Entries tagged with plot:baser instincts

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(no subject)

[May 25, 2012]

Klaus and Caroline end up walking home together after Lady Grantham's party. Romulan Ale is had, art is talked about, fights are had, and they made up.

[Here|Rated PG-13 (Making Out)]

[May 26, 2012]

Previous things from the night before get resolved in a much more sober manner.

[Here|Rated Explicit/Adult]

[June 14, 2012]

Caroline's buzzed off the station, and when she finds Mycroft Holmes walking down the hall, she just can't help herself.

[Here|Rated PG-13, Violence]

[June 17, 2012]

When Caroline is still buzzed and gets out of quarantine, Klaus can stop looking for her. Reunions are had, and, unfortunately, some things can't be unsaid.

[Here| Rated Explicit/Adult]

[June 21, 2012]

Caroline realises she still really wants to eat people, and asks Klaus for his help. Seeing as how she sort of dumped him 4 days prior, it goes as well as expected, and the two come to a compromise of sorts.

[Here|Rated PG-13]

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Linkdump - Mycroft/Dakin

[June 13th, 2012]

The ship has started to affect Dakin and Mycroft. In which Dakin demands attention, and Mycroft replies harsly, unbound by any need to put up an act.

[Here|R for insinuation| Completed]

[June 16th, 2012]

With the effects of Baser Instinct at a full, and having unsuccessfully attempted to restrain his brother from becoming a pirate and converting the ship's passengers, Mycroft comes to Dakin's room in the night. He's in search of some calm. He's in search of control.

[Here|NC-17 for that sort of nasty thing| On-going]

[June 19th, 2012]

When the ship's inhabitants are mostly back to normal, the two meet again. Dakin is happy and Mycroft appalled. It's a choice between re-writing history or ignoring it all-together.

[Here|R for talk of nasty things past| Completed]

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GATHERING POST: ON-BOARD / DOCKING

After a night spent sleeping out in the Cambodian jungle, nursing their wounds and their bruised egos over not being able to get the crown, the adventurers are without warning transported back to the Proserpina - but not the Proserpina they know. The furniture looks like it's been thrown around, and one of the outer walls of the Porta Ianulis bears an inscription in capital letters, and something that smells and looks like mustard: ADVENTURE GALLEY. There are bottles, glasses and plates littering the floor, and infinity signs scribbled here and there, on any surfaces, indiscriminately.

It's anyone's best guess exactly what went on while they were away, but that's apparently not the station's concern. The moment that they are all on board, the lights pulse red, the screens the same - and a giant buzzer sounds for five seconds, echoing throughout the ship. Then-- normal. Everything goes back to normal, the lights, the screens, and the buzzer has stopped like it never happened.

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(no subject)

Buffy wakes up - well, feeling a little less than her best. Then again, given that she's been running at sub-par level since she's been here, a small cold isn't something she would give a second thought to - except for the fact that the last time she was suffering from a fever, she wound up in the hospital fighting a creature only invisible to the sick and sneezing. As if hospitals weren't bad enough, right? In the end, she tries to shake it off. She's got good genes, to put it lightly, and any cold that manages to get into her system is only going to get thoroughly thrashed by Slayer DNA.

Her tried-and-true method of coping is shopping - or, in this case, browsing - in the wardrobe room. Her arms are full of new pieces and accessories by the time she makes it back to her room, at which point she spends a thorough amount of time pairing things together to see what works. In the end, she goes with something slightly more bold than anything she's worn before, pairing a black lace top with a pair of red leather pants. It's an outfit that doubles for a Friday night date or a Friday night slay, and she feels a little like Faith in it, but she can't find a single thing wrong with it as she eyes her own expression in the mirror.

The boys are all probably still fighting over who has control of what on the station, two seconds away from just pulling it out and measuring it. She fights back a giggle at the image and makes her way out towards the main concourse of the station to investigate. If nothing else, she'll have a good source of amusement for the next several hours while she tries to ignore the feeling of something crawling under her skin, making her feel flushed. Maybe she should make some popcorn. Or chicken soup.

[Come find Buffy anywhere on the station, really, as she'll be randomly exploring. Feel free to note the changes in clothing and demeanor - she'll be a lot less filtery with her responses and emotions. ST/LT; open until the end of plot.]

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(no subject)

Nothing was right. Nothing made sense. God had set them both on this path, Jim and her, and no one cared. Well. Spock cared, and he made a good ally, but what was the point when everybody around them were acting like children, when it was impossible to teach them anything? It should not be that difficult to show them God's path.

Zoe's stiletto heels clicked with each step she took through the Proserpina hallway, heading for Jim's room. There was more to do, there had to be more to do, and for now she walked with the determination of one with a higher purpose.

Until she saw someone around the curve of the hallway and stopped, her hands coming to her hips as she surveyed them.

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[TRIGGER WARNINGS: May contain discussion of non-con and violence] In his cups

He was surely dead.

The shard sank into his side with such ease and such purpose. How could he survive it? How could anyone? The suddenness startled him more than the pain, at first. So swift. She was just so bloody swift, and she’d left him bloody.

But the final thing that filtered through his mind was a peculiar sort of satisfaction.

Perhaps Sansa wasn’t such a helpless little dove after all. That made her dangerous.

And infinitely more interesting.

He dreamed of endless wastes, a desert wide and vast. Unfathomably vast. He walked across sands burning from sun, beneath a pink, cloudless sky, the heat consuming him from the inside out. Yet, he felt compelled to walk. But no matter how far he walked, how many steps he took on his stunted legs, he never seemed to move. The sands were the same, the dunes in the distance never grew larger, and the sun never shifted from its place directly above his head.

( Awake. )

[[TRIGGER WARNING: may contain discussion of violence and non-con]]

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(no subject)

It was Thursday. He thought it was Thursday, anyway. It had become hard to keep track, and even harder to care. What was the point of regimenting his time, when there was no reward in it? Yesterday's attempt at taking over the running of the ship had failed not because Jim lacked conviction, nor even because he was wrong about his destiny, but because no one else around them gave a damn who was running things, or if there was even someone running them at all.

At this point, Spock was not even certain he gave a damn. He had other things on his mind-- namely the overwhelming surges of emotion he had been feeling for the past few days. What had started out as relief over recovering from being sick had flowed naturally into the excitement of a new adventure, then anger that anyone would impugn Jim's skill as a captain, then shifting through so many highs and lows that he was dizzy with them. It was not even so much the feelings, but the expressing of them that had him so exhilarated. It made him giddy, like being drunk but stronger, purer, and he wondered why he had ever bothered to control it before.

The principles of Surak were important to some Vulcans, and they found it not only easy but comforting to live by them. But Spock was not fully Vulcan, and now he could not remember why he had ever tried to pretend he was.

Though he had kept close to Jim especially after the altercation with Sherlock, when Jim had gone to find Zoe (to ask her more questions about her God, he thought) Spock had gone for a walk. He was so absorbed in contemplating his inner landscape that he didn't notice someone standing in his path until he had nearly walked over them.

[tag Spock and his feelings anywhere on the station.]

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And, lo-- [Trigger Warning: May contain mentions of Non-Con.]

It feels like she's been locked in that tiny room - she'd know how far it was from wall to wall, except she'd spent the first half hour digging the glass from her foot, and trying to get it from her back. Still, it seemed so much smaller than it had the first time. The walls were confining, and even with the way she'd woken, groggy and confused, she quickly wished she could escape.

( She didn't know how long she would be in quarantine... )

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(no subject)

[June 14, 4AM]
[Here| HARD R - TRIGGER WARNINGS: Threatened Non-Con, Violence Related to NC]

Under the continued effects of inhibition-lowering gas, Tyrion Lannister gets tired of not taking his rights with his wife. Sansa is less than amused, and his blood is shed before the station intervenes.

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And most wickedly I did as I sailed... [ongoing]

[Wednesday evening, 6.13.]

Sherlock's id takes the wheel. Lock up your children and doubloons.

[Here|rated ARRR!]

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Baser Instincts Day One: Gathering

Jim is not sulking.

He is a man of twenty-five distinguished years, a Captain of a starship and a decorated officer of Starfleet. He does not sulk, and if his mouth is turned in a petulant frown over the high neck of his sweater, it's only because it, like every other part of his mouth, aches with fever.

It's certainly not because after arriving at the Porta Ianualis Jim didn't beam down as so much as barf on the transporter pad. And it's certainly not because being stuck up here while everyone else seeks adventure below makes him feel fussy.

Scowling, Jim turns away from the transport and heads out into the station proper, gratified, at least, that he's not the only one stuck aboard. It's not like him to be selfish, but he takes a certain pleasure that Spock is stuck topside as well. Though the Vulcan is every bit as ill as Jim, at least up here he can't go down without his BFF, a title promised to Jim by destiny and also some seriously complicated time-travel.

"Ha," Jim murmurs, following it up with a surprised cough. What the hell is wrong with him? Spock is itching to beam down as badly as he is, and Jim's regarding their mutual illness as a good thing? He shakes his head, but the little knot of satisfaction doesn't go away. In fact, it only grows, and Jim finds himself smirking at the station floor. "Misery really does love company."

[ooc: please see this post for details (second section). Gathering post for day 1 of the station plot, tag in and tag each other anywhere in the station and experience the first effects of the plot! Jim will have his own top level for threads]