Question Meme

[transwarp_beam]

1 question...
1 chance...
1 honest answer...

That's all you get. Ask me one question. Any one question, anything, no matter how crazy it is. An honest answer. No catch.

Questions can be for this journal, or - because I'm lazy - warpedrive or mi_aosda. I suppose you can get one question for each if you feel so inclined ;)

Comments

Out of all the muses of mine to ask mScotty anything... don't ask o__O

[my_god_man]

[A flutter of wings in the middle of a dream. The interviewee is awakened to find a man both familiar and strange to him. He looks, in the basics of shape, like a colleague of the dreamer's. But his complexion is much to swarthy and the hair is much too platinum. The Chief Medical Officer of the ISS Enterprise has never sported a gigantic pair of dove gray wings, either.

The interviewer gives his subject some time to adjust to the situation. Calmly sitting Indian -- heh, that name amuses the blond intruder -- style, with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists. Once the engineer is done with his unique brand of tizzy, the angel asks his question.]

Why the hell d'ya pull that shit with Kirk? Ya gotta deathwish or sumthin'? [Three large feathers trickle down to the floor by Scotty's bed.]

It's original, I'll give you that ;)

[warpedrive]

What the bloody buggering fuck, Frankenstein?

[it takes him a moment to realise that there are certain key differences between this bloke and his favourite ghoulish CMO. The wings, for starters, are definitely new. Just when he's concluded that this is a particularly odd dream, the apparition speaks and derails him yet further. His immediate inclination to tell Frankencupid to fuck off is inexplicably diverted en route to his mouth, and to his absolute bewilderment he finds himself giving a completely honest answer...something he hasn't done in a very long time]

Y'seen the way people live on this ship? In fear for their lives, tryin' t'gather enough power t'protect themselves or t'be insignificant enough no' t'be worth the effort'a killin'. I'm no' goin' t'live like that. Won't do it. I'm no' fuckin' scared'a Kirk, an' I'm no' goin' t'pretend t'respect him just t'make my life easier. He thinks he can break me then he's welcome t'fuckin' try, but it's no' goin' t'work. An' if he can't handle that then tough.

Yey for spurr of the timeclock originality! ;) And thank you. :*

[my_god_man]

Frankenstein? Ehh... nevermind. I think I dun wanna know. [Waves a hand dismissively while reflecting a moment longer on what this Montgomery Scott in this reality has just said. Still has a disgruntled frown on his face.]

'K, yeah? Ya get points fer the impassioned speech 'bout freedom an' all. I totally get that. But what I don't get is the part where yer now askin' fer it. Fiddlesti-- Ah, ta hell with it! Not like it won't be mornin' soon 'nuff. [Glances about at their surroundings.] Shield's holdin' anyway. So... where wus I? Oh yeah! 'Bout ready ta pull outta can of Blasphemy on yer... ass. [Gets an almost giddy edge to his smirk. Dang, it always feels good to cut loose a little.] Right, so...

Fuck, son, yer bein' more than just defiant an' free an' all Braveheart. Yer jus plain bein' stupid. There's remainin' unbroken, an' there's the crap that gets yer finger lobbed off fer no damn good reason. [Looks down at adeptly healed, but still mutilated hand. All the while feathers steadily line the floor around

[warpedrive]

[glances down at his hand, flexing the remaining fingers] Alright, so maybe that one particular occasion didn' exactly end well for me. Freely admit that. But there's no point in regrettin' it when I know damn well that even if I'd known what was goin' t'happen, I wouldn't've done anythin' differently.

An' what bloody business is it'a yours anyway?

[my_god_man]

[Sighs and rolls eyes, muttering.] No wunder Siobhan was reassigned. 'Gain? I get where yer comin' from. But use some common sense, man. There's rebellion with a purpose. An' there's unnecessary provocation. Give that bastard hell when ya need to. [Pauses and looks at a wing, upon realizing that he didn't lose a feather for that.] ... Jus be careful ya dun get wrapped up in his insanity. That finger is pushin' the line. Dun let him drag ya across it.

[Smirks as he contemplates Scotty's question. Another glance about them, though, makes him think better on what he might have said.] Let's jus say ya got friends in higher places. An' yer situation's bad 'nuff ya needed an intervention. Jus... watch yerself, yeah? [There's sincere concern in the green eyes that look directly into Scotty's.]

[warpedrive]

Think you're under a fundamental misapprehension 'bout the nature'a this place. An' it seems a bit late t'be worryin' about my sanity when I'm hallucinatin' strange blokes wi' wings appearin' in my quarters. Either that or this's an elabourate ploy t'fuck wi' my head, somethin' I'd no' put past any one'a this crew. [though it's a bit subtle for most of them, the crew of the Enterprise tending to be of the straightforward 'knife in the back' school]

Hmm [stretches lazily, considering] Friends in high places, eh? Well, s'a nice change'a pace if nothin' else. Wouldn't'a said things were that bad though. [he studiously ignores the look of concern; its something he hasn't seen directed at him for a very long time, and it's making him uncomfortable]

[my_god_man]

No, I ain't. Trust me, I know what goes down here. [Says with a quick but clear look of revulsion and... sadness.] An' hallucinations or... heh, paranoia, isn't the insanity I'm worried 'bout. You ask yerself each mornin' if yer feelin' particularly suicidal. An' then ya remind yerself of that answer whenever ya run into Kirk.

[Snorts] 'Course you wouldn't. Fer one, ya gotta high opinion of yer abilities. Secondly, you dun got all the facts. [Attention strays yet again to their surroundings. This time, though, there's definite tension in his body and expression. Eyes don't stray back to Scotty this time as he continues.] Be thankful fer that. Anyway, I should go.

[warpedrive]

S'no' paranoia when they really are all out t'get you [and on the Enterprise they really were out to get you...and each other, and occasionally themselves in the more unhinged cases] An' I'm doin' the best I can wi' the facts I've got, so if you're no' goin' t'enlighten me then y'can stop criticisin'.

[long pause, considering him quietly with an uncharacteristically solemn expression, a hint of a sad smile in his eyes]

Listen mate...thanks for tryin'. Even if y'are just a hallucination or a fuckin' weird dream, s'still nice t'know that some part'a my subconscious hasn't given up. But I've known for a long time that I'm no' gettin' off this ship alive.

[my_god_man]

[Eyes continue to roam around them.] Not criticizin' son, jus... Naw, yer right, I am criticizing ya some. But I'm doin' it ta make a point. Which ya seem inclined ta believe yer approach is the only way. Well, if ya feel ya need a pile driver ta hit a nail... [Finally looks back to Scotty, eyes again full of concern.] You go on an' snuff that unique spark that's you all the much sooner than ya hafta.

[The guardian angel Leonardo Cupidis pauses as well, contemplating his temporary assignment. Their kind aren't allowed to appear to mortals except under certain conditions. Unless, of course, the case turns out to be a Special Charge, which no angel can predict or control. That's why he's worked things like this. Montgomery Scott blows his mind nearly as much as all the case workers before him. But being an imperfect angel, he thinks he understands the mortal better than the others. It's why he took this risk to TALK to the man. It seemed more productive than just poking off the next demon, imp or shade to come along in

[warpedrive]

['Enlightenment', eh? Anything with an audible capital when spoken aloud was as a general rule something you'd be better off not fucking with. But prudence, caution, lack of curiosity...not qualities he was known for. And so he leans forwards with a grin, eyes locked on the stranger's]

Try me.

[my_god_man]

[Oh boy, this outta be interesting. Still, he leans forward as well. Putting them in good eyeballing distance.] Knowledge's a burden, son. You don't take the time ta at least give what I've told ya some thought after this? Then yer three times the fool for it.

[Doesn't give Scotty the chance to respond. Simply leans in the rest of the way, pushing his lips against the mortal's. The Kiss is chaste -- They usually are -- but no less breath-stealing. Or more accurately, breath-giving, as energy both terrifyingly strong and wickedly exquisite forces its way into Scotty's mouth. Down his throat. Into his chest and out to every point of his body. Encompassing everything along its path. For a brief moment, Scotty's body doesn't know if it's in pain or ecstasy. Then it becomes a moot point as he temporarily whites out.

When he starts coming to, he hears the stranger's disembodied voice in his head.] //I've gotta split, now. Jus wanted ta apologize fer the hand. There's nothin' ta be done 'bout it, that one's kinda self-

[warpedrive]

[his eyelids flutter as he resurfaces, consciousness returning and bringing with it a sensation by now unfamiliar; he feels good. Aches so old and omnipresent as to constitute white noise have disappeared, leaving an odd restlessness in their wake. To say nothing of the heat coiling in the pit of his stomach]

What- [it's nothing conscious, almost pure reflex - before the sentence is even finished, he's already looking left]

[my_god_man]

[What Scotty sees.... cannot be fully described with words. In parts, it's easier. The first thing he sees lurking in the shadows over to the left end of his quarters are eyes. Glowing out from the darkness, so very obviously inhuman -- possibly not even alien, despite his years of space travel -- as they shift in color, sometimes blue, sometimes red and somehow, he can briefly perceive black. There's a heavy, terrible moment when those eyes and Scotty's lock. And when they do, he feels cold. In a way that not even Delta Vega had managed to affect him. From the inside out

[warpedrive]

[in the space of a heartbeat he's wide awake, bolt upright with his back against the wall and adrenaline buzzing in his veins. There isn't even time to make a sound before the...thing, whatever it is...is disintegrating in a cloud of flame and shadows]

[for a long time he stays very still, pulse fluttering frantically at the hollow of his throat as slowly his breathing steadies and his heartbeat returns to normal. It's been a long time since he's felt genuine, bone-deep fear like that. He closes his eyes, almost surprised to fnd that he's shaking. Insane. Definitely. Only explanation. But hopeful still at least rational]

What the ever-lovin' fuck?