spohkh | Intro Log - Voice/Action

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introduction

Intro Log - Voice/Action

[Illogical does not even begin to characterize the situation that Spock has found himself in. Approximately 2.4 minutes ago he was on the bridge of the USS Enterprise, and through some, as of yet unexplained phenomenon taking no time at all, (possibly through some spacial anomaly or undetected ion storm) suddenly appeared inverted in a tree... Current conditions also leave much to be desired. Spock's Vulcan physiology requires higher temperatures, and proper garments for optimal comfort... the forest in which he is now located has a lower than optimal temperature, and coupled with the disappearance of his Uniform and thermal wear he finds himself rather... cold. Though, perhaps it is fortuitous that he appeared in clothes at all... the white pants will have to suffice.
Upon his initial assessment, and descent from the tree, he was amazed to see an alteration to his physical person]

...Fascinating.

[Spock cards his fingers through the feathered protrusions located in the area of his scapula. Since he could feel a rather curious sensation through manual stimulus of the ...wings, Spock can safely assume they are indeed his newly acquired appendages. He could not fail to notice that his wings are the same ebony color his hair is.
Taking in his surroundings, Spock could hear the sound of running water close by... but nothing significant that could give him evidence of his location. The terrain was similar to that of Earth, however, there was 'something' about them that Spock could not quite explain that told him 'no, this is not Earth'...
As he was about to venture towards the water in hopes of finding civilization, something catches his attention... it appears to be some form of recording device located at the base of the tree in which he just descended from. Picking up the device he also notices that it has his name on it and it appears to be active. Curious... This proves that he was indeed sent here on purpose. But why?
Spock finally decides to speak out loud.]

Greetings, I am Spock. Is there a conscious form of life out there that can tell me my current location?

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My apologies, I appear to have 'overstepped my bounds.'

[Spock was a little shocked at how carried away he got... He has used the prime directive on multiple occasions and has rarely ever had any altercations.]

Overexcited and over invested at the mention of murder. It's a common thing in the more civilized worlds, from what I understand. I'm far behind most here but willing to learn. What I am, though is what I am. Why pretend any differently? My skills are of use to the village.

[He shrugs and motions for Spock to follow, continuing down the path a ways.]

[Spock follows closely beside Zevran. Ka'adith, what is, is. It would seem that his appearance here was affecting him more than he thought. Perhaps acquiring his uniform will aid the situation.]

[It is as Zevran said- roughly an hour's walk to the village from where he'd found the strange elf that was not an elf. They break through the treeline to the main path leading to the plaza in short order.]

I take it you would wish for your clothing first, yes?

Indeed, where should we start?

Unless the Malnosso deposited your clothing in the fountain- the store.

[He motions for Spock to follow and cuts across the tiled plaza, makes his way around the fountain and holds open the door.]

Your things will be in here. Somewhere.

[Spock nods at Mister Zevran and steps into the shop.]

[He could let the man wander and find his things on his own but...curiosity bid Zevran peer inside. Besides. He may find more of those delightfully comfortable shirts. He follows and flips through the racks, one eye on the tall, pale elf that wasn't.]

[Spock could feel Mister Zevran's eyes on his back... he still did not know how to describe this being. However, for now, it seemed that Zevran was content to live here in Luceti... and not partake in other questionable activities.

Ah yes, there is his shirt. Spock lifts the hanger holding his shirt and pants up....]

It would seem that I have located my Uniform. One moment while I put it on.

There are rooms for changing at the end of the room, just along the wall. I am fairly certain you will be more than able to dress yourself without assistance.

[Zevran barely looks up from where he's flipping through the clothing racks. He was no minder of children, and this man was an adult. He could handle himself in the dark, dangerous dressing room all on his own.]

[Spock raises an eyebrow and simply nods at Mister Zevran before going into one of the changing rooms.

After a few minutes Spock still has not emerged.

A few more minutes pass by... still nothing....

There are a couple of banging noises coming from the changing room...

...

[It shouldn't take this long to dress oneself. At all. Ever. Even when he fumbled with the new metal contraptions involved in the fastening of these trousers he's taken to wearing it did not take this long.

...

Curiosity, as ever, spurs him to move to the changing room and knock.]

Is all well, my friend?

I am experiencing some... difficulty fitting the wings under my uniform. Do you have any sharp device that I may utilize?

...if you let me in I will do you one better, my friend.

[Spock hesitates for a moment... but he was in a compromised position, and he needed assistance. His shirt was over his head and he had managed to put his arms through... but his uniform was stuck quite uncomfortably above his wings...

Spock opens the door in silent agreement. ]

I am all for appreciating tight clothing but this seems a bit ridiculous.

[Don't mind him slipping inside and just leaning back to admire the view for awhile. Lean. Pale. A very pleasing figure to the eye and it is becoming more than a little blatant that he's not focused on the problem as much as he could be.

Without much further commentary he pulls a knife from the small of his back- a slim, light blade, and reaches up with a warm hand to rest it against the base of his wings. The fabric was strange to him, but not a bad color.]

[Spock jumps a little at the contact... he is not used to such... physicality. However, he remains silent. Spock can feel the scrutiny at his back, though he does not know how to deal with the situation.]

[Follow the line of the shirt, make the requisite cuts, and step back.

Or.

Have a little fun.

The choice was an easy one to make, really. Zev did slide his hand up a few inches along Spock's back, attempting to tug the fabric away from the man's cool skin, the side of his hand brushing and disheveling a few of his feathers.]

Hn...this is tricky.

[Spock gasps and jumps forward a little when Zevran made contact with his wings... they were not exaggerating when they mentioned the initial sensitivity. It was a feeling he could not... describe.]

M-Mister Zevran, what appears to be the i-issue?

[Oh now that was a delicious little sound. He stills his hand, waiting for Spock to calm himself. Maybe he brings his hand to the side a bit. Musses another set of feathers subtly. Grinning all the while like the wicked thing that he is, of course.]

The knit of this fabric does not give that much, and you do not seem terribly experienced in the control of your wings. Give them a little flap- they are more flexible than you seem to give them credit for.

[Spock does his best to concentrate.... though proper cognitive functioning seems to be rather difficult at the moment. Spock does not seem to notice the shift in conversation.]

I-I will do my best to comply. [Spock stretches and then flaps his wings experimentally.]

Perhaps if you pull, the fabric will stretch enough for our current needs? [Fascinating... sensory overload.]

I am going to try to lay one flat against your back so I might move the fabric down. If it becomes uncomfortable- tell me. These appendages are delicate.

[He'll need both hands, the knife goes behind one ear. True to his word his touch is light. Delicate. Very gently folding the wing along it's natural formation to press against Spock's back.]

Can you hold it here?

I-Indeed.

[Spock braces himself against the wall in front of him... he is experiencing a mild level of discomfort. A rather curious sensation... it is not pain, but... ]

Alright then.

[He releases the wing and watches it carefully, making certain that Spock can indeed hold it against his back on his own before sliding his fingers to the base of the opposite wing. He once again ran his fingers through the softness of Spock's feathers and begins to carefully fold it along it's natural inclinations. Halfway there he stops, peers around Spock to check his expression]

You are well?

[The sensory overload is starting to affect his mental shields. Spock actually shudders when his wings are touched again. This...'side-effect' is most unfortunate. Spock can only hope is passes quickly.

When Mister Zevran looks over Spock's shoulder, he should see his eyes closed and his scrunched up face, topped with slightly elevated breathing.]

I... am well. [Spock is stubborn like that.]

Are you nearly complete?

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awww... you made Spock stutter! XD

He'll do more than that if you let me get away with it. >->

We'll see what the muse comes up with. XD

Oh ho ho ho~

Good grief... the direction is amazing. XD

I am bad and should feel bad. But I don't.

Re: I am bad and should feel bad. But I don't.