[Crack bananas are made of crack?] [Len, T'Vau, ?]
[OOC - fits into wobble time, whenever is most convenient. Have some plans for this, but feel free to drop in!]
To a casual observer, the ear-splitting grin that spread across Leonard's face as he hit post might have been somewhat alarming for its manic edge. He, however, remained blissfully unaware of this fact. The world, after all, was shiny, and whilst that banana had been surprisingly excellent for replicated food - clearly, he'd been far too suspicious of those machines - pie was a necessity. Or something equally delicious. Cookies? Milkshakes?
He would figure this out, on the way. First, there were some equally crucial deliveries to make.
It took a little longer than he'd expected, though none of the odd looks he received on the way quite penetrated the haze - he was thankfully focussed enough on his task to avoid hugging each passing crewmember, though every person in his remote vicinity received an overly bright smile. The world was simply... fantastic, and he was floating on air.
These walls were really very bright, blindingly so, enough to interrupt his path to the mess hall, as he halted in front of one of them, stroked down its unnaturally smooth surface with his hand, shaking his head in joyous amazement.
"Lensflare," he muttered under his breath, almost reverently. "Now why did I never think of that? Stroke of genius."
The only problem with the walls, he reflected seriously, was that they were far too... naked. This, however, could be easily remidied - the replicator in the nearest rec room handed over a can of red spray paint without trouble.
Leonard set to work with utter concentration and swiftness, moving along with a swiftness that, as coincidence would have it, prevented anyone from witnessing the vandalism in process.
Not that he considered it such. It had a message; therefore it fell under the definition of art.
---
Gifts left outside personal quarters, excepting the actor's suite:
Bill/De: Leather collar; jar of rose jam sitting inside it
Jim/Spock: Lesbian porn vid, note attached reading YOU = INFINITELY HOTTER
Tina: High-heeled shoes with unicorn pattern
fSpock: Glow-in-the-dark strap-on, plus bondage cuffs with faerie lights, note reading Since you don't like the dark...
TOS!Uhura: Thigh-high stockings plus suspenders. With BUTTONS.
Christine: Bunch of yellow roses - buds at ninety degree angles to stems, suspicious aroma of catfood - evidently replicator had given up the ghost, by then.
To a casual observer, the ear-splitting grin that spread across Leonard's face as he hit post might have been somewhat alarming for its manic edge. He, however, remained blissfully unaware of this fact. The world, after all, was shiny, and whilst that banana had been surprisingly excellent for replicated food - clearly, he'd been far too suspicious of those machines - pie was a necessity. Or something equally delicious. Cookies? Milkshakes?
He would figure this out, on the way. First, there were some equally crucial deliveries to make.
It took a little longer than he'd expected, though none of the odd looks he received on the way quite penetrated the haze - he was thankfully focussed enough on his task to avoid hugging each passing crewmember, though every person in his remote vicinity received an overly bright smile. The world was simply... fantastic, and he was floating on air.
These walls were really very bright, blindingly so, enough to interrupt his path to the mess hall, as he halted in front of one of them, stroked down its unnaturally smooth surface with his hand, shaking his head in joyous amazement.
"Lensflare," he muttered under his breath, almost reverently. "Now why did I never think of that? Stroke of genius."
The only problem with the walls, he reflected seriously, was that they were far too... naked. This, however, could be easily remidied - the replicator in the nearest rec room handed over a can of red spray paint without trouble.
Leonard set to work with utter concentration and swiftness, moving along with a swiftness that, as coincidence would have it, prevented anyone from witnessing the vandalism in process.
Not that he considered it such. It had a message; therefore it fell under the definition of art.
---
Gifts left outside personal quarters, excepting the actor's suite:
Bill/De: Leather collar; jar of rose jam sitting inside it
Jim/Spock: Lesbian porn vid, note attached reading YOU = INFINITELY HOTTER
Tina: High-heeled shoes with unicorn pattern
fSpock: Glow-in-the-dark strap-on, plus bondage cuffs with faerie lights, note reading Since you don't like the dark...
TOS!Uhura: Thigh-high stockings plus suspenders. With BUTTONS.
Christine: Bunch of yellow roses - buds at ninety degree angles to stems, suspicious aroma of catfood - evidently replicator had given up the ghost, by then.