[ the sound erupts to his right, and while Spock has never been a creature of impulse, that is precisely where he goes. he recognizes Sulu's voice before he sees the man, and crosses the distance in a matter of seconds- long legs devouring the space that separates them.
he is a Vulcan. he is contained by nature and by nurture, by instinct and design. but in all of his years spent among human beings, he has come to understand that there are some matters in which words fail. standard is so imprecise a language. it leaves room for misunderstanding and doubt, but more than that- there are some needs that require more than the delicately structured reply. it is for this reason, that despite his personal reservations on the subject, Spock's hand finds the man's shoulder, and his weight drops to one knee. be steady. he wills. be still. be at peace. ]
no subject
he is a Vulcan. he is contained by nature and by nurture, by instinct and design. but in all of his years spent among human beings, he has come to understand that there are some matters in which words fail. standard is so imprecise a language. it leaves room for misunderstanding and doubt, but more than that- there are some needs that require more than the delicately structured reply. it is for this reason, that despite his personal reservations on the subject, Spock's hand finds the man's shoulder, and his weight drops to one knee. be steady. he wills. be still. be at peace. ]
Lieutenant Sulu.