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James T. Kirk looking longingly into the eyes of Tim Allen, as Jason Nesmith from Galaxy Quest. "Undo my girdle, Jason", he said. "Aeuh!", said Tim. James T. Kirk put his finger over Tim's lips. "No no, not yet." (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Jul 15, 2020 14:56
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grassy gnoll posted:Is Kirk/Picard sufficient crossover, or do I need to go outside the franchise? Got to go outside the franchise. Let your imagination soar!
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Jul 15, 2020 16:08
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 Starship Enterprise, somewhere in the vicinity of the Horsehead Nebula… A great crashing sound filled the crew’s ears as the starship bucked and heaved under their feet, tossing a hapless ensign or two to the deck. Captain Kirk’s eyes were wide with astonishment – and, yes, a little fear – as he called out. “Report!” “The other ship has collided with us, Captain.” Spock’s voice, steady as ever, soothed the jangled nerves of the bridge crew. “Their fore section appears to have lodged itself in our shuttlebay, and the blade extending from their prow has penetrated multiple bulkheads into our cargo holds, but overall structural integrity is holding… for now.” Chekov spoke out. “I thought for sure we’d had it.” “Indeed. Sensors indicate they applied retro-thrust moments before impact. It seems destruction was not their objective.” A groaning sound reverberated throughout the bridge, punctuated by a flashing light on the helm. “Captain!” Sulu’s eyes were locked on his console. “That blade… it’s retracting into their hull!” “I’m reading an aperture in their prow… possibly a hatch. We may be at risk of being boarded.” Captain Kirk slammed his fist down on the intercom. “Security teams, to the shuttlebay. Prepare to repel boarders.” Another groaning noise. “The blade’s extending again, Captain.” “What is their game? Maybe we can take advantage of this… indecision. Scotty, can we break away?” “It’s no use, Captain. The impulse engines are a hopeless mess, and they’ve knocked the warp engines out of alignment!” “drat!” “Captain,” Spock said, “I may have an idea.”  Meanwhile, aboard the bridge of the space pirate battleship Arcadia... “Reverse engines! Break us free of the Earth Federation starship.” “The engines won’t answer, Captain! The computer is negating our commands!” Captain Harlock strode to the great helm at the center of the bridge, and took hold… to his astonishment, it resisted him! He pulled harder, but the wheel would not budge; meanwhile, the ship keened as its mighty blade ram retracted and extended again. My friend… why are you doing this?? An alarm sounded on the bridge: intruder alert! “Captain! We have intruders in the main computer room!” Daiba looked in astonishment. “Impossible! They haven’t launched any fighters or boarding craft.” Captain Harlock’s face cleared, his usually extraordinary perception having delivered the answer to him again. “They must have a matter-teleportation device on their ship.” “Then they must be the reason Arcadia won’t answer the helm; they’ve taken over the main computer!" Unlikely… and yet… Captain Harlock turned to run towards the exit. “Keep trying to break us free!” Daiba followed him out the door.  Arcadia’s main computer room Spock’s hands splayed out across the great bulk of the Arcadia’s main computer core. Kirk’s face was contorted with worry as he watched Spock become more and more flushed, his breathing heavier; the broken cadence which mind-meld usually brought was even more disjointed and confused than normal. “so long… such… elegant lines… yes…” The door to the computer chamber slid open as Captain Harlock, Daiba, and a handful of other Arcadia crewmen poured in. “You!” shouted Daiba, “This is your fault!” “We’re unarmed!” said Kirk, his hands out. Daiba moved to aim his Cosmo Dragoon at Spock, but Harlock’s arm came down on his gun. “Daiba! You would shoot unarmed men, and hurt… damage our main computer?” Kirk exhaled. Another close call. Harlock stepped forward. “What are you doing here, Captain Kirk?” “Captain Harlock. As a Starfleet officer, it is my duty to… request your surrender.” “Your request is denied.” A smile. “Fair enough. Captain… my first officer, Mr. Spock, is in contact with your ship’s main computer. It seems that his… needs have not been met for some time.” Daiba’s eyes narrowed. “What does your officer’s needs have to do with this intrusion on our ship?” “Daiba,” Harlock’s eyes widened slightly, “take the others and return to your posts. Stand down until you hear from me.” “Captain!” “Do as I say.” Daiba hesitated for a moment, for two moments, and then led the others back into the corridor, the door clanging shut behind them. Kirk gestured towards the door. “They don’t know about the computer, do they? About him.” “No. Only I and one other know the true nature of this ship.” Spock walked up beside Kirk. At the edge of human perception were the signs of exhaustion. Kirk noticed. “Spock… are you alright?” Spock nodded. “Yes, Captain. The experience was… draining. It is as I suspected. Captain Harlock… I believe your friend will release control of the ship shortly. His… needs have been met.” “I’m relieved to hear it.” The tension lifting from Harlock’s face and shoulders was almost as tangible as steam. “We have an important appointment to make with the Mazone base up ahead.” “Hold on a minute. We’ve got our own itinerary to make – and technically, you’re still a wanted fugitive, Harlock, but I’m willing to set that aside for the moment – but your ship has left my ship in total disarray. My shuttlebay is wrecked, and my chief engineer will be swearing at our impulse drive for weeks, not to mention the shambles that blade of yours left our cargo decks.” “I can call up our mobile base Deathshadow. Your engineer should be able to easily adapt the automatic repair facilities to your specifications, and your crew can enjoy shore leave on the artificial beach. And perhaps our crews will learn something from one another.” “That’s all well and good. But what are we going to do until then?” Harlock thought about this for a moment. “Tell me, Captain Kirk… do you enjoy fencing?” Spock’s eyebrow rose. (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST) Farmer Crack-Ass fucked around with this message at 06:06 on Jul 17, 2020 |
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Jul 17, 2020 06:02
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He'd seen such a man before, that is to say, a similar-looking man. Of course, they were all made eerily alike, humans. Terrans. Blank skin, no easy configurations of spots or ridges, feathers or scales, by which to discern identity. Still, the hue of this one, the color of his hair (and human hair could be so variable!), the warmth of his skin: more than sun-kissed. Sun-baked. The work of Cardassia's noon-sun, perhaps. He was slim, all long lines, and smiling. Yes, very similar... yet, not the same man. The smile gave it all away. This smile was... reptilian, which was to say, very appealing. "Are you Mr. Gul Dukat?" he asked. Dukat answered with his own grin, one he fancied quite charming, though never lacking an edge. "'Gul' will do. The Cardassian language does not have such... quaintly gendered titles." "Ah," the man said, with a slight bow. Polite. Perhaps mildly obsequious. "Well, you will have to excuse me, mine does. My name is Mr. Morden." "Well, then, Mister Morden, how can I help you, precisely?" Dukat glanced over the figure. No uniform. No charming little 'pips' about the collar. Just... perfunctorily clad. He could appreciate the utility. Mr. Morden's eager expression only broadened. "Oh, I wouldn't want to seem as though I were here to trouble you? Asking favors--how rude! No," he replied. "I'm here to make you an offer, actually." Dukat straightened his back, pulling himself uniquely erect, the muscles of his neck gone taut. There were rumors about humans. (And he knew a thing or two about rumors like that.) "Oh?" There was a glint in his eye, that of this "Morden". It was strange to see; so much else seemed to be in... shadow. Unnatural shadow. Nothing to fear, of course: low light was preferred to Cardassian eyes. And what a sight for keen blue eyes.... "I'm here to ask you a question. Just one little question," Morden said smoothly, leaning in. "What do you want?" Humans! He loved this about humans. (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST) Pick fucked around with this message at 06:46 on Jul 17, 2020 |
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Jul 17, 2020 06:35
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"Your scar... doesnt look half bad" said Draco to Zuko (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Jul 18, 2020 01:44
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Is saying that William Shatner can go gently caress himself technically a slashfic
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Jul 29, 2020 06:56
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Cease to Hope posted:Is saying that William Shatner can go gently caress himself technically a slashfic Maybe if William Shatner fucks Captain Kirk.
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Jul 29, 2020 06:59
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Roth posted:Maybe if William Shatner fucks Captain Kirk. okay. William Shatner (as himself) from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air can go gently caress William Shatner (as himself) from Space Ghost Coast to Coast
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Jul 29, 2020 07:29
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I don't have the time to actually finish my submission so here is an outline. For whatever unfathomable reason I was a little disappointed when I found that there were no crossover fan fics combining House with Sector General. As you can tell, my failure to actually write this story is a great loss to the artform. House X Gurronsevas (checked spelling) Ch. 1 Boilerplate Sector General introduction The Chief Psychologist is about to have a VIP problem with defrosted House New technique to resuscitate people from the past, frozen for good reason, need treatment here (actually just a tape) (it is some V psychic tape writing thing) (No relation to the VTXM who taught a Brontosaur equivalent's secondary brain telekinetic flight, don't be a fool) Anthropologists dying to find out about Doctor-Doctor interaction Ch. 2 (Don't donate your body to science, kids) (Monitor dropout, Rico joke?) House and about (what member of second contact team pulls this duty?) (Cha Thrat, for the Mary Sue controversy?) Hello Nurse (Pathologist Murchison) Conway's revenge (No Kelgians Allowed) Ch. 3 Danalta switcheroo (Look like Murchison from the waist up. (Conway closes eyes) Murchison with clothes on) House vs. Gurronsevas cook off The Ultimate Cooking Challenge (Not: making hospital food not just Edible but Enjoyable) Iron Chef jokes (This is an Oxy floor, you want the x floor etc.) Synthesized "down to the exact molecule" Archaic earth slang (genitals) Ch.4 XXX (Ch. 5) Monitor disaster Put me in coach My home species needs me Military discipline returns put on a bus (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Jul 29, 2020 10:12
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Mood, Ch. 3 Posted by statesman20 Captain's log, stardate 47446.9. While en route to the Caldos colony, our travel has been interrupted by a novel spatio-temporal distortion. The rift has closed, leaving us with ample new data, as well as a curious new passenger... Picard reclined in his quarters, attempting to relax with his customary robe and tea. He leafed through the pages of his antique Shakespeare folio, unsatisfied. Ordinarily the old tome, bound in flaking brown leather, brought him solace. Tonight, though, something troubled him, but what he could not say. The door chimed. 2355, read the chronometer. "Come." Whatever it was, it would be a welcome change from his current funk. Or so he thought, until the door slid open to reveal what was waiting on the other side. Something in the man's comportment made Picard freeze, mid-page. He was not an man easily intimidated, to be sure. Something compelled him now. "Mr. Halleck. Come in." Halleck entered, ramrod straight, high ornate collar clasped firmly around his neck. His eyes scanned the room, looking for threats - Picard noticed the man's left hand twitch, down near his belt. Commander Riker had described their dimensional refugee as an ugly lump of a man, but something about his craggy face and rough balladier's voice intrigued the captain. "Captain," Halleck said, inclining his head. His heavy boots thumped into the plush carpet of the cabin. Picard was suddenly conscious of the short hem of his robe. "Please, have a seat." The corners of the grizzled man's mouth tightened, almost imperceptibly. "I prefer to stand." I have offended him, Picard thought. But- why does that trouble me so? "As you prefer. You are a guest of the Federation," the captain said, meaning, a guest of mine. Halleck clasped one hand around his opposing wrist, standing fully at attention. "At home, we customarily pay a duty in the case of a life debt. Here, you are the leader." The corners of Picard's own mouth twitched, upward. "Mr. Halleck, from what you've told us, your society is far more hierarchical than our own. I think you'll find one's position matters far less here than to what you're accustomed." Halleck's worn eyes narrowed. He knows, Picard thought, moments before he realized the full florid implications for himself. He cleared his throat, attempting to deflect, to contain his emotions - "Would you care to join me for a meal? It would be no trouble to replicate a fine steak, best quality beef-" he said, fighting a swelling throat. "Captain Picard," the fighting man rasped. Picard's face began to pinken. "...a-h-h-h, excuse me, Mr. Halleck-" "Gurney." "Pardon?" "Gurney. My given name," Halleck said. Starting, Picard snapped shut the book in his hand. "...Gurney-" "Captain, please accept my apology. I did not realize how late it was. I have committed an egregious error, and I will trouble you no more this evening." Halleck spun sharply on his heel and marched to the door. Picard sprung off his sofa, stretching out one hand. "Do come again-" he managed, before the door slid firmly shut. He pressed one manicured finger to his lips, pursing them against the digit. "Hmm. Computer." "Ready." "Prepare an invitation for Mr. Halleck to the captain's table tomorrow at 1200 hours. And reserve Holodeck Four. Prepare program Picard-Mountaineering-12." "Affirmative." Yes, Picard thought, hopefully he would be seeing more of Mr. Halleck before long. (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Jul 30, 2020 20:59
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incidentally my time as IK is drawing to a close, so if anyone has any requests for incomprehensible rules, now is the time
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Aug 9, 2020 21:11
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FunkyAl posted:incidentally my time as IK is drawing to a close, so if anyone has any requests for incomprehensible rules, now is the time Probate everyone with an avatar avatar for six hours with the mspaints from the avatarnish thread. Also I'm finalizing mine now, expect a double post. (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Aug 10, 2020 03:55
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I deny you your double post !
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Aug 10, 2020 04:04
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Theme Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysrg7joWrxk My ears perked almost before I heard it. "Tychus God drat Findlay!" Oooh how I wish I had a cigar. I ain't no angel, but there are some things you can't take back. Like giving up cigars on a dumb promise. "That smells nasty. What is that armor made out of, poo poo?" "Well if it ain't Marcus Fenix himself! Still prattlin' 'bout what people wear." I sauntered in to the bar like I owned the place. drat kids started smirking behind their poison. Ehh, to hell with it, I was in a good mood. I walked up to the jukebox and punched in some music Mama would like. Time to needle Marcus again. "Y'know I'll never get over how cute your guns are. Does it still not come in blue? Or bigger?" "No, and no. Even if it did, you'd just cut your own drat head off with the blades." I sat down in the musty bar, with Marcus takin' a seat next to me. He looked worried. "I could smell you from a mile away. Still no luck?" "Nah." I knocked on my breastplate. "That bastard Mengsk paid good money for this poo poo. I'm just glad it ain't killin' me no more." Funny how things happen. One minute I'm lootin' some trains with this kid, the next minute I'm gettin' lectured by the biggest asspull ever shat out this side of the sector. Add a sprinkle of bullshit, some good ol' fashioned backstabbing and some pro-toss fuckery and wham, poo poo's spittin' me out like one of them nydus worms on this god forsaken planet. Almost shat my bricks in my armor the first I hear it the planet's name, Sera. Confused it with Sarah. Funny how old names can still make you jump. poo poo was weirder than some ghost ops bullshit. Humans not comin' from earth, zerg but not zerg. Killin's in my blood, and Marcus and his boys were in trouble. We finally rolled over them grubs though, and now some of us are fidgetin'. Marcus slidin' me a glass woke me up from reminiscin'. "You look like you're gonna need this." "Hell, it's about drat time." Out of one bloody fight, into another. Opened up my drat eyes, though. I don't owe none to nothin', but still, seein' another one of them eggheads messin' with some boys pissed me enough to get out of my funk. I was finally free from some egghead's schemes, years sittin' on my freezin' rear end, galaxy spannin' bullshit and somethin' clicked. Maybe it's my regrets with Jimmy. I downed my drink. "That's what daddy likes." Marcus rolled his eyes at that as usual. I've been a bad, bad man. But Mama always said devil gets his due. I guess I got mine, an' his name is Marcus Fenix.
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Aug 10, 2020 05:15
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The Borg drone stood motionless, red laser-light flickering over its partner's silver exterior. The Cyberman stood equally motionless. Occasionally a whir came from inside its carapace, as it beheld its partner's pale flesh and dark machinery. They spoke within 0.04 seconds of each other. "WE REQUIRE GUID-" "IiiiiiiiDONOTunnnDER- They both stopped. Neither laughed. Neither understood laughter. Or shame. Or embarrassment. Or quite what they were meant to be doing. Marvin groaned. "This is a new depressing low, even for me. Just go, both of you, and tell the Cylon and the protocol droid to step inside. Unless it's one of the humanoid fleshy Cylons in which case just kill me now." (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Aug 12, 2020 00:23
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I'm waiting for an admin to hit the buttons, but the winner this month is Musluk
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Aug 12, 2020 22:38
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 My reign shall be... something, I guess!
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Aug 13, 2020 08:46
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Musluk posted:
Musluk posted:You didn't even probe me first, I demand a recount too!
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Aug 13, 2020 09:57
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Still waiting for the button hand-off ceremony. I also have a surprise for all the other entries, but I'mma run that by Roth real quick...
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Aug 13, 2020 10:18
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I grip the baton, the god-dipped leg of the previous king, tightly in my weary goblin knuckle. I have aged 777 years, I am a shaking withered phantom, held up only by my bleeding, wild eyes. When I let go I will turn into dust.
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Aug 14, 2020 02:40
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Welp, I guess I should do the needful. (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Aug 17, 2020 20:17
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Musluk... do ittttt  (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Aug 17, 2020 20:39
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kill me musluk (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Aug 17, 2020 20:56
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Leto and Padme were in the closet making babies and I saw one of the babies and the baby looked at me!
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Aug 17, 2020 22:34
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I liked my probe doodle.
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Aug 18, 2020 03:06
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Lux Animus posted:Leto and Padme were in the closet making babies and I saw one of the babies and the baby looked at me! the baby looked at you? uhura, get me admiral adama.
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Aug 18, 2020 04:59
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10/10 would halfass childhood aspirations again.
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Aug 18, 2020 07:57
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could i get a probe doodle pls (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Aug 18, 2020 16:14
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ChubbyChecker posted:could i get a probe doodle pls Probe doodles sound amazing. (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Aug 19, 2020 19:59
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Here is this month's IK contest: 1) Pick a sci fi thing 2) Get a picture of the sci fi thing 3) Make it into a cookie 4) Show us the cookie and show us the picture You have until September 21st to get your submission in.
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Aug 22, 2020 03:50
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Being goons I hope someone really stretches the definition of "cookie"
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Aug 22, 2020 17:24
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Take your standard Tollhouse cookie. While it's still warm, drape it over something hemispherical, so it's got a big central bump. A 1 tbsp measure is perfect. Next, get some maple butter. Ladle some up on the tip of a knife, and drizzle it in mostly-radial lines across the cookie. You want it to look like a bored stage hand was working the expanding foam gun. Ideally, you'd hit it with a brazing torch at this point, to darken the cookie crust and give you some tasty carmelized sugars, but it looks like mine bled out all its fuel, and hosed if I'm going to go out during a plague just for your entertainment. Use your imagination, science fiction fan.  This, but darker and crispier. This is still pretty tasty, though. Arrange your display on a sheet of baking parchment. Then, grab some lovely chocolate, like a Hershey bar. Ideally you want something with some structure you can grab on, but in a pinch you can melt some of your actual decent chocolate and use the tip of a spoon or a butter knife. Awful plastic chocolate will make it easier, though, since it's stickier - you're about to write the magic words to bring the whole project together.  After close association with humans, I find it curiously delicious.  Kiss it! Baby it! Flatter it, if you have to! One Horta, made to order. Serve over tapioca pearls, if you're a child-eating monster.
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Aug 24, 2020 18:05
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I'm not in the contest but I did make some cookies!
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Aug 30, 2020 02:35
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Ah gently caress I meant to do this one.
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Sep 2, 2020 02:43
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Some Goon posted:Ah gently caress I meant to do this one. You have twenty days to do it
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Sep 2, 2020 03:28
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Ah gently caress I'm bad at reading.
Fantastic Foreskin fucked around with this message at 03:44 on Sep 2, 2020 |
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Sep 2, 2020 03:34
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Keep! Making! Cookies!
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Sep 2, 2020 11:43
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 Lookat this fuckin poo poo
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Sep 5, 2020 17:26
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reignofevil posted:
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Sep 7, 2020 19:09
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We are the cookie collective. Your biological and cookielogical distinctiveness will be added to our own.  Dieting is futile.  Edit: Forgot to add a picture of the original thing. 
CainFortea fucked around with this message at 17:16 on Sep 10, 2020 |
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Sep 9, 2020 07:22
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