LTCmdr. Quentin Collins - Mindhunters

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Justin Partridge

Oct 15, 2021, 3:12:30 PMOct 15
((Interior. RAFT-ONE, Rec Area. Holodeck Cluster.))

Quentin Collins always felt a dorky sort of powerful in his chosen suit of the day. What his little brother would always affectionately tease him as his "Junior G-Man Outfit". A thin lapeled pale grey two-piece. Complete with a square-capped matching tie, carefully clipped with a vintage tie-clip that he had found in his own hometown years ago and comfortable, dark Florsheims.

Obviously, he thought he had overdressed for his next sojourn into the Raft, but MacKenna's invite stirred a sort of...posturing for him. He wanted to look nice for whatever she had planned for them, which had brought him to the Holodeck Cluster of the Raft's Rec Area (seperate from it's "Leasure Level" and Running Light District, apparently.). But there was also an element of "armoring" himself slightly as well. 

He always felt better, more sure of himself, more...adequate when he was in a suit. He had a somewhat stand-offish attitude toward fashion usually. It branched from his school days. He always tried to look somewhat nice for himself, but he also needed to always be comfortable. Which led him to somewhere between a mod and dock worker, which always drew snickers, even through his enlistment and commissioning. Meeting Kayla and somewhat finding himself amongst the stars on the Eagle too allowed him to find a somewhat "vibe" for himself.

But his brother and sister (and mother, to be totally honest) were the sartorially inclined Collins. He and his father were strictly sweaters and suits. Which is what led him to be standing in front of a huge holo-arch, in the middle of the galaxy, wearing something that could have been argued as trying too hard.

But that was also Quentin Collins all over. Trying too hard for people he really cared about and doing whatever he could for them. He stepped forward slightly, the arch opening and spilling heavy fog into the hallway. Quentin instantly found himself delighted.

A Voice: Enter Any Who Wish To Know...

Quentin clapped his hand once happily. And stepped into the darkness.

((Interior. Holodeck. A Short Time Later...))

Quentin Collins had been wandering for a bit. And while he expected to have seen a more concrete interior or "house set" so far, the heavy fog, darkness, and general unease of the interior truly reminded him of home. Another grim, but cooly comforting October night in Collinsport.

He thought that pretty much spoke volumes about him and his upbringing. What others might have found creepy and off-putting, he found instantly recognizable and swaddling. It was probably why he also worked so well in space. He was basically raised in darkness. In a place where weirdness was basically just part of the fabric of reality. It stood to reason that he thought this comfortable.

MacKenna's Voice: Perhaps it was the boots. Nothing to worry about.

Finally! Someone he knew! He started to turn what approximated into a corner and the interior around him shifted finally and fully. A hallway leading to a foyer. Where stood a collection of people from the Arrow. A pendulum clock, not itself unlike the great clock of Collins House, swinging heavily in the corner. And a pair of boots freestanding around their attentions.

Collins: Hello? 

Any: Response

Another Voice. A Woman's. Familiar: Right, sorry. Panicking won't help...

Quentin tried to make himself somewhat known, approaching slowly, as a friend would.

Collins: Room for one more, Commander?

MacKenna: Oh! Quentin...

He couldn't imagine how he looked. Popping out from the fog in a throwback suit, but Quentin was genuinely happy he had decided to get up and do something with himself. With Commander MacKenna AND the newly returned Doctor Mason, no less! And another of the new arrivals he had yet to meet properly. A...Grace Something? Or was it Something Grace? He had seen the updated duty roster just a day earlier, but it didn't hang in his head as well as he had hoped. Names always had a way of slipping out of his reach when he didn't make a point to study them. It was something Quentin was always annoyed with himself about.

Collins: Doctor Mason! Wonderful to see you here amid the...gloom. ::he turns slightly to Hope:: Quentin Collins, lovely to finally meet you as well. Despite the circumstances.


The clock suddenly chimed. A deep, thrumming chime. They all started it seemed like. And Quentin yelped a sudden laugh. And then tried to clamp it off with his hand.

Collins: Oh, this is VERY good. Did you set this up, Ash? It's too early for my birthday!



And then the boots, which had all but enraptured them all, basically...sprinted up and out of the room. A heavy door "upstage" of them all swinging open suddenly to allow them through and then SLAMMING shut back. The room settled heavily and the fog continued, trailing through the flooring and ancient carpeting and into the doorway.

MacKenna: Do we follow them?

Collins: I think we have to, right?

Mason/Hope/Any: RESPONSE

Somewhat as a group they all moved carefully toward the doorway. Quentin took it upon himself to be the one to open the large chamber door, relishing the authentically heavy feeling of the door and the deep creak of its olden hinges. The hallway was empty, save for darkness and fog, but...something seemed to be standing again in the middle of the murk. Quentin squinted, cursing his lack of forethought to not bring a light source, but he could see it after a second.

It was the pair of boots again. Just standing there. Suddenly, BANG! Another pair fell perfectly next to the original pair. BANG, another. Landing heavily in front of the original pair. Another, another, and another. Falling from the darkness above and piling themselves across the whole of the hallway. Quentin was trying to back up, fearing the flood of footwear would overwhelm them. 

But then the floor gave away. Hinging loudly and banging noisily as a trapdoor opened underneath them (and a few pairs of the phantom boots along with them), sending them all tumbling and sliding down into 

((Interior. The Crypt.))

They all spilled into the dust, Quentin first, and everyone else on top of him, sending a cascade of dust and cobwebs into the air. Quentin could only really see the ceiling above them. More ancient craftwork. Stone. The instant smell of earth and gloom also called forth home. 

They were in an underground crypt. Which also meant...

He raised himself up on his knees as everyone gained their bearings. He saw them immediately. Rows and rows of moldering coffins and more lining the walls in stone alcoves.

Collins: Okay, I am loving THIS less...

MacKenna/Mason/Hope: RESPONSE

Lieutenant Commander 

Quentin Collins III

Chief Science Officer


U.S.S. ARROW NCC-69829

ID: E239512QC0



(SB118 Forums

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