Apr 10, 2015, 9:59:32 PM4/10/15
((Jikku’s Tastes of Home))
DeVeau: My mother wanted me to be a singer, so that’s another reason why
she isn’t happy about Starfleet. That, and I’m her only girl so I guess
she’s a bit sentimental.
::His eyebrow quirked in amusement. *That* she remembered.::
Falkenstein: Riiiight. I made that up. ::Pause:: So what do your
DeVeau: Alexandre is a medical officer. Adrien...I’m not really sure
what he does.
::Her nose wrinkled as she pondered the puzzle and shrugged.::
DeVeau: Something with Security, I think, though not necessarily with
the station itself. He wasn’t very forthcoming.
::She paused, an impish smile crossing her face.::
DeVeau: Honestly, you kind of remind me of him a little.
::Brandon sighed and rolled his eyes. How quickly his hopes are dashed
with that dreaded phrase.::
Falkenstein: I hate reminding women of their brothers. ::snorts:: Anyway
I see your parents enjoyed the letter ‘A’. Mine enjoyed the letter ‘B’.
::At that moment the waiter returned bearing a laden tray that
represented their meal.::
::Alora leaned back to allow the maximum amount of room for the waiter
to set down her steaming plate, then plucked her napkin from the table.
As she flicked it open and settled it into her lap, she chuckled.::
DeVeau: The first three weren’t planned. Then, when they realised they
were having a fourth child they thought they might as well stick with
the letter - so Aime got an A, and then I came along and got an A as
well. What are your brother’s names?
::Brandon grinned his thanks to the waiter once all the plates were on
Falkenstein: Thank you.
::Then he took a drink before answering her question.::
Falkenstein: Benjamin and Beauregard.
DeVeau: Beauregard? That’s not a name one hears very often these days.
::Unlike Falkenstein, her own pronunciation of the name was more fluid
and seemed to lack a certain consonant that he’d added on to the end.::
DeVeau: I wonder if I’ll come up with some naming convention for my
kids. Well, if I have kids.
Falkenstein: It’s a family name. One in every generation. Beauregard
actually goes by his middle name Nathaniel. ::he grinned:: He hates
being called Lil’ Beau. Dad is Big Beau.
DeVeau: Beau’s a nice nickname.
::Alora mused over that a moment before she leaned over to peer at her
DeVeau: I don’t believe I’m familiar with...what this is.
::Brandon laughed out loud.::
Falkenstein: You seriously expect me to answer that? ::he peered at her
food.:: I think Mela’s been experimenting again and using her customers
as lab rats.
DeVeau: I am a lab rat. Squeak, squeak.
::Well, there was no time like the present. After placing a napkin upon
her lap, she plucked her fork from the table and scooped up a bite.
Brandon dug into his own meal. After a few bites he stopped.::
Falkenstein: And she experimented with this too… ::He quickly drank some
water.:: Remind me to shoot the person that introduced her to curry.
DeVeau: Curry? I _love_ curry. I’m assuming Terran - Pakistani, Indian,
::Brandon’s eyes were watering::
Falkenstein: Like I know which iteration of curry she’s using. I like my
food spicy….. but Damn!
DeVeau: May I try?
::Brandon slid his ‘souffle’ closer to her so she could grab a fork full::
Falkenstein: Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
::Alora pushed up a little and stretched across the table to stab a
piece of meat from the plate. After she settled back down, she popped
the morsel into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Brandon cautiously
tasted his Larish pie and was relieved there was no curry, which didn’t
belong anyway, had not been added to the dish.::
Falkenstein: Much better….
DeVeau: This is really good.
::Evidently spicy didn’t bother her.::
DeVeau: Mine is way more mild, but still good. Want to trade?
::Brandon cautiously took a small taste from her plate as was relieved
it was tolerable. Deftly he switched their plates letting her deal with
the too spicy Hasperat Souffle.::
DeVeau: I _love_ curry. It’s one of my favourite seasoning blends and I
don’t mind spicy at all.
Falkenstein: So I have a weak stomach. Add it to my list of flaws.
DeVeau: Of which I’m sure we both have plenty.
::Without any complaint, Alora made the switch and took Brandon’s plate
for her own. He dug into her plate and ate hungrily. It didn’t take long
for him to get through half of her plate and most of his Larish pie. He
paused to sip of his fizzy drink.::
Falkenstein: So… now that you’ve shot me down, is there a special
someone in your life?
DeVeau: Shot you down?
Falkenstein: Right in the crosshairs and burn.
DeVeau: We hardly know each other. It’s rather difficult to shoot
someone down when you’ve just started to become friends. However, to
answer your question, no. I’m assuming that means you don’t either?
Falkenstein: I’m still searching for that woman who doesn’t immediately
tell me I remind her of her brother. Usually followed by hooking up with
one of my friends and then I’m walking her down the aisle to marry the
DeVeau: Come now.
Falkenstein: ::shrugs slightly:: As for hardly knowing each other? Well…
my business is information. I know a lot about everything, but I never
lie. People just don’t usually believe me.
DeVeau: So does that mean you weren’t lying about your mother?
Falkenstein: What do you think it means?
DeVeau: Or were you lying when you said that you were kidding about her
being a famous singer?
Falkenstein: ::smirks: When the truth becomes a lie, then the lie is the
truth. ::he shook his head slightly:: People believe what they want to
believe. For example people don’t want to believe a famous diva has a
husband and five children. Who would believe a lowly ensign has a famous
parent. Therefore the truth becomes a lie and you learn to live with it.
DeVeau: I would believe it, but it’s hard to tell what’s truth and
what’s not with you.
::Even though they hadn’t known each other that long, he’d revealed that
much about himself, at least in Alora’s eyes. In response, he waggled
his eyebrows at her.::
Falkenstein: Have I confused you yet?
DeVeau: Most definitely.
Falkenstein: Then I’m very good at my job.
DeVeau: I can see that.
::Brandon watched her from the corner of his eye as he finished off his
pie and her ‘special’. He was surprised how easy it was to get her off
on a quick tangent without much effort. He really did always tell the
truth most of the time. Especially about himself. But he was also very
good at clouding the issue. He was indeed, very good at his job.::
Falkenstein: Okay I’ll be nice for a change.
DeVeau: Will you now?
::The curry added a splendid heat upon her tongue that didn’t seem to
bother her in the slightest. She nabbed a piece of what looked like
Terran naan bread and used it as a tortilla around which she wrapped a
sizeable amount of the curry.::
DeVeau: How so?
Falkenstein: You may ask me any question you like without limits. I will
either tell you the absolute truth or I will say nothing and shake my
head because I am not allowed answer. Deal?
DeVeau: All right. So is your mother _really_ a famous singer?
::Brandon winced. She would have to go back to that.::
Falkenstein: ::sighs:: Diva Natalia Rustikova is really my mother. That
is her stage name.
::Alora’s eyebrows arched upward, but her next question had nothing to
do with his mother.::
DeVeau: And do you really think rusty red is a good colour for you?
::He looked at her with narrowed eyes.::
Falkenstein: You’ve already used your question. And used it to expose my
secret shame. No more for you, young lady.
DeVeau: But I’m just getting started.
::Except with her food. That she had finished and the plate was wiped
clean with the last piece of naan. Brandon shook his head. He didn’t
know if this was a good thing.::
Falkenstein: I just bet you are.
DeVeau: I suppose I shall have to save more questions the next time we
Falkenstein: Oh? Is that what you think?
DeVeau: Of course - we’re going to do this again. Only next time, _you_
::Brandon snorted into his drink.::
Lt. Alora DeVeau
Chief of Science
Ens. Brandon Falkenstein
simmed by: R. Moonsong