After his shift at Wellspring, Worf headed to the Junkyard and waited outside the entrance for Momoko. He wasn't exactly how he had ended up agreeing to show the girl his shuttle and how it works but he had agreed to it and it was only honorable to live up to it.
He sighed a little in impatience as he waited for Momoko to show occasionally checking the time.
[OOC: Hey, in Worf's universe they claim that Hamlet is originally from Klingon. If that's the case then I'm saying Taylor Swift songs are too. Lyrics and music are in a completely different language and tone than the actual song so unless you speak Klingon it's probably not recognizable. Door closed, post open. Neighbors can feel free to complain about the noise.]
When the computer alerted Worf of an incoming communication, he let out a weary sigh.
No doubt Commander Riker had once again caught wind of Worf's little "Tea Party" and was contacting to have a little laugh at Worf's expense.
He made his way down to his shuttle where he initiated the communication link. "Commander," he said stiffly as Riker's image appeared on screen. "Good to hear from you again.
Worf returned to his room after performing some maintenance on his shuttle only to find that his side of the room, particularly some of the shiny computer equipment, had been tossed about over his desk and on the floor.
Frowning, he knelt down on the floor to pick up the mess when he heard a noise. A scurrying type of noise.
"Who goes there?" he growled as he picked up particularly shiny data padd from the floor.
Unfortunately for Worf that particularly shiny pad was too much for the two gremlins which were ransacking his side of the room. They jumped out from the bed and bit down hard on the Klingon, spreading their toxic venom into his body.
Once their victim was indisposed, the gremlins grabbed the oh-so-shiny toy and escaped through the air vents leaving behind a Klingon who will no doubt refuse to remember the next few hours after the venom wears off.
Worf terminated the connection and leaned back in his chair, frowning. Not exactly the news he wanted to hear but not that surprising either.
Pushing aside the transporter maintenance plans, Worf brought up his terminal and began scanning the news back home for any additional information Riker might have overlooked.
Worf had spent a good portion of yesterday cross channeling the replicators with the transporters in an effort to produce... well something larger than a cup of coffee or a new pair of clothes.
Instead he was able to create pre-fabricated walls that he then used the transporter to beam over to the campground where they lay, neatly stacked.
Some might consider the whole pre-fabrication bit cheating, but Worf merely considered it a shortcut in manual labor.
After clearing the debris from the frame and fixing up the floors, Worf picked up one of the pre-fabricated walls and began dragging them over to brace and then hammer it into the frame.
[Open for the observers or if the other rule breaker wishes to join in on the work.]
If anyone happened to be walking by a certain wing of the Taft Cabin, they would probably notice a good deal of shouting, groaning, screaming and sounds that sounded a lot a combination of a fist fight, demolition and... *ahem* two people having a good time.
However if they were walking by at a particular moment, they probably would have heard a very loud and somewhat emphatic agreement between two different people as they apparently smashed into an important structual element of that cabin wing.
As the roof came down around them... (and then the walls), Worf fell to the ground looking exhausted and drained.
Tossing off a piece of wood that had fallen across his chest, he soon realized that this was going to be a bit more difficult to fix than a broken bed.
[Wing of Cabin destroyed with permission. For the *ahem* partner in demolition.]
Worf stood in the Great Hall as Duras finished his summation of the so-called "evidence," his face not showing any reaction as Duras demanded that he be condemned as a traitor to the empire.
He took a step forward as K'mpec stood and looked down him.
Worf and Picard beamed down to the Great Hall. Side by side they marched into the main chamber with a look of determination that was lacking the first time they had entered.
Worf glared at the people in his way, making them move quickly to avoid confrontation. When he reached the council he scowled at the members.
"My challenge will proceed," he declared shooting a special glare at K'mpec. "No threat, no treachery will stop it."
Worf stood in front of the table holding his brother's body. Kurn's eyes held a vacant stare and a good deal of blood covered his Klingon uniform. Worf bowed his head and shook his head. "I'm sorry, my brother," he said quietly.
K'mpec had called the council into recess, ending a scowling match between Worf and Duras. He then approached Worf motioning him to follow so they could speak alone. Conferring briefly with Kurn, Worf sent his brother to look into the evidence that the Enterprise had received and went to join the head of the Klingon council in one of the antechambers.
Worf stood in the ante room adjacent to the Great Hall where the the council session was being held. It had been years since he had come to Q'onos only to be rejected by his cousins and forced to flee to the mountains.
Now he was here fighting for the honor of his Father with a brother he barely knew and a Starfleet crew that were almost complete strangers and yet were willing to stand by him while he faced almost certain execution.
Worf stood in Ten-Forward, watching through the windows at the stars streaming around the ship as they traveled at warp speed to a planet he considered home... and yet not. He was at first shocked when Picard denied him leave to go to Q'onos to defend the accusations only to find that the Captain intended to be at his side during the trial.
As the ship traveled close, thoughts of his father, the trial and the possible conspiracies troubled him. After all this time... why now?
[TBC. NFI & NFB as it is in spaaaaaaaace. From here and continued here. Preplayed with myself which so does not sound dirty. OOC of course is looooove.
The trip to the Enterprise had been uneventful. As soon as Worf was immediately put to work on the security team and placed on bridge duty, which was something he had not expected. Also not expected was that he was given the rank of "Acting" Lieutenant while on board the Enterprise.
"There is no such thing," Worf protested. "I am not even a cadet at Starfleet."
"Don't worry, Worf," Commander Riker had said giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. "I think you know more about the ship's security as a cadet than most full-blown officers."
Worf rather doubted that however he spent most of his off duty hours catching up on updates to Starfleet procedure as well as the ship's log to familiarize himself with the last few missions.
It wasn't long before the Klingon named Kurn assumed his position with the crew. Worf had hoped to be able to help the commander adjust to life among the crew and humans in general but that was not apparently in the cards.
Within minutes of arriving on the Enterprise, Kurn had everyone ill at ease. He was demanding, inflexible and ruthless to everyone.
[NFB due to being in Spaaaaaaace. Dialog mostly taken from the TNG episode "Sins of the Father" with some tweaks here and there. OOC is looooooove. Plot continues here.]
It had been your typical day for Worf. There were people to scowl at. Irritating actions that caused him to be gruffer than normal. And the usual English idioms and phrases that always caused confusion
Now he was back in his room/alcove where he was going over some of the required reading for Starfleet Academy. It was quiet and peaceful. Just the way he liked things.
Worf wasn't sure exactly how Claudia convinced to do a "facial"last night. He only know he did it.
The avocado facial felt... strange. And after a half an hour he was grateful to take it off and even more grateful he didn't have to eat it.
Unfortunately there is a slight difference between the skin of a Klingon and that of a human, which is why when Worf woke up this morning he found a very large gorch on his face.
In typical Klingon/Worf fashion, he sighed with irritation and got ready to go out on his morning run.
Worf was back in his room and not on a boat. Specifically he was in his room where he was not being exiled on a nightly basis so his ship's "roommate" could fornicate to his heart content.
Needless to say he was happy to be back.
He then proceeded to sit down and catch up the podcasts of the previous week's radio to catch up on the island and cruise's events.
Finally getting to last night's broadcast, Worf almost smiled when he heard the comment about taking out zombies.
However after hearing one particular story, Worf grunted, punched off his computer and stomped off to the gym to beat the crap out of something.
Worf had come down to his shuttle to do his weekly maintenance, only to find all the consoles covered with flatbread.
"Computer. Please perform level three diagnostics on the replicator," Worf said with a huffy tone.
Only the computer did not respond.
"Computer. Please perform diagnostic."
And again... nothing.
"Computer. Please respond."
Greeted only with silence, Worf began to check over his systems to find that while the computer was still working fine the vocal component of his shuttle had mysteriously ceased to function. Various levels of diagnostic programs were applied to no avail.
Frowning slightly, Worf forwarded a message to the Enterprise requesting assistance from engineering when someone was available and went back to getting rid of all the flatbread.
[Alas there is no longer a voice for Worf's shuttle in honor of Majel Barrett Roddenberry. Woe. Establishy.]
The small baby ewok sat on the bed looking up at the giant person with the bumpy forehead. The ewok stared intently at the big man as droned on about the meaning of honor and something about house named Mogh.
How silly!
"Yub! Yub!"
"There will be time for questions later," the bumpy head fellow grumbled. "First we will go over our routine. We will wake up at 0500 and go for a brief jog and possibly a workout at the gym. Then at 0800 we will have breakfast and at 0830 we will perform maintenance on my shuttle. At 1030 hours we will have a light snack followed by lunch at 1200. Followed by a small two hour nap for you as I study. At 1400 you will awake and then have a light snack with dinner being server at 1800 hours. By 2000 hours you will be washed and ready for bed. Do you understand the schedule as I read it to you?"
"Yub! Yub!" the baby ewok replied with a small bounce. This bumpy head fellow was funny. Ooo! Look! Something with buttons!
"No! Do not touch that!"
Buttons! Yay! "Yub! Nub!"
"This is not acceptable. Desist with the touching of that data padd!"
"Yub Nub! YUB NUB!"
"Fine. Play with it. Do not come crawling to me if it doesn't work any more."
The bumpy headed fellow went to the desk and seemed to sulk. The ewok paid no mind as BUTTONS were pushed and funny noises were made. Best toy EVER!
Worf stood apart from the festivities and kept watch over... well pretty much everyone. With no method of communication from this island to his homeworld there was no way possible for any of his family to know where he was or why he was here.
So instead of dwelling, he was keeping watch his wool knit cap pulled down over his head ridges so as not to be obvious.
Not that it mattered to most people here. Because no one was coming to look for him. At all. Really.
Like most people this weekend Worf will be getting visitors. Unlike most of those visitors this one can be a bit of a problem as he goes by the name "Q".
For those of you not familiar with the entity known as "Q", I'll point you over to this dandy article here
For those of you who aren't going to read the article I'll sum it up rather simply:
Q is an immortal, godlike being who has control over space, matter and time. He's also a complete bastard and was described by Picard as being "devious and amoral and unreliable and iresponsible and definitely not to be trusted."
Which is precisely why he's so much fun!
Anyhow, since an omnipotent character will be running around the island all weekend I thought it might be prudent to give everyone a heads up. If you wish to interact with Q, keep in mind he's not a nice guy and can bend time and space just to make your character miserable in fun and cracky ways.
So if you that sounds like your kind of thing, feel free to ping me here or via e-mail if you have any ideas for character interaction/humiliation/torture.
Worf was quite happy to be his normal skin tone again. Not that there was anything wrong with being pink. Or at least in most people's minds.
Worf was doing his best to drown out the memory of both that and the previous weekend by playing his favorite aria from Aktuh and Melota over and over and over again.
The fourth time it was played something in the ventilation shaft had had enough and raced out and bit Worf before he even realized what happened.
He swooned and fell to the floor.
"OMG!" he said in a rather high pitched nasally voice. "WTF? That was just unpleasant! I can't believe they let such creatures roam free here at the-"
And he remembered the poster he had seen earlier.
"OMG! I'm late for the slumber party! And I have nothing to wear!"
So Worf rushed out of the room in a dainty manner desperate to find some decent sleep apparel and get to the slumber party as fast as he could.
After getting off the phone with the somewhat helpful pirate, Worf cranked up the volume on his radio which was now playing the love theme from Aktuh and Maylota.
There are many people in the universe who consider Klingon Opera a wonderful form of music.
In all probability Worf was probably the only one in the dorm who would agree with that statement.
Worf had returned to the forest which is presumably still there despite all the action that took place there this weekend. If he was a sensible person, he probably would have stayed in the dorms where he knew he was safe and sat in front of a television watching wrestling for the entire weekend.
However Worf is not a sensible person.
He returned to the woods but this time he was prepared. He had his type one phaser with him, his bat'leth strapped to his back and tricorder in hand.
Worf awoke early and headed to the preserve to try and recover from his misstep from yesterday. Upon reflection he believed that he was merely letting his paranoid nature get the better of him. If something was following him, he would have no doubt had noticed it much earlier.
Pushing thoughts of yesterday aside, he began his day trying to locate the tracks of the teal deer he was stalking yesterday. Finding the tracks and scent of his prey he began to follow them into the forest, noting the regular places the deer had stopped to eat and drink.
And then there was nothing.
It was as if the entire animal had completely disappeared.
Worf expanded his search, going out in circles from where the deer's tracks had stopped, looking for any sign where it might have gone. Thirty minutes later he found it.
The animal's remains were on display, its flesh removed and its skeleton hung from a tree as if it was a trophy.
No animal had done this. He was sure of that. He was also sure that his feelings of being followed yesterday were not unfounded.
Someone or something was stalking him.
"Show yourself!" he ordered to the woods around him. "Quit playing these games! If you are a true warrior you will not hide from me!"
There was nothing in response.
Worf growled in frustration and spent the rest of the day searching the woods for further signs of what was tracking him. Every once in a while he would stop and listen...
Worf had recently taken up a new exercise of hunting and stalking in the Preserve, doing his best to track down prey without alerting him. It had become a game for Worf, tracking down the same animal every day and trying to get close enough to touch it. So far the results had been admirable he had twice been able to come with in striking distance of a teal deer without it even noticing his presence.
Today however the forest seemed... different. The normal sounds of wildlife were oddly muted.
And there was the uncanny feeling that somehow he was being watched. Every so often Worf would think he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A sense of movement or a shimmer of light. However whenever he turned to face it, nothing was there.
The third time he got this feeling he abandoned his stalking methods and stood straight up.
"If there is someone here, face me now!" he declared. "I will not put up with this."
There was no reaction other than a few wildlife creatures scurrying away.
Worf scowled and turned back to the dorms, cursing himself for letting paranoia getting the better of him.
Worf had become accustomed to strange events occurring in Fandom. So when he heard that there were robots having a convention, he did not find it shocking. He did however make an effort to come to town to see exactly what types of robots had shown up to see where their technology may have come from.
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