Entry tags:
☤ 001
This is Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer aboard the USS Enterprise. Bridge, do you copy?
[ There’s a man in science blue standing next to the fountain, looking cold and grumpy as he shakes his device. ]
Damn interference… Enterprise, this is McCoy. I don’t know what the hell happened with those infernal transporters, but I’m damn sure I ain’t where I’m supposed to be. Scott, can you hear me? Jim? Uhura? Sulu? Chekov? Chapel? Anyone?
… Spock?
[ Nothing, not even the hobgoblin. Dammit. ]
Right, well. Looks like I’ll try and blend in. Christmas music and all...
[ Except since his communicator couldn’t reach the Enterprise, it broadcasted his conversation to the entire city instead… ]
[ There’s a man in science blue standing next to the fountain, looking cold and grumpy as he shakes his device. ]
Damn interference… Enterprise, this is McCoy. I don’t know what the hell happened with those infernal transporters, but I’m damn sure I ain’t where I’m supposed to be. Scott, can you hear me? Jim? Uhura? Sulu? Chekov? Chapel? Anyone?
… Spock?
[ Nothing, not even the hobgoblin. Dammit. ]
Right, well. Looks like I’ll try and blend in. Christmas music and all...
[ Except since his communicator couldn’t reach the Enterprise, it broadcasted his conversation to the entire city instead… ]

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So I'm going to assume that by now, you have no shortage of people trying to explain this to you?
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A handful and some asshole. [ That's Chase. ] Still not sure I believe a word of it.
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I doubt anyone here would fault you for that. It's a lot to ask anyone to believe, and we've all been in your position before.
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Almost makes me miss mission debriefings. [ No it doesn't. ] At least it's... welcoming. [ Festive. Christmas-y. ]
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Most people try to be. [Oh yeah, the curse.] Of course, if you mean the music, that should stop at midnight.
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They're not too bad, even if everyone's callin' this place somethin' different. But yeah, I could do without the music.
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The disparaging information, though - that would be because none of us can be exactly certain of what this place is. Whatever forces are ultimately in charge, they're not particularly forthcoming. Shocking, I realize, the thought of abductors withholding information from their abductees.
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[ He snorts. ]
If nothing else, they've built a pretty lookin' prison.
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I doubt it would seem very magical if they let it fall into disrepair.
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[ There's a pause and a slight rustle of fabric as McCoy runs a hand through his hair. ]
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[Pausing slightly...]
You've been sent a guide, I hope?
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Yeah. Two of 'em. Still damn hard to swallow.
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Honestly, though... I'm not sure I put much stock in that.
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[There's a moment where he's tempted, very consciously, to use your "I'm a doctor" bit, but he decides he can hold off on that for now.]
Doctor Wilson, by the way.
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McCoy -- though you probably heard that.
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That happen often?
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Often enough. I'd say anywhere from a third to a half of the posts on the network each day are unintentional.
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That's... [ a lot. ] No one's learned how to keep them off?
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Though, it doesn't seem impossible that they may not be entirely under our control.
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Ain't that a lovely thought.
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[Which is some comfort, he thinks? Hopes? He tries not to sound too opinionated about the City either way to new arrivals, letting them have their own reactions that he believes them to be entitled to. He doesn't want to make anything sound overly sinister.]
And, as a means of fast and efficient communication, the network isn't awful.
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