Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn - Amygdala Hijack

[Bryce Tagren-Quinn]

((White Lion, Iana Station))

As the four doctors navigated through the throng of people threading their way through the bustling station, they were assaulted by a variety of food aromas and bore witness to multiple advertisements that shifted images with great speed. No doubt, it was an attempt to appeal to whatever individual caught its attention, most likely driven by some kind of stereotypical algorithm. At least, he hoped it was impersonal like that. 

Before long, they ducked into the richly-colored, cozy White Lion. The pub presented itself with a mix of styles: the sleek metal bulkheads of the station and rustic, faux bricks and panels of wood. Overall, it was quaint and welcoming.

Tagren-Quinn: Table or…

The Acting CMO was quick to pip in with a quirk of a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

 

Namura: Table. Less opportunity for random approachers.

The woman was right. It would afford them some semi-privacy so they could completely remove themselves and unwind. Perfect.

 

Sirin: Response

They made their way in and looked around in the dim lighting in search of the perfect spot. There was a bar off the way that housed a number of pint glasses and a few tables scattered about. While busy, it wasn’t overly so.

 

Namura: Over there, ::she pointed to a quiet corner:: out of the way but enough to see everything in the event there's a bar fight. Wouldn't want to miss that, would we?

Ah, the prime location. Dinner, beer and a show. 

Loxley: Do you find that bar fights happen often when you’re around, Tali? I’m just asking as I’ve been in plenty of bars and never once seen a bar fight. ::he paused, thinking:: At least not that I remember.

Bryce couldn’t help but chuckle. The truth of the matter, he had seen some. May have even been involved in some, once upon a time during the dark days. But it wasn’t something that he would reveal in a setting like this. He just smiled, taking in the ambience and the good mood. 

Sirin: Response  

 

Namura: Not that I know of. Station Security here is as tight as an Engineer's ringbolt. They're methodical about anything remotely aggressive and will haul someone off to the Brig before it escalates. ::She shrugged a shoulder.:: I think there were riots here, at one time. Something about the Bajorans from Tyrellia seizing it way back during the war. But I could be misremembering.

They moved over towards the dark wooden table positioned out of the hub of activity. It was covered in scratches and dings in an attempt, no doubt, to contribute to the feel of the place. But, he also secretly wondered how many people visited this one table and who they might have been. It would be an interesting experience to log the activity.

Tagren-Quinn: Not surprising, considering the amount of traffic that comes through here and, with it, the amount of things that could go wrong. 

He glanced and smiled over to the other El-Aurian, who was wearing a fetching silvery-gray dress, as they slid into their seats. 

Sirin: Response

Menus were holographic and the advertisements were non-stop. It was a stark contrast to the bricks and wood that surrounded them. 

 

Namura: The menu looks as inspiring as expected, so what's it going to be?

Loxley: Chips, obviously. Chips and beer.

Bryce flipped through the variety of options, concentration deep on his brow. He clanked a ring on the table-top absentmindedly. 

Tagren-Quinn: I haven’t had a good burger for a while. And, beer… most likely.

 

Namura/Sirin: Response

Loxley: I believe it was the responsibility of our newest doctors to get the first round in? I recommend four pints of ale and whiskey chasers. ::he grinned:: And something for the rest of you, too.

The comment from the other man made Bryce laugh deeply, making him feel at ease and appreciative of the company despite the upcoming dent to his wallet. 

Tagren-Quinn: Of course, help yourself. Anything you want. Meidra and I are prepared.

He smirked at her.

Namura/Sirin: Response

Loxley: I like this set up. ::he gestured to the pub around them:: Reminds me of home. I bet there’s a landlady called Rose or Mavis who says “yes luv, what can I get ya?” when you go to the bar.

Bryce chuckled softly. He thought he might have picked up an accent and wondered about the other man’s background. 

Namura/Sirin: Response

Ahh, yes. This was exactly what he needed. A night out, some downtime with colleagues and perhaps, one day hopefully, great friends. To enjoy their company, share stories. 

As his face brightened from the joyous smile on his face, it quickly cracked and faded when he caught a glimpse of a slim, dark-haired female on the other side of the pub. The room had minimal lighting, and his view was distorted by patrons, but there was no mistaking who she was and apparently she had spotted him as well. She waved enthusiastically before descending on their table like a bird of prey, wearing a form-fitting shimmering gold dress that went just above her knees. 

Female: Paging Doctor Q-T Pie… what are you doing here?!

He clenched his hands and the tips of his ears grew red. His eyes darted between his seated colleagues as she placed her own hands on the small table and leaned towards him with a predatory smirk forming along her full red lips. 

Tagren-Quinn: ::sighing:: Um, hey Gexena. ::clearing his throat:: Everyone, this is Gexena. Gexena… everyone.

He motioned around and she just leaned away with the grace of a feline, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. Heartbeat quickened. Breathing grew more shallow. 

Of all the places, of all the moments in time. Of all the planets and stations. 

She was here. How did that even happen?

Gexena: Pleasure. 

Namura/Sirin/Loxley: Response

Tagren-Quinn: If… ::he raised his hand and smiled apologetically to the other three:: Excuse us for one moment. 

Namura/Sirin/Loxley: Response

He pushed himself away from the table and guided the Betazoid woman over near the bar. They shared a few words, which resulted in her grabbing the belt-loops of his pants with her hands and dragging him closer to her. For his credit, Bryce raised his arms defensively, his mouth moving a mile a minute. It was hard to hear what they were saying, but he was clearly agitated and she was unrelenting. A beat followed another and, eventually, she started to move away – but not before planting a well-placed kiss near the corner of his mouth. As she sauntered out of the pub, Bryce rubbed the back of his neck and made his way back to his colleagues. 

Tagren-Quinn: Yeah, um, sorry about that. 

Namura/Sirin/Loxley: Response

Tagren-Quinn: She’s, uh… my ex. You know how it goes. Now, about those drinks…

Namura/Sirin/Loxley: Response

Tagren-Quinn: Let’s get our food, that first round, and maybe share some stories. 

…to create distance from all that. Embarrassing. They might ask him more, and he was prepared, but right now he was interested in knowing more about them than visiting his own past. 

Namura/Sirin/Loxley: Response

--

Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D.
Medical Officer
USS Gorkon (NCC-82293)

T238909AT0