Lt JG Braya - I'll Be Right Back
Braya of Clan Ralnek
((Federation Headquarters Ballroom, Bolarus IX))
With a dark cloud hanging over her, mostly of her own making, Braya was using the latest glaikit get-together as another in a growing list of excuses to down several drinks too many. Alcohol subtly chilled her nares with its vapours as she, Elor, and Kettick discussed Eagle’s newest acquisition.
Kettick: No offence meant to the Envoy, but I would rather we have a new Chief of Security first.
Now there was a topic Braya would have merrily avoided. Failing that, another drink would surely help. A wave of her hand brought a server in the direction of her empty glass.
Braya: :: With a wince :: I ain’t ‘eard who’s takin’ ‘is place. ch’Clex, maybe.
A fresh drink in her grip, she savoured the flavour a moment, before gulping half the contents without so much as tasting it. The Chief Engineer cocked his head sideways, but did not comment.
Kettick: Possible. Security would either be folded into a joint Sec/Tac department, or an integrated Ops department under myself. We were discussing cross-department collaboration with mister Williams just before he transferred, ironically enough.
Elor, however, could not help but…be helpful.
Letek: I get the impression that you’re not drinking for the pleasure of it, but rather for the effect. Maybe... we should take it a little easier until dinner?
Multi-faceted eyes seemed to aim at her glass at Letek’s comment, soundlessly. Running a thumb over its rim, Braya frowned, and glanced away. Elor meant well, she tried to tell herself. But having her behaviour highlighted as a problem. Again. Was growing ever so wearisome. It felt to her as though she could do nothing properly, unless she pulled it from some Starfleet manual. The struggle to find a happy median had ground her down, to the point she broke before her XO and Captain.
Having thoroughly outed herself lately as a persona non grata, her eyes flicked around the room. Clusters of officers were whispering. Pointing. Their gazes lingered on her, then jerked away just as she turned her head.
Williams was leaving. The rumours as to why were many. But all roads led back to her.
And trying to wash it all away, for an evening at least, was met with reproach, however gentle.
Braya: ::Downhearted:: I’m a big girl. I can ‘andle a drink or two.
Elor raised his hands.
Letek: I didn’t mean that as an attack, Braya. You’re my friend, and I don’t want you to get yourself into trouble. We can totally get drunk together before the next mission, but this isn’t the best time for it.
Another push made Braya feel like a trapped animal. Apprehensive. Twitchy. Prone to lashing out.
Kettick: ... I thought that they only served synthethol?
The Engineer unknowingly threw her a lifeline; something else to focus on.
Braya: ::Staring into her cup:: I…got a knack I guess. For findin’ the right person t’ask.
oO And to pay off. Oo
Letek: Response?
Kettick: Have you ever considered a posting as quartermaster? Your ability to procure restricted substances in an unfamiliar environment is astonishing.
With the way he delivered his words, it was difficult to tell if Kettick had meant to be genuine, or comical. Wanting to assume the best, Braya tried. Hard. But doubt clawed at her like a beast, hungry for its dinner.
Braya: ::Darkly:: Like a cloakin’ device?
Her eyes did not leave her glass.
Letek: Response?
Kettick: I wouldn't know. But in this case, I agree with the doctor's assessment. I seem to recall a similar situation during a past Awards ceremony, and I believe you do not deserve the flak that would result.
Lifting her head, a glimmer of hope entered Braya’s thoughts. Perhaps they didn’t know. Or perhaps they’d heard the rumours, and did not care.
Braya: That’s…real kind. Both o’ ya’.
A gentle push with her fingers slid her glass ever so slightly away, capitulating to them both.
Letek: Response?
Kettick: :: Cocking his head sideways :: My one and only foray with psychoactive substances did not leave me much in term of good memories... or memories, period. :: And sadly, the videos had been erased by a freak EMP spike. Really tragic and unexplainable. :: What's the appeal, if you do not mind me asking?
oO First he wants me t’stop drinkin’, now he’s askin’ why I like it so much. Brother, don’t ask me t’sell it when I can’t partake. Oo
Braya: S’pose that’s complicated. You do it just right. Hit the slot perfect. An’ ya’ can be sober ‘nough to know what y’er doin’, and drunk ‘nough t’really enjoy doin’ it. The monkey in charge of bananas. Push a l’il further an’...well the consequences o’ things. Past an’ future. Don’t seem quite so bad. Go real ‘ard, an’ nothin’ matters at all anymore.
The avowal, and the realization that she wanted to be in the final stage of that progression, made Braya’s insides clench.
Letek/Kettick: Response?
Braya: Ain’t nothin’ t’worry ‘bout. ::Looking them in the eye:: I’ll keep it civil. No drunken dramatics.
And she meant it…so long as Alexander Williams didn’t lose all sense and turn up to the ceremony.
Letek/Kettick: Response?
Braya: ::With an authentic smile:: Just ‘scuse me a minute. I’ll grab m’self somethin’ with less bite.
Rising from her chair, Braya headed toward the bar. She’d meant what she’d said (at least in that moment), but circumstances were about to sour her mood faster than vinegar poured into milk, and drive her straight back toward the bottle; Alex Williams spotted her among the crowd, and approached from behind.
Tags/End for Braya ((will continue in a sim following the one with Williams))
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Lt. JG Braya of Clan Ralnek
HCO
USS Eagle
E240205B13