Roundtable story (open for submissions, please)

[thedarkestcolors]

The first thing Henry saw after opening his eyes was a mostly black sock. It was also among the first things he smelled. It was sticking out of a pile of last weeks clothes spilled on his pillow. He pushed the pile to the ground and was ready to go back to sleep, but the sound of the TV annoyed him. And it didn't help the headache.

The world was spinning slowly and no matter how hard he tried to focus, it just wouldn't stop. Getting up was out of the question, so he buried his head under the pillow. It didn't take long until it was torn away and he was blinded by the sun coming through the drawn back curtains.

The silhouette of his girlfriend appeared, pillow in one hand empty laundry basket in the other, spinning in harmony with the rest of the world. It almost looked like she was dancing. But he could feel that there was no smile on her face.

[ maybe there could be a transition sentence to make it a bit smoother, but I couldn't think of a good one.. looks like there is room for one in the [booo] post ]

[Buster's Uncle]

[I like to use a "------" centered to indicate a scene change - but that's a formatting thing we don't have to work out a consensus about now...]

[thedarkestcolors]

[ I think stories need no scene change comments, it should be/become eventually clear from the story. It just feels like the [dream] needs a tad more of a transitionary "ending" ]
[Edit: ah I misread it, I thought you meant smthg. like: ---- Exeunt all but hamlet ----], looks good the way it is!]

[Buster's Uncle]

[Agreed.  Here's what we've got so far, with some transition marks worked in.  I only found one misspelling and deem that everything could hold together well enough so far...]


Seven of Nine was sitting on the floor in her quarters playing dolls with her best friend Naomi when her internal systems detected the dimensional rift.

Naomi, oblivious to the remarkable event, looked amused at Seven, who, still holding the dinner table of the doll house, suddenly had a brooding expression on her face.

"Naomi Wildman, come with me," Seven said, rising.

"Oh." Naomi said, extending her hand, "Grownup Seven, now."

"There is a dimensional rift three light-years off the starboard bow," Seven announced. "It is different from the others we've encountered."

Naomi forgot about pouring her doll a cup of Tarkalian tea. "How different?" she asked. "We've run into some pretty weird stuff out here."

Seven frowned, trying to think of a way to explain it to the girl who, while intelligent for her age, was still a child.

"It's moving this way, Naomi Wildman, quickly," she said, "We don't have much time to get to the Astrometrics lab."

Naomi had to run to keep up with Seven's long strides. "I haven't heard any alerts," she protested. "Shouldn't we call the Captain?"

"I already did," Seven said, "Hurry."

Naomi ran faster. "But how?" I didn't hear you call her."

Seven sighed. "Internal communications," she said. "I will explain this later."

They reached Astrometrics and slipped inside. Seven hurried to the console and began calling up more information. Naomi glanced around uncertainly; she still didn't know what most of the controls were for.

Suddenly the rift appeared on-screen. The two stared at it, dumbfounded.

Naomi spoke first. "That's... what is that, Seven?"

Seven frowned. "We may be in what Lieutenant Paris refers to as 'big trouble'."

"It looks like it's coming right for us!" Naomi said, almost screaming.

Seven swallowed, trying to quell her nervousness. She must be strong. Naomi must be strong. "Try to remain calm," she ordered. She activated her com-badge. "Seven of Nine to the Captain."

They both screamed as the dimensional warp enveloped them.

------

Meanwhile, on the Bridge, Janeway glowered at the viewscreen. "What the hell IS that thing, Harry?" she demanded.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. "Captain, I can't explain it. It looks like a giant... a giant..."

"It's a giant sock," Paris finished. He turned in his chair and faced the stunned Captain. "We've found the Lost Single Sock Dimension."

Just then Seven's frantic comm call from Astrometrics came through. Janeway tapped her combadge. "Janeway here. Report."

The only sound the Bridge crew heard was the bloodcurdling screams of Seven of Nine and Naomi Wildman. Then all was silence.

------

After a second's disorientation, Naomi looked around.

"Socks?" she said.

"And ponies!" Seven squealed.  "PINK ponies!"

"Why are the socks so BIG?" Naomi said.

------

The first thing Henry saw after opening his eyes was a mostly black sock. It was also among the first things he smelled. It was sticking out of a pile of last weeks clothes spilled on his pillow. He pushed the pile to the ground and was ready to go back to sleep, but the sound of the TV annoyed him. And it didn't help the headache.

The world was spinning slowly and no matter how hard he tried to focus, it just wouldn't stop. Getting up was out of the question, so he buried his head under the pillow. It didn't take long until it was torn away and he was blinded by the sun coming through the drawn back curtains.

The silhouette of his girlfriend appeared, pillow in one hand empty laundry basket in the other, spinning in harmony with the rest of the world. It almost looked like she was dancing. But he could feel that there was no smile on her face.

[Valka]

The mostly-black sock couldn't believe what it was witnessing. It had heard of humans being murdered for not doing their laundry, but had never seen it personally.

The sock recalled being left on the floor for days on end, lonely without its mate. And even now, it had no idea where its mate was. It would have cried, but socks have no tear ducts.

After the human on the bed had finished its last breath, the other human glared at the sock. "You're gone," she announced grimly. "Every last bit of his stuff will be GONE!"

The sock trembled. What'd I do? it wailed silently, trying to make the human understand that it was innocent; it hadn't intended to lie on the floor for so long.

But the human female evidently lacked the capacity to understand the telepathic communication used by sock-kind. When she dumped Sock out with the rest of her now-deceased companion's belongings, Sock grieved not only for its own soon-to-be-over life, but also for the loss of its mate.

I don't want to go! I don't want to go! Where is my mate? I must find my mate!

The distraught sock did not see the dimensional rift open up in front of it, but as it was drawn inside, Sock's last thought on 21st-century Earth was WTF?!

[Buster's Uncle]

------

Seven had just spotted a rainbow-colored pony when the sock landed on her.

[Valka]

Naomi stared. "How did that get in here?"

Seven picked the sock up and examined it. "I don't know. Perhaps it was transported here."

We don't use such crude technology.

Both Seven and Naomi jumped at the voice in their minds. Then Seven said aloud, "You're telepathic!"

Of course, the sock said.

"Cool!" Naomi squealed. Then she frowned, puzzled. "But how did you get on the ship?"

Teleportation, the sock replied. Have you seen my mate?

[Buster's Uncle]

"Wait," Naomi said.  "How did we get back on the ship?"

And what are you going to do with all these magic ponies while I search for my mate?

[Valka]

One of the magic ponies spoke up. "We're just along for the ride. Some of us were originally lost in the same way the mateless-socks were - lost and forgotten, and missing the children who were our companions."

"Oh," Naomi said, thinking of her dolls and Flotter. She'd hate for them to be lost inside a dimensional rift for who knew how long, missing her all that time. "Where did the rest of you come from?"

"There are many ways to become lost," the pony said. "But at least we're not searching for our mates, as the socks are."

Seven and Naomi exchanged knowing looks. Both of them knew what it was like to be lost, though thankfully neither had lost a mate.

Suddenly Naomi said, "Seven, we could help them, couldn't we?" She gestured around the room, which by now was rapidly accumulating socks, of varying shapes, sizes, and colors, no two of which were identical.

"Yes, we could," Seven agreed. She turned to the sock which had been the first to teleport aboard. "We can replicate mates for you."

[Buster's Uncle]

Suddenly you interest me, strikingly ectomorphic space lady; say on...

[Buster's Uncle]

[Do we wrap this one up (easy with magic ponies handy, and there's enough here for a complete silly short-short) and start a new one - or bring back the dimensional warp (or pony magic) and have more adventure?  I prefer the later option, but consider it un-cricket to add more before someone else takes a turn...]

[Valka]

Replicate? one of the socks asked, puzzled. You mean like a copy?

"Of course," Seven said. "We would have to scan you, then program the ship's replicators to produce a copy. Then you would have a mate."

"Seven, that's not gonna work too well."

Seven and Naomi jumped. They hadn't heard the door open, as they'd been engrossed in their conversation with the socks.

"Explain." Seven looked down her aristocratic nose at Tom Paris.

Paris sighed. "Do you have any idea just how many socks there are on the ship? They're on every deck. They've taken up half the space in the galley, and the Captain found one in her coffee cup!"

Naomi's eyes widened. She addressed the nearest sock. "That's not good. You shouldn't have done that. Nobody messes with the Captain's coffee. I'm the Captain's assistant, so I should know!"

[Buster's Uncle]

EMERGENCY! a distant mental voice cried out at just that moment, MEAN WOMAN RAMPAGING, DARN IT!

"Spirit Of Fun away!" the rainbow pony nickered as it vanished.

[Buster's Uncle]

[Rainbow pony socks - just because]

[Buster's Uncle]

[?  Hello; is this thing on?]