Millennial Renaissance Man ACTOR, DIRECTOR, POET, PHOTOGRAPHER LEONARD NIMOY PASSES INTO ETERNITY
SPOCK by Henry Fong
In a business of massive ego and terrible behavior directed at slicing and dicing their competition, Leonard Nimoy was known as a total gentleman, a class act all the way and a consummate professional at every turn.
For several generations around the globe he will be forever “Mr. Spock,” the half-human, half-Vulcan first office
You had your head in your hands, the feeling of frustrations coursing through your body like waves reminding you of the problem just a couple of meters away. Spock and Nyota. It was no secret of your feelings toward the calm half-vulcan, though the man in question had no idea Nyota on the other hand did and despised you for this fact alone. However the problem at hand was not about this one-sided rivalry but rather the couple themselves, to say that being in a relationship with an alien who doesn’t show their feelings is easy would be a lie. And you knew that your infatuation with Spock just made things worse. Nyota to put it simply doesn’t know if Spock loves her, but you had no doubt in your mind that he did she was everything that a man such as Spock would love: smart, confident and in Kirk’s words gorgeous.
It was no surprise he’d love her she ticked all the correct boxes, you felt
At least that was what he thought until he met you.
You were in almost every way his opposite- emotional, uninhibited, and, it seemed to him, the most illogical person he’d ever met, yet for some reason he felt drawn to you.
He was talking, well arguing, with Bones when you bounced through the med-bay doors to tackle him, “Leonard!”
Anticipating your greeting, the doctor caught you easily and swung you around, “Hey there darlin’ you’re early.”
“Uhh… yeah about that…” you said as he set you down to scrutinize you with a raised eyebrow. You rubbed the back of your neck, “We
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Prompt : Valentine’s Day
The Vulcan regarded the female who sat smiling widely across from him, one eyebrow raised in his version of confusion.
“I am aware of the Terran tradition of celebrating Valentine’s Day.”
His response made your smile drop ever so slightly, and you leaned closer to him across the table while your previous chess game sat forgotten.
“And you know its tomorrow, right?” You asked, leaning ever closer. Spock watched his T'hy'la’s increasing closeness silently. Her close proximity distracted him for moment, but he replied with;
“I am aware.”
"F-f-field log: Lieutenant (LAST NAME) re-recording f-f-for-"
You broke off your sentence, figuring it was useless to even attempt to finish the sentence. Rubbing your hands together in a desperate attempt to create heat with friction, you tore your gaze away from the small fire you had managed to construct in order to glace over at your fellow Star Fleet member.
Well, if I had to be stranded on an alien planet during a blizzard, I couldn't pick anyone else I'd rather be stranded with.
At the thought, a rasp of a laugh escaped your throat, the foggy mist of your breath rising and mixing with the gray smoke of the fire. Your companion, who had silently been contemplating your situation for some time now, turned his attention to you.