Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn - Foreboding Energy

[Bryce Tagren-Quinn]

((The White Lion, Docks, Iana Station))

The night continued on with stories and libations, though Bry continued to feel himself descend and, if he were 100% human, he would have been in deeper trouble. He indeed felt fuzzy, warm, and a little sloppy and was only marginally aware how free he allowed himself to be. When Loxley thankfully called forward some iced water, Bry took the opportunity to slow and cool down, pouring himself a glass. 

He didn’t want to do or say anything ridiculous that he would later regret.

 

Tagren-Quinn: Any-anyway, um, stories. ::clearing throat:: Meidra, Klingons in a brig? ::chuckling:: And Loxley and Tali… and Medira, err, Meidra. ::he glanced over to them with a grin:: grandest thing a patient has ever said to you? No Gorkon stories, of course. And, no names… obviously.

 

Sirin: The short story is that I met my krei - my cousin, Alieth at a bar during shore leave and after we’d enjoyed some refreshments, we came across some Klingon scientists at the Vulcan Science Academy campus on Deep Space 224. After a - spirited debate on what Alieth insists was faulty science, we ended up in the brig. With the Klingons.

Oh my!

 

Loxley: You’re related to Alieth? I had no idea. ::he paused:: But, yeah, I can well imagine the brig story.

Alieth… Alieth. He wasn’t sure if he had met this Alieth quite yet, but listened on as he gulped some water. 

  

Namura: I'll assume it was their method of "this is our get along Brig Cell". 

 

Sirin: They weren’t unattractive, even if their misunderstanding of simple science was appalling. I discussed science all night long in the brig. It was - quite satisfying.

 

Bry raised an eyebrow in Meidra’s direction. Was it the simple art of conversation, the win of a heated scientific debate or— 

 

Loxley: Well I don’t have any brig stories. Not many Klingon stories, and probably even less amorous stories I’m afraid. Apparently, I’ve been doing this medicalling thing all wrong. Maybe I should see how much trouble I can get into tonight?

 

Namura: I'm sure Corliss would love the opportunity to come and collect you from the Iana Station security office.

There was a hint of some teasing, perhaps sarcasm in her tone which made him smirk.

  

Namura: I wouldn't worry. I've helped carry a Vissian through miles of sewer before now. Dragging you three home should be a breeze.

Tagren-Quinn: ::laughing:: oO Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Oo

Sirin: Certainly easier than dragging a Klingon home after a celebratory battle.

 

Loxley: But, Mr Targ… Tagren-Quinn, in answer to your other question; grandest thing a patient has ever said to me? ::He paused for a moment, thinking:: Okay, I’m not sure it counts but I was on a team treating a Magni Romani once. I was just an intern at the time. Anyway, someone messed up a dosage of lexorin and the guy woke up convinced he was Mercury. The god that is, not the planet. He spent hours delivering ‘divine messages’ to everyone.

 

Bry joined in the laughter exploding from the table. Meidra arched an eyebrow.

 

Loxley: We took it in turns to go and speak with him to find out what our prophecy would be.

 

Namura: That sounds rather… divine. 

 

Sirin: Certainly an interesting experience.

 

Loxley: More stories! Actually, what time is it? Should we maybe finish off this round and go find somewhere to throw some moves? I mean, I can’t dance at all, but if I drink enough then at least I start to think I can…

 

Tali shook her head in the negative.

 

Namura: Oh no, no dancing for me. There is no lifetime where I dance. However, I will happily sit by and drink while you do, forming many wonderful memories to taunt you with for eternity.

Bry scratched the back of his neck and laughed a little nervously, spinning the chilled glass of water between his hands. That sounded so sinister, maybe a tad terrifying considering his present state. In a normal setting, he would be mortified to have a colleague, let alone a boss see him like this. 

Sirin: I dance as I swim. Moving limbs around to steer, but with no real skill.

 

Loxley: Response

The sound of the RapTram rocketing by once again came, ratting the table and the glasses by the bar. It didn’t seem to disrupt any of the activity in the pub, but vibrated through his physical being. Tali stood and checked her clothes before indicating the general direction of the transport system with a slim finger. 

 

Namura: If we get on it here, I'm sure it takes us down to the lower levels of the station. That's where the Eternal Party is. ::She smiled, the hint of mischief in the corner of her ruby lips.:: Maybe you'll find your ticket to the Brig down there.

Sirin: We’ll then… off to adventure!

 

Loxley: Response

Standing to his feet, Bry felt a bit off-balance and caught himself against the edge of the table. His hand pressed firmly against its surface, his finger splayed out and he stared at it for a moment before glancing up at the others. 

First impressions were everything but… hell, he hoped… 

Tagren-Quinn: ...let’s just make a pact that, whatever happens, we won’t look at each other in any less of a light.

A soft chuckle tumbled from his mouth, but there was a genuine, truthful fear laced within it. 

((Daliius, Eternal Decks, Iana Station))

The floor was teeming with intense activity which was highlighted by the intermittent flashes of neon-colored lights, pumping heavily away in sync with the energy of the room. Sweaty, gyrating bodies (which were a dense mess) moved to the blasting music, packing the level with such a chaotic state that it was almost an assault to all the senses. The smell of sweat was strong, potent. It took them some time to navigate and push through the traffic, getting bumped (sometimes hard) by closely knitted bodies, limbs tangling in the fray. Bry’s steps were a little labored, though the effects of things were beginning to wane.

At least, he felt that if he could will it, it would come true. Perhaps Loxley’s Mercury patient-prophet would deliver upon him a fortune that evening? Something that would bring some hope over the dread that started to linger over him. 

As they reached the long bar located within the swarm of activity, Tali placed her hand upon his shoulder, her red-painted lips shouting near his ear as he leaned towards her. 

 

Namura: Am I imagining it, or is your friend down here?

 

Tagren-Quinn: What—

Alarm filled his eyes as he scanned over the crowd, blinking past the lights to see a shimmering gold dress several feet away. How-- huh. He couldn’t see a face but something was buzzing. Tali’s hand released him and he just stood there, gaping. Seconds later, he was huddled around the metal bar with the others as the tall Tyrellian bartender grinned at them while mixing a drink. 

He was visibly distracted.

  

Namura: What do you want to drink? It's as Tyrellian as it gets in here so expect to feel your hair follicles come alive. Or is it mendisa shots all round?

No. No, triple no to mendisa. 

Sirin: Something chocolate please.

Chocolate for Vulcans was—

Loxley: Response

With a pained expression, Bryce pushed himself from the bar, stuck out a thumb, closed his eyes and shook his head. 

Tagren-Quinn: Uhh, I think— restroom. 

Namura/Sirin/Loxley: Response

He staggered backwards a little before grinning a little pathetically at them. 

Tagren-Quinn: I’ll—I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.

Namura/Sirin/Loxley: Response

And he was off, his form weaving through the bodies, disappearing only a few seconds later. A minute passed, followed by another. Followed by ten more. 

He never returned. 

--

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

T238909AT0