Ensign Miaxdiso Avoi - Part-Time Interior Designer
Doz Finch
((Empty Quarters, Deck 4, USS Gorkon))
The felinoid Operations Officer, Lieutenant L’rann, perhaps didn’t have the facial muscles capable of conveying every singular emotion like so many of the typical humanoids Miaxdiso had worked with over the years, but the tone and delivery of her voice, along with her vinegary choice of words, said enough—but not even that could stop the deluge of dread filling the diplomats body from top to bottom.
L’rann: May I suggest storage? ::She said in mild annoyance.::
Avoi: Well, of course, ::she said, voice lilted as she bravely stepped into the room:: I can be very creative in a pinch! But I’m no architect. This is a *very* tight squeeze! ::She proffered the Lieutenant with a gracious smile:: I think you underestimate just how many things I have brought with me. One can never be too prepared! Certainly not when one is a—
L’rann: Yes, Ensign, I do see you are a diplomatic officer. That does not require you to be on the same deck as the diplomatic suites. Turbolifts exist for a reason.
She wasn’t getting very far with the woman who had led her orientation and quarters assignment, and who had about as much empathy for her situation as an Idridi claypot. Mustering up the strength to carry on, she circled the room, maintaining a perfect, if slightly twitching smile. In an attached room she spotted all of her things piled high to the ceiling; crates upon crates of her treasures stood next to racks lined with carefully zipped away dresses. That sight, at least, gave her some modicum of relief.
Avoi: I suppose that I just thought that… ::primping her hair:: given the extremely pivotal work I will be doing here, that certain concessions would have been made. For practicality and convenience.
L’rann: Listen, *Ensign,* — ::She emphasised that word:: — The Gorkon is not a pleasure yacht. It is a starship and the flagship of the Tyrellian Defence Force. You are assigned to these quarters, and I have no orders nor inclination to reassign you to more “convenient” ones. If you have a problem with the assignment, you can take it up with our Chief of Operations, Commander Marshall. Though I do not recommend it.
Avoi: ::A gasp:: My oh my! Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. ::Her smile strained and the speed of her hair primping went quantum. After turning to face the room again, she sighed loudly, before giving the Caitian a firm nod:: There will be no need to consult Commander Marshall. I hear you loud and clear, Lieutenant. These are my quarters and I will just have to make the most out of it.
Besides, talking to the acrid Caitian had given her an idea or two; in one of the many crates towering high in the attached room next to her, she owned a series of satin and silk tapestries, in a variety of shimmering colours and patterns. At least a few of them had leopard print designs that she believed would look sensational on the walls, breathing more life into the space and making it far less, well, dreary and grey.
L’rann: Response
Avoi: No, no, I can make this work. ::She beamed, eyes sparkling:: You have inspired me. ::Gesturing to a wall:: I’m going to hang a beautiful tapestry right on this very wall. It’s the perfect blend of pink and plum. Hand-crafted in Idridi, you know. Have you ever been?
L’rann: Response
Avoi: The City of Idridi, Betazed. I come from there. It's a *fabulous* place. Giant astrodomes, chandeliers in every building, endless parties and galas. Oh! ::She squeaked:: Let me show you, I have tons and tons of pictures.
L’rann: Response