science_blues: (Default)
The city was beautiful, and her time on this planet, albeit somewhat inconsistently spent, had been both educational and pleasant, overall. Spock considered it as she sat back in the spartan chair she'd been allocated. The shuttle was small, compact, and logically organized. The other passengers were filing in for the trip to the singularity Starbase, 69, she believed.

It would not be long before dust off.

Spock withdrew a PADD and entered her daily report, filed it into her careful system of studies and notes, and cast the occasional glance out the port window at her elbow. It would be a considerable ride in the shuttle. She would doubtless lament the inability to breathe fresh air, but it was unavoidable.

A week was not a particularly long time.
science_blues: (Child_red)
Spock had watched the other children, following her examination. Despite multiple assurances, and a very elaborate explanation, she had not yet been entirely convinced that this was not an elaborate plot to kidnap and detain her. the other children left to the individual care of guardians and, on occasion, parents, Spock began to wonder.

She folded her hands in her lap and regarded the general motions of sickbay. The other children were gone and she was not a priority. The various nurses and doctors continued about their work and Spock watched them idly. She had not expected continuous conversation, nor had she desired it, but the lack of external stimulus forced her to rely entirely on internal contemplation.

Without an alternate topic, the only thing she could think to contemplate was the time. It was an irrelevant topic, as there was little she could do to influence it, or the actions she felt should have occurred, but it was the only topic she had. Spock watched the chronometer on the far wall, for lack of alternate stimulation.

Two hours seventeen minutes prior, presuming that the doctor had not been truthful with her, her mother was supposed to have landed the flitter outside of the academy and taken her to the doctor. One hour and five minutes ago, her sister would have arrived home. Ten minutes ago, they would have partaken of dinner.

It was the fourth day of the week. Barkaya marak and ameelah.

Spock was irrationally saddened by this thought. She took a slow breath and ignored the sensation. It would slide away.

(OOC - I'm going to be questionably available for the next two days. This is just to allow some interaction so I don't lag behind everyone when we conclude this. I do hope that was vague enough, about the examination conversation, M'Benga!mun.)
science_blues: (Default)
Spock did not fully support the native Kirk's position but she could find little logical reason to object to it. That she still desired to was...discomfiting.

The door to her temporary quarters parted and Spock entered first. She momentarily relished the absolute placement of everything. The chair in the corner, the desk and it's perfect alignment to the wall--there was a 2.4 degree convex bow to the shape of the bulkhead, but such errors were structural in capacity and thus beyond her ability to correct.

Her eyes fell on the temporary bed that had been allocated them. It was slightly askew of the starboard-aft corner. It had usurped her meditative space.

It was of no consequence, Spock reminded herself, meditation could occur anywhere.

Spock stepped aside, clearing the threshold, and permitted T'Vau entry.
science_blues: (Science)
Spock regarded the time evenly as she concluded the compilation of her daily notes. Two days prior, she had spoke to Christine Chapel (Non-Native) concerning the baking of snack foods, cookies specifically. The end of Beta shift had occurred precisely two minutes prior, and thus the afternoon had begun. Without pause, Spock pulled up the intraship communications tab on her PADD and entered a quick missive to Nurse Chapel.

Communication to Nurse Chapel, Non-native: ([ profile] originalchapel)

Concerning this afternoon. )
science_blues: (Obtuse)
(OOC - I should put a warning on this, there are some...uncomfortable family moments beneath the cut. Just FYI.

Also: If anyone wants me to retcon their conversation with fSpock, just let me know. Since it's unestablished wobble time, I figured what the hell? Why not?)

From her position on the floor, Spock regarded the ornament that decorated her doorway. As of yet, this was the only decorative piece she had acquired in this plane of reality. It was a curious element, disassociated from the space around it, and altogether fitting in a metaphorical sense.

That it had inspired, through some simplistic form of the Butterfly Effect, a sequence of curious visitations, only made it more interesting. It was impossible to divine the statistical likelihood of so many sequential visits, so Spock did not attempt to. Rather, she considered the visitations as she regarded the ornament.

She had met an actor who was a non Vulcan variant of Spock, spoken with the native variant of herself, engaged in conversation with a female variant of Christian Chapel, become somewhat engendered to her non-native variant, and had established a formalized friendship with James Kirk.

That particular conversation, extended as it was, lingered in her mind. The visceral reaction she'd acquired, as result, had not faded. As a prolonged state it was both unusual and uncomfortable, and Spock closed her eyes as she took a meditative breath.

It should have been easily corrected, her discomfort. It would have been, had it been any other subject matter. Spock resigned herself to the fact that she would garner little sleep and attempted, to the best of her ability, to clear her mind.

Internal clarity is often motivated by external complication. )
science_blues: (Sit)
(OOC - Set sometime after the away mission in Christmas-wobble-time.)

It was, perhaps, inappropriate to afford a section of the ship's power to the replication of decorations. Spock, however, was quite convinced that the representative nature of the replicated flora more than forgave the indulgence. Despite being convinced of this, it did occur to her that she should have requested permission before creating the item.

As the faux pas had already been committed, it was illogical to ruminate upon it. If it were an issue, she would apologise and offer appropriate recompence. Until such time as that deliberation were established, she would display it as was traditional.

Spock stepped away from the threshold of her temporarily allocated quarters and looked up at the hanging ornamental plant. It had an appropriate symbolism, even if the bow and bell were not precisely related. Nevertheless, it was how she had learned to display the object and appeared to do no harm.

"Insufficient," Spock decreed aloud and cocked her head 2 degrees counter clockwise. It required adjusting, though what specific variety of adjustment currently eluded her.
science_blues: (Straight on (prelim))
Spock was unaccustomed to being idle.

Her duties aboard her own Enterprise were difficult and numerous, often occupying the vast majority of her time. She had become acclimated to the constant torrent of work, and the sudden, distinct lack of it was...staggering. Without it, she had devoted her time to the methodical study of the ship, the individual environs, the alternated sections, the various settings, and the informational networks available to her.

As it was, she'd exhausted most reasonable details and, in turn, a vast majority of her patience. Without alternative scientific activities, Spock was left to decide what she wished to do. She had taken copious field notes within the confines of the Mess Hall. She was not in need of food, at current, and her notes were in need of sorting. It would not behoove her to take more, nor to visit that particular environ.

Perhaps exercise would help to clear the impatience that hovered in her veins.

Spock resolved herself to physical activity and left her assigned PADD in her similarly assigned quarters. It was not long before Spock located the gymnasium. Her blues were ineffective as exercise garb, so it was fortunate that spare garments were provided within the allocated dressing area. Properly outfitted, Spock took to the slow, sequential motions of ke-tarya.


science_blues: (Default)

August 2010

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