never satisfied
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āHuh,ā she answered ā just a surprised noise, a huff of voice. Quiet, but enough that she didnāt need to sign.
For a few minutes, she stood like that, hands over the warmth until they stopped searing painfully. She wiggled them, experimentally... then leaned her face towards his warm hands.
āCan you make food, too?ā Sheās mostly joking, but her face is deadpan.
siriseenā:
Ā Ā What? He couldā¦ make warmth?Ā
Ā Ā He could make light, so ā perhaps that shouldnāt come as much of a surprise. But still, it was a bit like magic, to feel heat radiating from hands outstretched. She reached out, put her hand above it. It feltā¦ good. The numbness in the tips of her fingers burned, in response to the ebb of energy, but she didnāt pull away. Not until a question came to her mind.Ā
Ā Ā āYou donāt need to be warm to make this heat? If not from you, where does the heat come from?āĀ
He retracted his hand when she formed a question, and after getting it, Galfore thought about how to best word it for a moment before he began signing back. āMy people, we have an energy within.ā There were various ideas of what exactly their energy was, but it probably didnāt really matter for a good explanation. āIt gives us strength, and this energy. We can use it for light, for cleaning ourselves, for sealing wounds, for warmth, and to fight.ā And that was only a basic summary. āThe energy is a part of us, but it does not depend on our warmth. It connects with our emotions.ā That might make it sound too difficult though, if he continued on that. For now, he held out his warmth-glowing hand again for if she wanted more of the warmth.
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The words are clear enough with what sheās taught her. Ship, I, placeā no, moveā no... drive, obviously. And Sirise smiles, all mirthful amusement at the thought of driving the Rigel Jāhordak. You really want to get us killed, donāt you? she thinks, entertained enough with the consideration.
But, of course, Sirise doesnāt want to get killed. She didnāt come talking to the prisoners to get killed. Neither did she do it to break out. Thatās the plan, eventually, of course ā she has to get out of here, one day. But today? Tomorrow? Thatās impossible. Naiycuh still narrowly wins when they scrabble. Thereās no way she could beat her ā no way she could figure out how toā no way to ā...
But... having an accomplice would help. With her new friendās claws and teeth along with hers, she may actually... win.
Hm...
Sirise stares at her PADD, trying to decide what to say. O.K., she types, and looks at it for a moment. Should she really commit to this? Will she actually go through with it? Does it actually matter if she doesnāt? After all, if she doesnāt save this girl, sheāll just be sold off. It wonāt tarnish Siriseās reputation, or anything.
Better safe than sorry, though. She erases the O.K., writes something else.
This is how you sign āleaveā. She teaches, waits for repetition, enough that she feels good moving to the next word. This is how you sign ātakeā. Another sign, another moment of teaching. This is how you sign ākillā. Perhaps a menacing sign to learn, but she wants to give her new wolf friend all the options, of course...
If we break out the rest of these people are going to get caught up in it some way or another. They may alert someone or be found and get us caught. What do you want to do with them?
And she watches.
To see how much of a wolf her new friend really is.
The screen is only turned to her for a second, but itās long enough for her to have read the short sentence written out there.
Weāre both trapped. If she could just get this stupid field downā
āAnywhere!ā It is as descriptive as she can be when she has no idea where in the galaxy she is, where this ship is going, how far they are from her home system by now. For all she knows, she could be on the other side of the galaxy, lost forever with stars sheās never seen before and languages that are so strange and different she would never be able to talk to anybody ever again.
Ly throws both arms out to the side, indicating here, there, everywhere.
āItās better than being trapped here. My dad started to teach me about ships and how to fly them.ā Starships have been her second home, what with her fatherās position, and just like with the preparations for First Shift, heād begun to teach her a little about what he did for when she eventually was to succeed him.
Sheās far from a trained expert, but in the moment, itās better than nothing. All they need is the chance.
She looks at the PADD in Siriseās hands and growls a little, frustrated once again by this barrier to communication that is thicker than the forcefield keeping her trapped in the cargo hold.
Ship. She taps at the floor and gestures to the walls and the air around them. I, she jabs a clawed finger toward her chest, will fly. Ly puffs out her cheeks and acts out sitting in the pilotās chair, grabbing the manual controls, and makes a loud sound that may or may not supposed to be the sound of a ship jumping to warp.
āYou, me, go,ā she signs, looking pointedly toward the door.
āAnd if they try to stop us, Iāll fight.ā Ly snarls at the door, looking every bit the wild animal her kind have been likened to, baring fangs and claws toward an invisible enemy.
āWhat if we wait and they know somebody there? Thatās dangerous. Bad.ā
And how can I talk to anybody there?
āIf you canā¦ā Ly shifts her attention back to the forcefield. āAhā¦ā
'This,ā she signs. The forcefield. 'No.ā Off. Turn it off. Break it.
'Weā¦go.ā
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12.17.23
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@hookd
Pointed teeth, pointed nails, pointed eyebrows, elbows, ribcage, shards in her stomach. Everything she is is angled, inwardly or outwardly, digging into her own flesh, crescent moons carved into her palms, ragged breaths from between a snarled maw, bare feet pattering.
Anxiety, anger, feeling overwhelms her, broad strokes, dizzying, blinding, making her stagger, making her hands shake. Just a little further. Up on that platform. Now stand still. Watch the door. Now hold your breath.
The nausea from her first transport beam is nothing in comparison to the terror she feels in her limbs from the realization that sheās actually done it. For the first time in her life, sheās off the fucking ship.
Sheād laugh, if she werenāt so afraid of making noise.
And she should be ā she hears something. Creaking of a hallway, like boots are running. She spins, searches for an exit that ought to be there ā and there is one. A Jefferies Tube. She wrenches it open, climbs in, closes it behind her, quickly.
It makes a noise. Maybe whoever has heard. On her heels and hands, she crawls backwards from the port entrance. They canāt find her. If they find her, and make her go back, sheāllā sheāllā...
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Iām gonna take the L here guys, I didnāt know how good AI voices would become in such a short amount of time. By the 2100+s, theyād be like, superb. So Iām saying that Sirise does use the option where her mic speaks verbally for her, like, more often than Iād insinuated before. She probably flips back and forth between that and text. Anywayā yup, this is just a little update!
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Nonverbal RP Starters
Iām finding it difficult to find memes for nonverbal characters ( be they mute, or just not fond of talking ) so I thought Iād make a few!
Neutral
āļø Tap my muse on the shoulder
š Point to something for my muse to see
š¤ Bump into my muse
š Sit down next to my muse
š¤Ø Sit down across from my muse
š Push/Slide [an object] across a table to my muse
āļø Pass my muse a note
š Roll their eyes at my muse
šŖ Tap on a table/door/wall/chair to get my museās attention without speaking
Aggressive
šŗ Growl at my muse
š¬ Snarl/show teeth at my muse
š Death Glare at my muse
š Push/Shove my muse
š Punch my muse
š Kick my muse in the shin
š Stomp on my museās foot
šµ Knee my muse in the gut
š Knee my muse in the groin
šŖ Point a weapon at my muse
š Flip my muse the bird/a similar gesture
š Roughly pull my muse down by the collar
š¢ Bang on a door/wall/table to get my museās attention- angrily
Angst
š©āāļø Put pressure on my museās wound
š” Push my muse down to give them medical attention
š„£ Bring my muse soup/medicine when they are sick
š¤¢ Hold my museās hair back/Rub my museās back while they are sick/throwing up
š Hold my muse when they are badly wounded/dying
š Wake my muse up during a nightmare
š± Hold my muse after a nightmare
š Hold my muse when they are crying
š¢Touch my museās shoulder while they are crying in secret
š§ Wipe away my museās tears
š„ Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment
ā Find my muse after some kind of trauma
Soft
š Tug on my museās sleeve/shirt/skirt
š Lean against my museās side
š¤ Hold my museās hand
š¤ Pull my muse into a hug
š Rest their head on my museās shoulder/knee
š¶ Nuzzle my muse with their nose [specify a location]
ā Touch the back of my museās hand
š¤ Reach for my museās hand to hold it
š Fix/Straighten my museās clothes
š“ Stand by the bed to see if my muse will let you under the covers with them
š Crawl under the covers with my muse
š„Ŗ Set a plate/tray/bowl of food down for my muse
š Kiss my muse on the cheek
Playful
šø Put a flower in my museās hair
āØ Playfully shove my museās shoulder
š Pull my muse onto a dance floor/up to dance
š¤ Come up beside them and tap the shoulder opposite where theyāre standing
š Jump out of the shadows to scare/startle my muse
š Stick their tongue out at my muse
š± Make a silly face at my muse
š¤ Tickle my muse
š Poke my museās nose
šŖ Pick my muse up
Sensual/Sexual
š Pull my muse in for a rough kiss
š Pull my muse in for a tender kiss
š Pull my muse in for a messy/desperate kiss
š Lean in to give my muse a sweet/chaste kiss
ā¤ļø Lean in to give my muse a tender kiss
š„ Pull my muse down by the collar/by their clothes - in a sexy way
š Pull my muse in by the hips
š² Smack my museās butt
š Kiss my museās neck
š Push my muse down and give them a massage
š Pull [an article of clothing] off my muse
š Push my muse down on the bed
š Pull my muse onto the bed
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Frustration again ā understandable, because it seems Siriseās really misunderstood this time, by the amount of nos she gets. Her fingers flash an āO.K., O.K.,ā before she remembers that she doesnāt know what those words mean ā and sheād probably find it somewhat patronizing, had Sirise explained.
Itās fine, though ā thereās more to be said, to be gleaned, to be read.
Hear, know, she says. And Sirise understands ā truly, she does. She wants to know what Naiycuh and the others are saying. If she doesnāt want to talk to Naiycuh, then itās a survival instinct thatās grabbing at her. A very similar one taught Sirise Federation Standard and Orion. (It wasnāt as if her mother sat cross-legged on the ground with flash cards for her!) It makes sense ā and more than that, she can almost see herself now, in this similarly aged girl sat across from her.
Sirise doesnāt have too much time to ponder that, though. Thereās more to sayā the prisoner (well, the other one) ā continues.
We what? I want here.
Itās almost a perfect here ā but itās the small differences that make up Sign, and life itself, too.
The other follows it up with a scratch at the forcefield, which intrigues Sirise far too much. She looks for injury, but, to her disappointment, the new signer hasnāt injured herself ā even if it was clearly painful, by the shrill noise she released.
She wants to get out. Thatās what sheās saying. Anyone could read it, even without Siriseās sharp eye.
You and me both, she writes and shows. A stab of regret, and Sirise turns the PADD back on herself quickly; it was there long enough maybe for the other toāve read.
When the PADD is turned towards the other again, the previous words are wiped clean.
Where would you even go? Weāre in the middle of space. Itās better to wait until weāre near a planet or station. Then youād have somewhere to go.
siriseenā:
Ā Ā Siriseās new friend makes a noise that sounds like an utterance of shock, and Sirise smiles, because things are so similar, even when so different. Sheās grumbled in awe, too, more than once. They are from totally different planets, in completely different systems, with lives that were never meant to even cross. And now they have, and theyāre so similar, so alike.Ā
Ā Ā It gives her hope, perhaps, that people out there will be forthcoming to her. That people will see themselves, in her, enough to trustĀ her.Ā
Ā Ā Even so different ā maybe thereās something in her thatās like others, too.Ā
Ā Ā I want to know, her friend says, and Sirise watches, head half-tilted, in curiosity at what could come next. The door. Naiycuh. I want to know how Naiycuh speaks.Ā
Ā Ā And then she points to both of them, and the door again.
Ā Ā Siriseās come to understand the door as meaning themĀ ā and the sign is the same, so it makes sense, both in the context of the conversation and in the way she understands Signs. But what she doesnāt understand is exactly what her friend wants. To know how Naiycuh speaks, yes. Butā¦ what was that part about the both of them and them?Ā
Ā Ā Thereās only one conclusion Sirise can come to in her mind, and it is absolutely ridiculous.Ā
Ā Ā You want to speak to Naiycuh? She hates how her hands shake as she types it, and she forces them steady, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.Ā Are you crazy? If she finds out weāre talking together, sheāll kill me and you. We barely have worth to her. You donāt want to threaten that and make her think weāre utterly worthless. Itās part of the reason why Sirise keeps working. Sheās worth something, now, as a janitor ā if Sirise ever lost that small amount of value sheād gained, Naiycuhād absolutely go back on the promise she made to Vattu and kill her. Probably in front of him.Ā
Ā Ā And I canāt speak so I canāt teach you how to speak like her anyway. And donāt even think about asking my father for help. Heād rat us out in a heartbeat. Do you know what pheromones are? Naiycuh uses hers to keep all the people on her ship completely devoted to her. Theyāre in love with her. They canāt even think of betraying her or doing something to hurt her. My father wonāt help. Iām the only one immune to her. Youāve only got me.Ā
Ā Ā Itās only after she shows that message to her that the pattering of her heart eases out from her ears, searing hot anxiety crawls down from her throat, and she realizes how she sounded. Probably controlling, and harsh, and all the horrible things she wasĀ but she didnāt want people to know.Ā
Ā Ā Iām sorry, she types next. I didnāt mean to be so rude. Itās just a very very VERY bad idea.Ā
Ā Ā Ā She knows thereās the very real and likely chance that her words will be misinterpretedāshe knows only so few words in this sign language and she has to speak as if sheās just a child learning to talk for the first timeābut that knowledge doesnāt stop the frustration from finding its way back to her face. Sirise was good at guessing her words before, but she must not have been clear enough.
Ā Ā Ā Itās still frustrating, going from knowing so much and being able to get her point across so easily to talking in broken words like sheās never had a conversation before in her life.
Ā Ā Ā This time, she adds a huff to that look of frustration and shakes her head so fervently that her hair flies up, forming a cloud of fire around her head. A few wavy strands catch on the points of her long ears.
Ā Ā Ā āNo!ā she exclaims, but in her excitement does not miss the way Siriseās hands tremble on the PADD, the different way her nails click against the screen when she types. āI donāt want to talk to her.ā No, talking to the woman is the last thing on her mind, even if she knew whatever language Naiycuh knewāwhat she would do goes far beyond the realm of talking.
Ā Ā Ā Itās something far more instinctual and primal, something sharp and hungry shaped by fear and defiance, anger and a want for her life back. It is that want to live at all costs, that natural feeling all Kovans her age are warned about as they reach the age of maturityāto come of age means to accept and learn to live withĀ all of themselves.
Ā Ā Ā She has never felt anything quite like this before. When the time came, she thought sheād be navigating more of these feelings in a familiar environment with some sort of backup, but here she has only herself and whatever grip on control she can try and latch onto.
Ā Ā Ā She thinks, for the first time, about what it would be like to tear someone apart with nothing but her own strength.
Ā Ā Ā āI donāt trust those people,ā she says with a shake of her head, knowing thatās the only thing Sirise will understand, but she finds she needs to talk anyway, to at least say whatās on her mind. āI donāt want their help either. If weāre stuck here, I need to understand.ā Her hands fly to her ears againālisten, she tries to conveyāand know.
Ā Ā Ā āWe canāt stay here and wait for her to kill us.ā Or whatever they plan to doāshe doesnāt know yet which exactly is the worse fate, being sold or being killed, for the way she sees it, they end the same way. Here or there, with these people or someone else, she gets hurt or dies. āWe need a plan.ā
Ā Ā Ā There are so many other things she wants to say about those messages, things that spring to her tongue that she ultimately forces herself to swallow down because thereās no pointāwithout a translator, sheās wasting her breath. She knows. But if nothing else, from this misunderstanding, sheās learned a little more about this ship and those people, reaffirmed that anything that could even be remotely considered a friend is in short supply.
Ā Ā Ā Maybe that was the reason for Sirise telling her all that, she thinks momentarily, to reaffirm how pointless it is, how alone she is.
Ā Ā Ā But then againāøŗSirise is there, isnāt she?
Ā Ā Ā āThen what do we do?ā
Ā Ā Ā āWeāwhat?ā How can I get out where you are? she thinks next, points at first to herself then gestures aimlessly to the room theyāre locked in, the space beyond the buzzing forcefield.Ā āI wantāthere.āĀ
Ā Ā Ā And to truly get her point across, she makes what can only be described as a stupid decision and cleaves at the space in front of her with her claws. The forcefield doesnāt give. She knew it wouldnāt. It bites back, sends a wave of pain lancing all the way up into her shoulder that she conveys with a yelp, but the message should be clear: out.Ā
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I apparently have five notifications but Tumblr says thereās no activity sooooooooo š
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We're accepting canon, original, and crossover characters for a brand new, Discord-based Star Trek roleplay group! Officially opening March 1.
Read our rules and guidelines here.
Read our available crew roster here.
Join our Discord server here.
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the hottest thing a hero can do is be completely doomed from the start & know it & keep going <3
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entpilotā:
@siriseenāĀ requested a starterĀ
Ā it was nothing more than a scratchā¦ three days ago. that was when she noticed it at least. she must have gotten it on her last away mission. she doesnāt remember getting it. what she did know was that it was painful, inflamed and itchy. whatever had scratched her was more of a problem than she had initially thought. for such a small scratch, the way her skin reacted to it seemed extreme. however, alien unknown planet, unknown everything about it. it didnāt seem like so much of a problem until the scratch began to itch, so medical bay was her assignment for that day. Ā
she planned to not take up medicals time unless it was really needed. pike however didnāt think so. with a Ā swish of the door, she sighed walking in. āI was told to get this scratch looked at.ā
Ā Ā It was a slow day in the medbay, one free of catastrophes. Any doctor would be elatedĀ to have a quiet medbay ā but Sirise was not anyĀ doctor. She was born of blood, of metal, of fire, and a day without something, at the veryĀ least, upon which to puzzle and ponder was a day of utter boredom.Ā
Ā Ā Then, her favorite sound in the world ā doors sliding open.Ā
Ā Ā Itās the helmsman. Swift footsteps, succinct words, and... what do they have here?Ā
Ā Ā Siriseās at a loss, momentarily, staring at swollen skin, red and agitated, bumpy and enraged. She looks at Erica in askance.Ā
Ā Ā āLieutenant... what happened?āĀ
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*puts my hand on your shoulder* listen. I DID mean to make you upset and i DO think your opinions are shit
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zuufenrovaanā:Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā the two of them stare at one another, evaluating unyieldingly āā until her figure sways unexpectedly back, and she begins barking at the branches overtop. the noise startles him, and his validated tension bursts into his hands. by instinct alone, his fingers race behind his shoulder and snatch two arrows from their quiver, ready to marry to his bow. as well, he springs to his feet, hoping to put a pace or two of distance between themā¦ but he doesnāt. instead of following through with whatever it was his adrenaline had planned, rivak stops and listens.
Ā Ā Ā Ā he had expected, still, the ghost of pain in his ankle when he stood, and didnāt find it. he had also expected this stranger to grow louder, and she hadnāt. the cry was over as soon as it had begun, soon enough for rivak to hear a bird fleeing to the safety of anywhere-but-here. his head turns to look at it, watching its path of flight until the trees overtake it, and then looking overhead at the branch from which it flew. he watches it bounce, trying to determine the birdās weight. if its presence was an omen, knowing the birdās identity would prove useful in deciphering itā¦
Ā Ā Ā Ā ā¦but then his head swivels again, back to his company, and heās reminded of the lack of pain in his ankle, a testament to her skill. skillā¦ that one would not devote on him, if they were not of good intent. still wary, but less than he just was, his fingers release, and the arrows sink back down as if they, too, are embarrassed.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āuhā¦ā he blinks at her signing, needing an extra moment or two to take it in. when she moves forward and hits him, his shoulders rise, but his eyes are not wary now āāā they are wide and bewildered. the inappropriateness of looking so shocked in the face of her joy is not lost on him.
Ā Ā Ā Ā whatās your name ?Ā Ā his least favourite question, just below whatās valenwood like ?, but for opposite reasons. unlike valenwood, it is correct for people to assume he knows what his name is, and he does !Ā but the long pause he gives her inĀ search for an answer might not be very convincing. itās her fault, he thinks, for startling him so much, so she can deal with it. āname, name. vuhā veeā vodāā inward frustration cracks in his throat.Ā ākkh !Ā itāsā vak. virak, noāĀ ri-vak. rivak. rivak, that one. ā¦name is rivak.ā
Ā Ā For a moment, sheās attempted to tell him to nevermind itĀ ā his nameās really not so vital a thing that he should die attempting to summon it from his throat. But he does, shakily, stutteringly, echo out, four times, Rivak.Ā
Ā Ā She tests it against her fingers. āRivak.ā Unthinkingly, after spelling it, she gives him a sign name. It escapes her in the moment the weight of that decision ā the belief, apparent, that she will have cause to use it. She smiles, signs her sign name for him again, and drops it.Ā
Ā Ā He looks, by all accounts, terrifiedĀ by her ā she almost laughs again. How smartĀ this man is, to be so burdened with terror at her presence. He was wiser than any man sheād known, and she likedĀ it about him.Ā
Ā Ā āCome back to town with me, Rivak.ā She stands, suddenly, joining him, eyes still full of mirth and warmth. āI have a potions shop. Iāll give you some elixirs thatāll help you get out of unlucky binds, in the future.āĀ Ā
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AnaĆÆs Nin, Fire: From āA Journal of Loveā: The Unexpurgated Diary of AnaĆÆs Nin, 1934ā1937
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royalcaretakerā:Ā
Her answer came, but it didnāt really make things better. It started to sound like she was just kept here, forced to live in an uncomfortable place and without even getting much food or probably anything else, like a prisoner or something along these lines. āOkay,ā he replied to her words - he was certainly going to keep in mind to avoid being caught.
As for the cold, thoughā¦ āI can give warmth.ā After finishing signing this, he held out one of his still softly glowing hands, changing the type of energy to also be emitting heat. He was going to add a warning that getting too close might be too hot, but, he wasnāt using that much energy so it probably wasnāt that warm; and of course, to add that warning he would have needed to take his hand back already.
Ā Ā What? He could... make warmth?Ā
Ā Ā He could make light, so ā perhaps that shouldnāt come as much of a surprise. But still, it was a bit like magic, to feel heat radiating from hands outstretched. She reached out, put her hand above it. It felt... good. The numbness in the tips of her fingers burned, in response to the ebb of energy, but she didnāt pull away. Not until a question came to her mind.Ā
Ā Ā āYou donāt need to be warm to make this heat? If not from you, where does the heat come from?āĀ
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