. There was surprise, he thought, and perhaps confusion, but also something deeper, perhaps more vulnerable or more tender. He could not make it out.

Jim found that he could not let this conversation stagnate in silence, not without knowing for certain that Spock understood him.

“So,” he said, “I hope you realize that this feeling goes both ways.”

Spock’s brows furrowed just slightly. “Clarify.”

“I… value your presence. Very highly. I, um,” Jim paused, took a deep breath, then forged on quickly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He swallowed. “Please don’t make me find out.”

Spock paused. He considered Jim for a long moment. For some reason, Jim grew increasingly nervous under his scrutiny.

“I am gratified to know that you understand the sentiment,” Spock said eventually. “I will endeavor to act in the interest of self-preservation.”

Jim relaxed a little, letting a smile slip onto his face. “That’s all I can ask for. Thank you.”

“And you will endeavor to do the same?”

Jim lifted his hand from Spock’s arm and held it out to shake. “It’s a deal.”

Too late, he remembered the vast differences between the cultural norms of humans and Vulcans when it came to touch and fingers in particular. He made to withdraw his hand, slightly sheepish.

Before he could move and without breaking eye contact, Spock reached forward and took his hand.

Jim felt a spark of warmth, almost a tingling sensation, travel up his arm and down his spine at the touch. Spock’s hand was dry and very warm. His gaze was serious, earnest in a way Jim rarely saw from him. Jim found that he could not look away.

“A deal,” Spock repeated, his voice soft and low. Jim found himself fighting back a shiver.

Before Jim could pull himself together and return to his senses long enough to speak, Spock released his hand and stood. Jim looked up at him, blinking dumbly, as Spock nodded at him.

“This conversation has been most profitable, captain. Thank you for your time.”

“It— uh, it was my pleasure.” Jim winced internally, abruptly glad the room was empty but for the two of them. He doubted his suave reputation would survive intact otherwise.

Jim could have sworn he saw Spock smirk at him as he turned to go. He found himself smiling softly in return as he watched Spock leave.

When Jim returned to his quarters, he found that he felt much better than he had when he left them last. The emotional toll of the mission was not completely lifted, of course, but the reminder that he had his first officer at his side made it feel easier to bear. The thought of Spock’s concern for his well-being made him made him feel oddly warm.

And, if it was the memory of Spock’s hand on his — of the warmth of his touch, the thinly veiled feeling in his eyes, the emotions that sparked in Jim’s own chest at the contact, and the promise of, maybe, someday, something more — that eventually lulled him to sleep with a smile on his face, that was no one’s business but his own.

#star trek tos #spirk #kirk x spock #james t kirk #spock #star trek #wren writes #*waves shyly* hello star trek fandom!#this took FOREVER because writing has been really slow lately but i finally came up with a title i'm happy with so here you go :D #there should be more fic for both witcher and star trek on its way soon! <3 #also first fic of 2024 let's go!!!!#man it's been ages since i posted a new fic that wasn't a collaboration

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