It's Not Easy Being Green [ACT I]

Posted on Sat Aug 10th, 2024 @ 11:24pm by Rynlan Nemari
Edited on on Sat Aug 10th, 2024 @ 11:27pm

Mission: Into the Qniverse
Location: A forest
Timeline: After Q
1497 words - 3 OF Standard Post Measure

The sound of laughter vanished with the blinding flash of light leaving silence. The Orion Chef felt cold. Not just cold, but cold and wet. He brought up his hands to his face with an unexpected resistance, where was his glass? There was a pang of disappointment as he was rather enjoying the Red Wine he had been given. A splash of water flicked up with his hands and he rubbed his eyes, spluttering out water droplets from his beard.

Ryn’s vision cleared, he was standing in water, up to his shoulders at least. The dappled light was much brighter than the evening haze of Legoria II, this was a forest lake perhaps? Or maybe a pond. He was surrounded by large aquatic floating plants. “Victoria Nymphaeales.” He said to himself, they had to be given the size comparison to himself.

He felt too old for such adventures, but was this not the reason for coming on board in the first place? The Orion needed a change of pace. Though he wasn’t commissioned or serving, he could live the adventure vicariously through the crew. Close enough to help if needed but not intruding. Having never been a commanding officer he wasn’t privy to the classified briefing about the Q Continuum. However, as a Scientist, he had heard rumours about such divine beings, in this instance, he couldn’t put the two together.

He grunted quietly as he heaved his way out of the water, making it to a pebbly shore marked with taller stones. His feet ached, where were his shoes? The silty mud had given way to pebbles and rocks that forced his toes to flex. He shook himself off, where were his clothes? This wasn’t what he arrived in and those were his favourite Brogues. He sighed and winced, indeed, there were no shoes, only the green of his feet. He was dressed all in green, a linen shirt laced with some kind of brown cording and a saggy wet pair of darker green trousers. From the weight of them heavy with water, he guessed it was an animal fibre, wool perhaps.

He attempted to squeeze out the moisture from his clothes, pausing a moment at the sound of a commotion that could be heard a little way up the bank. “I don’t understand! Why am I like this? I was just dancing!” The voice sounded familiar to Ryn as he trudged out of the stones to what looked like a footpath, he followed it down to a small group of people.

“No, no this just won’t do.” The omnipotent voice from the party whispered this time, rather than the boomed announcement previously. “It’s just not … green enough …” another *SNAP* was followed by a blinding flash of light.

As Ryn’s view cleared for a second time, he shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face, at least he wasn’t wet any more. He was dry, a little too dry for his liking and why was he further away from the others than he was before? The Orion’s hand was slick as it moved across his face, not unpleasant which wasn’t what he expected.

A woman sitting in what looked like a mountain of fine blue silk and lace with a dainty crown sitting atop her head of tumbling dark sandy-coloured curls. A talk dark person with fitted trousers and an embellished tunic in a matching but darker shade of blue with golden trim, this person's hair was shaped in such a way that revealed longer pointed ears, “A Vulcan, or maybe a Romulan?” He murmured still drawing close. The third was most certainly a Bolian, there was no hiding the vibrant blue of their skin and distinct lack of antenna, more simply dressed than the other two and in closer attire to his own if a touch more refined.

“It seems we've encountered a phenomenon that resembles a primitive time period, though it may have a scientific explanation. To resolve this, we need to analyze the source of the anomaly and determine how it’s affecting our current environment and the individuals involved.” The Vulcan attempted to reassure the woman, but it didn’t hit the spot.

The Bolian carefully touched the woman’s arm crouching beside her as she sobbed on the floor, “It’s okay Emily, T’Lar is just trying to find a way out of … this?”

“Is everything okay?” Ryn called from a distance and the others looked out for the source of the voice.

“Who’s there? Is that?” The Bolian looked away from his distraught friend and past the Orion.

He moved close at a considerable pace, he felt like he was bounding over in great strides. “Yes, over here. It’s Rynlan Nemari, the Chef from the Athena?” He was getting hotter and more parched, he wasn’t that old, was he? Surely he’d moved less than a hundred metres.

T’Lar moved out in front of the pair surveying the area with an intense analysis, “I am unable to visually locate Mr. Nemari. He may be no longer within our visible spectrum. The local flora and fauna may be affecting our perceptual abilities.”

Ryn moved forward, how were they getting so big? Was he not on the same spectrum? “No, I’m here. Down here.” His words drew out, were they big or was he just that much smaller? He attempted to look down at himself, but he couldn’t. There was an awkwardness to his movement and he could barely see his hands, they were green before, so it was no shock that they were indeed still green.

The Bolian stopped comforting his friend and turned toward Ryn, standing up and taking only a few steps forward. The strides, they covered so much ground. He couldn’t comprehend the sheer size of the giant blue man who was now bending over him. “Is that you Chef? You’re not this little thing are you?” A huge digit prodded him in the side.

“Huh … wha- … HEY!” The Orion managed to exclaim after the unwanted contact. “What’s going on!! Where are we?” He squinted and looked up at the giant Bolian realising the face, no matter how huge did look familiar. “Zorak is that you?” There was movement and tightness around his body, a blur of colours before everything stopped again.

The Vulcan, T’Lar. “It appears that Mr. Nemari has been transformed into a small amphibious life form, likely a frog.” Ryn let out a screech, unlike any other noise he had made before. He was now being studied closely by two large faces, let alone being manhandled.

Scrapping sounds could be heard from behind the two of them as the human that had been identified as what he now recognised as Crewman Emily Ramirez had hauled herself off the floor. Her eyes were red and curls stuck to the side of her face, “Rynlan? You’re a frog.” The torrent of tears began again from the engineer as she clutched a plush blue velvet button-tufted pillow.

Ryn closed his eyes and drew a long deep breath, his clammy hands running over his face tiredly, “We need to figure this out. It’s a puzzle or a game, it has to be.” He tried to be logical despite his shock and discomfort. “Does anything look familiar? Emily, you look like one of those fairytale princesses from the old Earth stories they tell children.”

He wriggled frantically to get out of the Vulcan's grip around what he would assume was his waist and sat himself on her hand instead. “Are there any stories about Princesses and lakes? And I guess a frog.” The Orion gave an involuntary croak.

Emily sniffled, clutching the plush blue velvet pillow tightly as she tried to compose herself. Through her tears, she looked at Ryn, her eyes widening slightly as realization dawned. “Wait... a frog and a princess by a lake... This is like the old fairy tale, 'The Frog Prince.' In the story, a princess loses her ball thing in a pond, and a frog retrieves it for her. Eventually, the frog turns into a prince.” She paused, dabbing her eyes with the corner of the pillow.

“Hey, that’s a good catch. It sounds like we’re caught up in this old story. If that’s the case, maybe playing along is the key to getting things back to normal.” Zorak reached a hand up to the Crewman's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, we can this out… can’t we?”