Lt. JG Roxanne Queen - arrive like butterflies
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Don K
Jul 31, 2026, 1:00:18 PM (3 days ago) Jul 31
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((Mel's Diner, Pheonix AZ, 1977))
Marty nodded but he was clearly thinking something. An Rox tried to hide her sudden attack of nerves. She had gone places with Peri before, short jaunt's through time and space. These were always times when Quinta, her Q mentor, had allowed her to access her powers. In this instance the space inside the rift was so full of Kardashev tachyons that even Quinta's lock couldn't keep her powers suppressed. It gave her access, but without her usual safety net.
Tucker: I was thinking ::mischievous grin:: What if we take the day and explore?
oO Lead me not into temptation. Oo
Rox: Where exactly would you like to go?
Tucker: October 22, 1990, Off Ramp Cafe, Seattle Washington ::he smiled innocently while looking down at his Pearl Jam t-shirt.::
She smiled and shook her head. That fit. She reached across the table to take his hands.
Rox: You finished? ::nodding at the plate::
Tucker: ::through a final mouth full of biscuits:: Yes, ma’am. ::he winked::
Rox: ::smiling:: Next stop, another closet.
Releasing one of her hand she snapped her fingers and once more a bright light flashed around them. When it faded they were once more pressed together in a dark space. She found she didn’t particularly mind it.
((Off Ramp Cafe, Seattle Washington, 1990))
They were in a closet, which was pretty standard. She could never quite land anywhere else. This closet had a particularly harsh, acrid smell coupled with something like alcohol sanitant. She'd sent them to the wrong place, this time they must be on some horrible volcanic planet with their long filling up with toxins. They smell was made worse as they plunged out of the closet onto the hard floor. She was once more on top of him and he gave her a quick kiss before hurrying to his feet.
Tucker: ::bright smile:: Holy crap Rox!
Rox: I'm sorry I took us to the wrong spot. Take my hand before these fumes turn our alveoli into black balls of necrosis. I promise I'll get us back to the Ron…in.
To her surprise Marty looked delighted. Apparently this was where he wanted to be. Turning to survey the wider space she could see many people through a haze that could only be one thing. Cigarette smoke. And the aseptic smell was alcohol. Not high quality alcohol, but
oO Oh no. I'm driving him to suicide. Oo
Tucker: You’re about to witness music history!
Rox: Exactly how long will we need to be here to witness the music history. I'm not sure how well supplied we are on chemotherapy agents back home.
Tucker: ::partly serious:: We should have paid for breakfast…::he shrugged:: just sayin’.
Rox: We'll leave a big tip next time.
Marty began moving toward the far side of the bar toward an even bigger space with even more people crowded in.
Tucker: Uh, Rox, the band we’re seeing is the band on my t-shirt, but they aren’t that yet – as I mentioned. I need to get a new shirt and::beat:: burn it…::sad tone:: I guess…don’t want to screw up the timeline, right?
If his shirt was unacceptable, her uniform was likely to draw attention as well.
Rox: Hold still.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and smoothed them down his arms. As she did a black and red checkered shirt. The material was thick, but soft and seemed to match some of the other patrons. She patted herself on the shoulder and a similar shirt of white and black appeared. Under the shirt appeared a T-shirt that read "Run DMC".
Rox: Now button up.
Tucker: Response
For all her concerns about their current location she could not help but catch some of Marty's excitement about where they were. He seemed positively over the moon and as they squeezed into the room the four men on stage began to play.
Rox: Here we go.
Tucker: Response
The acoustics in the space left a bit to be desired and with all four men in black and gray tones it was hard to make them out. The music seemed to burst forth from the blackness. The leader of the band sang, but with one hand in his pocket as if he was simply sitting on a street corner waiting for a bus.
Rox: Who's the sad guy?
Tucker: Response
Rox: Really? He doesn’t seem to have a lot of energy. Can you understand what he's saying?
Tucker: Response
((OOC - Mookie Blaylock - Off Ramp Cafe, Seattle, WA (10/22/1990) [First Pearl Jam Show Ever]))
--
Marty nodded but he was clearly thinking something. An Rox tried to hide her sudden attack of nerves. She had gone places with Peri before, short jaunt's through time and space. These were always times when Quinta, her Q mentor, had allowed her to access her powers. In this instance the space inside the rift was so full of Kardashev tachyons that even Quinta's lock couldn't keep her powers suppressed. It gave her access, but without her usual safety net.
Tucker: I was thinking ::mischievous grin:: What if we take the day and explore?
oO Lead me not into temptation. Oo
Rox: Where exactly would you like to go?
Tucker: October 22, 1990, Off Ramp Cafe, Seattle Washington ::he smiled innocently while looking down at his Pearl Jam t-shirt.::
She smiled and shook her head. That fit. She reached across the table to take his hands.
Rox: You finished? ::nodding at the plate::
Tucker: ::through a final mouth full of biscuits:: Yes, ma’am. ::he winked::
Rox: ::smiling:: Next stop, another closet.
Releasing one of her hand she snapped her fingers and once more a bright light flashed around them. When it faded they were once more pressed together in a dark space. She found she didn’t particularly mind it.
((Off Ramp Cafe, Seattle Washington, 1990))
They were in a closet, which was pretty standard. She could never quite land anywhere else. This closet had a particularly harsh, acrid smell coupled with something like alcohol sanitant. She'd sent them to the wrong place, this time they must be on some horrible volcanic planet with their long filling up with toxins. They smell was made worse as they plunged out of the closet onto the hard floor. She was once more on top of him and he gave her a quick kiss before hurrying to his feet.
Tucker: ::bright smile:: Holy crap Rox!
Rox: I'm sorry I took us to the wrong spot. Take my hand before these fumes turn our alveoli into black balls of necrosis. I promise I'll get us back to the Ron…in.
To her surprise Marty looked delighted. Apparently this was where he wanted to be. Turning to survey the wider space she could see many people through a haze that could only be one thing. Cigarette smoke. And the aseptic smell was alcohol. Not high quality alcohol, but
oO Oh no. I'm driving him to suicide. Oo
Tucker: You’re about to witness music history!
Rox: Exactly how long will we need to be here to witness the music history. I'm not sure how well supplied we are on chemotherapy agents back home.
Tucker: ::partly serious:: We should have paid for breakfast…::he shrugged:: just sayin’.
Rox: We'll leave a big tip next time.
Marty began moving toward the far side of the bar toward an even bigger space with even more people crowded in.
Tucker: Uh, Rox, the band we’re seeing is the band on my t-shirt, but they aren’t that yet – as I mentioned. I need to get a new shirt and::beat:: burn it…::sad tone:: I guess…don’t want to screw up the timeline, right?
If his shirt was unacceptable, her uniform was likely to draw attention as well.
Rox: Hold still.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and smoothed them down his arms. As she did a black and red checkered shirt. The material was thick, but soft and seemed to match some of the other patrons. She patted herself on the shoulder and a similar shirt of white and black appeared. Under the shirt appeared a T-shirt that read "Run DMC".
Rox: Now button up.
Tucker: Response
For all her concerns about their current location she could not help but catch some of Marty's excitement about where they were. He seemed positively over the moon and as they squeezed into the room the four men on stage began to play.
Rox: Here we go.
Tucker: Response
The acoustics in the space left a bit to be desired and with all four men in black and gray tones it was hard to make them out. The music seemed to burst forth from the blackness. The leader of the band sang, but with one hand in his pocket as if he was simply sitting on a street corner waiting for a bus.
Rox: Who's the sad guy?
Tucker: Response
Rox: Really? He doesn’t seem to have a lot of energy. Can you understand what he's saying?
Tucker: Response
((OOC - Mookie Blaylock - Off Ramp Cafe, Seattle, WA (10/22/1990) [First Pearl Jam Show Ever]))
Lt. JG. Roxanne Queen
Nurse
USS Ronin NCC-34523
T239811VK2
He/Him (player)
She/Her (character)
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