safety || data & mulciber

by **thegirlnamedcrow** Mon Apr 13, 2015 4:58 pm

Data had not entered Ten Forward specifically

intending to seek out one of the refugees; had that

been his primary goal, he would have asked the ship’s

computer to locate the Phaestians before setting out.

No, as always, Data visited the lounge in order to find

people with whom he could practice his conversation

skills. Still, given that the new passengers had been

cleared to leave their quarters, he had accepted the

possibility that he might encounter one, and if he did,

he hoped to have the opportunity to talk. There was

much to be learned from a people who had chosen to live

so far away from the rest of humanity.

As it happened, when Data entered Ten

Forward, he recognized one of the Phaestians sitting at

the bar. A young man with ghostly pale skin and a

strange expression on his face. He appeared to be

alone, but given that he was in a public location,

it was logical to assume that he would not react

unfavorably to company.

After a moment’s consideration, Data decided

to approach the man.

“Hello,” he said, and, remembering his

manners, extended a hand in greeting. “I am Lieutenant

Commander Data. I was a member of the team that

brought you aboard the Enterprise. It is very good to

meet you.”

by **lindarkness** Thu Apr 16, 2015 5:56 pm

Ever since he had arrived at the Enterprise and gotten on to more stabilized grounds, his body had slowly been recovering from the ordeal he went through just a week prior to all this, and the lack of resources he had had available to him. Still now he could feel an ache inside of him, steadily throbbing underneath his skin, burning in his bones every time he stretched a muscle.

Yet, the man could sense within him clear signs of his improvement. No longer did he have to complain about lingering pains in his lungs, or an excessive shortness of breath. Even the soreness was his muscles was declining at a reasonable rate, at least; soon the pain would be back to the level that he was used to.

Despite that, Mulciber was restless. It had been several days since he had been places on this ship, and so far he had only received a limited amount of information about the state of his own affairs. For example, he was not sure exactly what would become of the planet and the rest of his people - although that particular shortcoming did not bother him very much. He had gotten the general idea of it, and in any case, he had never been overly attached to the place in the first place.

It was the general principle that kept grating on his mind.

Most importantly, nobody had told them yet what would become of them in the long run, where they would be transported to, and how they were supposed to just make off like that after they had been so abruptly "rescued". It was understood that they would find a way to safety, once they had reached an appropriate place to dock on, but the young man was quite reluctant of relying on those assumptions. He did not trust these strangers - now matter, or maybe especially how benevolent they might have appeared - as he was currently rather at their mercy. Even, he mused, if their intentions were genuine, he wasn't sure if they were competent enough to know what they were doing.

In any case, he was a refugee now.

It was at this tune that ge was deemed good enough to leave his quarters. Of course, the young man had immediately grabbed a hold of this new found freedom in order to make himself familiar with his surroundings. To no surprise to him, however, they did not grant him the permission to roam the ship freely and thus he had soon found himself in the largest area which they had been given access to: the Ten Forward.

At first he had assumed it to be some sort of irregular bar-complex, though that impression evaporated about as soon as he discovered that there was no proper alcohol to serve him, a prospect which darkened his mood further for more reasons than just the one. Any beverage so free of any toxins was meant for the women, the sick, and the children. And even though he had belonged to the second category for a long time now, it did not do him well to be reminded of that.

Drinking the juice he had been handed was like gulping raw egg yolks down his throat.

Mulciber had not expected to be approached in that place. He was never one to attract that kind of attention - for rather obvious reasons. And in that moment, he might add, he felt he would have looked particularly grim.

"Ah, yes", he said, looking up to the strange creature with surprise, "I remember"

by **thegirlnamedcrow** Fri Apr 17, 2015 5:10 pm

Data was unsure as to whether or not their conversation was,
to employ a human colloquialism, ‘off to a good start’. ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Though the [young man] had not displayed any of the typical |accessing… |
signs that he was interested in continuing to speak with |Name: Mulciber, Avarius III |
Data, he also had not indicated that his presence was in any |Species: Human |
way unwelcome. ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The problem appeared to be one of insufficient information.

Mr. Mulciber had said little, and Data was having difficulty

interpreting what that could mean.

Observation: Mr. Mulciber is in Ten Forward.
| |
| –––––>> Proposed explanation: Mr. Mulciber is in Ten Forward for the purpose of
| | | socializing.
| | –––––>> Supporting evidence: Most people who come to Ten Forward are interested in
| | socializing.
| | Mr. Mulciber is sitting at the bar, where one is more
| | likely to attract company.
| –––––>> Alternative explanation: Mr. Mulciber is in Ten Forward for a purpose other than
| | socializing.
| –––––>> Supporting evidence: Mr. Mulciber is alone in Ten Forward. As there are other
| refugees here, and others sitting at the bar with whom
| he could converse, it is possible that he is not
| interested in company.
|
––––––>> Analysis: Insufficient data to accept or reject either hypothesis.

Observation: Mr. Mulciber did not shake my hand or return my greeting.
| |
| –––––>> Proposed explanation: Mr. Mulciber is not interested in conversing.
| |
| –––––>> Alternative explanation: Mr. Mulciber comes from a culture that holds different
| customs for greeting. He may or may not wish to speak
| with me.
–––––>> Analysis: Insufficient data to accept or reject either hypothesis.

Observation: Mr. Mulciber responded to my greeting with four words, significantly below the average words per sentence for humans.
| |
| –––––>> Proposed explanation: Mr. Mulciber may be brief of speech. He may or may not
| | wish to speak with me.
| –––––>> Alternative explanation: Mr. Mulciber does not wish to speak to me.
–––––>> Analysis: Insufficient data to accept or reject either hypothesis.

It was clear that Data needed more information before he

could reach any conclusion about Mr. Mulciber. Continuing a

conversation with someone who may or may not wish to

converse could result in unfortunate consequences, but Data

was curious, and he allowed his curiosity to take

precedence over social niceties.

“It is quite typical of human beings to notice that which

is strange or unfamiliar,” he said. “Given my unusual

appearance, I have found that people often attribute more

attention to me than they do to my human crew mates.”

Believing that he may have discovered a point of common

ground, he added, “I imagine that you experience a similar

phenomenon, Mr. Mulciber, atypical as your appearance is.”

by **lindarkness** Sun Apr 26, 2015 4:22 pm

Mulciber laughed.

It was the only reaction that was possible for him to create in response to what he had just heard, and it erupted from within him as simply and as naturally as breathing, in and out, in and out. His laughter, of course, he knew, was just as ugly and grating as his appearance. And like everything he wore it unapologetically, an imaginary challenge to the very universe he inhabited, the very universe which had created him.

Laughing as he was the man more than ever resembled a dark creature of ancient, earthen myth. A ghoul, perhaps, his skin as dry and pallid as salt, not gaining colour even as the blood rushed to his face and his neck was exposed in a backwards motion.

His teeth bore a vampire's corruption within them, crooked, sharp, and as yellow as urine, they were clearly visible in his red, open mouth while the green juice he had been drinking was drooling from his lips and into his neckline. The liquid was devilishly sweet, and had a peculiar aftertaste to it, something cold and unpleasant that he couldn't quite place. It stuck to his skin like glue.

Still, he was laughing, the croaking sound of the action erupting from him like a hyena's cackle.

His eyes, yet, lost none of their intensity - in contrast the depth of them appeared to become stronger by the seconds. Even as his expression was taken by this supposed jest he was playing, they pierced through the room and focussed on this Data, tis strange, inhuman creature. It Mulciber a character of cold cruelty.

It was beyond unlikely to think of this subject as human, even to the slightest degree. No, there was something distinctly wrong and artificial about this thing: His movements were at all times tinted with a still stillness that yet in no way disturbed the precision and the efficiency with which he moved, for all of his actions were suspiciously deliberate.

Not once did his attention drift from the subject he was engaging in, his pupils did not move around without cause, his eyes did not glaze over, and his body remained perfectly still. There were no awkward movement scattered in between his speech like there were with other people. Never once did he change his position, or scratch his nose - he did not even shift his weight. It was as though he were some sort of golem, trying and failing to imitate true life.

And such a creature had the gall to comment on his peculiarity? The gall! The irony! The insult to it all! Mulciber could have died of laughter.

Once his demeanour had finally calmed down somewhat and he had lost his laughter, the young man turned to look at him with great deliberation. Finally, he gave him his largest, brightest grin.

"Why, why, Mr. Data, your advances flatter me", he said, "But if you're gonna flirt with me like that - compliments and all! - you gotta have the decency to pay me a dinner first, or at least turn around and let me see that ass"

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